Rebellion's Mistress

Summary: Han, Leia, music and a shower. Set between ANH and ESB.

A/N: March challenge response for the challenge posted at HSP. Thanks, Tara for the beta. I'm sure that most of the good parts here are because of her. The bad parts are all mine.

Please read and review. Send any money (if you have any left) to George. He owns the universe - literally!

Leia sighed as the water poured over her head, flowing down along her tired body. The warmth of it soothed her and the ache in her muscles faded noticeably. She would miss the luxury of a freshwater shower when they finally abandoned the Yavin base and intended to take advantage of it as often as possible until that day came.

As the water soothed her, her mind traced over the events of the day. Somehow, Han had coaxed her into helping him repair his eternally malfunctioning ship. She had been on her way to search out General Rieekan when he had side-tracked her.

"In a hurry, your worship?"

"Well, actually…"

"I know. Don't tell me. You've got some incredibly important Rebellion business to take care of and have already wasted too much time on a conversation with a man like me."

What?

She searched her mind trying to find her supposed offence of the man standing before her. She hadn't seen him that much lately, so ensconced in her efforts on behalf of the rebellion had she been. That's when she recalled several genuine offers for dinner that she had been forced to decline. She had been rude to him, unintentionally, and he was an asset to their cause. He deserved better. At the very least, he deserved a bit of her time.

"Actually, Han, I had been looking for you," she lied. "I was wondering if your offer still stands. Luke tells me that you are rather skilled when it comes to the culinary arts."

"Well, yeah, as a matter of fact, I am. You'd be surprised at the many hidden talents I have that you haven't discovered yet."

His voice had dropped to nearly a whisper and he had stepped closer to her, invading her personal space as he so often did. She felt a blush heat her cheeks at his implied innuendo, needing little encouragement to imagine the various talents the smuggler possessed. The swagger of his hips had long evoked imaginings of skill in areas that a princess should never be contemplating. She had managed to rein in her imagination in his presence, but lately, she seemed to be working harder to ignore her body's natural response to him.

"Really, Captain, the only talents of yours that I'm interested in are those that are of use to the Rebellion."

"Is that right?" There was a mischievous glint in his dark eyes. "And how does dinner fit into the grand scheme of your revolution?"

Impossible man!

She had been offering him a boon to repair his damaged ego and he was throwing it in her face. She was about to storm off in the opposite direction when he offered a boon of his own.

"Okay, Leia, here's the deal. I'll make you the best dinner you've had in ages - maybe the best meal you've ever had. But you have to help me finish with the repairs on the cooling system. Deal?"

She was tempted to decline, to continue along her original path and return to her work. The anger of their beginning conversation prevented her leaving and she found herself accepting his offer, shaking his hand before following him up the ramp to his ship.

They worked quietly together and she learned more than she had ever thought she would ever know about the Falcon's internal workings. Han had been surprisingly patient as he tutored her and she had found an unexpected satisfaction as she completed the tasks he assigned her. He hummed quietly to the music that played in the background and she couldn't remember a more peaceful time that they had spent together.

"Kest!" The Corellian curse word slipped easily from her lips as the tool slipped from her fingers and undid the work she had completed over the past half hour. Han abandoned his repairs, moving to her side, most-likely in fear of the damage she might have inflicted on his beloved ship. He surveyed the damage and must have deemed it minimal because he turned his attention to her.

Her eyes strayed to the open collar of his shirt. Just a few centims away, the smooth hardness of his chest, covered with a fine sheen of perspiration, teased her. For a second, the irrational thought that she should taste him floated through her mind and she caught herself giving it too much consideration. The air seemed to crackle between them and as she inhaled, the scent of him filled her nostrils. She held his eyes as the warning bells chimed in her head, but couldn't force herself to look away. Finally, he tore his eyes away and bent to retrieve her lost tool. His fingers closed on the cool metal but he stopped before retrieving it. Leaving her side, he walked around the toolbox and increased the volume on the receiver. Music filled the air between them.

"Oh. Oh. This is great. This is the best."

He began tapping his hands against the toolbox, matching the rhythm of the song; a song that she barely recognized but it was clearly a favourite of his. She was briefly reminded of the differences in time and place that spanned between them and then dismissed them. Some days she felt that she was mature beyond his years and this day was quickly shaping up to be one of them. His hands continued tapping along to the beat and he sang bits and pieces of the lyrics, surprising her with the pleasing tone of his voice.

