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Han Solo, Finn decides, is the worst neighbour he's ever had. That includes the man who may or may not have eaten his parrot, and the woman who kept answering her door nude because “clothes are a prison, Finn!”
(That's all well and good, but Finn is very gay and had never planned on seeing that much boob in all his adult life).
Han Solo is definitely the worst though. A retired military pilot, he'd recently had an operation on his knee which had left him confined to his apartment. Han had politely asked Finn – and Finn should have known then something was wrong, Solo wasn't polite – if he could walk his dog, Chewie, while he recuperated. Finn had never met Chewie before he’d said yes, but had assumed that a man like Han would have a Labrador, maybe a retriever of some sort. The kind of dog that an older man could feasibly look after without too much trouble.
He hadn’t expected an Irish Wolfhound, taller than Finn on his hind legs, and with a tendency to jump hug anyone who gets too close to him. (Finn's ass still hurts from the tumble he took to the floor the first time.)
An Irish Wolfhound who has just snapped his leash, and is unusually good at hiding in a small wood.
“Chewie!” Finn calls, trampling through the wood, “Chewie!”
Finn walks further into the wooded land, looking around for any sign of the giant furry hellhound. The bastard will have gotten a good head start on him by now, he could be anywhere. He feels like he should drop to his knees, check the ground, lick something disgusting, sniff the air. (He feels like he should stop watch old Due South repeats).
Finn doesn't want to tell Han he's lost his dog. He and his wife aren't together this week, so there's nobody there to save his life when Han tries to beat him to death with his cane. He supposes he could ask his best friend, Rey, to help out, but she'd probably refuse. She doesn't realise he's evil.
He starts to call Chewie's name again when he hears the sound of a tree branch cracking a few feet away. Deciding his best bet is the element of surprise, he pulls his hood up (because the dog can recognise your face, come on Finn!), quickly pulls it down again and slowly creeps in the direction of the sound.
Please don't be a murderer, please don't be a murderer, please don't be a murderer!
He rounds the tree, and is ready to pounce, when instead of a thousand pounds of dog, he finds a tiny little quivering bundle of bright red hair and orange dress.
There’s a little girl crying quietly, making little snuffling noises and squeaks. Her legs are pulled up to her chest, and her head is on her knees. She's only wearing one little white shoe and she's got a scrape on her shin.
Finn looks around to see if there's anyone about, anyone coming for her, coming after her, but sees nobody. (Not even Han's goddamn dog.)
“Hey there.” Finn says, kneeling by the crying child.
She looks up at him for a second, and her little face is bright red from crying. He’s clearly not who she wants to see, so she hugs her legs tighter and curls tighter into her little ball.
“My name is Finn.” Finn tells her, “What's your name?”
She doesn't answer, just whimpers a little.
“Are you lost?” Finn asks.
No answer.
“Are you looking for someone?” Finn asks, “Your mommy? Your daddy?”
At the word, 'daddy', the little girl makes a sobbing noise and looks up at Finn. “I've lost my Papa Poe.”
“Papa Poe?” Finn repeats. The little girl nods.
“We were playing hide and seek, an' he told me not t'go too far an' I saw this big tree an' he'd never find me there an' he hasn’t an' now I lost him!” She lays her legs out straight, wiggles her toes, “An' I lost my shoe!”
Finn can feel his heart close to bursting. The poor little girl is so cute. He's thankful she's just got lost playing, he'd thought the worst seeing her like that.
“Do you want me to help you find him?” Finn asks, “I'm very good at finding lost Papa's.”
But not Irish Wolfhounds.
She looks him up and down, as if checking his credentials as a rescuer, before nodding.
“No funny business!” She says, jabbing a finger at him and Finn could die.
He holds his fingers up in a Scouts salute, “Scouts honour.”
She hops to her feet, whimpers when she lands on her shoeless foot and looks ready to start crying again.
“The ground hurts!” She whimpers, “I'll never find Papa Poe if my foot hurts!”
She makes a good point. Finn would offer to carry her, but how the hell is that going to look when they find the girls Dad? If Chewie hadn't abandoned him, he could have sat her on his back and lead her through the wood. (In theory. He'd more likely have crushed her and Finn would have been thrown away for murder while Han Solo laughed and laughed and laughed.) Finn looks around for something he can use for a make shift shoe.
