When a battalion of Imperials unexpectedly crashes the event they are attending for a mission, Leia thinks quickly to maintain their cover. Originally posted for Scoundress Saturday on Tumblr as "These arms of mine."

Chapter 1 - These Arms of Mine

The dance floor was crowded with couples. Han held Leia close as they swayed to the music, his breath hot, his lips softly grazing her cheek as he bent to whisper in her ear.

"Two at the north doors, one at the east." He left a light kiss on her lobe before pulling away to look at her face.

She tipped up her chin, her eyes focused on his. "South, then," she murmured, with a look that she hoped the casual observer would mistake for devotion.

His lips curled into a familiar grin, his eyes still on her. "I like this song," he said, subtly steering them into the direction of the south doors as they moved across the floor.

For once, Leia was grateful that it was Han with her on this mission. A quiet escape from the Harvest Festival Gala wouldn't be the easiest thing to pull off—they hadn't been expecting a battalion of Imperials to crash the party, after all—but they had worked together enough to trust each other in these kinds of situations. And their cover identity as an engaged couple meant that they had ample excuse to whisper sweet nothings in each other's ears.

"Holdout blaster?" she purred softly, as he bent down again to nuzzle her neck.

"Mmm. Two," he responded. Leia knew he was just playing a part, but she couldn't help a shiver as his low voice reached her ear.

"The package?" he asked in that same voice, and Leia felt goosebumps rise on the back of her neck.

Well, two can play at this, she thought. She gazed back up at him through her lashes. "You'll just have to wait for the wedding night," she teased. It was true; the data chip they'd come for was safely tucked into Leia's bra. Not that there's going to be any kind of wedding night, of course.

She was rewarded with more of that grin, and Han's hand tightening on the small of her back as he steered her around the floor. This would almost be fun if it weren't for that whole mortal danger part.

They'd made it past the south doors without incident, and were about to head to the hangar when suddenly Han grabbed her and pulled her into an alcove. She was about to ask why when she saw one of the Gala's on-planet sponsors walking by, an Imperial commander in tow.

Han hit his comm and tapped out a coded message to Chewie, but Leia could hear the commander's voice coming back towards them, closer and closer, with the Gala sponsor reassuring him that of course all security protocols were being followed. "Rebels? Infiltrating our Gala celebration? I should think not!"

"Still," said the commander in clipped tones, "I would urge you to take every precaution."

Their footsteps were coming closer to where Han and Leia had hidden. Han looked at Leia with alarm. There was no time to think; on instinct, Leia pulled Han's face down to hers and kissed him deeply.

She could feel him tense in surprise, but he quickly recovered, returning the kiss and backing her up to the wall. No Rebels here; just an amorous couple finding a quiet corner for a rendezvous.

She'd never kissed Han; well, not like this. There had been pecks on the cheek, several chaste but sweet kisses on the lips while they feigned couplehood for various missions, and a few tender kisses to her forehead or the top of her head. As friends. But nothing like this, breathless and ardent and hot, his arms encircling her, her body pressed to his. Leia was going out of her head, momentarily leaving the mission to just feel. She felt wonderful. Exhilarated. Dizzy.

After a few minutes, they pulled apart, and Leia snapped back to reality. "Are they—?" She felt flushed.

Han had a bit of a flush himself. He was slightly out of breath. "Think so," he said. He pulled out his comm and checked it. "Chewie's clear. You okay?"

Leia had managed to compose herself again. "Fine. You?"

"Damned good," he said, with a bit of a smirk in her direction. "Let's go."

To her surprise, Han didn't so much as mention the kiss to Chewie, even after they were safely in hyperspace and back on their way to base. She'd thought for sure that Han would be crowing about it, teasing her about how she couldn't get enough of him.

Somehow, the fact that he had made no mention of the kiss bothered Leia more than it would have if he'd laughed it off. And for some reason, she couldn't stop thinking about it.

After spending a good portion of the evening tossing and turning in her bunk, reprimanding herself for getting hung up on something that was clearly just part of the mission, Leia gave up and made her way to the cockpit. The streaking lights of hyperspace offered an odd sort of comfort; if her brain was going to refuse to turn off, at least she could enjoy the view.

Shortly after she'd settled into Han's seat, she heard footsteps behind her. "Couldn't sleep?" Han asked.

She turned around in the chair. "Too much thinking," she said. "Did I wake you?"

He sat down in Chewie's chair beside her. "Nah. Still too wired, I guess."

They looked at each other awkwardly for a moment, then Han spoke again. "Look, I, uh, wasn't sure you wanted me to say anything about…"

"Yeah."

"So I didn't."

"Okay." Leia made herself stare back at the viewscreen; it was less difficult than looking at Han. They sat there silently for a few minutes, watching the stars streak by.

Finally, Han cleared his throat. "Leia," he said softly.

She turned back toward him, to say what she wasn't sure, but it started with I want….

The same words were on Han's face.

Without thinking, she repeated her motion from the alcove and pulled him down to her mouth. This, she thought, his lips on hers, his arms around her, the breathless, electrified feeling returning to her body. I want this.