AN: Happy Monday! This has been bouncing around in my head for a while. And with all the drama of my last chapter of ITF heading your way in the next day or two, I figured we might need something fluffy and cute first. Cheers All!
(set about six month prior to ESB - before Ord Mantell)

"Do you mind?"

With a quick glance over his shoulder, he waved a hand to the seat beside him.

She smiled quickly before tucking her feet underneath of her in the way she always did when it was just the two of them and she wasn't feeling feisty. .

"Captain Freedom is starting to get up my nose." Leia sighed, sinking deep into Chewbacca's oversized chair.

"Starting?" Han scoffed. It was true. The young bright-eyed recruit assigned to them for this mission was overly excitable. He had peppered them both with questions and strategy information and batha-shit stories for the last seven standard hours. Or, at least, Leia rolled her eyes upwards and counted the lights on the console above her head, he had been doing that to her for the last seven hours. Han had sauntered into the lounge, stood for the count of approximately nine breaths, scowled, shook his head at her minutely and headed back to the cockpit. Chewie has stuck around marginally longer, making disparaging remarks which Leia misinterpreted to their comrade as friendly conversation until the novelty wore thin and he left her alone with the boy.

"He was you're idea, Sweetheart." Han sighed and ran both hands tiredly down his face.

"I suppose. This is a good first mission for him though. Better than sitting neck deep in sewage and blood, listening pointblank executions above your head."

"That was awful." he breathed, suddenly transported back to the second - or the first, if that business on the Death Star didn't count - mission they had taken together. They had been alone, crouched in the dark of an ancient cellar, his hands shaking so hard from both chilling cold and furious terror that he could hardly hold his blaster rifle. Leia had huddled into him, uncaring to keep her usual careful distance between them. He had held her, a life-grip on her as silent, frantic tears streamed down her face, while her entire body shook with fear and quiet panic against him, face buried into his throat; comforted by his own rapid heartbeat.

"Yes it was." she agreed quietly, remembering the same re-con mission, where they could do nothing except listen and try to forget the horrors of the surface assault above their heads.

They sat in silence for a few moments, uncomfortable suddenly with the fog of such a personal memory surrounding them.

"Where's Chewie?" Han asked, sidestepping the atmosphere altogether and dragging the conversation back to a more comfortable place.

"Asleep." She rolled her eyes.

"He abandoned you, eh?"

"You both did!"

"I've been busy."

Leia shook her head, she liked him like this. Alone together, they found a different footing with each other. Something they were unable to recreate in the company of others. Both too stubborn and headstrong. Both unable to give up even an inch. But traveling like this, quiet and peaceful in the safe familiarity of the Falcon's cockpit, they were different. They were better.

"You should get some sleep." He finally said.

"So should you." Leia covered a yawn with the back of her hand.

He raised an eyebrow and leered at her.

"Don't." she deflected, eyes staying forward. She didn't need to see him to know what he was doing.

"It's worth thinking about." he sighed and stretched again, now unable to not think about it. This was going to be a very long six days with the new boy on-board to get underfoot. He would much have preferred it be just the two of them.

"Where is Captain Freedom sleeping? Did you assign him anywhere?" She asked after a moment, another yawn threatening.

"So official. And I told him I didn't care where he slept as long as it wasn't in the main cabin or in the way."

"Oh excellent. So he's in crew?"

"Probably. Why? Is that a problem?"

"No, not really, it's just means then I'm left with medbunk…" She trailed off and shook her head exasperated. "No, Han!"

"I'll behave." he offered, dropping his voice unconsciously, praying - even though he knew what a long shot it was - that she would say yes.

"You won't. You don't even know the meaning of that word. And it would be entirely inappropriate in any case."

"How is it 'inappropriate'," he air quoted her the way he knew she hated and got a swift glare for his efforts. "For us both to get a decent night's sleep. Friends can share." He concluded.

She merely shook her head again, bottom lip now caught against her top teeth. He was pushing her too far.

"Tell your friend to take the medbunk then." Han changed tracks, it was no good to get her mad at him. That would make for an incredibly long six days.

"He's not my friend. He is a colleague. And I'm not kicking him out a bunk he was allowed to choose. That's rude."

"He likes you." There was a slightly different tone to his statement, as if finding something unpleasant with it. It was curious and she allowed herself a glance over her shoulder to see him properly and found him watching her intently. She blushed, invisible in the dark cockpit.

"No, he doesn't. And what would that matter?" She denied quickly, having been caught watching him.

"Yeah he does. I can tell. He'd move if you asked him." long arms stretched above his head.

"Men don't like me, Han." Her voice was so quiet and small even in the stillness of the sealed space that he swiveled to watch her at her words, expecting to find her slightly upset, but she wasn't. She was calm and serene, watching the swirling vortex of hyperspace encasing them.

"Men want to conquer me. Acquire me. Like a prize at the end of a strategic game. They want me, but are not interested in liking me."

He openly stared at her. She had never, not in the entire course of the near year and a half that he had known this rather remarkable woman had she ever divulged this kind of deeply personal information. And she was wrong. His heart rate jumped. So, so wrong. She wasn't a prize, true enough; but she was worth fighting for. Worth dying for. She was worth a hell of a lot more than she was giving herself credit of.

She was an aspiration.

"It's fine. Ice Princess, remember?" She smiled at his expression. His eyes light up at that term, as if ready to defend her, rally and deny ever knowing about it. But he knew; they both did, and lying about wouldn't help anyone. "It's fine. I know what people think of me," she stopped as if remembering a rehearsed speech. "I don't need to be liked in order to lead and serve a purpose."

They drifted into a less comfortable silence this time.

"Well. I like you." Han finally stated' a half whisper, the terror of vulnerability swirling around his mouth as the words slipped out.

"You do?" It was her turn to be surprised.

"Well. I like you today." He smiled sideways at her, effectively breaking the tension and switching gears yet again. "So, what's Goggles doing out there?"

"Goggles? He's starting the mission report."

"I thought you liked to do that."

"I do, but he needed a job." she sighed and leaned her head back, giving him a chance to admire her throat while she shut her eyes. "Goggles?"

"Rogue Squadron calls him that."

"Why? And it better not be because he wears glasses or something because if it is then you-"

"Hey, calm down. It's just that he wears his test-flight goggles around his neck all the time. He probably even wears them to bed - we should check on that later. Everywhere."

"Really?" she laughed lightly at that, not having noticed, and picked up the gloves laying on the console in front of her.

"He wants everyone to know he's a pilot." Han shrugged, in a small way understanding the green-eared kid. When he was that age, he would have giving anything for people to take him seriously. He would have given anything to be a pilot. He had, and it had cost him dearly in the process.

"That's not hard. He could just be annoying and arrogant like you." she smiled sweetly at him, wrapping the fingers of his old piloting gloves around her wrist. It was distracting.

"I'm liking you today, remember?"

"Sorry."

They sat again, quiet and comfortable for a while longer, both lost in whatever the darkness around them held.

"Leia-"

"Yes." She breathed, nervous at how she loved the feel of her name from his lips.

"I wanted to talk to you, tell you, actually…"

She turned her chair to face his, though he would not meet her eyes.

"It's been fairly quiet lately, on my end. Jabba seems to have moved on - it won't last forever - but I've been thinking I…"

He swallowed and she leaned closer, draw by something in his manner, something new and open and beautiful.

"I'm stayin'. With you." Her breath hitched and he finally met her eyes. "With the Alliance, I mean."

Her smile flashed in the small space, and she let out a half sobbed laugh.

"Well," her voice lit with mirth, "On behalf of myself and the Alliance, that is very good news."