The kiss was good but it was a mistake.
What the hell was he thinking? He'd acted on instinct. Didn't think beyond she's pretty and they were having fun. That's how he operated. If it felt right, he did it. But this one wasn't feeling so right anymore and that was pissing him off. If he hadn't just agreed to a few more contracts, and therefore more credits in his pocket, he would've taken off.
The weight of what he did, the nagging feeling Chewie claimed was guilt and he called bullshit, hit him the next morning when Luke bounded on to the Falcon, all pitten-eyed happy. The kid was practically glowing. The princess was going to help him with some Jedi research and he did his Luke-thing, pretending that he wasn't stuck on her, but it was pretty damn obvious.
"Did Leia stay late last night?"
"What?" Han had a quick temper but even he was surprised by the flash of defensive anger. "No. Why!?"
Luke laughed. "Just asking." He slapped Han's shoulder. "You're a bit jumpy this morning."
Luke walked over to the galley to get a cup of kaffe and Han felt like he'd been punched in the gut.
Luke didn't suspect Han would make a move on Leia cos Luke thought Han was one of the good guys. Clearly, the kid was wrong. Clearly, Han was the guy who hit on a friend's girl. Pretend girl. Crush. A crush!
This is why Luke was the kid. No adult has a crush. Wasted their time mooning and pining over someone. Luke had no life experience. He didn't understand no one was worth that much effort. They'll fuck you over eventually. Even friends. Han was the perfect example. Luke trusted him and Han went ahead and kissed the girl of his dreams. That was the takeaway from this situation. Han was a shitty friend.
Han thought, Fuck this guy, and wasn't sure if he meant himself or Luke.
Luke sat at the game's table with his cup of kaffe. Han's kaffe! In Han's mug! The kid was rattling on about sending the first patrols down to Osler and setting up the base. He took his role as Commander seriously. It was a new squad, named after the Rebels who swiped the Death Star plans and died in the process, so Luke felt that added connection and wanted to do right by them. Right by everyone. But Han was barely taking in anything the kid was saying.
Luke acted like the Falcon was his space. Thought he could walk in, get kaffe, sit and talk about some Rebel bullshit, like he owned the place. Leia, too. It made a bit of sense that she'd be entitled, princess and all, but where did this farm boy get off? They helped themselves to whatever, showed up when they wanted, thought they could commandeer the ship for any hairbrained scheme. This was his ship. He worked hard for her. To keep her going. To improve every last detail. He and the Falcon deserved a hell of a lot more respect than they were getting from this lot.
"Are you on the first run to Osler?"
"Huh?" He wasn't expecting a question. Figured the kid was on a roll and he could ignore most of it.
"What's with you today?" Luke looked almost concerned. He gave Han a quick scan like he was checking for missing or misaligned parts.
"Everything's great. Why wouldn't it be? Just thinking I need to lock up my kaffe so people stop coming in and drinking all of it."
Luke gave a quick shake of his head. "Alright, you're clearly in a mood." He picked up his drink and headed toward the ramp. "Talk to you later."
"Hey!" Han crossed his arms and glared at Luke. "That's my mug."
Luke smiled over his shoulder, barely slowly down. "I'll bring it back."
See? No respect.
Han took a deep breath and tried to take stock of the situation. Nothing happened. Not really. It didn't look like Luke had figured it out, not yet anyway, so Han might be in the clear. Maybe it would take a bit for the kid to realize Han was the guy to double-cross a friend. Take advantage of the fact that Luke hadn't made a move, maybe never would. He didn't know if Leia was interested in the kid. Pretty sure she wasn't as innocent as everyone wanted to believe but that didn't tell him anything about her and Luke.
The only thing he knew for certain was if Chewie hadn't walked in, if she didn't decide to leave, he wouldn't have stopped. If she was into it, he would've gone wherever it took them.
Yeah, he was that guy. So what? He never considered it a big deal to mess around with someone else's partner—crush, girlfriend, whatever. First off, only a sucker would put that kind of trust in anyone. Sex was always just sex. Maybe you think you're in love, that this one's different, but it was always the same.
You do it to someone or they do it to you and Han always made sure he wasn't the sucker. Learned that one the hard way.
