TURNABOUT IS FAIR PLAY

Han Solo was sick. Sick of the snow, sick of the cold, sick of the wind.

And now, he was starting to actually feel sick. He'd felt unusually tired the last couple of days, but today was far worse. Coming in after scouting and standing by one of the few heat sources, he was still shivering. On top of the shivering, every muscle in his body ached, his head throbbed, and his throat was so sore that he could barely swallow his own saliva. Exhaustion was the normal status quo among the Rebels, but this was far beyond what he'd consider normal weariness. He was trying to remember his worst hangovers and concluded that they had had nothing on this.

Just tough it out, Han told himself. It's not going to kill you.

General Rieekan had two axioms he lived by: war was at times a necessary evil but it was still evil, and that at any given time, one-third of his battalion was going to be ill. Both of those were currently supported by strong empirical evidence.

Han headed for the command center to report to General Rieekan.

"I haven't found a thing, sir," he told Rieekan, but his voice was raw and scratchy. "I've done my circle and -" Han began coughing.

Rieekan took a sharp look at Han. "You've been infected. Report to your quarters immediately."

"I'm fine -" Han said as another coughing spasm hit him.

A familiar voice came up behind him. "Oh, sure you are, Captain." It was the taunting voice of Princess Leia. She'd been ill the previous week, and Han had taken care of her during that time, bringing her food and medicine. He'd brought extra blankets from the ship to help her keep warm and had prepared soup, juice and hot buttered Corellian rum.

"I'll be fine," Han said to her. "I've got work to do."

"Solo, I gave you a direct order." Rieekan's voice was not unkind, but it was firm and informed those around him that he was not to be disobeyed.

"Yes, General," Han said, secretly relieved. All he really wanted to do was to grab a couple hours of sleep. He normally slept on his ship, but fuel for heating was a precious commodity, and while Chewie could handle the chill, he found his crew quarters less frosty.

"Princess, see to it that Captain Solo returns to his quarters," he told Leia firmly. She rolled her eyes once her back was turned to him.

"C'mon, Captain, let's move."

"You really don't have to do this," Han said hoarsely.

"General Rieekan gave each of us an order."

"Is that the only reason?" Han began coughing again.

"I'll go to my quarters and bring the blankets to you," Leia told him. "Which, when I was feeling so terrible, were really helpful."

"You see? You can be nice when you want to," Han said to her as they came to his quarters.

Leia rolled her eyes. "I was given an order. I don't make a habit out of not following them." She stomped off, totally irritated. "Unlike some people I know!"

If Han hadn't felt so awful, he'd have laughed.

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Han had been infected with what most likely was the strain of an influenza virus that probably would have responded to bacta, but bacta was in short supply and saved for only the gravest of illnesses or injuries. Thyferra, the planet which provided the raw material had allied itself with the Rebellion; the production planet was Tatooine, and it was allied with the Empire. There were rumors that the Hutts were looking to get hold of Thyferra. Leia had never met a Hutt, although she'd heard them described as the ugliest whores in the universe. She had no desire to increase her knowledge in that direction.

And, if she was honest with herself, a lot of her imagination was drifting in the general direction of the sexy smuggler. She had to admit that he was that he was very sexy, he hadn't attempted conquest with regards to the women. She was positive he was not a virgin, and as for saving himself for marriage, she was quite certain that the entire concept of marriage was something that for him simply did not compute.

Not that she was ever planning to get married, either. While her parents were forward thinking in some ways, when it came to marriages, they considered them political alliances to be arranged. Leia had let them both know in no uncertain terms where she stood on that issue.

What annoyed her most, however, was how he couldn't resist taunting her. It made her feel as if they were in middle school, thanks to him. It was as if he was constantly trying to get a rise out of her, and what really pissed her off was his success at doing so.

She'd never acted like that around a boy in her entire life.

Except that it was clearly obvious Han was a man. He was not a playboy, a prince, a pretty boy, or a pretender to the throne.

