#me wanting to draw a shootout - also me blasters hard

[aaeeart]

have a Zeb and Kanan

[spell-cleaver]

Astrophilia

@star-wars-wlweek

Day 5: Enemies to Lovers & Canon Divergence

Read it on AO3 or on FFN!

One world trapped under a mouse's paw saw Leia and Han having a peaceful moment at odds with the chaos around them, before she threw a glass of wine in his face.

"That's not normally how I drink Corellian wine."

"This is low, even for a scoundrel like you." Leia threw the glass down as well and marched away. "We are running for our lives from the Empire while on a mission of vital importance to the Rebellion. The only thing between us and capture are those electrical storms keeping the Imperials at bay." She jabbed her finger at the red clouded sky. "This is no time for your cheap attempts at seduction."

"This wine wasn't cheap, and pardon me for wanting a drink after just saving our lives."

"We wouldn't even be in this mess if you hadn't lost your nerve!"

"Lost my—" Han's indignant splutter sounded like a speeder backing up. "Lady, I've sailed from one end of this galaxy to the other, and believe me, there's nothing out there that could make me lose my nerve!"

But Leia wasn't listening anymore. "Did you hear that? Sounded like a ship."

"And for the record, I wasn't trying to seduce you! I'd sooner seduce a gundark!"

"That's not an Imperial ship. I thought you said no one else knew about this place."

"We should run. Now."

They did not run.

*

Her ship swung down and Qi'ra may have drawn too much satisfaction from the way Han unconsciously threw himself in front of the woman he was with. The woman was staring up at the ship, eyes narrowed, but Qi'ra evidently wasn't one of the Imperials hovering just outside the storms so she didn't run—yet. She landed, cracked open the landing ramp, and trotted down it.

The probes she'd left in atmo had paid off. She'd found Han again, and now he was going to pay.

She saw Han freeze and pale, even while his companion sized her up, from her surprisingly stylish spacer's gear to her blouse to her neatly bobbed hair, as well as the blaster in the holster at her belt. She didn't bother drawing it, yet, though both her and the woman were clearly ready to at a glance.

The woman wasn't uninteresting to look at, either. She had a familiar face, somehow, with pretty dark braids and a white jumpsuit with pockets, which looked easy to move around in. "Who are you?" she demanded.

Qi'ra responded by shooting. A warning shot, fair enough, but Han got the message when it skimmed his face. He opened his mouth to bluster something before she shoved her blaster back in the holster and spoke.

"I'm Qi'ra Solo," she said. "And Han"—another warning shot, eyes narrowed—"is my husband."

*

Three shootouts, a lot of yelling and another glass of wine in Han's face, staining his yellowing collar, later, and they were in a more amenable situation to discuss… everything.

"You're not after me," Organa—Leia Organa, the Rebel terrorist princess, as she apparently was—said, squinting at Qi'ra. "Just Han?"

Qi'ra sized her up. "I could get a good price for you with those Imperials up there, Princess, but I'm no bounty hunter. You wouldn't be worth it."

"Charmed." Qi'ra almost laughed, but didn't complain when Organa put her own blaster back in its holster and inclined her head towards an outcropping of rocks a few dozen paces away. "May I speak with you, then?"

"A peaceful negotiation? I wouldn't be opposed." Qi'ra glanced at Han. "However, if he escapes—"

"We'll be able to see him still. Shoot if he tries to make a run for it."

Han looked so wounded. "Leia—"

"We can talk later. Especially about the things you've apparently been lying about."

"She's not my wife!"

Organa looked a little regretful, but turned to Qi'ra anyway. She didn't want to negotiate, clearly, no matter what a scoundrel Han may have been to her. She wanted to protect Han—a sentiment Qi'ra could once have empathised with—since Qi'ra seemed so intent on either killing him or getting something from him, but she was smart enough to try to hear the full story before navigating unknown skies.

That was sensible. Qi'ra liked that.

Once they'd walked away a little, Organa cut right to the chase. "Why are you after Han?"

This woman clearly had an excellent ability to detect nonsense, but Qi'ra tried to string her along nonetheless. "As I said. He's my husband."

Organa said nothing, but her body language said it all: she shifted her weight onto her left foot, folded her arms and raised her eyebrows.

"We were married," Qi'ra insisted, trying not to smile. She was canny, then. No wonder Han liked her.

"Han may be a scoundrel and a thousand other things, but he doesn't strike me as the type who would lie about being single when he has an," she looked her up and down, "apparently very loyal wife."

…blast Han and his overwhelming, foolish tendency to play the good guy even when he was trying to be immoral.

A blast Organa's judge of character for being able to see it.