The kid was too earnest. He'd experienced some tough things leaving Tatooine, and in the time since, but still wanted to see the best in beings. He thought he saw the best in Han. Thought the fact that Han and Chewie came back, stuck around, ran missions, that they ate meals together, played cards, meant they cared.
Well, Chewie cared. Han needed money. Some time to get his accounts, and shit in general, in order. He was passing through. That's all. It was Luke's problem if he thought that meant more. And it was some kind of bullshit that the kid was making him feel guilty about one damn kiss. Couple of kisses. A bit of groping. A few minutes that she liked just as much so why wasn't Luke walking around trying to lay it on her, too?
[Are you going to stand there all morning?] Chewie stood at the edge of the lounge, staring at Han. [Good thing you didn't develop a conscience earlier. We'd still be stuck on Mimban.]
"You'd be stuck on Mimban." Han threw Chewie a scowl as he headed to the cockpit. They needed to do a full systems check before taking off for Osler. "I'd be living a life of luxury by now if I didn't have to stop to help all your charity cases."
Han chose to ignore the Wookiee's laugh as he walked away.
He found her in the briefing room. He was late but didn't much care. He already knew what to do and was more interested in seeing her, getting a handle on how this was all going to play out. He stood at the back, leaning against the wall. Arms crossed over his chest, legs crossed at the ankle. He watched as she worked her way through the room, hands clasped behind her back.
"The canyon floor doesn't have enough room for more than two freighters to land at once. It's going to be a tight fit and the fog will make it even more difficult."
She weaved through the seated pilots, making eye contact and engaging with each one. It was her way of ensuring they knew she was talking to them. She was depending on them. She expected good things.
"You will be given precise coordinates at takeoff but we're really not sure how individual ships will respond to the atmosphere." Her voice was low and rich, definitely not what you'd expect from someone so small. One of her many surprising features. "Depending on the density and level of the fog, you might not be able to land using visual cues. The grounds crew will be waiting for you. They'll guide you in with lights, if possible, but you will likely need to rely on sensors."
"How long do we have on planet?"
The pilot sat up straight, almost raised his hand like he was asking a question in class. He was an old guy, greying hair and beard. Might have been old enough to be her father. And like so many others in the room, he seemed to be in awe of her.
They all wanted to do right by her. Impress her. Han thought there might be a healthy dose of fear mixed in with respect. If she said jump, they would apologize for not having done it already.
"Long enough to leave the cargo and refuel. We're sending every ship with more than one pilot so no one burns out. Since we can only send so few ships at once, we need to get as many trips in as quickly as possible."
She looked up and saw Han, paused briefly. He gave her one nod, not even a smile, and she turned away.
There were more questions about schedules, maintenance, Osler's conditions and the base set-up. He didn't ask anything and she didn't acknowledge him further. In fact, she acted like she'd forgotten he was even in the room.
He couldn't figure her out. He didn't have any real-life princesses to compare her to but she definitely wasn't what he expected to find on the Death Star. He knew she was in deep with the Rebellion but thought she'd be more like Mothma. Posh and proper. Ready to be carried out to safety.
But she threw around insults and nicknames. Knew how to shoot. Took charge of the, admittedly poorly thought out, rescue. She landed them in a trash compactor but she got them out. It was an immediate competition between them and an adrenaline rush that didn't solely come from escaping the Empire.
She had a temper. He guessed that it was coming out a lot more these days because anyone who knew her on Alderaan seemed confused by it. Celchu said she was always considered tough and determined, equal parts princess and politician, but Han figured most didn't know her up close and personal. Probably next to nobody saw another side.
Han recognized protective walls when he saw them. Almost everyone he knew coming up did the same thing. It was the cracks, the flashes of something more, that sparked his interest.
They didn't pop up often. Even on the trip to Yavin, when she had a chance to take a breath, she didn't look near falling apart. She comforted Luke who was moping around after the old man died. Ordered him and Chewie around. Borrowed a datapad and wrote furiously for hours. If he didn't know everything that just happened, that she was an Imperial prisoner scheduled for execution, endured interrogation and watched her home planet explode, he wouldn't suspect anything was wrong.
Except he heard her in the fresher puking. He didn't know if it was nerves, or she didn't like hyperspace travel, or whatever garbage they pumped in her during interrogation. He didn't ask questions, she didn't provide details. He brushed it aside because he was only going to know her for a few hours more so it didn't matter.