Handling a man, one who aroused her emotionally as well as physically was not something she'd been prepared for. And it angered her that she was wasting her nearly frozen brain cells on him.

Still, he'd been very nice to her when she had taken ill about a week and a half before.

But inevitably, the teasing returned. People no longer stopped when they were going at it; it was as much a part of the scenery as the endless ice and snow. Rumor had it that the Rogues had several betting pools on the two of them.

Ever since the dance after the awards ceremony, Leia had been unable to shake her attraction to the smuggler. He'd asked her to dance, and she'd made the mistake of accepting. It wasn't that she couldn't dance. She'd had the best teachers, but she only did it as part of her royal duties. None of her partners had ever put her at ease, and she'd always been self-conscious when it came to dancing. But with Han, her body flowed effortlessly. So effortlessly, in fact, that she'd run from the celebration

Leia had told herself that it had been the wine and the excitement. But something in her wasn't quite buying it.

Having arrived at her quarters, she neatly folded the three blankets that Han had loaned to her. She couldn't cook, but she had two mugs, and she'd get some tea from the commissary after she left them with Han. And she had two Zoprex tabs left.

I'm just following orders, she told herself.

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Leia had expected that Han would be in bed by the time she arrived with the blankets, but she found him on top of the bed, still in his parka and boots, shivering violently.

Leia shook her head. "You might be more comfortable with your boots off," she said, her tone one of exasperation, but mixed with affection. If someone had pointed that out, she'd have been most annoyed. But she simply grasped one of his snow boots and pulled it off. He hissed as she performed the act, and repeated it with the other boot. His socks were damp, and Leia gently removed them. She scrambled to the foot locker and found a dry pair, putting them on his feet.

"I didn't know you had a foot fetish, Princess," Han rasped, followed by a coughing spasm.

"Just be quiet, and you won't get hurt," Leia said severely. She dug out the regulation sleepwear issued to everyone. They were a thick grey fleece, designed for comfort, not beauty.

Han coughed again, but managed to grin at the Princess. "You gonna put 'em on me?" He continued to shake uncontrollably.

"You can't sleep in your parka. Can you sit up?"

Han painfully raised himself up, and grabbed the tab to the zipper on his parka, struggling with it. He finally worked it off. It was evident that there wasn't a square centimeter on him that wasn't in pain. Leia took the parka and hung it on the hook nearby. To say that the crew quarters were primitive was to put it charitably. There was a foot locker, one hook, and a cot with a thin mattress, a pillow and two blankets. The bedding set new standards in discomfort, but most off duty personnel were so tired they fell asleep immediately.

Leia draped a blanket over Han and began to work the buttons of his shirt, disconnecting them and letting the cream colored garment drop to the bed. Han was shaking furiously. "Leave the thermals on," he said hoarsely.

"Don't worry, Flyboy, I'm not trying to get you naked."

"Damn. And here I was, just waiting for that." Han began coughing again. Leia only rolled her eyes, but she was also blushing. She HAD actually wondered what the smuggler looked like sans clothing and was embarrassed as hells about it. Between the two of them, Han was soon clad in the thick shirt and still shaking.

"Okay, Nerfherder, you know what's next," Leia said, authority in her voice.

"Why, Your Worship, I thought you'd never ask!"

Leia couldn't believe that as ill as Han was, he was still trying to be outrageous. She groaned as she helped him out of his bloodstripes.

"We'll leave the thermals on here, too," Leia informed him in a business-like manner.

"I hope you'll do it again sometime. Only without the thermals." Han managed to wink at her. "It's freezing in here."

"Well, I have the blankets you lent me," Leia said, tucking him gently into bed and covering him up. "These should help. I have two Zoprex left. I'll bring some hot tea back."

Han responded with a cough. "Thanks, Your Highnessness."

"Stay where you are," Leia ordered him.

"Yes, ma'am."