Still, she tried. "My apologies if he led you on, then." She gave a pointed look to the spilled wine that still stained his front. "I know he can be… seductive."

Qi'ra desperately wanted to laugh, so she was relieved when Organa laughed for her. "Him? No. I'm afraid not." She straightened up. "But he is my friend, so I'd prefer it if he wasn't harmed. So I want to know the truth of your involvement with him."

"That is the truth." Qi'ra shrugged. "We were childhood sweethearts, we were roped together years later in a job to steal some coaxium… and we only escaped with our crew by staging a fake wedding."

Organa stared at her in blatant disbelief for a moment.

Then she shook her head and snorted again. "Of course he did."

"And then," Qi'ra emphasised, her tone growing colder, "he ran off with my cut."

Organa shut her mouth. "That also sounds like him."

"I want my husband back," Qi'ra said with a wicked-sharp grin, "and I want the cut he owes me."

It wasn't even necessarily about the money, she had to admit. It just also happened to be the principle of the thing. Sana, Lando, dozens of others involved in the underworld knew that he had double-crossed her, for thousands of credits. If she let it slide when she, quite literally, had him cornered, that would hardly dissuade people from crossing her again.

Organa looked at her intenty. She seemed to be mulling it over.

"What do you mean by you want Han?" she pressed. "Do you just want your credits, or do you want to take it out in blood as well."

Han, still in earshot, noticeably went pale, but still didn't interrupt, thankfully.

She considered it. "I'm not a sadist. I don't have my heart set on violence. But you understand that vengeance prevents other people from double-crossing you the same way."

Leia Organa, Princess of Alderaan, was someone who should have known nothing about those brutal, underhanded tactics, but Qi'ra supposed from her flattened lips that she did have her own personal experience with cruelty.

"It doesn't," she replied. "Fear only works so far. Eventually, the only this it teaches is how subtle you need to be."

"Of course a Rebel would say that."

"Of course a Rebel would know." She met her gaze, hard and level. "I won't let you hurt Han. If you do, I'll shoot you. No matter how skilled you are, that's two against one."

"Han would say never tell him the odds," Qi'ra parried.

"You're smarter than Han."

Han's "Hey!" told them he was still listening intently, but that wasn't what had Qi'ra red lips curving into a smile.

"More like you?" she pushed, watching Organa closely. Her eyes had been arrested on her lips by the smile, and only now did she flick them up to lock their gazes again.

"Indeed," she said, voice smooth.

"So we're at an impasse?" Usually Qi'ra was more frustrated by such a situation, but Organa was… fun… to spar with.

And even now she looked thoughtful. Thoughtful, and resolute.

"Not quite," she suggested. "Han is far from skint. He recently did a great service to me and earned a great reward. He is meant to pay off Jabba with it"—of course; Han was in hot water with that slug, too—"but since it's been months and he seems to have no inclination to go to Tatooine to actually do so, I feel the credits would be better used here."

Han opened his mouth to protest, but Organa cast him a stern look and it fizzled out. He was as rambunctious as ever, then, but now had the sense to know when a good deal was being negotiated for him.

"We are agreed," Qi'ra said. Through it was subtle, she read the relief in Organa's relaxing shoulders.

When Organa held out her hand to shake on it, Qi'ra went one step further and took it, kissing the back of it gently.

Organa—Leia—froze for half a moment, her expression torn between excited and scandalised. But she was back to her stoic, professional face a moment later as she gently took her hand back.

She was still a little stiff, but the smile she gave Qi'ra was not disinterested.

"Han," she called, "do you have the credits with you on the Falcon?"

Han grimaced. "I… left them back on base." It was a poor excuse for getting out of this, if he was using it for that, but Qi'ra didn't think he was.

"Then we'll have to take Qi'ra with us when we return, give her the credits, then drop her back here to retrieve her ship." Leia seemed unruffled even as Han gaped at her.

"Take me back to the Rebel base? You are bold."

"You shan't be allowed onto it, of course, nor to know the coordinates, location, or see any part of it. But I wouldn't want you to stay behind and think we were running off. I assume you have no trackers on you?"

"No."

"Good."

Qi'ra suggested, "You could send Han back for the credits and remain here with me as a guarantee."

"With the Imperials in the sky? Not a chance. Besides," she glanced at the hand Qi'ra had held hers with, "I may convince you to join the cause along the way."

Qi'ra laughed out loud. "That will never happen."

The disappointment that pinched Organa's face was hardly visible, but her voice grew flatter. "Then this will be our only voyage together." She gestured ahead. "Shall we?"

Qi'ra smiled at her, oblivious to Han staring in confusion. "We shall."