Han pushed himself of the wall and left the briefing room. He wasn't in the mood to watch the Leia everyone wanted to see. The self-sacrificing, beacon of hope, model of stoic determination. He knew there was more to her. He'd seen her take something, a moment, because she wanted it. There had to be more where that came from.
He and Chewie were down and back from Osler in no time so they picked up another run. Then another. It was easy credits, or the promise of credits since the Rebels were spending all available money fitting out the base, and kept him busy.
Working with the Rebels suited him. He and Chewie had a pretty good set up running with them. As long as the Rebels were well-hidden then so were they. Keeping the Hutt and bounty hunters off his back for a while longer. Han understood the life. He was comfortable in chaos. Believed he thrived on it. Knowing that anything could happen, the bottom could fall out at any moment, and he couldn't really remember a time when it wasn't that way.
They didn't have a real face-to-face until he was heading out on his first non-Osler run. It was a couple of weeks post-kiss and he'd convinced himself he didn't care one way or the other. But then he saw her and was suddenly pissed that she hadn't stopped by earlier.
She showed up at the last minute with a list update and they quickly fell into an argument. He thought they should pay more. She thought he was wasting valuable time by complaining.
"You need to read the small print." She pushed the datapad at him again. He refused to take it as if that would imply agreement. "This is a reasonable accommodation for an already agreed upon sum."
"Reasonable accommodation? You're asking me to make a whole other stop! That's fuel and upkeep, Sweetheart. The Falcon doesn't run on the kindness of your pure Rebel heart."
"Naboo is less than a half-day's journey outside your route. If the Falcon can't withstand that level of use then we should consider terminating this contract all together."
Han had a few more choice words to add but Chewie grabbed the datapad and started shoving him toward the cockpit.
[We will return in time and with all the requested supplies.]
She looked slightly confused, Chewie's comments lost in translation, but she understood his meaning. Leia turned on her heel and left without another word.
It was a five-day run and Han was angry almost the entire time. He might calm down, get deep into repairs or flying or negotiations at pick-up, but as soon as he thought about Leia and her demands he was off again. He hadn't signed on. He was an independent agent. She wasn't calling the shots and she sure as hell couldn't tell him what to do.
[It's called a business transaction.] Chewie's patience wore thin early on. By day three, he was ready to strangle his partner. [They pay us money. We do the job.]
"It's her attitude!" He was supposed to be re-fusing a panel in the circuitry bay but was spending more time waving tools in the air as he complained. "She walked on the Falcon like I owe her something."
[You do owe her something. That's how we get paid.]
Chewie didn't get it. He let most things roll off his back. Didn't see the point in worrying about things beyond his control. The Wookiee refused to believe that this wasn't about Han's bruised ego because a woman didn't fall for his charms.
"This one isn't all on me!" Han turned back to his work. He hit the power switch a little too hard and almost knocked it off. "She started it, too."
She had kissed him back. Leaned into him, ran her fingers through his hair. Han knew a good kiss from a bad one and that one was definitely good. There was no way he was crazy for thinking it. He wasn't alone in this one.
Of course, the only thing it proved was that Luke's crush wasn't reciprocated. Probably. Or they were both assholes as far as Luke was concerned. And why was he still so worried about the kid? He'd had plenty of chances to make his move. Who's fault was it if it hadn't happened already?
Han let out a slow breath. Maybe he was getting a little crazy over this one. Letting it rattle around in his brain too much. Han wasn't one for self-reflection but he knew he was getting too worked up.
He turned back to Chewie and spoke in a much calmer voice. "I think I need a reboot."
Chewie rolled his eyes. [Of course you do.]
When they landed on Naboo, he made quick work of picking up the bacta and medical equipment from their supplier. Theed was a bit too polished for his taste but he found a cantina to his liking near the meet-up point.
They didn't exchange information beyond first names. He followed her back to her apartment and they made very good use of their time. When he left in the morning they didn't bother with goodbyes. He dressed in the dark and she locked the door behind him. As simple and as enjoyable as it gets.
Head cleared, he could get back to work.
