A/N: This story takes place immediately after my story "After the Rescue". It is not necessary to read that to know what is going on here, but not a bad ideato know how they've gotten to this point. It is another attempt to fill the gaps left by ROTJ and find out how Han and Leia's relationship progresses and maybe explain Han's confusion since the movies leave a lot to be desired. This story will probably work as a stand-alone but I intend to complete a series of vignettes that will work in sequence.

If you read, please review! Seriously, to us writers, feedback makes our day!

Sensing the faint echo of a pleasant dream – the first of such instances in months – Leia realized that she had awakened. She sensed that she was still lying on her side, and opened her eyes as her cheek still rested on the soft material of Han's pillow. The cabin was incredibly dim, only lit by a sliver of light that escaped from the half-opened 'fresher door.

She could barely see the unmistakable features of Han's face as he slept facing her. She had almost forgotten what had transpired. Their hands rested limply against one another in their sleep, obviously still seeking out each other's touch. His lips were slightly parted and he breathed deeply. She couldn't hold back a smile as she looked at him then, reveling in the fact that she finally had him back.

Not only that, but he had asked her to stay. She wanted to be near him as much as possible as well, but she didn't want to overwhelm him with the emotions she had been feeling. It was all she could do since she'd rescued him to keep from constantly holding him, touching him, kissing him.

Wondering how long they'd been asleep, she rolled over and peeked at the chrono, startled to discover that it had been roughly five hours. It wasn't that she really had anything pressing to attend to, but rather that she tried to remember the last time she had slept so peacefully for such a long stretch of time. No such instance came to mind, and certainly not any within the past six months when she'd been searching for Han. She had spent much of that time, if falling asleep at all, being awakened by nightmares of seeing him taken from her over and over again, frozen in that death mask, seemingly lost forever. Sometimes she'd dream of Alderaan, watching it explode before her eyes time after time.

None of those horrible images had accosted her this time, only thoughts back to when Han had made her smile and laugh, and the way he made her feel when he kissed her. She felt herself blush as she remembered what else she'd dreamt about. This dream was not from a memory, but she was aware that she had a strong desire to share that kind of intimacy with Han.

So far, the timing hadn't exactly worked out, and frankly, the possibility hadn't really occurred just yet. They had never really discussed each other's past, although Leia suspected that Han knew that she was a virgin. And she had a pretty good idea that that certainly wasn't the case for Han. That fact didn't bother her as much as wondering what he'd think when he found out how inexperienced she was. And although she knew she loved him and trusted him implicitly, it still didn't keep her from being nervous about actually giving herself to him completely. It wasn't that she didn't want to, but what if he was disappointed? What if she was disappointed?

She nearly laughed as the last thought crossed her mind. She couldn't imagine that Han could ever disappoint her in any way, least of all when it came to sex. Granted, she had no knowledge of his prior experience, but she sensed that he was likely to be more than adequate in that regard.

Wondering how her thoughts had gotten so caught up in Han's sexual abilities, she shook her head and turned again to face him. His breathing seemed to have become broken and she reached up to place a hand against his cheek, surprised when she found that it was wet with cold sweat. At first she wondered if he was suffering from another bad dream, but the icy temperature of his skin and the fact that she noticed his whole body was shaking told her that he was simply shivering.

Propping herself on her elbow, she slid her hand from his cheek into the sweat-dampened hair that had become matted at his temple and brushed it away from his face, hoping that the motion might soothe him. She couldn't decide if he was better off awake or asleep in this condition.

She reached down and pulled the blankets up to his neck, attempting to surround him in a cocoon of warmth. The shirt he had never bothered to remove was also wet and certainly wasn't helping matters.

She rubbed her hand along his sweat-soaked back, hoping to warm him up a bit. In the darkness, she noticed his eyes finally opening as he searched his surroundings and seemed to take a moment to remember where he was.

Leia's hand continued to rub his back and his eyes came to rest on hers in the darkness. "Are you okay, Han?"

His shivering hadn't subsided, and he answered her through chattering teeth, quietly. "I'll be f-f-fine. W-w-why is it so c-c-cold in here?"

She brushed the damp hair back from his forehead. Even clad only in one of his long-sleeved shirts, she was certainly warm enough. "We were warned that your body might have some trouble regulating temperature for a while once you were out. You're freezing, Han."

"D-d-don't worry 'bout m-m-me."

