By Leia's estimation it had been approximately three weeks since they'd escaped the Empire and started on their slow slog toward Bespin. She was making a point not to count the days; she'd told Han she didn't want to know how long they'd be in transit and had resigned herself to just living in the moment until they were making their approach. But still, the passage of time was pretty hard to ignore, and there was only so much to be done aboard such a small ship to stave off boredom.

Many games of dejarik, bouts of merciless flirting, and stolen kisses later, and Leia had found herself setting to clean and tidy all of the Falcon's storage lockers. It was a job she'd played at piecemeal over the years of traveling with Han and Chewie on behalf of the Alliance. But their trips had been short, and the freighter had been set up for maximal storage capacity. She'd never made it through even a quarter of the stowed goods.

She figured she'd have time to do all of it on this trip.

She'd gotten Han to fashion her a stepladder so she'd have an easier time seeing into the overhead lockers, a chore he'd taken to with aplomb. He'd measured well—fabricating the thing from spare ammo crates and elevator parts to put her at optimal height to reach the top lockers.

He'd been hanging around the lounge, pretending to concern himself with the performance of the ladder and not at all with Leia's backside as she climbed up and down it. But Leia wasn't fooled. She was doing her best to get him to admit he was looking, bending over to put found items on the deck when she could just as easily have set them down differently. The flirting had become her favorite of the few pastimes they had access to, and she didn't mind injecting a little fun into her chore. Feeling useful, getting this done helped keep her from going stir crazy, but getting Han to make that delicious little growling sound in the back of his throat gave her far more joy than a tidy freighter ever could.

She was leaned over, reaching far into the back of the near-empty locker with a dust cloth, when her hand landed on a square package she hadn't seen before. Leaving the cloth where it was, she took hold of the parcel and brought it out for inspection.

It was a boxed-up data tape, that much she could tell. With a handwritten label that had yellowed with time, it looked like a home-recorded thing rather than anything Han might have bought in a shop.

"What's this?" she asked, turning around to show it to Han. "Road music?" she asked, reading the label as she brought the carton down the little ladder to show it to him more closely.

"What the… I had no idea I even still had that." Han was out of his seat in an instant. Two strides later and he was standing directly in front of Leia, looking at the old tape as though it might be about to jump out of its box and bite him.

"That's what you get for never cleaning this thing out," she teased. Han's eyes were wide. How in the hell did he still have that thing?

"Oh, man—this is…." Han took the box from her, still unsure as to what he was going to do with it.

"What?" Leia asked, "what is it?"

"It's nothin'," he said, shaking his head and moving to walk away with the tape still in his hand. Leia reached out and snatched it back from him, shaking her head.

"It's not nothing," she insisted, "or you wouldn't be so evasive about it." She examined the tape's case more closely. "This isn't your handwriting," she observed.

"No," Han allowed, "it…. Wait? You know what my handwriting looks like?"

"Quit dodging my questions."

Han let out a sigh and ran his hand through his hair.

"Look," he said, "I didn't know I still had this. I thought I'd thrown it out years ago. There's a piece of my past in that box I'd prefer to stay there: in the past."

"Let me guess," Leia said, "a woman made you this tape?" Han shook his head.

"More like a girl," he corrected her.

"Wanna tell me about her?"

"Naw, Leia," he replied, "I don't. I don't wanna talk about her. I don't even want to think about her."

"So… it was serious?" she posited. Han squeezed his eyes shut and put his hands on his hips.

How could he explain to Leia that Qi'ra had once, long ago, simultaneously been his favorite human being and the very worst thing that ever happened to him? How could he explain how he thought he'd loved her and how deeply she'd betrayed him and how completely she'd soured his faith in other people? How could he tell this princess he couldn't help but admit he'd come to love about the woman who'd made him swear he'd never let himself feel that deeply again?

Should he maybe lead off with the fact that, had it not been for how terribly he'd feared being hurt again, it wouldn't have taken him three years to get up the nerve to kiss her?

"I thought it was," Han answered her as honestly as he could. He clenched his jaw.

Even now!

Even now, here, with Leia, he was afraid of opening up. That was the scar that Qi'ra left. Damn her. And damn this stupid data tape for dragging this all up just as things were getting good.

"Don't we all when we're young?" she replied. Her tone had grown softer, less teasing.

"Yeah," Han sighed, stepping forward and placing his hands on her shoulders. Leia held out the tape to him.

"May I look at it?" she asked. Han smiled down at her. If he asked, she would give it back right this moment and probably never mention it again. Leia wasn't like Qi'ra, not in any way at all.

He could trust her. He could trust her with his heart and he could trust her with this stupid mix tape.

"Yeah, all right."

Leia smiled as she cracked open the case. Her mouth came open as she began to read the label.

"Idiot's Array by Seev Mlour?" she read, her voice betraying shades of disbelief. "Star Crossed by Czisny? Leilila!"

"You know this stuff?"

"I love this stuff," she replied, still looking down at the label. "Leilila was my father's favorite," she explained, "he used to call me that when he was in a silly mood. And this… Free Like a Bird… that was one of Amilyn's favorites. I don't think there was a night while I was in the Apprentice Legislature we didn't listen to this song. Oh! And this one, too," she exclaimed, pointing to another spot on the label, "The Stairway! Are you kidding me?"

By this point, Han was laughing. How in the stars had it come to pass that he and the Princess of Alderaan had several of the same favorite old songs? Luke would probably say it was The Force—that there was some greater cosmic power showing them they were meant to be together… or something. Han wasn't sure he believed in The Force, but this was one hell of a coincidence.

"I can't believe you like this old music," he said.

"Were these your favorites?" she asked, "or hers?"

"Mine, mostly," he answered her. "It's stuff we used to listen to when we were out runnin' the streets."

Leia held out the tape to him again.

"Can we listen to it?" she asked. "If it drags up too many memories, I'll understand if you don't want to, bu…,"

"No," he interrupted her, taking the proffered tape from her hands. "We can listen to it. It'll be good. Make some new, better memories to go over the bad ones."

"Yeah," Leia agreed, following Han as he strode toward the engineering station. He popped the tape into the deck and turned to face her as the first track began to play. "C'mere," she encouraged, smiling at Han as the opening chords of Idiot's Array filled the lounge.

Han did as she asked, smiling back at her as he took both her hands and followed her into the center of the room.

"You want really good memories?" she asked, flirting shamelessly as she pulled him toward her until their bodies were touching in all the most interesting places. "Or just 'better' ones?"

Han chuckled as he brought his hands to her face. Leia's fingers had landed at his waist and were not-so-subtly jerking his shirt tail out of his trousers.

"Happy to follow your lead, Princess," he replied, "I already like this song better than I ever did."

"Yeah," she agreed, clearly pleased with herself as she slid her hands beneath his shirt, "me too."