He'd used this strategy a few times. Blow off steam. Reset the chrono. Remind himself and everyone else that he wasn't tied to one person, place or job. It wasn't always sex related. Sometimes he proved he was only loyal to himself by taking the larger share of the loot. Screwing someone over for a gig. Picking up and leaving without a word of warning. But the sex option was definitely the most fun.
Han tried keeping to himself when back with the fleet but it wasn't easy. Leia kept her distance but Luke was persistent. He was big on the drop in. Invited himself along for an Osler delivery. Alternated between asking too many questions and obsessively talking about the Force or Rebel business. But the kid made him laugh. He often lost track of time listening to Luke rattle on as they tuned up something on the Falcon.
"Is there a trick to this navigational system?" Luke examined the mass of twisted wires hanging from the panel. He looked back at Han sitting in his pilot's seat. "Can you honestly tell what wire goes where?"
"The trick is to not mess with her." Han nodded to the toolbox on the floor. "You're supposed to be checking the electrical contacts not messing with wires."
Luke picked up the microfuser and went to work as instructed. He also launched into a story about fixing vaporators on the moisture farm with whatever parts they could find. They had to be inventive to keep things going sometimes.
"Half the time we had to rely on whatever the Jawas brought around. We couldn't always get into Anchorhead or Mos Eisley. And we didn't always have the money to shop in those places. Jawas were cheaper. Less reliable, too, but not like we always had a choice."
"I get it." That described most of Han's life, too.
"I wonder what Uncle Owen would think of the Falcon. He was always proud of how long he could keep our machines going. He'd probably be pretty impressed with everything you and Chewie have done to her." Luke chuckled. It really did seem sometimes like he was talking to himself. He didn't need an audience. "Or he'd think I was an idiot for ever setting foot on her, let alone go anywhere in her."
Han held his tongue. He wasn't in the mood for a defending the Falcon argument.
He knew every inch, every twist and turn, on the Falcon. Every pulse point, every bruise, every scar. He slowly untangled the wires, sliding his fingers along each one to check for integrity, picturing the line from wire to board to system to vents. He knew the map because he drew it.
It's how he first learned about mechanics. There was a right way in the end, how stuff fit together, but more than one way to get there. Jaina never told him how things worked but she gave him all the room, sometimes literally with piles of electronics around their living space, to figure it out.
It's your path, Sweetheart. I don't get to decide where it goes.
Han shook his head. Fuck. He fought back a surge of anger. He let his guard down and ended up at Jaina. This job wasn't doing it for him. He needed something more pressing, urgent. Something that demanded focus. It was too damn quiet.
"Hey, Leia and I are going to start Shyriiwook lessons!" Luke did his quick bounce thing, excited to recall this important information. "Threepio is going to help."
"Not on my ship." Han gave Luke a stern look. "I don't want that droid around here if I can help it."
Luke shrugged. "I'm sure we can figure something out."
"Well, you better get it at it fast."
"Yeah, yeah. We all know." Luke laughed and turned back to his inspection. "You're going to be out of here soon."
"No joke, kid." Han kept his head down. He was trying to remember why they hooked up the lights for the rear-deflector shields to the main thruster switch. It must have been a brilliant mid-flight, emergency work around that was completely escaping him now. "This ain't a part of my long-term plan."
"You'd miss us too much."
"Who?!" Han snapped his head to look at Luke. What in the actual hell was the kid talking about?
"Me and Leia." Luke didn't bother turning around. He didn't think he needed to emphasize the point. Seemed too obvious. "You'd be lost without us."
"How the hell you figure that?" Han leaned back in his chair. Was the kid sniffing spice?
Luke checked one of the contacts and sparks popped. He stepped back to consider his next steps.
"It's like the Falcon and all the rigged-up systems and connections. It looks random, precarious, and sometimes it is, but it all fits together and now you need the one part to make the other parts work."
"You're right that this low-rent operation needs me to get things done but I work on my own." He turned back to the console. He wasn't going to fall for it and get dragged into this conversation.
"That's one way to look at it." Luke pulled a pair of goggles over his eyes and started up the microfuser. "But it's not the only way."
Han wondered when he started being surrounded by philosophers. First Chewbacca and now Luke. Considering the why and how and big picture never appealed to him. The here and now was more his style. The moving from one spot to the next. The view from the cockpit. The stream of stars when they hit hyperspace.
