Title: No Force Rentals - Han and I
Author: Gillian Taylor
Characters: Han/Other
Category: Humor//Drama
Summary: Inspired by various requests on the origins of the relationship between Han and Gillian.

"No Force Rentals - Han and I"

I was ready to throw out my hat, literally.  The damn
cap that I had to wear around work was really getting
annoying.  I'm one that doesn't exactly appreciate
having something emblazoned 'Coruscant Port Authority'
on top of my head.  It wouldn't have been so bad if I
had at least had something to do with the ships other
than just making sure that the engines had enough
coolant and that they were at least in working
condition.  But noooo, lets let the stupid Engineering
apprentice do grunt work.  She wouldn't complain.
Noooo, she's a good little girl.  A little quiet,
perhaps, but a good little girl.

Sometimes I wanted to kill them all.  I jerked the
'spanner a little too hard and was rewarded with a
high pitched humming noise, "SHIT!" I swore loudly and
frantically re-tightened the bolt, barely, *barely*
preventing a major explosion.  This was just not my
day.

I didn't notice that someone was watching me until it
was almost too late to turn around. 

"What the hell are you doing to my ship?" an angry
voice said to me and I spun around defensively.

"I'm doing what I was told to do," I snapped before my
eyes met his chest and rose up to meet the greyest
eyes that I've ever seen.  For once in my life I was
struck speechless.

"Not on my ship you don't!"

I finally found my tongue and I stood, gearing myself
for defense, "Look, pal, I don't care who you are or
why you're here on Coruscant, but this is NOT
Correllia and I will not be interrupted from my job."

He startled me by laughing once, "I'll give you that,
kid, but I don't like anyone touching my ship except
me or Chewie."

'Chewie,' the name registered in my brain,
'Chewie...OH SHIT.  Han Solo!  That's who this is!'  I
took a closer look at him and it wasn't lost on me
that he appeared a lot younger than the Han Solo that
*I* knew about, "Who are you?"

"Shouldn't that be my question?"

"Gillian Taylor," I said with a shrug, "Current
Corustant Port Authority grunt and Engineering
apprentice."

"Han Solo, free-trader."

'Free trader,' I thought with an inner grin,
'Smuggler.'  "Nice to meet you, Han.  But if you don't
mind, I need to finish checking this hunk of junk
before I can let you get out of here."

"Hey!  This is the fastest hunk of junk in the
galaxy!"

"Sure, and I'm Queen Amidala," I said sarcastically.

"Strange, you don't look like the Queen," he retorted.

"But somehow *you* do," I shot back.

"Ha. Ha," he said dryly.

"Thank you," I responded with a grin, "I always knew I
was humorous."  For some reason I found myself drawn
to him and to his ship.  Sure, I had nursed a crush on
the elder Han Solo for years, but this was different.
This wasn't the same Han Solo or my name wasn't
Gillian Taylor.

"Dream on, kid."

I gave him a half-smile, "Now will you let me get on
with my work?"

"No."

"No?"

"No," he said again, "Not until you get out of there
and get something to drink."

"And I'm assuming that I'd have to drink with you?"

"You have a problem with that?"

"I might,"  I retorted, "I don't think that I'd want
to walk into a cafeteria or even a bar with you."
'He's so cute...Shut up Gill.'

"And why's that?"

"You're uglier than a kryt dragon, for one thing.  For
the other, you're still drivin' one of these."

"What's wrong with the YT-1400?"

"Nothing except for the fact that its older than the
Old Republic and its technology was advanced in the
dark ages," I said, almost haughtily.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," I said with a sharp nod.

He got a look in his eyes that I could only describe
as mischief, "Then come with me, Ms. "I know
everything there is to know about spaceships." I'll
show you how wrong you are about this ship."

"Fine!" I responded, following him into the Falcon.

I had to admit that I was being a bitch.  I wasn't
usually that abrupt with perfect strangers, and most
especially not with someone that I was attracted
to--that I knew about.  I apologized after he showed
me the advanced navicomputer and I found myself
telling him everything about this job, about my
school, and about how I dreamed of being a pilot. 

"If you hate the job so much, Gill, you should just
quit," he advised me now almost gently.

"I can't!" I said miserably, "If I quit the job, I
lose the credit hours that I've accumulated thus far.
A job is a requirement for graduation.  If I don't
graduate, I don't make it out of here."

Han rested his hand on my shoulder briefly, "I'm
sorry, Gill.  If I could help you, I would.  And I'm
sorry about yelling at you earlier."

