"I wish we were homeless so drinking on the streets was acceptable." (Chewbacca to Han)
Help these are so great I did three when I should have been writing exchange fic, oooooops. ---- "Maz isn't that bad," Han declared as he paced through the cruiser. The ceiling of the small ship wasn't cramping by human scale, but a Wookiee had to bend to climb into and out of the front seats, a fact that Chewbacca continually howled about.
Along with many other things.
"Okay, okay." Han stowed another load of cargo in the back. "Listen, when a--sapient being walks into a bar, if he hasn't gotten into too much trouble by the first drink, people are going to flirt with him. Take it to heart."
Chewie growled, and punched at the computer.
"Well, she knows I'm married, see."
The engines hummed and muttered.
"Technically."
Chewbacca brought up a screen asking them to set coordinates, and Han paused in front of it. Impatient, Chewbacca began typing at it.
"No, 'anywhere that's not here' isn't a place."
Chewie glared.
"Look, just because I don't know the most profitable place to sell the kind of junk Maz collects doesn't mean it isn't valuable, okay? I'll bet you you could make a lot more money here, if you just gave her a chance."
Chewie held up both paws.
"Five credits."
Nod.
"All right, all right, we can get out of here."
(Neither of them followed up with the bet. What they had they shared, anyway, in good times and in bad. Besides, by the time they met up with anyone who'd ever dropped something off at Maz's cantina, all of those people seemed more relieved about having gotten rid of whatever they were toting around with them than the money they got for it.
And Lando Calrissian never knew how close their paths came to crossing then and there, still carrying a tiny piece of the weight of history, fallen from the sky into darkness.)
Re: Any/Any or Gen - Text From Last Night:
Help these are so great I did three when I should have been writing exchange fic, oooooops.
----
"Maz isn't that bad," Han declared as he paced through the cruiser. The ceiling of the small ship wasn't cramping by human scale, but a Wookiee had to bend to climb into and out of the front seats, a fact that Chewbacca continually howled about.
Along with many other things.
"Okay, okay." Han stowed another load of cargo in the back. "Listen, when a--sapient being walks into a bar, if he hasn't gotten into too much trouble by the first drink, people are going to flirt with him. Take it to heart."
Chewie growled, and punched at the computer.
"Well, she knows I'm married, see."
The engines hummed and muttered.
"Technically."
Chewbacca brought up a screen asking them to set coordinates, and Han paused in front of it. Impatient, Chewbacca began typing at it.
"No, 'anywhere that's not here' isn't a place."
Chewie glared.
"Look, just because I don't know the most profitable place to sell the kind of junk Maz collects doesn't mean it isn't valuable, okay? I'll bet you you could make a lot more money here, if you just gave her a chance."
Chewie held up both paws.
"Five credits."
Nod.
"All right, all right, we can get out of here."
(Neither of them followed up with the bet. What they had they shared, anyway, in good times and in bad. Besides, by the time they met up with anyone who'd ever dropped something off at Maz's cantina, all of those people seemed more relieved about having gotten rid of whatever they were toting around with them than the money they got for it.
And Lando Calrissian never knew how close their paths came to crossing then and there, still carrying a tiny piece of the weight of history, fallen from the sky into darkness.)