She was waiting on Osler as the Falcon landed. She gave Luke a quick hello then informed Han what was going to happen next. It was a regular intel pick up but all the pilots were scheduled so she had to go and he had to fly her.
"I need to be back in two days so don't have much time."
"Hang on! We haven't even unloaded this batch."
She nodded to the crew already at the Falcon with repulsor carts for the cargo.
"You wanna give us a chance to check the Falcon over. Get some fuel. Food."
"The fuel is arriving right now. Crew is doing an inspection. We're bringing in meals. You can sleep when we hit hyperspace."
She was maddening. She didn't even flinch. Not a moment of apology or even a please. Weren't princesses supposed to be polite? Weren't there rules of decorum, or whatever the fuck it was called, she had to follow?
"You need credits to finally get out of here and pay off your debts. I am only trying to help you achieve that goal."
She didn't wait for his reply. He watched her disappear into his ship as he walked back to supervise the unloading of the cargo.
The fight started in the cockpit right after they made the jump. Chewie quickly made himself scarce and they landed on a topic that that let have it out. Weeks of playing nice, or playing nonchalant, had taken a toll on both of them.
"I've stolen, smuggled and flown more coaxium then you'll see in a lifetime!" He was leaning over the side of his pilot's chair, twisted to look at her.
"I'm sure that's very true." Leia's arms were folded across her chest. She cocked her head, feigning politeness. "I've never stolen, smuggled, or flown coaxium. Not even once. So, the title is all yours!"
He clenched his jaw and tried not to actually growl.
"I got a load of raw coaxium out of Kessel in record time." Han pointed a finger at her, emphasizing that point. When she didn't react, didn't even roll her eyes, he turned back to the console. Made a show of hitting a lot of important buttons.
"You flew raw coaxium out of Kessel on the Falcon? Do you think that makes you brave?" Leia leaned forward in her seat. "It makes you sound like a reckless idiot."
She unbuckled and jumped from her seat. She was out of the cockpit in a matter of seconds.
"Hey!" He stalked after her. She wasn't going to have the last word on this one. "Freed a bunch of Wookiees and droids, too."
She stopped, spun to face him and he almost ran into her. She gave him a quick shove back with both hands on his chest.
"Don't act like that was your plan all along. Like you arrived there with anything close to good intentions." Her hands went to her hips. "If that happened, I'm sure it had little to do with you and everything to do with Chewbacca."
He tried not to react. She was mostly right. He might not have done anything if it wasn't for Chewie but it was his flying that got them out of there.
"Don't act like you ain't impressed, Your Highness." He smirked at her. "You know what we can do. Saved your ass and this Rebellion a few times already."
"Please." She crossed her arms and lowered her eyelids into a hard stare. He hadn't known her long but knew this look meant she full-blown mad. "You would have flown into a black hole years ago if it wasn't for dumb luck."
She was off again, rounding the corner to the lounge before he could get a word out. He found her unpacking her satchel, slamming her datapad and notes on the table.
"Takes a lot more than luck, Sweetheart!" He grabbed his tool belt from the back of the bench. He could pretend to be interested in work, too. "You've got no idea what's out there or the level of skill required to pull something like that off."
"Do you need my approval?" She sat on the bench and turned on her datapad. "Shouldn't the reward and all the credits I'm sure you earned be enough? Or did that part not go as well as planned? Per usual."
He couldn't really argue with her on that one either. It definitely didn't go as planned. He'd probably score a few points if he told her they screwed Crimson Dawn over to give the fuel to some freedom fighters but he didn't want to open that door. And there was the whole Q'ira thing and he definitely wasn't getting into that one.
"The only thing I need from you is all the credits your damn Rebellion still owes me! In case you didn't know, you're a bit behind on paying invoices."
"This from the man who can't show his face in at least two sectors because he owes money to a Hutt."
Why was he standing there? No amount of money was worth this abuse. She acted like she'd never made a mistake, like her shit don't stink.
He didn't mind the fight or even the insults. He liked the fight. The bickering and insults were fun. Or they used to be. Even when she was annoying and difficult, stuck on some half-cocked, desperate maneuver she thought would bring down the Empire, Han got a bit of a kick out of her. She was hard to ignore. Then they kissed and it all went to hell.
