That's my Ship - Han Solo (Star Wars)

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A/N: Italics is Wookie (wookish?) which you are fluent in. Yay you! Italics and bold is Greedo. 

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You'd been hunting for Han Solo and the Falcon for a long time. Every time you thought you'd found him, he seemed to disappear just before you arrived. Your task would have been infinitely easier if you weren't trying to keep your own identity a secret. You had a price on your head and were doing your best to make sure it stayed on your shoulders where it belonged. The fact a good portion of the galaxy thought you dead, made the task a bit easier.

You had little hope your recent venture would be any different, but you traveled to Tatooine nonetheless. It was there in a secluded little alcove, you found her. Your ship. The Millennium Falcon. 

Lando had left you for dead and stolen her. He'd then lost her to Han in a card game. The smuggler's current possession of it, didn't make it any less yours. You grinned as you stepped over to her, running your hand against any part you could touch. Man had you missed her. Almost as much as you'd missed her current pilot. You jogged up the ramp, turning in a slow circle when you made it inside. You tossed back the hood of the robe you wore and slid off your dark glasses. 

A pair of wookie feet sticking out from under a console caught your eye. You leaned against the wall, arms crossed over your chest. "Hello, furball," you said. 

Chewie slid out and practically squealed when he saw you. He scrambled to his feet and wrapped you in a gigantic hug. He spun you a circle while he continued to celebrate your arrival.

You patted his arm. "I missed you, too, big guy, but I can't breathe."

He sat you down and chattered at you. Does Han know you're back?

You shook your head. "No, I haven't seen Han yet. I've been trying to catch up with you two almost since he won my ship."

He cocked his head to the side. That's a long time.

"You're telling me. Where is he?"

Getting parts.

"Hey Chewie, you get that panel fixed yet?" Han's voice came from outside and you heard his feet thud on the ramp. 

Your heart skipped a beat. How you'd missed that scruffy man. 

Chewie made a sound of encouragement behind you and shoved you forward a step before he disappeared toward the cockpit. 

Han stepped into view his eyes glued to the part in his hands as he fiddled with it. Your breath caught. Your poor memory of the gorgeous man had nothing on the real thing. 

"Chewie, did you get it fixed or not? I got the part we need for the rear gun." 

"Hi, Han." Your voice was soft and broke slightly on his name. 

"Hey," he said distractedly barely glancing at you before turning back to the part in his hand. 

You counted in your head, getting to two before the smuggler froze and looked up slowly. His eyes widened as he took you in and the part fell from his hands. In three long strides he was in front of you. His hands framed your face, undoubtedly getting grease on your cheeks but you didn't care. 

"Y/N," he breathed as his eyes took in your every feature. "How are you here? I thought you were dead."

You hummed in agreement. "I get that a lot." You hooked your hands around his wrists. "I missed you, Han Solo."

Tears came to his eyes though they didn't fall. "Not as much as I missed you, Y/N Solo."

His lips crashed into yours and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You'd started to give up hope you'd ever end up here again. You had never been so glad to be wrong.

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