He walked around the toolkit and held a hand out to her. Warily, she accepted it and he pulled her into the hallway. His hand fell to her waist and her arm fell naturally to his shoulder and she found herself once again wondering at the taste of him. The heat of his hand penetrated her thin shirt and she was certain that she would long feel the imprint of it on her. Suddenly, he was leading her through the steps of a long-forgotten dance, laughing as she stumbled against him. He continued to lead her, spinning her away from him and then pulling her close again and she fought to contain the laughter that bubbled up from within. She marvelled at this playful side of him that she had yet to see and knew for a moment why so many women had failed to resist his charms.

The chorus played and the deep timbre of his voice crooned the lyrics in her ear and a warm tingling surged in her belly. His hand pulled her closer and she was so near to him that she needed to only purse her lips and she would finally taste him. She pulled her eyes away from the temptation of his chest, looking up to meet his eyes. His smile had faded, and the humour that had been in his eyes was replaced with a need that she knew he would find echoed in hers. Suddenly, she was breathless and it had nothing to do with their dance. They stood, almost touching, and he swallowed noticeably as she tipped her chin up slightly in invitation. He recovered before she could and, humming, he spun her around, breaking the tension between them.

She didn't know what would have happened if Chewie hadn't returned just moments later, but he had. Her help in the repairs seemed unnecessary then and she had fled, forgetting about the dinner he had promised.

Washing the rest of the soap from her body, she stood, enjoying the flow of the water a few minutes longer. It was during these last moments of pleasure that she heard him.

"Leia, you forgot your…"

His voice trailed off as he appeared in the open doorway. She couldn't remember why she had forgotten to close it, or that she had, but clearly, she had left it open. She briefly thought of questioning his manners as he had entered her quarters unannounced, but the warm water chased the cold thought from her mind.

The glass of the shower enclosure was slightly fogged, but as she looked over her shoulder, she could clearly see him as he stood in the opening, unmoving, her forgotten data pad in his hands. He was still clad in his earlier clothing and her eyes fell to the skin exposed by his open collar. Her belly warmed and a slight tingling filled her fingertips as they ached to brush against the smooth muscle of his chest.

Almost of it's own volition, her hand slid aside the glass barrier and she turned to face him, her naked body displayed clearly for his perusal. His eyes held hers and in his she read desire and more. There were questions and uncertainty and something foreign; something she had never seen in his hazel eyes before and she could have sworn the emotion she glimpsed there was fear.

His eyes fell to the floor then and his deep intake of breath mirrored her own. If she could gather her senses enough to think, she was sure that she would question her own invitation. As it was, she stood, open to him, waiting silently. The cool air caressed her skin and her body sung, longing for his hands to replace the cold. His eyes met hers again and this time the only emotion she could read was regret.

She turned her back to him and blamed her chill on the cold air that she had allowed through the enclosure door.

That night she slept little as she berated herself for her earlier actions. How could she have offered herself so blatantly to a man, especially a man like Han? And how could he have refused her? There were so few women that he did refuse, not that there were any that she knew of at all; besides her, that is. How could she face him the next time that she saw him? Especially now, knowing what he thought of her - or how little he thought of her. How had she been so mistaken in her interpretation of the feelings between them? Had they been so one-sided?

The next morning she rose, little rested and of foul mood. Avoiding the hanger, she had managed to avoid the cause of her ill temper for most of the day. She didn't see him until later that night as she was cataloguing in the supply room.

"Leia."

Her name on his lips startled her, but she refused to turn to acknowledge his presence.

"If we'd made love last night, I'd have to stay…"

She turned then and their eyes met, echoing their pose of the night before. This time, she turned away first.

"… or you'd have to leave."

His footsteps echoed as he left her and she pondered his parting words. She wanted to scream after him: "What's so wrong with that?" but she knew the answer already. He had a debt to pay and she had an obligation to fulfill and neither of those things could be accomplished together. She tried to find solace in the fact that he wouldn't just use her for a quick fling and that he respected her enough to not include her in his list of one-night stands.

She was the Rebellion's mistress now and there wasn't any room for anyone else.

As the statement rang through her mind, she accepted the truth of it. Returning to her task, she pushed the dark-haired would-be lover from her mind. There was a time and a place for such thoughts, for such actions, but she feared they would never come in her lifetime.

A/N: Thanks for reading. In case you hadn't noticed, the challenge was to transform a romantic scene from one of Harrison Ford's other movies and fit it in the SW universe (in summary). The barn scene from Witness has always been one of my favourites, so I tried to capture some of that magic here. Please let me know how I did. Scarlet:)