"Thought you were the badass outlaw these days?" He leaned in close, his voice low and gravelly. Dripping with sarcasm. She refused to look up from her datapad. "Isn't that your latest costume? Got bored being legit and decided to try this side."
She was ignoring him. Acting like he wasn't there. But he could see her clenched jaw. Heard her sharp intake of breath through her nose as she tried to regulate her breathing.
"You should probably wear less white if you're gonna be rolling around in the muck with the rest of us."
He was breaking his own rules. He should already be long gone. He shouldn't be in this fight with her. Or in the Rebel's fight. None of it had anything to do with him.
Yet, for some reason, he was standing in the lounge of his ship trying to get this irritating, stuck-up princess to pay attention to him and he was losing his shit.
"You know what your trouble is?" He thought he saw a flinch. "You're too caught up in your noble cause. Think politics and royal connections will save the galaxy. Win the war."
She shifted in her seat and he smirked. He was getting to her.
"Your trouble is you think the war's only been going on since you decided to fight."
Leia laid her datapad down. Rested her hands on the table beside it.
"You think your daddy started this to save anyone else?" Han leaned in closer, so he was only inches away from her. "He was protecting his own interests, his bank account and crown jewels. Bail, Mothma, that king you keep hoping will give you money. They all play noble, have other people fight in the trenches then act like they've done it all."
"You are such an ass!"
Her face was red, full of fury, and he had to fight off a satisfied half-smile.
She stood up and he was forced to take a step back.
"My father fought against the Empire for decades. It started before I was born. I realize it's impossible for you to notice anything happening around you unless an actual bomb went off but Bail and others worked tirelessly to bring an end to the Emperor's tyranny and they didn't do it for themselves. Both my parents were well aware of their privilege. They helped found, and fund, the rebellion to help those who couldn't do it themselves."
Her hands were on her hips. She didn't cower, maybe didn't even blink, as Han towered over her. She didn't need to puff herself up, make herself look bigger. There was no turning away once she held that space.
"Can't fight for themselves? Who do you think is fighting this war? The generals staring at tactical boards? The rich kids playing at soldier?"
"We all serve a role! We are all risking our lives. Making sacrifices. Leaving families and loved one behind."
"See? Noble cause. Sacrifice. Loved ones."
They were inches away from each other again but shouting. Rushing to get the words out and beat the other to the punch.
"Yes, Captain Solo." She emphasized the Solo. "We all know you have no one, care for no one."
"And we all know you think you're better than the rest of us."
There was a flash, maybe a glint, in her eyes. He swore that he saw something, quick and electric.
"No, Captain. Just you. You got that part right." Leia crossed her arms over her chest. "And I am fully aware that you serve no one but yourself."
Han was a talker. It's how he got out of a lot of bad spots. Said the first thing that came to mind and then figured out the follow through. But there were too many things racing through his head in that moment. She was jamming up his signals. Throwing him off his game.
"You don't understand sacrifice. Giving up everything for something more important than your own petty existence."
"Listen, sister, just because I didn't…"
"Don't say it!" Her face was red again. She was trying to hold it in but suddenly looked like a detonator ready to blow.
"Say what?"
"Don't say a damn word about Alderaan!" Leia stood perfectly still. Her arms wrapped tightly around her sides. He could see the almost imperceptible quiver of eyelids. The increased pulse at the base of her neck. "If you mention Alderaan, one word, you will regret it. Don't. Tempt. Me."
He paused for a moment, stared at her, then exploded.
"What the fuck?! You think I'm going to drag up Alderaan? Mock you?"
"I don't know what you're capable of."
"Not that!"
He paused again when he saw Chewbacca standing at the edge of the lounge.
"Why are you always lurking!?" Han, suddenly remembering he was still holding his tool belt, fastened it to his waist. "Stop standing there."
[I'm trying to decide which version is worse to walk in on.]
"Shut it, pal." Han gave his co-pilot the side-eye before grabbing the toolbox.
"What did he say?"
"That he agrees with me."
[You're a terrible liar.]
"He just called you a liar."
Great! Now they were ganging up on him. So much for that life debt and loyalty.
"That's it, Sweetheart." He leaned in, finger pointing, lips curled in a sneer. "You're on your own for this one. Chewie can work security. I'm staying here to take care of what's mine."
