This was supposed to be a one shot; it didn't work out that way. Is there such a thing as a three shot? My thanks to StatsGrandma57 for her help and suggestions.

The Proposal

Chewie stared at the pair of scuffed black boots sticking out of the Millennium Falcon's forward engineering compartment in disbelief. Somehow, he would have imagined that with his wedding fast approaching—four weeks and three days, if the Wookiee's math was correct—he would have imagined that Han Solo had better things to do than to tinker with his precious ship's particle sensor array. Then he snorted out a fat chuckle. No, Chewie corrected himself, this is exactly where I would expect to find him! His friend was nothing if not consistent; if there was something bothering him, Han always turned to the Falcon as therapy.

Heading to the main hold, Chewbacca deposited the carton containing his and Han's midday meals onto the holotable. His nose twitched, and he could feel the saliva pool in his mouth. He was very hungry and was already regretting that he'd only ordered three rare nerfburgers; he would have been happier with four! But the last time he'd visited Malla, she'd chided him for getting flabby, poking his midsection with a stiff finger. A broad grin spread across the Wookiee's face; what had followed afterward had proved to his wife he hadn't lost all of his primal skills from living on Coruscant!

Licking his lips, Chewie bellowed for Han to join him for his meal. There was no answer. With one last longing look at the carton of food, he headed to the forward compartment.

Standing below the boots, Chewie barked out a query. Still no answer. Didn't the man want to eat? It wasn't like Han to miss a meal. With a snarl, the Wookiee banged his large fist on the wall next to the open trapdoor.

There was a thud, which sounded very much like a head banging into a bulkhead, followed by a string of very creative Corellian curses before Han dropped lightly to his feet on the floor of the little compartment.

"What?" Han asked, wiping the sheen of perspiration off his forehead with the back of his arm, leaving a smudge of dirt in its wake.

Chewie had intended to tell him that lunch was there, but instead hooted with mirth.

"What?" Han asked again, now with more than a trace of irritation evident in his voice.

Still laughing, Chewie grabbed a nearby towel and launched it in Han's direction. The Corellian snatched it neatly out of the air with one hand.

"Very funny, Furball," he said as he wiped the dust off his face. "Food's here, I suppose?"

Chewie sniffed the air and nodded vigorously. He headed back to the main hold, Han following in his wake.

The two friends sat at the holotable in silence for a few minutes. Chewbacca devoured his first burger with enthusiasim, noting that Han merely played with the edge of the wrapper on his. Chewie's furry eyebrows rose as he saw his friends eyes shift back to the open trapdoor in the engineering compartment. Obviously something was bothering his friend and Chewie was reasonably sure he knew what. Nonetheless, he warbled only an innocuous question regarding the repairs Han was making.

"No, there's nothing wrong with the sensors," Han answered, placing the uneaten burger down. "I just want to make sure everything is in good working order, now that this is the official vehicle for Minister Leia Organa Solo." Han's smile was a mixture of love and pride.

Chewie reached for his second burger. He grunted a question around a mouthful of nerf.

"Yeah, she's taking my name," Han answered, taking a sip of the fizzy drink Chewie had brought for him. "Well, okay, she's adding my name," Han smiled crookedly. "I'm good with that."

He shoved his untouched nerfburger to one side, wiping his hands on the towel. Chewie's eyes followed it and his stomach growled. Lost in his own thoughts, Han didn't appear to notice.

Suspecting he knew what was bothering his friend, the Wookiee asked a general question about how preparations for the wedding were progressing.

"Gods, I wish it were all over!" Han exclaimed, banging his hand down on the table. His drink glass bounced dangerously, but he caught it with a quick hand. Chewie's eyebrows rose.

"I know Leia's doing almost all the work," Han continued, "but it's all gotten so big and so formal." He squirmed in his seat. "I really would have liked something simple," he explained. He met Chewie's disbelieving look with a sheepish grin. "Yeah, I know, what did I expect? I'm marrying a princess. But it's all this ambassador, and that delegation…" he rambled to a halt. Then his eyes hardened. "And that's not taking Mon kriffing Mothma into account," he spat out.

Chewie lowed sympathetically.

"I wish it could just be you, me, Luke…maybe Wedge and Rieekan, and whatever Alderaanian official needs to be there."

Chewie barked a quick query.

"Yeah, and Leia!" Han glared at his friend. "That's right, laugh it up at my expense!"

Still snickering, the Wookiee started on his third sandwich. Looking at his friends tense features, he decided it was time to change the subject. He woofed a companionable question.

"What?"

Chewie repeated his question; it had been simple enough.

"What do you mean, how did I propose?"

Han looked truly confused. Perhaps he'd phrased it the wrong way, Chewbacca thought. True, most of his information on human mating and bonding had come from the holovids they kept on the Falcon, but the Wookiee was certain that's what they called it. He explained himself to the Corellian.

"You mean did I get down on one knee and pledge my undying devotion?" Han asked incredulously. "Nah. I didn't have to." He thought for a moment. "I mean, I was willing to be frozen in carbonite for her."

Which hadn't exactly been Han's idea, Chewie reminded him.

"Hey! I took her to Dathomir!" Han bristled.

That was kidnapping, Chewie retorted with a low growl.

"And there was the bet! She said I won the bet." Realizing where this was going, Han was on the defensive now. "She told me that's what she wanted!" he objected.

Chewbacca looked at his friend, amusement and sympathy mingling with the utter disbelief in his blue eyes. He explained his thoughts on the matter of romance in a longish series of barks, growls and rumbles.

Han appeared to give the matter some serious thought. "Maybe I haven't been very romantic," he conceded finally, his brow furrowed, "but it's kind of late now, isn't it? I mean, two-thirds of the free galaxy have already been invited to the wedding. And accepted," he added. "How can I propose now?"

Chewie mewled a soft explanation.

"You're right," Han agreed after several heartbeats worth of deliberation. "It would be for us. We need more of this to be about us." He rose and paced quickly across the hold and back, warming to the idea. "I need a ring," he said, more to himself than to the Wookiee. "Where can I get a ring?"

Chewie pointed out there were literally hundreds of jewelers on Coruscant.

"No! I don't want a ring from here!" He made another quick trip across the hold and back. "Chewie!" He leaned across the holotable to address his friend. "I know just the place to get a ring. But it's gonna take me a day." Chewie's eyebrows soared. "Twenty-four standard hours; maybe less. I need you to explain to Leia that I had an errand. But don't tell her what." Han paused for a minute. "She'll probably be mad that I took off; but reassure her I'll be back by tomorrow afternoon. Just try and keep her happy for that long, okay?"

Chewbacca had dealt with the tiny princess' anger before. No, it really wasn't okay. But one look at the excited look on Han's face told him he'd do it. For Han, and for Leia. He pointed at Han's untouched nerfberger and awrooed plaintively.

"Sure, go ahead and take it. I'm not hungry anyway, and I've got to get her ready to lift off!" He turned and headed back toward the forward engineering compartment; stopping only long enough to answer Chewie's final question.

"Where am I going?" he asked over his shoulder. "Corellia!"