This trip was going to be a much greater adventure than Leia had figured when they'd taken off. She had only just begun to deal with the reality of Han's having endangered his own escape by coming into the command center after her when she'd found herself kissing him. Angrily, hungrily, she'd taken out years of confusion and frustration on his lips (oh! His soft, responsive, indescribably divine lips!) only to be brought back to her senses by an inaptly timed interruption by Threepio.

She'd been trying to figure out just how to tell Han to forget it—how to apologize for that momentary lapse of judgement (but he had put his lips right there) and beg him to go on like nothing had ever happened when he'd come to her and insisted on precisely the opposite.

"I'm crazy about you," he'd said. And he'd firmly stated his preference that they stop pretending on all fronts. Leia, unsure of how to process the events of the day, and confused enough about her own feelings as to be left without reasoned argument, had agreed.

And there they'd been.

It was as though some outside force had thrown a switch and everything between the two of them was simpler. The air was less charged; whatever tensile emotional barrier they'd been straining against for as long as they'd known each other had finally broken. There had been a peace between them in the hours since that Leia recognized now as having always been there in theory. When under fire, when facing an enemy, when the chips were down and their survival was on the line, they'd always been good together. But somehow that operational ease hadn't ever followed them into their daily interactions.

Until today.

Kissing him had been the best thing she could have done. And she was wondering why in hell it had taken her so long. He had been so good to her, so dear, in the time since, and she'd been kicking herself with the thought that it could have been this way all along—If she'd just been willing to let herself feel what she knew she'd been feeling.

She liked this dynamic. Sweet, thoughtful Han was far more pleasant to be around than the previous version. Leia realized now that always-tense, super-defensive, ready-to-snap Han had likely been a beast of her own creation. He'd been right when he'd said she should have been nicer to him.

And in the time since their kissing, and since that subsequent conversation, he'd been nicer to her than she could ever remember. He'd been incredibly sweet, and uncharacteristically accommodating.

Han had long kept a cot for her (and one for Luke as well) in the forward cargo hold. He'd offered to set it up while she went aft to hunt through the storage lockers in the bunkroom. He'd told her she was welcome to any pieces of his clothing she wanted from his wardrobe and had practically insisted she at least find something she'd be comfortable sleeping in. Having claimed a pair of cut-off lounge pants and two of his softest undershirts, she'd taken them to the forward hold to find he'd not only folded out the cot for her, but had it made up with more blankets and pillows than she'd realized he had aboard.

Why hadn't she given herself permission to let him be good to her years ago?

She was about to go looking for Han in the cockpit when a clatter from the lounge told her to head that way instead.

"Hey," she said as she rounded the corner into the Falcon's crew lounge. "Thanks for all the blankets."

"You're welcome," Han said back, turning part way to face her. He'd been fiddling with something on the far bulkhead, but Leia couldn't see what. "You find what you need there in the back?" he asked.

"I did," she replied, coming farther into the room, around the dejarik setup and closer to where he was standing. "Thank you."

"Hey, no problem, "he said back. "Was thinkin' about makin' somethin' to eat. You hungry?"

"No thanks."

"Leia…"

"What?"

"Don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

Han shook his head and turned the rest of the way around. Leaning back against the bulkhead with his arms crossed over his chest, he looked back at her.

"I don't think I've seen you eat three proper meals in the whole time I've known ya," he said. "And I also know how you get when you think resources are scarce. We've got a long slog ahead of us, but I promise you that's one thing you ain't gotta worry about. You know that last haul of MRE's Rieekan had me bring down from Home One? He had me store a bunch in my hold—seein' as that was one place he'd be sure they wouldn't freeze. I promise you we've got more'n enough rations."

"Han," Leia tried to interrupt.

"I mean it, Leia," he went on, barely acknowledging the fact she'd spoken his name, "There ain't gonna be a lot of variety, but really—we've got plenty of food. You ain't gotta be a hero and eat less than your share thinkin' you're doin' some good for the rest of us, 'cause…"

"Han," Leia said again, more sternly this time. Han stopped his diatribe and inclined his head toward her. "I'm not hungry," she said then.

"Leia," he began again.

"Han," she said for a third time, this time drawing out the sound of his name to indicate that she had a point to make and would appreciate not being interrupted again. "Will you let me finish, please?"

Solo frowned playfully at her, but shut his mouth.

"You left a jar of errd nuts out in the bunkroom," she told him.

"I did?"

"Yes. And when I was back there looking for something to sleep in, I may have helped myself to a handful," she admitted, "or two."

"You did?"

"I did."

"So you're…"

"Not hungry."

"Because you just,"

"Had a snack."

"Well okay," he conceded, a playful tone coming into his voice. "So, if I wait an hour…?"

"I'll probably be hungry," she allowed. "But if you want to eat now…."

"Nah," he replied, standing up to his full height and shrugging his shoulders. "I'd rather wait. We can have supper together."

"Like a date?"

"Sure," Han chuckled. "It'll be real romantic. I may even have a candle around here somewhere."

Leia stepped toward him, laughing softly as well, as she placed her hands on his waist and looked up at him, smiling.

"We'll just have to be careful not to singe Chewie's fur," she said.

"Yeah, all right," Han allowed, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and resting his chin on the top of her head, "maybe the candle's a bad idea. But dinner," he said, "in an hour. It's a date."

Leia tilted her chin up to look Han in the eye.

"It's a date," she said back. She ran her hands up his sides and added, "but what are we gong to do to kill an hour?" hoping she wasn't being too forward. Leia was out of practice at flirting—it had been years since she'd done so with any intention behind it, and she wasn't sure she had any idea what she was doing. But the fact remained that he'd kissed her earlier, and then he'd stated in no uncertain terms he was interested in things developing between them. She'd been emboldened by his insistence that they both stop pretending there was nothing there, and she could only hope her innuendo would be well received.

"Well, I can think of one thing," he said, taking a tiny step back and quirking his eyebrow as he looked down at her.

"Yeah?" she asked, "what's that?"

"I'm going to go back to the bunkroom," he began, lowering his face toward hers, "and hide my jar of errd nuts before a certain princess eats them all."

Leia scowled at him as he stepped away from her. She was pretty sure he was joking. But what if he wasn't? Han winked at her as he turned to head aft.

He was kidding.

It took her less than a heartbeat to take off after him.

They could easily spend the next hour in the bunkroom. And she was not about to let him hide that jar of nuts.