"Oh my!" Leia laid the back of her head on her forehead, acting like she was about to swoon. "How will I ever manage?"
It was Han's turn to walk out and did so in a dramatic fashion, practically stomping his boots against the metal plating as he left. He heard Chewie chuckle but decided to wait until later to set the Wookiee straight.
While they were out, he spent his time elbows-deep in the enviro-system. It didn't need fixing but he needed a project to focus on. He wasn't feeling angry anymore, the fight served as an unexpected reset, but he still felt messy. He didn't know how else to describe it.
Chewie was right. He was getting too wrapped up in whatever was setting him off. Letting his anger lead him around.
He didn't see it—his anger—as a problem most times. It was usually a good marker, kept him on track, on his toes. But he'd been stuck in it without a real target. Mad at whatever was in front of him. Of every perceived slight. Everything Leia did or didn't do. He was second guessing himself and that was dangerous in his line of work.
Maybe it was coming back to the same place over and over. Wherever the Rebels were making camp. Lumen. The base on Osler. It wasn't his usual pattern. Once he'd left Corellia, he made sure to not frequent any place. Didn't want anyone to know his routine. Expect him. He didn't want to be recognizable to the wrong people, namely port authorities and law enforcement. There was a period, in the early days, when he stopped on Solarin a bit too often but he stopped that soon enough. He needed to go to Nar Shaddaa and Tatooine for work but always tried to mix it up. Never got too regular.
It had to be messing with his system. He was keeping a schedule. Showing up to meetings. Signing on for contracts that kept him coming back, working with pilots and recruits and the Princess. Until the incident, there were dinners and card games. A regular supply of customers for extra product he brought back from runs. He knew where to find Leia or Luke in the off-hours when he was bored and they both knew when to set up in the Falcon if they needed a change of scenery.
He should have figured something was up when he started looking forward to the return.
"Kriffin' hell." Han stepped back from the enviro-unit. Wiped a hand over his face. "The kid was right."
There was at least a small part of him, maybe it was the crack in his wall, coming back for people. Luke and Leia. Somehow, certainly without him trying, or even noticing, they became friends. Not the I trust you just enough to pull a job with you kind of friend but the I don't want anything to happen to you kind of friend.
"Didn't see that one coming."
When he turned around at Yavin, he told himself it was a one-time thing. He spotted Luke's X-Wing. Saw too many other fighters explode as the TIEs moved in formation behind them. Han knew the Imperial maneuvers. He'd flown them many times. Knew how they planned to move around the Rebels, trap and disintegrate them.
Luke was impressive, though. He was leading other pilots around the TIE attempted blockade and into the Death Star trench. The kid was a natural.
Then Han saw the distinctive shape of Vader's personal fighter. He'd only seen it once before, maybe a year into his time at the Academy, but everyone knew it. Vader, along with two wingmen, followed the X-Wings into the trench and Han responded on instinct. He didn't even have to tell Chewie his plan. The Wookiee was right with him.
Even Han had to admit the whole deal felt pretty good. They had no real plan escaping the Death Star, other than get the princess and get out. They made it up as they went and despite arguing the entire way they also, somehow, trusted each other. It felt like second nature even though it was brand new. Then they managed to blow the fucking thing up and Han thought, felt, for the first time in a very long time that things were turning around.
Didn't last, though. He woke up after the victory party and felt that familiar weight on his chest. It would all go to hell if he didn't get out fast. Maybe he could manage an exit that didn't involve him setting everything on fire before he left. But he took the job to move them off-planet because he was leaving anyway so might as well make some money. By the time they rejoined the fleet, there was already another mission in the works.
For the first few supply runs he and Chewie made, Han considered not going back. It would have been easy to take off with the credits or the goods. Almost talked himself into it when they landed on Mosya. He got to drinking, hooked up with a woman he met at the port bar, then got them a room at a fancy hotel. He had money, felt like a big shot. They ordered expensive liquor and posh food. They fucked, loudly, moving furniture and banging against walls. When management arrived with noise complaints, he answered the door wearing only his underwear and smoking a cigar. He passed over a few more credits and ordered more champagne and they were left alone again.
The next morning, he snuck out with the early light and made his way back to the Falcon.