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Leia stopped by medical on her way to the mess hall. The bays were full of suffering officers, soldiers and support staff, all of them too sick to be in their quarters.

"I need some Zoprex for Captain Solo," she told the med droid manning the entryway.

"I can give you some, but our supplies are low," she was informed.

"I'll take what you can give me," Leia replied.

"I only hope he'll not need a bacta dip. We've nearly exhausted the supplies we have."

"General Rieekan ordered him to quarters."

"Good. Perhaps the captain is sick enough that he'll listen." Han had a reputation for being independent minded and stubborn. He wouldn't disobey a direct order from General Rieekan, but that was about as much authority as he recognized.

"Not likely," Leia said dryly as she took the small number of pills from the droid.

Her next stop was the mess hall. It was thinly populated; the evening meal was just beginning to be prepared. The cooks tried as best they could, but skimpy supplies and lack of variety didn't exactly make the palate eager.

There was, however, a wide selection of kafs and teas, consumed in large quantities. Lack of sleep was second in topics of discussion after the cold. They depended upon the constant supply of liquid stimulants to keep going.

Leia filled a huge mug with an herbal tea that she'd seen Han sipping (why the hells did I remember that, she chided herself) and filled another one for herself.

"Will there be any soup tonight?" Leia asked one of the cooks.

The cook shrugged. "Until we get some new supplies, that's about all we've got. I'd give you some, but it's got no flavor at all."

"It never does," Leia murmured. "I'll be back," she said, exiting the mess hall.

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Back in Han's chamber, he continued to shiver uncontrollably.

"Here, take these," Leia said, handing him two pills and a mug of hot tea.

"Thanks," Han said, wrapping his hands around the hot mug, trying to warm himself. Leia handed him two tablets. Han tried to swallow them and gagged.

"That's how I felt trying to swallow those things when I had this," Leia said to him.

"I think this has to be the worst sore throat I've ever had," Han whispered.

Leia impulsively smoothed Han's hair, now matted with sweat. His response was a sigh of relief.

"You've probably got a lot of work -" Han tried to muster, but fell back on to the bed, coughing spasms wracking him. Some of the hot tea ended up on the sheets. Leia went to his foot locker and located a towel that had definitely seen better days, but it would do to cover the wet spot that the tea had left. She was relieved that none of it had gotten on him.

"Thank your for not making me sleep in the wet spot," Han said, a small smirk on his face.

"You're welcome," Leia said dryly.

"As I was trying to say, you've probably got a lot of work to do." Han's voice, normally deep and rich, was barely more than a squeak.

"I do, but I'll be back later."

Han tried to give a flirtatious smile. "Is that a promise?"

"I'll bring you some soup." She finished tucking the blankets in around him. "Try to get some rest."

Strangely, the idea of checking up on Han later was not disturbing to her. Not in the way she wished it would, anyway.

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Dinner was finally served. It didn't look particularly appetizing, but then again, it almost never did.

"Princess, have a seat," General Rieekan called to her. He generally took an early dinner and ate quickly. He loved his troops, cared more deeply for them than they'd ever realized, but he was not one to mingle with them.

"Thank you," Leia responded. She stared at the soup and flatbread. "Any idea what kind of soup this is?"

"I never ask," Rieekan assured her. "Because I really don't want to know. How is Captain Solo?"

"I had some work to do, so I left him a couple hours ago. He wasn't looking very comfortable."

"We're so low on bacta and meds in general that if we're attacked, we won't be able to take care of the injuries that always seem to occur." He grimaced. Rieekan took the loss of every soldier personally.

"He got some Zoprex, which will hopefully get his fever down." Leia suddenly realized how tired she was. She'd been free of symptoms for nearly a week, but the exhaustion stayed with her. She mostly ignored it, at least as much as possible with the help of kaf and tea. "What amazes me is that any microbe can exist on this godsforsaken ball of ice."

"It's always a problem when you have people in close quarters," Rieekan reminded her. "And I'm never sure of its source, and we have neither the time nor the resources to seek out patient zero."

