"Absolutely not," Han Solo answered before rolling his eyes and snickering in disgust. "You must be confusing me with a 15-year-old girl."
"Come on," Wes Janson urged. "It's all in good fun."
"Fun?" Han echoed, setting down his tool carefully and straightening to his full lanky height. He looked incredulously at his uninvited guest.
"Yeah, fun," he insisted with more conviction than he felt. Luke had predicted the smuggler would balk at the idea, but he hadn't expected such a negative reaction.
"There ain't nothing fun about wasting time on some bullshit love match game."
"Come on. Bren worked hard on this project. He spent a week compiling the formula."
"You don't say?"
"Yeah, he poured a lot of hard work into it."
"Well, since you put it that way. I mean, if this Bren fellow worked so hard on it, I'll do it."
"Really?"
"No," Han replied, laughing and shaking his head in amusement.
"Come on," Wes urged. "Don't you think we could use a mindless distraction right about now? It's good for morale."
"My morale is just fine."
"I was talking about everyone else."
"Since when do I care about anyone else's morale?"
"You're impossible," Wes muttered, not quite under his breath.
Considering the conversation finished, Han leaned down and retrieved the tool he had deposited on the floor of his ship moments earlier.
"You'll be the only one who doesn't submit a survey," Wes blurted out in a last-ditch effort to convince the stubborn smuggler.
"I'll live," Han assured him, turning away to resume his work. Suddenly, he spun back around to face Janson again.
"Everyone is taking part in your little experiment?" he asked innocently.
Wes bit back a smile. No doubt, Han was thinking of a certain petite princess with doelike eyes, a killer body, and a razor-sharp wit. Many rebels routinely teased Han about his growing preoccupation with Leia Organa. The Corellian had initially dismissed their jibes as ridiculous fiction, but his denials had diminished in recent months. Now, it was obvious that Solo had it bad for her.
What wasn't quite so evident was how the princess felt about Han. Wedge Antilles insisted that Leia secretly liked sparring with Solo, but Wes was uncertain. Was she that good of an actress? Regardless, he assumed his best Sabbac face.
"Everyone," he assured him.
Solo rubbed the back of his neck while mulling over Wes's answer. Finally, he let out a tired laugh.
"How the hell did you convince her royal stick-in-the-mud to take part in your stupid game?"
"Luke convinced her."
"'Course he did," Solo muttered more to himself more than to the man standing across from him.
"Well, if she's in, count me in," Han announced, sporting a wide, goofy grin. "Only 'cause I don't want to waste a good opportunity to mess with her."
"Super! I'll let everyone know you'll do it."
Solo turned away and resumed his crouching position. Seconds later, he was absorbed in his work project.
As Wes headed to the mess hall, he sported a satisfied smile. He could not wait to tell the guys that he'd snagged Solo for their game. There was only one problem. How would he ever convince the princess to take part?