Han Solo (
twelve_not_fourteen) wrote2016-04-30 02:29 pm
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What makes us interesting is our secrets ...
In a galaxy full of space fairing captains who know their ships, Han stands out among them for being obsessive. From the moment he first sat in the pilot seat, before he could even call the ship his own, he’s been studying it.
He remembers what parts he’s replaced over the last two years and when. And he’s got a fair idea of what’s running down on him, though even the best mechanics can’t foresee every breakdown before it happens … especially not on a ship as persnickety as the Falcon. Han knows which of the hidden panels in his ship screech when you remove them. He could even tell which pads on the walls have a crack on them or what square on the holochess board has a chip on it.
He knows his ship.
However, even for a man who knows his ship as well as Han does, it’s hard to pick out some things. In this case, the something in question is an … optic? Some sort of camera? It’s by chance that he even notices it at all, considering the thing is hardly bigger than the size of his thumbnail and tucked into a grove were some power lines are running. He just happened to catch it out of the corner of his eye while walking up the ramp ...
It makes him wonder when did it get there? Who would have placed it there? The location doesn’t suggest they want to find any of the secret compartments of his ship as much as see who is going in and out. Odd. Does he know anyone who would want to watch every single person who came aboard the Falcon and left? He can’t think of anybody who would.
Anyway, he takes the camera over with him to the small section of the ship that he’s allocated to be the lounge and takes out his phone. He shoots a picture of the small camera in his palm and sends it to the only person he can think of that would be able to offer him any thoughts at all on the subject; the spy who has captured much of his attention of late.
The text that accompanies the picture reads:
Do you know what this is?
He remembers what parts he’s replaced over the last two years and when. And he’s got a fair idea of what’s running down on him, though even the best mechanics can’t foresee every breakdown before it happens … especially not on a ship as persnickety as the Falcon. Han knows which of the hidden panels in his ship screech when you remove them. He could even tell which pads on the walls have a crack on them or what square on the holochess board has a chip on it.
He knows his ship.
However, even for a man who knows his ship as well as Han does, it’s hard to pick out some things. In this case, the something in question is an … optic? Some sort of camera? It’s by chance that he even notices it at all, considering the thing is hardly bigger than the size of his thumbnail and tucked into a grove were some power lines are running. He just happened to catch it out of the corner of his eye while walking up the ramp ...
It makes him wonder when did it get there? Who would have placed it there? The location doesn’t suggest they want to find any of the secret compartments of his ship as much as see who is going in and out. Odd. Does he know anyone who would want to watch every single person who came aboard the Falcon and left? He can’t think of anybody who would.
Anyway, he takes the camera over with him to the small section of the ship that he’s allocated to be the lounge and takes out his phone. He shoots a picture of the small camera in his palm and sends it to the only person he can think of that would be able to offer him any thoughts at all on the subject; the spy who has captured much of his attention of late.
The text that accompanies the picture reads:
Do you know what this is?
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Oh, shit. It's not something Natasha had even considered. She thought he might take it apart but what are a few numbers going to mean to him?
Except, well. They're written in--how did he put it? Earth Characters.
Well, well, well. Han Solo's a brighter bulb than he lets on. Natasha is impressed and rightly so. He's managed to find something she hadn't considered all that carefully.
"Yeah, these sorts of things are Terran in origin." Natasha takes the transistor and turns it over between her fingers. Unlocks her phone and takes a photo or two of it. One from each side. "Betting we could find stuff like this in the Nexus pretty easily though. This place is a haven for black market goods."
Natasha sets the transistor down, raises an eyebrow toward Han. He must suspect just a little, right?
"Took any jobs while you were here? Who for? Were any of them working in competition? Against each other? Did you piss anyone off? Turn down a gal? There's plenty of reason to spy on anyone, Han. Intel, revenge, blackmail, stalking--Start with the easy questions. Do you have any enemies here?"
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That's a fact he hasn't been all that shy about hiding thus far. Mainly because he's been here for a couple weeks already and his ship hasn't moved. Even if he hadn't said as much to people, eventually they'd figure that the reason he hasn't left is because he can't.
"Mainly I've been playing cards." He says with a faint smirk. It doesn't sound like a job, but the way Han can hustle, it can be. It's just been a little slow going and, of course, you can't count on winning big every time. The fact that yes, gambling can make you enemies ... need not be said.
It's possible that it's one of them. Sure. It's possible that it could be a lot of different people though. Including the Black Widow.
"I'm not saying that you're behind the camera, Nat, but I sure would be curious to know what you might be trying to find out about me if you were."
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It's amused.