Such an absurd statement. She'd been worrying about him for months now. Just having him back wasn't enough, she wanted to know that he was safe and comfortable and warm. "Han, I think we need to try and get you warm, and the first thing we need to do is get you out of those wet clothes."

His sweat had soaked through the material and it was common knowledge that you were better off in bare skin than in wet clothes when it came to keeping warm. She knew he must've been awfully cold, because he offered up no sort of sexual response to her suggestion, but merely looked at her and said, "Ok."

She helped him to sit up and then pulled his cold, damp shirt up over his head. In the darkness she glanced down at his belt buckle, realizing that maybe it would seem a bit too forward to undo it herself, even if she was fairly certain that Han wouldn't mind. But she didn't want his mind on anything other than getting warm at the moment. Of course then she thought of something that would easily keep them both warm, but she shook that inappropriate thought from her head and watched as Han undid his belt and lowered the zipper of his pants.

She slid down the bed and grabbed each of his pant legs, giving him a moment to lift his hips from the mattress so she could slide them off and toss them aside. She had often pictured this sort of moment between them, but in those fantasies there were vastly different intentions. She'd seen him in his underwear on a few occasions, as he was usually anything but modest when on his own ship and would often just forget that she was even there (or so he had said, anyway) and once or twice when she had been forced to tend to his wounds, but only the few times on the trip to Bespin had she found herself able to look at him and appreciate him. Before that, she had always felt the need to look away, never wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that she liked what she saw.

She felt no such shyness about appreciating him any longer, but under the circumstances, she had to concentrate her efforts on getting him warm, not ogling his body. Once he was stripped down to his simple, gray briefs she looked down at him again. "All right, lie back down, Han."

He complied, continuing to shake, and she crawled up next to him, bringing the blankets up and wrapping her arms tightly around him so her hands rested on his cold, clammy back. Placing a hand on the back of his neck, she pulled his head so it rested on her shoulder and rubbed her other hand along his back.

"Th-th-thanks," Han sputtered, muffled against her shoulder.

"You're welcome."

Han shut his eyes tightly, wondering how in the universe he could feel that cold lying in his bed in his climate-controlled quarters, especially with a beautiful princess pressed up against him, rubbing her warm hands against his back. His eyes had adjusted so that he could see through the darkness, and he pulled his head from her shoulder so that he could look into her eyes, finally feeling some of the warmth from her body transferring to his.

He was reminded of the image that had carried him through his imprisonment. At first, he had felt as though no time had passed at all, but eventually he realized that at times, he'd actually been dreaming, or at least some approximation of it. Sometimes it was just the horrible feeling of being trapped, visions over and over again of the white cloud of smoke that surrounded him, suffocated him, and had frozen him for months. He felt an incredible urge to move, but was never afforded that luxury. He gasped for breath, never able to inhale.

But there were other times, much better times, when he'd see the beautiful face looking back at him just before that terrible moment when everything went dark. The face was stricken with grief, and he hated to see the pain in her eyes, but it was the words she'd spoken to him, the last words he'd heard for so long, that had carried him through his darkest moments, when he thought he could succumb to the blackness forever.

"I love you."

"I know."

He had known. He didn't need to hear the words to know the truth, and he had never expected it from her, considering how closely she guarded her emotions. So he knew how much it took for her to exclaim the sentiment under such circumstances. But he'd also realized that she quite possibly felt that that was the last chance that she'd get to say it to him - the only chance. He hadn't wanted to say it back, refusing to believe that it would be his only opportunity, and not wanting to tell her and hurt her that way in case he didn't return.

He was fairly sure that she knew how he felt anyway, but he also felt that she deserved to hear the words, and he found himself desperately wanting to tell her.

The shivering had subsided substantially, and he didn't stammer when he spoke this time. "Leia?"

Her hands continued rubbing at his back, warming his skin with each tender stroke. "Yes, Han?"

He took one of his hands from her back and placed it against the smooth, soft skin of her cheek. "I love you."

Even in the dim light he could see the wide smile that crossed her face and the extra sparkle in her eyes. "I know. And I love you."

He smiled back at her again, wondering what he had done to deserve having this beautiful woman come to his rescue. She leaned in and kissed him then, adding to the warmth he was already feeling. She lingered for what seemed like forever, and he was reminded not only of how few chances he'd had to kiss her, but of how few of those kisses hadn't been interrupted. He decided he could lie in her arms like that forever, and he could be perfectly content.