"I agree."

"The biggest problem is that the microbes that cause these illnesses

is that they mutate so rapidly, it's hard to get a handle on them, and bacta is great for most things, but some microbes just need time and symptomatic relief."

Better food would probably help, Leia thought, but didn't voice her opinion.

"There've been wars where more people died of various infections than from artillery," Rieekan pointed out. "We've been fortunate that nothing more serious than various forms of influenza have taken hold here."

And some of them can kill, Leia remembered from a history lesson she'd taken so long ago. How old was she when she was taught that? Eight? Ten? That part wasn't clear to her. Being a child felt so very, very far away.

"You'd best check up on Captain Solo, Princess. You're relieved for the evening."

"I have a great deal to catch up on."

"Check in on Solo periodically. Tomorrow, you can pick up where you left off."

Leia opened her mouth to protest, but you didn't go to the mat with the general unless you were positively certain your position was indisputable.

Maybe I'm getting paranoid, she thought to herself. It seemed as if Rieekan pushed them into situations together as often as possible. Next week she was due to head to Ord Mantell with Han to get provisions and supplies. She was oddly excited to go off planet, which she attributed to the nonstop cold and snow. Who wouldn't, she told herself.

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Leia knocked lightly at Han's door, just to signal him, as he probably was asleep; she'd left it unlocked when she'd gone to dinner.

"I brought you some soup," she announced, trying her best to keep her tone formal.

"Just set it down," Han said to her, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm not hungry."

"You're going to have to eat, sooner or later," she reminded him.

"Later is better."

An idea crossed Leia's mind. "Do you have any provisions on the Falcon that you'd like?"

"No." He didn't mention to Leia that he'd used up nearly everything that wasn't a root vegetable or an emergency ration bar in taking care of her the previous week.

"Are you feeling any better yet?"

"Honestly? No. I'm freezing." He continued to shiver, even under four blankets.

Leia thought about his situation and what she could do to help Han.

I'm going to regret this, she told herself as she removed her snow suit jacket, revealing her thermal shirt.

"You have to promise to never breathe a word to this of anyone," she ordered severely.

"About what?" Han blinked at her.

"Move over, Flyboy." She eased herself on to the cot, which was barely designed for a single adult, let alone two of them, but she was small, clearly an advantage in this situation. "And don't try anything funny."

"Your Worship, if there was any time I wouldn't try something funny, it'd be now." He moved so that she could nestle herself into his body, finding the fit surprisingly comfortable. It took a while, but soon he was shivering less and fell asleep. Leia had intended to be gone by this point, but she found herself drowsing. Soon, she was sound asleep.

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Leia suddenly woke up, disoriented. It didn't take long to realize that she'd fallen asleep in the same bed as Han, and he had his arm lazily draped over her.

She quickly moved out of the small bed, grabbing her snowsuit jacket, and slipped it back on. She had no idea what time it was, but she hoped that no one was awake to see her sneak out of the room.

Han stirred. Oh kriff, she told herself.

"You leaving already?" Han mumbled groggily.

"I...I'm on duty at 0600," she said, clearly discombobulated. "I have to go. And," she continued, her tone severe, "if you ever breathe a word of this to anyone, you'll be in much worse shape than you are now."

"I can be discreet," Han told her.

"Good. I hope you're feeling better."

"I am. It was kinda nice, having you here with me."

"Well, don't look for it to become a habit."

"Too bad," Han said, and sank back into slumber.

At that moment, there was nothing she wanted more to do than climb back into bed with him. It had been the most refreshing sleep she'd experienced in years. Leia discovered that it was one of the few times since she was fifteen that she'd felt absolutely safe.

Leia marveled at how much he looked like an innocent little boy while he slept.

She opened the door, and peered around to make sure there'd be no one seeing her leave Han's quarters. Then, she glanced back at him and whispered, "Feel better."

Oh my gods, she told herself as she headed for her quarters, what have I done?