Title: Missing in Action
Author(s): Lady Irelynne
Timeframe: post-A New Hope
Characters: Han Solo, Luke Skywalker
Genre: Romance, Drama
Keywords:
Summary:
Han's writing down his thoughts regarding one very special woman, and revealing what he's lost.
Notes:

I see it as your fault, you know. Or rather the kid's, since after all, if it hadn't been for him, I never would have met you. But ultimately, it's your fault. Your fault the way your forehead knits in concentration as you try to figure out a way to save as many people as possible from the Empire. Your fault the way your face lights up when you just let yourself go. Your fault the way your worries smooth away from your face when you sleep. And I want to be the one who keeps them away while you're awake.

It's not just my being attracted to you, although I'm man enough to admit that's what first drew my attention. But you, royalty and always so clam and assured, and a scoundrel always on the run from bounty hunters like me? Nu-uh. Not gonna happen. So I put it out of my head, ordered myself to forget it.

But hey, you know me. I don't take orders very well, and so it kept popping back in my head every now and then, my feelings for you. Surprised, huh?

We go at it like a handful of womprats. Sometimes I wonder why I bother, why I keep trying. I mean, after all, you have the pick of all the guys in the galaxy. So why would you choose a scruffy nerfherder like me?

But then I look at your determined face and forget whatever point we were arguing so passionately over. You take my breath away, Princess, you really do.

Even on days when everything's going to the seven Corellian Hells in a leaf boat, when everybody's cranky and tired and scared, you look great. Inside, I know you're scared spitless, terrified not only for yourself but for your friends and all the men and women fighting for your cause, but you never show it outwardly. You snipe at me and I snipe back, knowing you need the release of emotion more than anything else.

Nobody understands that, do they? That you're not some Ice Queen, although you like to pretend, that you're just human, like the rest of us, with some extraordinary control over yourself. You always have it together on the outside, Princess, even when I know all you want to do is crawl into bed and pull the covers over your head. But you keep going, keep being strong because you know you have to.

I don't understand why I'm so fascinated with you, why I make it my goal to know your every mood. I just don't get it. You're not as beautiful as some of the girls I've slept with, and you sure as hell don't coddle me. And you don't give up. Just once, I'd like to have you, boneless in my arms, my lips on yours. Maybe one day I'll have the guts to just grab you and kiss you in the middle of one of our arguments. I bet you'd think that's hilarious. Me, fool extraordinaire who never looks before he leaps, afraid to kiss you.

You're pretty damned intimidating, you know. All smooth class and cool composure. And it's a little difficult to forget your royal pedigree. But my heart's completely ignored that. This traitorous organ of mine is actually fully yours, darling. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

I love you. There, I've said it. I love you. Three itsy bitsy little words, but they have the power to change a man's life, I'll tell you that.

I've never been too swell with words. So much easier to just shove a blaster in their face and shout orders after all. You'd skewer me alive if I even thought of it. And I'm too afraid of marring that pretty skin of yours.

You know, you look so damned fragile, sweetheart. There are times when I'm afraid I'll hurt you. I can hardly believe how much you handle every day. But beneath that delicate face and beautiful hair, I know, you've got one hell of a spine, girl. And you're not afraid to show it.

I think that's the first thing I fell in love with, after your face. The way you didn't give up, didn't back down. If you gave your word, you kept it. I've known too many people who haven't; easier, more convenient, for people to back down when things got hot. And I've spent so much time waiting for the other shoe to drop, for you to lie. But you didn't, and I gave up, knowing that you never will. I trust you, you know. That's not something that I can say about a lot of people, but you have complete and utter trust. And that's something more precious to me than anything else I possess.

You've got my heart, Your Worship. And you've even got me saying poetry. Me! Poetry! So-

A knock on the door interrupted his thinking, and he hurriedly switched off the screen to the datapad before calling, "Come in."

The blonde head of the kid appeared, quickly followed by the rest of his body, as Han lazily swung his legs up onto the console. "What are you doing hiding in here, Han?" Luke immediately asked. "The guys are organizing a sabaac tournament on one of the decks, and someone got authorization for free distribution of alcohol."

"Who said anything about hiding, kid?" he asked, tipping back in his chair and resting his head in his clasped hands.

"No one, Han. Now come on, before someone does say something," the Jedi urged.

"What are we celebrating?"

"No idea, actually," came the reply. "Probably one of Janson's ideas. You know how he is about loosening everybody up. But come on, Han. I've never seen you so reluctant to kick our butts at cards before."

"Is she going to be there?"

Apparently the kid didn't notice the tiny hope in Han's voice, or simply added a disgruntled tone to it. And he didn't even have to ask who the pilot was talking about. "Not for long. She'll be out of your hair in a small handful of minutes. Now come on!"

"I'll be along in a minute," Han promised. "I just need to finish some things up." Luke looked doubtful but let himself out of the room.

Han looked over the words on the screen of his datapad and nearly groaned. Foolish, sentimental sap, he admonished himself. Like she'll ever look twice at a guy like you. He deleted what he wrote, but in spite of himself, left four sentences on the screen as he left room.

I'm off to go squabble some more with you, sweetheart. Who knows? Maybe I'll have the courage to admit that I've lost this battle; you've captured my heart. And the kid isn't always as clueless as he usually looks.