"You don't have to apologize, Han.  I was being very
bitchy to you...I wouldn't blame you if you kicked me
off of your ship and refused to let me anywhere near
the Falcon."

He laughed, "Nah, I wouldn't do that...You *really*
think that I look like Queen Amidala?"

I chuckled at that, "Add a little bit of white makeup,
a red mark on your lip and an elaborate head-dress and
dress, sure.  But then again, anyone would be a close
impersonation of her with that criteria."

"Very true," he grinned at me.

We spoke for a few hours inside the Falcon, and it
ended up that I wouldn't have to worry about the job
anymore.  I was fired for 'socializing on the job.'  I
didn't even bother to fight the ruling and went in
search for another job.

An eventful month passed quickly, and between exams
and my friends I had little time to think of the young
Han Solo.  However, history has a way of repeating
itself and I found myself in 'Petey's Bar and Grill,'
a local college eatery, when a familiar voice said
behind me, "What the hell are you doing to my ship?"

I grinned, a fry half-popped in my mouth as I
responded, "Nothing that you haven't already done to
it, Han.  How are you?"

He walked into view and he was just as good-looking as
I remembered, "Good, surprisingly good.  So, what
brings you to this neck of the woods?"

"The food," I responded, taking another bite of my
fry.

"I figured that much.  Still working at the Port?"

I shook my head, "Nope, got fired for 'socializing on
the job.'"

"Damn...me?"

"No, more like me," I shrugged, "I wanted to get out
of there as fast as I could.  You just helped me get
out faster."

"As long as I could be of service."

I grinned, "Just do me a favor and don't come to my
new place of work."

"And where's that?"

"You think I'd tell you?"

He pouted for a moment, but upon seeing that it wasn't
working, he shrugged himself, "Probably not.  So,
what're you up to?"

I told him everything that had happened to me after I
last saw him, not mentioning my new place of work of
course.  He told me about the Kessel Run that he did
in '12 parsecs' and I was forced to admit *again* that
he did have a fast ship.  We spoke for over an hour,
bantering back and forth about many a topic.  However,
it was over all too soon.

"I've got to run, kid.  Its time for us to go to
Arkania."

"Arkania?  Why would you want to go there?"

"Supplies," he said softly, "They're in trouble out
there, Gill.  And they want me to run them supplies."

"Oh no..." I said with a sigh, "The Imperials again?"

"Maybe, maybe not, but...would you want to come with
me?"

I looked at him as if he had suddenly spouted a horn
from his head, "You want me to come with you?"

"Yeah.  You wanted to know what it was like being a
pilot.  Why not learn what its like being a
free-trader at the same time?"

"You trying to recruit me, you scruffy-looking
nerfherder?"

"Never said I wasn't, you spotted tauntaun."

"Spotted tauntaun?" I repeated with a laugh.

"Hey, I was pressed for time!"

"Sad, very, very sad."

"Thank you," he grinned.

A few hours later, I was on the Falcon bound for
Arkania with Han and Chewie.  School was not a problem
given that I was officially on Spring Break.  As long
as I got back before the 7th, I was fine.  'Besides,'
I admitted to myself, 'Its just a three day journey.
One to get there, one to offload, one to get back.
That's it.'

What I wasn't counting on was getting arrested,
breaking a leg, and getting assaulted by a rabid
animal over the course of a full week.  It was a very
long week, and one that I didn't care to repeat or
even talk about ever again.

By the time that we left Arkania and reached
Coruscant, I was barely able to move, let alone walk
myself home.  Han refused to let me call a cab,
instead choosing to help me home with Chewie in tow. 

To my humiliation, I stumbled exiting the spaceport,
ramming my injured foot painfully against the curb.
Without even asking me, Chewie lifted me in his arms
and carried me most of the way home.  I told him to
put me down till I was blue in the face, but he
refused to even let my feet touch the ground.
Privately, I had to admit that it probably was for the
best given the distance that we had to travel and that
my foot was throbbing in 2/4 time.

I, however, refused to let any man, even a walking
carpet, carry me into my own apartment, "Would you put
me down, Chewie?  I need to open the door."

"Rrrrrroooowwwwrrrrr,"  he responded.

"Yeah, put her down," Han said, "She can't hurt
herself here."

'Famous last words,' I thought, grimacing despite
myself as my feet touched the floor.  I fished around
in my pocket for my keys, pulling them out
triumphantly.  I opened the door and flipped on the
switch, only to be met with the faces of my five
closest friends welcoming me home. 

