Title: Hero-Worship

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Han/Leia (mentioned),

Rating: PG-13 for boys pilots being boys pilots

Summary: Set during the Trilogy, midway between A New Hope and The Empire Strikes Back.

"Luke! Come and sit down!" Han Solo stood, waving his younger friend over to the table in Echo Base's make-shift mess hall.

Wedge Antilles, Luke's friend and wingman, was sitting next to Han. Hobbie Klivian, whom Luke hadn't really gotten to know yet, was sitting across from Wedge picking at his food with the same dissolute air that Luke had come to expect from the Raltiiran.

"Hey, Han." Luke settled into his chair. "Wedge. Hobbie." Luke picked up his fork, poking around in his potatoes. "I thought Leia was going to be joining us."

Han shrugged uncomfortably.

"What'd you say to her now?" Luke rolled his eyes. For someone who claimed to be so good with women, Han sure had a knack for making Leia very, very angry. In fact, Luke was starting to wonder if that wasn't his intention all along.

"I didn't say a damn thing, kid. She reads into things too much."

"Or, maybe, she's just sick of your shavit." Wedge snorted, draining half a cup of caf in one sip. "Honestly, Han. I don't think you're getting anywhere, there."

"Good." Han shrugged, all-too-casually in Luke's opinion. "That kind of woman is entirely too high maintenance. I'm not really into complicated."

"No, you're definitely more into easy." Luke snorted.

"Don't knock it until you've tried it, kid." Han shrugged again. Luke kind of wanted to hit him.

"Ah, but he has tried it." Wedge smirked. "Many, many times."

Luke really kind of wanted to hit Wedge. He could feel his face heating. Stang.

He tried to shrug casually and ended up knocking his cup of caf over. Thankfully, it was nearly empty and only a small portion of it ended up all over his tray. He dabbed at the mess with a few napkins.

"I don't know about that, Wedge." He glared at his bunkmate, trying to silence him, but Wedge, in proud Corellian tradition, was not to be so easily silenced.

"Ah. Okay. So, I've been exiled from my own room over and over again for no reason?"

At this, Hobbie raised his face from his tray, grinning.

"What've you been up to, Commander? If I'm to follow you into battle, I'm going to need to know that the man I'm following isn't completely morally bankrupt."

"Shut up, Klivian." Luke didn't know how much redder his face could get. "You don't need to know anything."

"But I do." Han interjected. "As your friend, I think that it's important that I be privy to pertinent information about your social life."

"Well," Wedge grinned widely, completely ignoring Luke's frantic glares. "It appears that Luke, here, has become quite the ladies man since his success at Yavin."

"Shut up, Wedge." Luke groaned fruitlessly, burying his face in his arms. He was clearly convinced, now, that this shuttle was leaving the docking bay no matter what he did.

"And being a red-blooded, heterosexual, human male," Wedge continued, "what else could our fearless comrade in arms do, but oblige the willing masses?"

"Obviously." Han nodded in mock-seriousness. "I can't blame hm."

"I'd like to shoot you all out of an airlock." Luke muttered, his voice still muffled by his arms.

"An idea that would be incredibly threatening if we weren't on the ground." Han smirked.

"Or if we had airlocks." Hobbie nodded.

"It's still plenty cold out there." Luke muttered, not lifting his head.

"So," Han ignored Luke's adendum to the conversation. "Our resident desert-boy has been running around and taking advantage of more tangible rewards than the gratitude of the Rebellion?"

"As though you haven't." Luke finally lifted his head. "You've been giving your share of tours of the Falcon, you know."

"I never claimed to be a role model." Han grinned lopsidedly.

"And Wedge is exaggerating." Luke protested. "It hasn't been that bad."

"There were two girls just this week." Wedge insisted.

"Were not!"

"There were. I ended up in Hobbie's room once, and drinking with Han on the Falcon until we both passed out another night."

"That doesn't mean it was two different girls."

"Ahhh." Han's eyes grew in dawning comprehension. "Looks like Luke's got himself a girlfriend."

"I do not."

"Boyfriend?" Han winked.

"I hate you." Luke sighed. "She's not a girlfriend. She's just a girl."

"Uh-huh." Wedge raised an eyebrow. "A girl you've been spending an awful lot of time with."

"Which is, I remind you, not illegal."

"C'mon, Skywalker. Who is she?" Han leaned forward conspiratorially. "We just want to make sure she's good enough for you."

"Yeah right. So that you can harass her like you've harassed me? I don't think so. Anyway, as much as I'd love to keep talking to you guys, I have to go be anywhere else." Luke stood, taking his tray with him.

"Aw, c'mon kid." Han spread his arms wide in defense. "Stay here. We'll be nice. Promise."

"Nah." Luke shook his head. "I've got some work to do on my X-wing anyway."

Han turned to give a retort, over his shoulder, at Luke's retreating back and stopped.

Talking to Luke, at the door to the mess, was Karie Neth. The expression on her face appeared to be anything but businesslike. As Luke moved towards the door, she took his arm, laughing at something he was saying.

Han grinned wickedly, turning back to Wedge, who he could tell had seen the display as well.

"Well, gentlemen, looks like we've identified our target."

"I'll get Janson." Wedge nodded. "We're going to need reinforcements."

"Something must be wrong with me." Hobbie observed. "I feel like this could actually be fun."

Somehow, as he walked with Karie down the corridor of Echo Base, Luke suddenly had a very bad feeling.