It takes him a moment before an idea clicks and he pulls off one of his thick gloves. He passes it to the little girl and tells her to pull it on her foot. He uses what he has left of Chewie's lead to tie it on.
She jumps up and down, to test its quality, and nods up at him. She giggles looking down at her foot.
“I'm a duck!”
Finn is going to spontaneously combust. He smiles at her, and hops to his feet. “Well come on, little duck, let's go find your Papa.”
She giggles again and makes a little quacking noise.
They head off towards the edge of the woods, the little girl waddling happily in her glove shoe. She talks the whole way. Tells Finn that her name is Bea, but Papa Poe calls her Bea Bea, because he can never believe how lucky he is to have her the first time he says her name, so has to say it again. She tells him about what her Papa Poe looks like, he's bigger than me, and he's old, at least 11, and he has a big nose and black curly hair and smiley eyes. She tells him how he rescued her from the bad place, and now she lives with him. She tells him how she really wants a puppy, but Papa Poe doesn't think she's quite big enough yet, and that's silly because she's nearly 6!
Finn tells her about Chewie, and that makes her jump up and down and squeak some more. They spend the rest of the walk calling for him, because if Bea can show Papa Poe just how good she is with him, maybe she can have a puppy?
They've been walking together for about twenty minutes when Finn hears the voice. A frantic cry of “Bea Bea!”
Bea doesn't appear to hear the voice at first, caught up in yelling for Chewie. Finn taps her shoulder, “Shh, Bea, do you hear that?”
She looks around, and the voice comes again. It's hoarse, it's broken, it sounds terrified. Bea jumps up and down on the spot, “PAPA POE!”
“Bea Bea?” The voice cries again, Papa Poe.
“Finn! It's Papa Poe!” Bea cries, darting off after the voice. Even in a glove shoe, she runs fast. Finn chases after her, not willing to let her out of his sight until he knows she's definitely safe. He'd never forgive himself.
“PAPA POE! I’M HERE!” She cries as loud as her little voice possibly can get.
She clambers over a log in her way, and just as Finn catches up with her, he sees the elusive Papa Poe.
Oh no.
He's gorgeous. He's right out of Finn's dirtiest fantasies gorgeous. He's holding the cutest little girl Finn has ever met (sorry past Rey) in his arms, and he's crying. Finn might already be half way in love before he's even said a word.
And Finn has just saved his little girl, and he might ask what he can do to repay him and Finn's traitorous brain won't let him think of anything that involves him keeping clothes on.
Papa Poe (just Poe?) puts Bea back on the ground, after a confused look at her glove-shoe, and walks across to Finn with her clinging to his hand.
“Bea Bea says you saved her.” He says, dark brown eyes still wet from crying, “Thank you, man, I don’t know… I don't know what I'd have done.”
There's a choked sob in his voice, and Finn wants to hold him.
Finn nods, “It was nothing.”
“Nothing? You saved my daughter!” He looks down at a grinning Bea, clinging to his legs, before looking back to Finn, “That's not nothing.”
His eyes really are smiley.
“We should get him ice cream to say thank you, Papa Poe!”
Don't think about other things you’d like to lick, Finn.
“It's a bit cold for ice cream, Bea Bea.” Poe tells her, ruffling her bright red curls. Little Bea pouts at his leg.
“But maybe coffee?” Poe asks, looking up at Finn, hopefully. Is it hope? Finn hopes it is. Finn might be projecting. He’s probably projecting. The man has known him a matter of 40 seconds, normal people don’t fall in love in 40 seconds. Besides, Finn doesn’t have an adorable red headed princess at his side to make Poe melt into a puddle.
Bea makes a displeased noise, “Yuck, coffee.”
“Maybe hot chocolate for Bea Bea?” Poe suggests, with a little smile.
“Extra marshmallows?” Bea asks, looking up with big blue eyes. Finn would never have been able to turn her down.
“Extra marshmallows?” Poe repeats, voice full of fake shock, “You think you can manage extra marshmallows.”
Bea nods happily, “Yep!”
“Okay. Extra marshmallows.” Poe looks over to Finn, “Can Bea Bea and I take you for coffee?”
Bea makes an indignant little noise.
“And hot chocolate?” Poe quickly adds.
Finn opens his mouth to answer, and before he can squeak out a yes, is knocked to the floor by 140lb of excitable Irish Wolfhound.