I gasped and lost my footing all in the space of an
instant.  My hand went out before me to try and
cushion my fall, but the next thing that I knew my
finger twisted painfully, "This week SUCKS!" I
exclaimed forcefully, ignoring my friend's concerned
gazes.  I managed to lift myself off of the floor, and
insisted that I was fine.

Crysta came towards Han and I with a tentative smile
on her face, "Uh...welcome home, Gill."

"Thanks," I responded, trying to prevent myself from
gritting my teeth in pain.  I turned back towards Han,
giving him a half-smile.  I was probably going to
regret doing this, but it had to be done if I wanted
to live to see tomorrow, "Han, Chewie, these are my
friends.  This is Crysta Novelli, the tall girl behind
her is Jerri Kun, that's Tara Gvenst and that's
N'tasha."

Han flashed a smile at each of them, "Hi."

"Hello, Han," Tara said, sliding up to him.  I
swallowed nervously, Tara was the first person in the
'PVC' to fall...her gusto for all things male was
legendary in my small group of friends.  I was not
looking forward to this 'confrontation.'

Han began to look distinctly uncomfortable as Tara
attempted to engage him in conversation, and I took it
on myself to rescue him, "Han, would you like
something to drink before you go?" 

"Nah, kid, thanks though.  I'd better get going," he
said, thankful that I was giving him an excuse to
leave Tara's rather forward attentions.

"Not a problem.  The least I could do after that
trip," I responded with a grin.

"Nice to meet the rest of you," he said, backing out.

"Are you sure that you don't want my phone number?"
Tara asked plaintively, and though I love her dearly I
was sorely tempted to drag her by her long hair out of
the room.

Han shook his head and escaped outside the apartment.
I waved at their backs before closing the door with a
thankful sigh.  At least that part was over.  However,
now came the hard part.  I turned around to face four
pairs of curious eyes and wished that, for a split
second, I hadn't come home.  "What?"

"You were spending your break with THAT HUNK?" Tara
asked, and I could practically see the drool coming
out of her mouth.

"He asked me to come with him to deliver some
supplies.  It was just for a couple of days..." I
tried to explain.

"Yeah, right...so...did you do it?" Tara asked me,
eager for any details that I might (but didn't) have.

"No.  I didn't 'do' it," I said, using the tips of my
fingers to emphasize the quotes around the 'do.'

"Damn...and I bet he's good in bed."

"TARA!" Jerri scolded her, "Leave Gill alone, can't
you tell that she's exhausted?  Come on Gill, lets get
you to bed.  We'll come by tomorrow for lunch.  And
then I expect to hear the FULL story."

I looked at her gratefully, at least she knew that all
I really wanted to do at that point was fall
face-forward on my bed and sleep until judgment day.
I caught Crys' eyes with my own and mentally asked her
to stay after the others left.  There was only so much
that I could deal with at that time, and Crys was the
only person that I could stand at that point.

After everyone left, I asked Crys to have a seat on my
couch, "This is going to be a long story with lots of
adventure."

"Lots and lots of adventure?" 

"Yup.  Basically..."  I launched into the tale,
leaving nothing out.  I was enjoying myself watching
the myriad expressions crossing her face at almost
every point, but the best had to be when I mentioned
my arrest.

"You were WHAT?"

"Arrested," I responded calmly, inwardly chuckling at
her reaction.

"Why?!"

"Basically because I was in the wrong place at the
wrong time," I confessed, "I had gone into a bar to
wait for Han and Chewie.  The thing is, I wasn't
expecting to walk right into a Hutt war zone."

"WHAT?!"

"You heard me.  Seems that Gardula the Hutt owed Jabba
some money and refused to pay up.  The entire bar was
on either one side or the other, except for me.  I was
keeping to the side of the room, trying to be as small
as possible.  That's when the cops arrived.  They
arrested everyone...that is, everyone that couldn't
wave enough cash in their faces to let them go.  So, I
was arrested."

A single arched eyebrow was her only response.

"I got out of it...but I owe Han a favor."

"Oh?  What kind of a favor...Gill?" Crysta said
teasingly, of course.

"Not THAT kind of a favor, twit," I responded,
"Basically...I owe him because he got me out of a
jam."

"Sure."

I grinned at her and chose to continue the line,
"Fine."

"Whatever!"  we said in chorus. 

We spoke for a few more minutes before I professed,
truthfully, that I really was exhausted.  She grinned
at me once before leaving my apartment and I in turn
did just as what I was planning to do earlier: I
collapsed face-first on my bed and fell asleep.