Actions

Work Header

it's a hard day's night

Work Text:

Leia first learns she’s pregnant from her cheeky little shit of a brother. He returns home after freeing yet another part of the Outer Rim, somewhere near Lothal this time. She should remember better; she signed off on the mission herself when he slid it across her desk.

He steps off his X-wing, boyish grin brightening at the sight of her. Then he looks down from her face to her stomach, frowns a bit, then smiles.

She raises an eyebrow. He nods.

“I’m going to neuter Han next time I see him,” she grinds out as she hugs her baby brother. “Also, welcome back.”


 

Han’s ecstatic, when he gets the news. Then he starts to look a little terrified, because Leia in a mood? Rather hair-raising when she gets that look in her eyes.

He starts preparing himself for six months of supply runs out in Wild Space.


 

Chewie howls joyfully when he gets the news. Then it’s back to sass and snark as usual.

[Congrats, Solo. Are you packing up and running now?]

Solo gives him a baleful glare. “Look, she’s pretty pissed, and it’s called giving someone space, okay?”

He barks out a laugh.

[Nothing to do with how she’s threatening to castrate you, huh.]

Solo pales and tells him to hurry up.

Oh, they are a fun pair. Chewie looks forward to the day he can hold his honorary nephew in his arms.


 

They’re a couple days into hyperspace (yep, he was right about that six month mission to Wild Space) when the flickers start happening. Not many at first, and it’s just the lights blinking out for a moment or two.

After the third time it’s happened in as many hours, with no clear engineering cause, Han sighs.

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

Chewie growls in annoyance.

“Yes, I know I get us into trouble every time I say that! Doesn’t mean I’ll stop saying it.”

Chewie just rolls his eyes.


 

It’s the middle of the night, and Han doesn’t know why he woke up. They’re still in hyperspace, and nothing’s broken or set on fire and Chewie’s on controls for now. Then he looks to the left of his bed, where a glowing Force apparition sits, watching him sleep.

When this story is retold, he denies that he screamed and drew the blankets up around him. It was an ingrained smuggler reaction to a near-stranger just appearing in his room, okay?

The ghost of Vader – well, Anakin Skywalker now, he supposed – stares at him unflinchingly.

When the silence grows long and awkward, he decides to break it.

“Um, not to be rude, but why in the nine Corellian hells are you here?”

Skywalker tilts his head and blinks his eyes slowly, like a large, menacing predator. Then he grins, and his smile is full of sharp, shiny teeth.

“Are you going to marry my daughter, or not?”

Of all the things he was expecting out of this alarmingly early conversation, marriage was not one of them. He paused, and immediately knew that he had screwed up when he hesitated.

Skywalker raised one eyebrow in a manner disturbingly like his children, and he winked out of existence.

“It’s on, Solo.”


 

[Shift change, Solo.]

“Right, Chewie, just give me ten minutes.”

He stumbles to the ‘fresher, barely suppressing a jaw-cracking yawn. Last night’s strange visitor was definitely not welcome, and he hadn’t slept well after that.

He looked at himself in the mirror, and immediately let out a long, low string of curses.

Somehow, in his sleep, his hair had been dyed a dark purple. Every. Single. Strand.

When Chewie saw him, he laughed so hard he fell out of his chair.

Skywalker was a dead man, next time he saw him. Well, he’s already dead, but that’s a moot point.

(No one tells him how hard it is to return a prank on an incorporeal dead man.)


 

The next time he saw Skywalker, it was late at night, he was going to the kitchenette for a cup of caf, and out of the corner of his eye he saw a blue glow.

In the next moment, his sheaf of notes was smacking him over the head. On their own. No, honestly, they were on the table one moment, then they were floating and flying after him the next.

“Get the hells off me! Good gods, man!”

Only after he barricaded himself in the ‘fresher did they stop chasing him. He thought he could hear faint echoes of laughter.

That utter asshole.


 

Two weeks in, and he was done. He hadn’t been able to take a shower properly in days (somehow the water always ran cold, and the sonic broke), a full night’s rest was a thing of the past (okay, look, once he woke up with Skywalker’s face hovering an inch above his. That was not a pleasant awakening), and he just wanted his damn caf back, not this stupid tea.

He sits down, and since he has no idea how to contact a dead bastard, he does the next best thing. He calls Luke.

“Hey, kid.”

“Hey yourself. What’s up?”

The kid looks good, like he’s enjoying this post-Empire, slavery-quelling life that he’s now leading.

“Oh, nothing much. Just wondering how your Jedi voodoo can explain why my hair’s now purple.”

Luke grins. “Father was always a bit of a prankster.”

And with those parting words, he signs off. Han gapes at his terminal for a bit, before letting loose yet another stream of curses.

Later that day, he gets a message.

[Look, have you tried asking her?]

He frowns. He’s never talked about that with Luke, or Skywalker, or Chewie, or anybody really.

[No. Should I try?]

Luke takes a while to respond, but before long, his comm chimes. [Only do or do not, there is no try.]

Han rolls his eyes at the Jedi-esque reply. [Shove off, kid.]

He wakes to a single message the next morning.

[:P]

Gods, Luke was such a cheeky brat.


 

After enduring three more days of Force ghost pranks, he caves and comms the base.

“Hello, Princess.”

“Hello yourself, you glorified nerfherder.”

“Three weeks, and that’s all you say to me? I’m hurt, Princess, really am.”

She rolls her eyes, but it’s fond, not mocking. “Oh stuff it, you big baby.”

His grin freezes in place. “Speaking of babies…”

“For Force’s sake, Solo, just say what I think you’re going to say, then we can talk about it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”


 

She says yes.

He feels a faint pressure on his shoulder when he ends the call, and the Force ghost (because honestly, not believing in the Force when a crazy old man tells you about it is one thing, but when a former Jedi Knight and Sith Lord decides that pranking you from beyond the grave is acceptable? He started believing in that stuff real fast) pats him a few times before grinning again and disappearing.

He gulps. His father-in-law is going to be one scary bastard.


 

He tells Luke. Luke just beams and says, “Yeah, I already knew.”