Han fiddled vigorously with his cockpit chair, pulling it backwards and forwards, up and down.

"Can you believe this?" He pulled a small lever on his right side and his seat zipped forward to the control panel. "Firstly, she steals the falcon, fair enough it wasn't exactly in our hands before. Then the tries to tell me the kessel run took 14 parsecs, everybody knows it was twelve. Then just to top it off before we get back what's rightfully ours... she moves the seat."

Fortunately, between Han and Chewbacca there wasn't another seat to be meddled with and you enjoyed your residency moving from pod to pod as you did general maintenance duties.

"How did you know it was Rey that changed your seating position? It could have been any of the people that sat there." Han cocked an eyebrow and ran his eyes over the glowing buttons before raising his hands away from the panel.

"Because it was pulled really close in, I could barely squeeze my knees in. But how many people do you think touched my ship? It must have been bouncing from owner to owner for what? Thirty years or so. Hundreds of beings must have had their grubby hands all over my console. And do you think anybody considered wiping it down?" He brought his face close as he inspected his ship closely.

"I doubt it. What do you care anyway? How clean do you think the walking furball is?"

"Hey! I'll have you know that Chewy washes at least once a week, twice if we go anywhere particularly funky."

"I know you only picked me up a few planets ago but I've smelt that Wookie. Trust me, none of them could have left more of a stink than him." Han pushed himself from the chair and strolled down into the maintenance bay.

"Maybe over the years I just got used to it. Come on, grab a mop. Or some disinfectant or something... I don't know. We've got thirty years of alien grime and this is a big ship for two men and a Wookie."

"We have the First Order on our back, we have most of the map to find Luke Skywalker and you're more worried about giving the Falcon a spring clean?"

"Oh, I'm sorry." He slung the dusty mop over his shoulder and filled up a metal bucket with soapy water. "Can you pilot the ship? Hm? No, I didn't think so. Now stop moaning and help."

~*~

Written by Aaron.