When she released his lips, she spoke again. "Are you any warmer?"

"Much warmer, thanks."

"Good."

His legs were wrapped around hers with his knees bent sharply. Lying there in her arms, he felt like he needed to at least attempt to convey some of what he was feeling. But before he spoke, he heard a loud rumbling coming from his stomach, and both of them looked at the source of the noise.

"Gods, Han. I hadn't even thought about how hungry you must be. Do you want me to get you something?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not sure. I guess I should be hungry."

"You're darn right, you should be. You haven't had anything to eat in six months."

"Do you think my stomach can handle it? I mean, I guess I feel sort of hungry, but mostly it just feels… weird."

"I think we should at least try. And maybe some food might help warm you up. Come on, can you sit up?"

She helped ease him into a seated position on the bed and he felt a chill run up his spine when she moved away from him.

She found him a pair of light blue sleep pants in a drawer and helped him put them on before wrapping him in the blanket from the bed so he could keep warm if needed. Han felt awkward on his feet and leaned up against Leia for support. It amazed him how such a petite body could help hold him upright, and having such a beautiful woman there to support him almost made him okay with the idea that he did, in fact, need help to walk from his cabin to the galley.

There was a time in his life where he believed he didn't need anybody for anything, and never would. He'd somehow lived through his childhood without anyone looking after him and had learned early on that you were a fool if you ever relied on anyone for anything. Why would anyone want to help a second-rate smuggler, anyway? He decided quickly that having someone there for him wasn't such a bad thing.

He and Leia arrived in the lounge and Han eased himself down at the table, his head swirling in dizziness. He suspected his biggest problem right now was dehydration. Leia's hand was on his shoulder as she spoke to him. "I'm going to see if I can find something simple that you can try and get down, okay? I'll be right back."

He mustered a nod as he watched her go, thoroughly enjoying the sight of her wearing his shirt. Although he was fairly sure of her feelings for him, it was still slightly strange to have Leia so concerned for his well-being. He thought back to the few times he'd been ill or injured since knowing her, all of which had occurred before she had decided that he was slightly more tolerable than a below-the-waist rash. If needed, she'd give him medical attention… reluctantly. She had always seemed more annoyed that he required it of her than genuinely concerned. She often expressed more interest in making sure he didn't stain the floor with his blood rather than actual desire to ease his pain.

He'd known she cared more than she showed, always trying to guard her emotions close to her heart rather than risk the possibility of being hurt. He had always wished it could be so easy as to just promise her that if she let him in, he would never hurt her. But at the time, that couldn't be the truth. He was leaving, and if she allowed herself to love him, he would've broken that promise.

Things were different now. He didn't have to leave. Jabba was dead. There was nobody left to pay off. No reason left for him to leave her. He slid the blanket from his bare shoulders as a sudden warmth spread through him.

I don't ever have to leave her.

The thought brought an irrepressible smile to his lips as he saw a certain princess return from the galley with a steaming bowl of something and a large glass of water. He looked up at her and she seemed to notice his smile and gave him one of her own before she sat next to him and placed the bowl and cup on the table.

"I just brought you some broth to start," she said, indicating the bowl of steaming liquid. "We're not really sure how your stomach is going to respond, so we need to hold off on solid food."

At that moment, Han didn't have the slightest interest in food. He gazed at Leia as she spoke, her concern for him evident. He had no idea how wonderful it could feel to have someone worry over his recovery like this. When he was a kid and got sick or hurt, nobody cared. Hell, the only way he might get out of some horrid chore Shrike wanted of him when he was sick was to throw up on his own shoes, and really all that got him was a mop shoved in his face and orders to go to bed after cleaning up his mess and to heal quick and stop causing so much trouble.

Sure, later on Chewie would look after him if he managed to get hurt, and he knew the Wookiee genuinely cared and wasn't just doing it to honor his lifedebt.

But this was different. Leia loved him. She loved him and didn't want him to suffer in any way, the same way he wouldn't want to see her suffer. He'd occasionally fleetingly wondered what this kind of thing would feel like. No speculation he'd had could possibly compare to the real thing. Apparently this was just something else he was going to have to get used to that went along with having someone who loved and cared about you.

He realized in horror that if the Empire had captured him a couple of years ago, before he'd met her, and decided to "test" their carbon freezing chamber on him and hand him over to Boba Fett, there was a good chance that he'd spend the rest of his life hanging on Jabba's wall for decoration.