"So that's why you called me out here? And here I thought you might have gotten yourself into some trouble." Natasha's voice has taken a sultry tone to it just barely, teasing him and challenging him. What does he think she wants to know about him? How far is he willing to go to prove it? And does he really think he can make her give up her reasons for doing anything if she did have anything to do with it?
This started out as routine monitoring. It may just have turned into a game.
"You think I'd put something someplace where any kryffing drifter could find it?" She's using your lingo now, taking a slow, purposeful step closer to the Captain. "Though I'd be disappointed if you didn't consider me at least a little bit."
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Though a little bit of that self-satisfied amusement fades from his face when she starts picking on him. Wow and with the gall to use the insults of his people, too. He's not the only one with nerve in the room. He can feel his pulse start to race a little bit at the challenge.
"A kryffing drifter?" He says jerking a thumb up to his chest. "Me? You must have me confused with someone else, sweetheart. What I am is the best damn pilot you'll ever meet and a little more clever than most will give me credit for."
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"I'm the goddamned end of the world."
Her smile is mischievous, eyes glinting with promise and stories untold. She's a predator, poised to strike. Is Han the prey? Maybe, maybe not. It depends on what day it is. But it sure must feel like being cornered by a swaying cobra right now.
"I've yet to see that proven, though I could see the latter being true."
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He also likes to take his chances once in a while.
And his heart is racing in a way that feels so good that he just can't help himself. This is a man who flys too close to black holes to shave parsecs off the kessel run. A man who doesn't mind exchanging gunfire with people who deserve it. His life in the Nexus, all things considered, has been a little tame. He could use a little taste of danger again.
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SLAM.
Han is shoved against the hull of the ship before he can even identify the taste of Natasha's lips. Natasha is unreadably dangerous for a moment, gaze hard. She closes the distance between them, grabs onto Han Solo's collar and yanks him down hard enough to make him question whether he can breathe comfortably or at all. For about a second.
She presses her lips to his again, anything but gentle. And if he tries to take the lead too roughly, he'll get his lower lip bit for the trouble, though not hard enough to draw blood. She's crowded against the captain, pressing him against the wall and still holding onto his collar tightly. But she's also kissing him--sucking at his lip and returning anything he gives with fervor.
She keeps him like that for a good half a minute before she lets go and takes a step back. Natasha is remarkably put together for what just happened here. That was her attack.
"You were saying?"
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His own body.
Still, even with aggressive showing, Han seems perfectly content to kiss her deeply. Not roughly, per se, but greedily. He's swimming through the exchange with nearly every sense - the way she tastes, the way she feels while close to him, the way they breathe and stop, the way his heart drums in his chest and the ache of pain that seems to tie everything together in just the right way ...
"Last thing I remember was best pilot." He says trying not to smile too much. "Did you still want to see the stern?"
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She.
Natasha isn't sure how to respond to that.
At first. Punching him in the stomach (lightly) and laughing both seem like equally good choices here. She takes a moment to look him up and down and then rolls her eyes.
"Of course you would." She takes another step back, giving him room to pick himself up from where he's shoved up against the wall. Gestures down the hall with one hand. "After you."
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The Captain picks himself up off of the wall and takes a second to stretch out his back, thank you. It's suddenly a little tense for some reason. It's a pretty straightforward arching of the spine that he does and it causes an audible crack coming from his midback somewhere.
Now he's ready and it's not as if the walk to the stern is very far. Twenty meters or so gets them to the area. There's little more to it than an open space apart from something cylindrical in the center of it. There's also large structures affixed to the far wall.
"This is where most of my free space is." That said, it is what it is. A place for cargo. He's clearly not smuggling anything in a big open space now, is he?
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Natasha tucks her hair behind an ear and follows Han, tension easing out of her shoulders with every step until she's as casual as he is when they arrive at the bulk of his cargo space. It looks innocuous enough. Though he'd hardly be a good smuggler if it didn't.
She can think of at least three places offhand potentially housing 'extra' storage, but that's hardly her reason for being here. Natasha does take a moment to stand over a particular place on the floor, tapping the toe of her boot against the grating casually.
It's probably nothing except it's Natasha, and she doesn't do anything for no reason.
"Tch." Her phone comes out and opens with a swipe of her finger. "No hanging fixtures, and while they could feasibly put a tap under the grates or at an angle along the hull line, there is no good angle to get a good view of your storage area. Not to mention..." She gestures around her.
"It's empty right now."
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"It was a planned rest. I wouldn't take on a job without him."
After a moment, he shrugs off whatever feeling has seemed to come over him. "This is the area where someone who didn't intimately know the ship would be inclined to put a camera, anyway."
