Originally posted on Tumblr for Scoundress Saturdays. Prompt: Han Solo's solutions for boring meetings.
Boring Meeting Anyway
Winter's voice was back in Leia's head.
You're just about to try crushing his head, aren't you?
The thought distracted her momentarily from the drone of Jan Dodonna's update. He was a capable leader, and a respected elder, but his monotonic delivery and penchant for excruciating detail made it difficult for even Leia to feign interest for long periods of time. Especially when most of his update was data she'd already reviewed herself. Winter's voice in her head was right; she had been on the verge of playing that old mental parlor trick she'd used in the Imperial Senate to keep her brain amused.
Instead, she took a moment to glance around the room, where the other meeting participants were having varying levels of success at hiding their boredom. Hells, even Mon looked like she was struggling to keep her eyes open; she kept blinking at odd moments.
When did you start saying "Hells," Leia?
It's just an expression, Winter.
A Corellian expression, am I right?
There are a lot of Corellians in the Alliance.
But only one whom you'd rather be picturing right about now.
Wedge?
Nice try, Leia.
Jan moved on to a diagram of ship movements across the sector, another report that Leia had already reviewed prior to the meeting. She took the opportunity to shift in her seat, successfully stifling a yawn. Her datapad vibrated, indicating an incoming message, and she nearly jumped when she read it.
Your sabacc face ain't bad, Princess.
Han's message on the heels of Leia's wandering thoughts had her thrown for a second, but she kept her composure. She paused, bringing her eyes back up to Jan's presentation and waiting to type in the hopes that anyone watching would assume she was taking notes.
Another message blipped across her datapad.
Nice try. You already know this shit backward and forward.
Sometimes, it really felt like the man was reading her mind. It was infuriating. She erased the start of the message she had been writing and composed a new, more tart reply.
I'm sorry, who is this?
Her datapad buzzed again.
Man of your dreams. Your destiny. You know. Leia could almost feel the implied wink coming across the screen.
She shook her head slightly. This was Han's latest teasing strategy, a constant stream of jokes about how head over heels in love with him she must be, how much she clearly wanted him. Most of the time she played along with it, especially since he managed to keep topping himself with how ridiculous his statements were.
Right, Leia. If they're so ridiculous, why all the tension?
Tension?
Come on, you feel it. You're feeling it now. Just go for it. You know you want to.
You don't know what you're talking about, Winter.
You know I do.
Leia thought Jan was finally wrapping up—and judging from the way Mon had sprung up to introduce the next presenter, she thought so, too—but he instructed the tech to cue up yet another slide deck. There was a low set of groans from the back of the room; apparently several of her fellow commanders were done pretending to be engaged with the presentation.
She typed and sent another message: What are you even doing here? Han wasn't enlisted; unless he needed the intel for an upcoming mission, he normally skipped out on these kinds of meetings.
Intel on the Kiffu system. If they ever get to that.
Sorry, Leia typed. They tabled that until tomorrow's briefing.
The stifled curse in the back of the room told Leia where Han was standing, at least. She assumed he'd just leave, and turned her eyes back to Jan's briefing, only to feel the datapad buzz again.
Now I'm here to rescue a princess.
Leia tried not to grin. With your usual success, I assume?
Got something that needs your immediate attention.
Yes?
Chewie's cooking and you don't want it to get cold.
On my way. Leia managed not to grin this time, instead tightening her lip and furrowing her brow if she'd just received an urgent communique. She whispered an apology as she gathered her things and left the room.
Leia had settled in for the evening, robe on, feet propped up on the couch, glass of wine in her hand, a series of reports on the datapad for her to review. Just one more to finish, then she could watch a bad holodrama and comm Han before she went to bed.
Her datapad buzzed, and she smiled as the private message came through.
How did you ever survive these damned meetings?
Han was on Lothal right now, representing the New Republic at a trade conference. When possible, they found excuses to travel together for work, but Han had been a last-minute replacement for this conference, and Leia already had a series of meetings with visiting dignitaries here on Coruscant this week. It was fine—their occasional separations just came with the job—but Leia had to admit she missed him terribly.
Daydreaming of you, she typed. It was true, after all.
His answer was quick. I knew it!
Oh, no. Now he was going to get even more over the top ridiculous than he had been on Hoth, with his frequent proclamations that she couldn't bear for a guy like him to slip away.
You were just as bad, she typed.
You sure? he teased.
Leia put her wine glass down. Oh, it was on. I'm sorry, whom did I catch watching me sleep on the way to Bespin?
There was a pause, a long one. Han must have had to actually participate in the meeting. Leia returned to her work, still keeping an eye on her datapad for any new messages.
Just as she finished the last report, her datapad buzzed again.
Sorry, Sweetheart. They asked me a question. Then someone else had a question but it was really more of a comment. Actually that was like five people. Also just kill me now.
She chuckled lightly, picking up her wine glass again and taking a sip. I believe I asked you a question as well.
Okay, I give. But speaking of the way to Bespin….
Were we? It was her turn to tease.
Can we? Unless you'd rather talk about that night last week…
Leia shuddered. She knew exactly what night Han was talking about; they'd been at a diplomatic dinner most of the evening, seated across the table from each other. The combination of Han in formalwear, the fact that she could see but not touch him for most of the evening, and the words he murmured into her ear when he did get close had Leia practically on fire by the end of the night. They hadn't made it to the bedroom. Well, not the first time, anyway.
She took a long drink of her wine and sat back on the couch, remembering.
Are you on encrypted message now? she sent back. She assumed he was, but it was worth checking if they were going down this road. There were enough holoporn takeoffs on their relationship on the market already; the last thing they needed was one based on their actual sex life.
Of course, Han replied.
Then I have some ideas for when you come home, Leia typed, settling in for an exchange that promised to be much more…stimulating than any meeting. Or holodrama, for that matter.