Right, you never needed anyone, Solo. I must've been delusional.

Leia caught him staring at her and a confused smile crossed her lips. "What?"

For a moment he considered telling her all of the things he was feeling for her at that moment. But the depth of his emotions frightened even him, and he feared that it might be a bit more than she was willing to deal with. The last thing he needed to do was scare her off. Even if she did love him, he wasn't sure how fast was too fast for her. After all, they hadn't even…

"Aren't you hungry?"

"Huh?" He had forgotten the reason they were even there. "Oh, right." He looked at the bowl and his stomach tightened. He hadn't had a bit of food in months and yet for some reason he just wasn't interested. It seemed like it might be a good idea to at least give it a shot.

He reached down and grabbed the spoon, scooping up a small amount of liquid before bringing it to his lips and slurping gingerly.

"How is it?" She asked.

"Bland," he replied.

"That's the point. Now keep eating."

He groaned in annoyance, very quickly wondering if maybe having someone there to nurse him back to health might turn out to be more trouble than it was worth if she was going to keep mothering him like this. He never had a mother and he didn't want one now. After a few more spoonfuls he felt her hand rubbing his back and he glanced over to see her beautiful brown eyes watching him.

Nah, it's worth it.

Without warning he felt his stomach start churning, forcing him to wince and bring a hand to his abdomen. He was glad that he hadn't decided to start his return to eating with Corellian spicy sausage if he couldn't even handle flavorless broth.

Leia noticed his discomfort immediately and held the water to his lips. "Here, drink this."

He sipped from the cup, only just then remembering how much he had missed the taste of cold water, feeling it slide down his throat and into his stomach, almost instantly easing the nausea. "Thanks," he replied sheepishly.

Even if it was nice to have someone worrying over him, didn't mean he wanted to give her more reasons to worry. He was greatly relieved that he hadn't had to vomit all over the holochess table. In spite of the subsiding of pain in his stomach, he decided he had had enough of "eating" on this attempt.

He felt himself starting to shiver again, annoyed that his body was still betraying him. Leia brought the blanket back up over his shoulders and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his chest and giving him a squeeze. "I missed you, you know," she said.

Damn, how did every little thing she said provoke all of these emotions in him? He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "I missed you, too."

He felt a little guilty, knowing that her perception of time over the past several months was vastly different from his own. He wondered briefly how much he'd miss her if she were taken away from him for six months while he was actually conscious. He didn't think he'd be able to stand it.

He also realized that probably nobody had ever actually "missed" him before. If he had vanished into a black hole with the Falcon, never to be heard from again, not another being in the universe except maybe Chewie would think twice about him. Nobody would've actually cared, and he'd be forgotten as quickly as it took a Star Destroyer to vaporize an X-Wing.

He suddenly felt a strange feeling of responsibility to keep himself alive not just for himself, but for Leia's sake. He didn't want to hurt her further, and if he died, he wouldn't be able to protect her.

All of this introspection was making his head hurt. Or maybe it was just dehydration and hibernation sickness. "Leia, I think I need to lie down again."

Not too long ago he would rather have run a kilometer through the snow on Hoth in his underwear than admit any kind of weakness, especially to Leia. How quickly things could change.

She leaned away from him to stand and he felt a sting of cold at his side when her warm body moved away from his. She held a small hand out to him and helped steady his body as they walked back to his cabin.

She removed the blanket from his shoulders and he eased down onto the bed, feeling instant relief as his head hit the pillow. He shivered a little and she brought the blanket up close to his chin. A soothing hand came to rest on his back again and she leaned down and pressed her lips against his temple.

He heard her whisper in his ear, "Do you want me to stay?"

Forever. "If you want." Please don't leave me here alone.

"Then I think I'll stay."

Thank the gods. "Ok."

She got under the blanket with him, snuggling up behind him and pressing her body up against his back while wrapping an arm across his chest. He selfishly wished that they'd never reach Sullust, then regretted the feeling of total exhaustion that overwhelmed him and would keep him from remaining awake to savor this rare moment alone with his princess, just basking in her warmth.

I'm gonna have to make sure I do everything I can to make sure that we both live long enough to share a lifetime of moments like this.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and felt it returned just before he fell asleep again, dreaming of just what a life with her might be like. He just hoped someday he'd actually get to experience it.