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There's something in his expression she needs to address. Her voice is quiet. Serious. Not steely and cold like it usually is, nor sarcastic and monotone. It's just...concerned.
"You're going to make it out of here. It's not an ultimatum to be sent here."
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Cliche as it is, marooning Han somewhere is like clipping the wings off a bird. Even with all the people he's met and friends he'll want to come back to ... there's something not right inside him and it's not going to be until he can come and go as he pleases.
"Yeah." He says with a nod, but he can't quite look her right in the eyes. "Nothing holds me down for too long."
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She can only imagine what he's going through. She'd have had a breakdown if she'd been separated from her world with all that's been going on there. With the people who need her. Depend on her.
"Or are you still trying to repair the ship?"
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"Still making repairs." He admits. "I landed with almost nothing except for the Falcon itself. Raising capital for parts and fuel has been taking a while. Got something lined up that I think is going to help that part, though."
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"And by that I mean, money is one obstacle, but having no doorway or path back home would be much more difficult to work around."
Were that the case, the only course of action would be to take stock in unsavory nexus Magic Users and Natasha doesn't trust those one bit. She's seen enough Weird in her life to be immediately mistrustful of anything supernatural until proven it is otherwise not to be considered a threat.
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"The fact that the falcon needs maintenance is my first problem. How to be able to leave and get back is something I haven't even begun to start thinking about."
It was the easy thought, at first, to get the ship fixed and get home. And yet, the longer he stays here in the Nexus, the more reasons he's finding to want to come back. Now it's not enough to get home. It's made his situation a lot more complicated.
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Natasha doesn't have limitless free time to investigate for Han, but she can certainly check her sources and see if there's any low hanging fruit on the grapevine to snag for information.
Plus, now she has to go sopping for better cameras to hide. So really she'd be hitting two birds with one stone.
"We'll get you home."
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He'll not meditate too deeply on the fact that she didn't hesitate to offer her help on something that was going to separate the two of them faster, because he ... well, maybe he's projecting, but he hopes that maybe it's because she realizes more than others how badly he's homesick.
The Captain thought for sure that he saw some genuine glimpses of concern for him in her desensitized facade. "It means more than you know." He murmurs finally. What the 'it' actually is? That's for her to decide.
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"The sooner you get back to work the sooner you can pay me back that dinner date you owe me." There's no doubt in her mind that Han will come back.
If he doesn't she'll understand, more than he'd like her to more than likely. She didn't grow up under a rock, so she has some idea of what his life could be like. But she also knows that things like this are hardly set in stone. She's seen proof of it already here in the Nexus.
"Anyway, I don't see too many other suspect places. You always leave your ramp down for strangers to go sticking things on board?" He raises an eyebrow once more. "I mean, I get that the ship's empty now, but still."
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"I do owe you that." He says with a slow and thoughtful nod. "Guess this means I'll have to stop loafing around and start getting to work. Wouldn't want to keep you waiting too long for something like that."
At he mention of the cameras, he will glance around the ship vaguely. He may not have even realized how much of sending Natasha the message about the cameras had to do with him just wanting an excuse to talk to her again and better yet, be around her. Really, he doesn't need her here to comb through the ship for cameras that may or may not be there.
She raises an interesting point, though. One that actually further makes her the more likely suspect by his line of thinking. "I'm not going to say it's impossible, but it's not likely that I left the ramp down long enough for someone to have snuck on and off without me noticing." More likely it would have been placed by someone he invited ...
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At least, that's what Natasha would say. She hopes there's at least a little suspicion that she's to blame for this. She's hardly had more than a moment alone on his ship anywhere, when could she even have found time to.
Though if she'd had time to plant it, he wouldn't have found it so easily. Of this she is certain.
"I'm sure a guy like you can do some kind of heavy lifting." She quirks an eyebrow, the side of her mouth twitching into something close to the start of a smile.
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"It's a pretty strong back, darling." He says and it's clear the smile hasn't quite left his eyes yet. "Since we could turn over this ship all day and not potentially find anything, maybe we should do something a little more interesting."
"I'd love a better look," not so innocent pause here, "... at your ride."
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The bike is sleek, black and even without understanding Terran designs altogether built for speed. The way it hugs the ground, forces the rider to lean forward to be more aerodynamic. Natasha flips the kickstand up in the same motion as she swings her leg over the bike and gets settled. The engine roars to life at her command and she gives Han a tiny smile from where she's sitting on the bike, leaning forward to rest her forearms on the grips.
"Like what you see?"
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Disney jokes, because is there anything they don't own yet?
Sorry, Natasha seemed to go quiet on me the last couple of days.
As always, no problem. We're just happy to see her now that she is.
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