Work Text:
Ding!
The turbolift doors swooshed open, blowing a small gust of wind on Leia. She jumped a little. These new doors are powerful . . . She strode into the hangar, trying to not wring her hands.
Leia heard the Falcon had landed back in their apartment building’s ship port and wanted to greet her . . . partner? Boyfriend? Han? Yes, her Han —in person. Before she even got to the ship, she could hear Chewie grumbling to Han about needing a break
“Yeah, yeah, you furry oaf,” Han muttered as he closed a panel. “We’re gonna take a nice long vacation soon enough.”
“Hopefully there’s room on the trip for one more,” Leia called out, deciding to make her presence known.
Both creatures looked over, Han’s face lighting up when he realized she was there. “I’m sure we can make some space.”
He crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and pulled her in for a searing kiss.
Leia returned the kiss eagerly—their relationship was barely a month old, at the point where every kiss felt like the final kiss in a cheesy romance holofilm. She knew the romance wouldn’t always be quite this bright and passionate all the time—and he had just come back from a two standard week long mission—but she also knew that no matter what happened in their lives, he’s the only one for her.
And she was damn well going to let him know that every chance she got.
He broke the kiss first. “Miss me, sweetheart?”
She smirked. “Only a little.”
“Can’t wait for you to miss me a lot.”
Leia snorted and sank back from her tippy toes. “Do you have much left to do on the ship? I can help you close her down.” She started moving towards the Falcon ’s ramp.
Han stepped in front of her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Chewie’s got it, right pal?”
Chewie woofed and waved a paw at the two of them. Leia looked between the two of them, sensing something was up, but not wanting to question them right away.
“Well, as long as you’re okay with it, Chewie,” Leia called over. “Welcome back, by the way.”
Chewie barked back his thanks, urging them to go off and do their “human things” and leave him in peace.
Han spun Leia around, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I wonder what ‘human things’ Chewie was referring to . . .”
“We have plenty of time to find out, flyboy.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day, Leia strolled back into the hangar. Two of her meetings had been canceled, and now with the rest of her afternoon free, she decided to see what Han was up to.
As she strolled over to the Falcon , she saw Chewie on the top of the ship screwing down some panels.
“Hey Chewie!” Leia called up. After he growled out a greeting, she continued. “Is Han around?”
Chewie grumbled an explanation.
“Right, the debriefing,” she nodded. “Need a hand with repairs? I have the afternoon free. I’m sure you and Han have things to do now that you’re back.”
Chewie hesitated, his bright blue eyes darting over to the turbolift. After a beat, he grumbled and gestured for her to go up the ramp.
Leia glanced behind her for a moment, then went inside the ship.
As soon as she stepped inside, she couldn’t help but gasp. If the ship was messy before, it was downright dirty now. Leia carefully made her way through the halls, gingerly stepping over different piles of junk.
When she got to the galley, she put her hands on her hips, let out a breath, and got to work.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A few hours later, Han strolled up the ramp, whistling to himself.
“Chewie! Where are ya?”
“In here!” Leia called out.
Han froze, then started slowly walking to the galley.
Leia and Chewie were mid-clean, with piles of recycling and garbage surrounding them and cantina music blasting from the ship’s speakers.
“. . . What’s going on here?” Han asked, surveying the scene before him.
“Oh, just tidying up,” Leia said absently. “How was the briefing?”
“Good,” he muttered. “You two seem to have kept busy.”
Chewie started to grunt, but Leia started speaking before he could finish.
“Oh, it’s no trouble. It’s actually been kind of fun,” she replied. She stopped short when she saw his face. “What’s wrong?”
“I—This—,” Han stammered, struggling to speak. “You—You can’t just—go through my stuff like this!”
Leia was taken aback. “Go through your stuff? Han, I’m throwing out the trash! Actual trash, not the things that should be trash but you insist on keeping!”
“But it’s my ship! If I want the trash I should be able to keep it!” he fired back.
Leia opened her mouth to retort, but she saw his eye twitch and she stopped herself. She took a breath. “Han, let’s sit for a minute.”
Han furrowed his brow, but nodded, following her to the lounge seats.
She took his hand. “Han. What’s this really about?”
“What do you mean?”
“You aren’t really mad about this, are you?”
Han sighed and looked away. After a moment, he met her gaze.
“For a lot of years, it’s just been me and Chewie on this ship. She isn’t much and she can get . . . messy, but she’s mine. And sometimes, on a big job or mission, things can . . . get away from me more than usual. But there’s no one here to see it but Chewie.”
“But Han, you clearly need some help here. Why not come to me?” she asked, tilting her head.
“Because I’m embarrassed,” he muttered, staring at their joined hands.
Leia squeezed. “Han, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“Chewie’s stuck by my side for a long time, because of the life debt. He’s not going anywhere . . . But you could still—”
“Leave?” Leia finished.
Han didn’t answer.
“Honey, look at me,” she said, tilting his chin up to meet her eyes. “My love for you is not conditional—a messy ship is not going to scare me away, and neither will anything else you do. I know . . . this . . . is new, but it’s real, and it’s not going anywhere. Same with Chewie—I suspect the life debt isn’t the only reason he sticks around.”
He gave her a small lop-sided grin. “You think so?”
She smiled softly. “I do.”
Han pulled her to his side. “Thank you,” he whispered, kissing her temple.
“You don’t have to thank me,” she replied, snuggling against his chest.
After a moment, he got up. “Come on, I’ll help you clean under the sink.”