When they arrived back on base, he adjusted his charges to compensate for the missing funds. Leia asked why but he didn't bother with an explanation. Didn't want her to know that he almost stole from her and her Rebellion. Didn't want to consider what brought him back. It was who he was, how he was, and there wasn't anything more to add.
He should have figured it out then. That was as red flag as it got.
Han decided he could deal with it. This surprise friendship. It didn't mean he was sticking around any longer than needed. When he had enough credits, he was gone. But until then he needed to keep his nose clean because he didn't want to fuck this one up.
If he'd thought about it for more than a second, thought about something other than how much he liked her surprisingly low voice and how soft her lips looked, he probably wouldn't have kissed her. Thinking about it for more than a second had stopped him every other time he'd almost made that move. He knew starting anything with the Princess would be a colossal mistake. This little incident with the Princess reminded him to save any extra-curriculars for runs and non-Rebel time. Fewer complications the better.
Han was finishing up reattaching the panel when he heard Chewie's roar.
[Get her started! We need to go now!]
He met them at the top of the ramp. Leia entered first, quickly passing Han.
"Hey! Are you bleeding?"
[Yes! Someone shot at her.]
He reached for her without thinking, ready to wipe the blood from her forehead. "You were shot?"
She pushed his hand away as she continued into the ship. "No."
[Move! Now!]
Han didn't ask any more questions. He was in his chair, beginning the start-up sequence, when he heard Leia take her seat behind him.
"You're over-reacting. We aren't being chased."
[You were shot at, Princess.]
Han finished getting their clearance codes and turned to look at her. "Who shot at you!?"
"We didn't see."
They lifted off the landing pad and Han did a quick scan to see if anyone seemed overly interested in their departure. There were no blasters directed at them, no one watching the Falcon's ascent. It was odd to go from a direct blaster shot to nothing. Where was the follow through?
Leia sat in her chair with arms crossed tightly over her chest. If Han didn't know better, he'd say she was sulking. She didn't like to appear vulnerable and she definitely didn't like to be wrong. She was going to insist that she wasn't in danger as long as Chewie insisted she had been.
When they hit hyperspace Han turned to his co-pilot. "Okay, what happened?"
Leia stormed out of the cockpit before Chewie said a word.
The pick-up went as planned. She got the datafile and they were returning to the Falcon with Chewie walking a few paces behind her. It was a crowded street, a lot to watch, but thankfully he saw a flash from the top of a building and reacted without delay. Pulled her into a doorway as the blaster bolt shot past and hit a wall, barely missing the Princess. The street erupted in chaos and they ran to the docking bay.
"The blood?"
[Her head scraped the wall when I pulled her out of the way. Not hard. More a graze.]
"The shot was clearly for her?"
[It was.]
"Then why is she being so weird about it?"
Chewie shrugged again. [Nerves? Adrenaline? Rebel member or not, no one likes to be shot at.]
Han nodded. He understood.
She was back in the lounge, at the games table and on her datapad. He sat down across from her and she didn't look up from her typing.
"So, why are you acting like this is nothing?"
She stopped, he was certain he heard a sigh, but she didn't speak.
"It comes with the job, sure. But it was an easy pick up. Someone's been doing this once a month and nothing's happened. You go once, last minute change, and someone tries to shoot you."
Leia finally looked up. "I was recognized."
"You were on that street for less than a minute and someone from a rooftop spotted you and took a shot?"
"What is your point?" She rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward. She wasn't angry. They were both done with fighting for the time being.
"They were expecting you."
She looked away. Let out an obvious sigh this time. "You're blowing this out of proportion."
Their earlier fight had veered into vicious but it helped them reset. The awkwardness that followed the kiss was gone.
He matched her stance with elbows on table and leaning forward. She had that steady, unshakeable look he expected but he could see softer edges. She was listening, curious. She wanted to know what he was going to say next.
"You're not going to do your rebellion much good if you can be picked off so easily."
"What do you propose?"
She was almost smiling. Definitely not pulling back.
"Looks like I'm going to have get on your missions for the next while. Make sure this doesn't happen again."
She laughed. "I feel safer already."
He started with a half-smile that slipped into a wide grin.
It was a good kiss—a damn good kiss—but it wasn't going to happen again. Didn't really seem fair but there wasn't much in this galaxy that was.