"It's pretty far," Han had said, the navigation logs casting his face in a blue light. He switched the system off with a satisfied flourish, and Leia thought what a marvel he was. He still thought he had accomplished something.
She had shaken her head but couldn't hold back a fond smile. Watch this, he had said.
Watch me evacuate the Princess out of Hoth on the Falcon.
What do you mean, no hyperdrive? Then I'll hide in this asteroid field.
So that wasn't a cave, huh. I'll take my chances with the Empire. Disguise the Falcon as Imperial garbage and half-float my way to Bespin.
He knew a man on Bespin. That's what he was proud of. Watch me find a solution in my logs. How about that, Princess.
The lighting in the cockpit fell back to quiet and dim. It had been a long, exhausting day. Han sat in the captain's seat of his damaged but beloved ship, looking all at once hopeful and sorry and confident, that she forgave him his impulses and bravado, and saw him for the man he was, and kissed him on the cheek.
Watch this, Captain.