A/N: Here's just something that popped into my head when I was messing around and procrastinating on studying for exams. What might have been going through Leia's thoughts during the infamous Scoundrel's scene. Very fluffy.

Interlude

"Hey, Your Worship, I'm only trying to help."

I snort to myself. Han Solo, Correllian Smuggler Extrodinare, helping someone? Right. I'm sure he fancies himself to be the suave and dashing rescuer of some poor damsel in distress. Of course, the poor damsel in distress is only trying to rewire the support electrical generator so that we could get out of here and escape the annoying Imps but still. With this man's swollen ego he would probably demand a medal for it.

Ok, so maybe that's not exactly true. I did practically have to pay him to receive that medal for the whole rescue-the-princess-nearly-die-in-the-trash-compactor-leave-and-then-come-back-to-help-destroy-the-Death-Star episode. And then he refused the reward money, even after all that trouble.

There is definitely something more to Han Solo then meets the eye. On the outside he's just another callous mercenary who also happens to be annoying. Very annoying. Extremely annoying. But still, on the inside there's something more to him, something, I don't know, good. He tries to keep it hidden, sure, but in the past months as our friendship has grown he's slipped and let some of it show. And the more I saw of it, and of the man that Han Solo really is, the more I started to feel something that I really will not allow myself to look to closely at.

Oh wait, the man my thoughts are currently residing just said something to me. It might be a good idea to say something back, lest he think I'm messed up in the head or anything (or at least more messed up than he already thinks I am.) Ok, quick Leia, say something witty.

"Would you please stop calling me that?"

Yes, witty. That worked. And besides, I don't know why I would even bother to ask him to be considerate. Its not like he ever listens to me or anything.

"Sure Leia."

Whoa, what? Did Captain Han Solo just listen to me? When did that happen?

I look at him like he's suddenly announced that his secret passionate desire is to go skinny dipping with Darth Vader. This man was so freaking confusing, honestly. He could be so nice and well, not like he usually is one minute (although that really did not happen all too often) and then the next he would be so aggravating that the only appropriate response to him would be a swift kick in the arse (that happened a lot more frequently.)

But still, like I said, he really can be, well, sweet sometimes.

Like that time back when they were moving the rebel base to Hoth. I had lost my stuffed nerf- bedtime companion of one princess since the age of two and the only thing I had left from my home planet. Departure was in three hours and I hadn't packed yet because I'd spent last four looking for Nerfy and, after scouring the entire base twice over, I had given up and was sobbing the corner of some random supply closet. I knew that the entire thing was frivolous and I usually do not care for frivolity- after all it was just a toy- but it was the only thing left from my life on Alderaan and, quite frankly, I didn't care that I was being childish and unreasonable. I just wanted Nerfy.

I remember that the captain had walked in right as a few tears escaped from my clenched eyes, and I was so distraught that the only thing I could do when he asked me what was wrong was wail that I had lost Nerfy and bury my head into my arms. And I knew that Han was sorely tempted to comment on my choice of name for the stuffed animal (ok, I was two years old, how much ingenuity did you have when you were two?) but instead he just slid down on the floor next to me and then, after a small moment of hesitation, somewhat awkwardly wrapped his arms around my small frame.

I could to nothing but cry on his shoulder, but after my sobs had had quieted a bit, he had smiled gently at me, told me he had a surprise and pulled out the beloved toy from behind his back. I had been so astonished I could to nothing but gape at him. And to my inquiries to how he had found the escaped Nerfy, he had done nothing but reply that of course he had known where to find Nerfy because, after all, he was a nerfherder.

I had thought that after that incident maybe things would be different between us, that our arguments might subside or he might be a little nicer or something. Of course, nothing of the sort had happened- our arguments were as loud and as explosive as ever and the captain was still the same arrogant, obnoxious git we had all come to know and, er, not love. But looking back, I really am glad that those things hadn't changed. It's good to know that even with the war going on and the people dying every day and the rebellion struggling to stay alive, there's always an aggravating Correlian smuggler to pull my hair and call me Your Worship or something else equally infuriating.

But still, sometimes I can catch a glimpse of a spark of decency underneath the carefully honed and callous exterior. And even more often than that, I can catch him looking at me, with this strange, sort of smoldering look that tends to send pleasant shivers up my spine.

"You make it so difficult sometimes."

Difficult for me to understand him. Difficult for me to understand my feelings towards him. I don't want to feel anything towards this man, except friendship and perhaps annoyance when he's being a laser brain (and he really is good at being a laser brain.)

But yet, I can't help searching him out the minute I walk into a room. I can't help my gaze from flickering over to him during the more boring daily briefings (and during the not-so-boring ones also.) I can't help feeling giddy on the inside every time the man smiles at me. And I especially can not help myself from feeling a surge of jealousy every time I see him talking and laughing with the other female pilots, any more than I can help myself from storming over and starting some pointless argument with him just so he would stop flirting with them and starting fighting with me instead.

I had always been the girl in control of things, the one in check of her emotions, the ice princess, yet ever since I had met Captain Han Solo I had not been very in control of my emotions nor my actions at all. There is something about this man that sets me off, that makes me act, well, like a girl, a human. I'm not supposed to be human, I'm supposed to be Princess Leia Organa, leader of the rebellion, an example for others to keep up their morale or whatnot. Yeah something like that. I cannot go off and start having all these uncontrolled…feelings…for some space pirate. And that was why Solo makes things so very difficult.

Not that I have any feelings for him anyway. The above thoughts are only hypothetical. Really. I feel absolutely nothing towards him, except annoyance because, well, the man is annoying. And stop giving me those raised eyebrows, Princess Leia Organa is perfectly happy in her denial, thank you very much. In fact, she is so happy that she is starting to go delusional, seeing how she's talking to herself about herself in third person. Huh, yes, definitely losing it. Oh wait, pay attention Leia, he's talking to you again.

"I do, I really do… You could be a little nicer though. Come on, admit it. Sometimes you think I'm all right."

I finally give up trying to rewire this thing and turn to face Han. Stupid flippin' switch…crank… thing…what is that called again? Well whatever it is, it can fix itself. Idiotic…thingy-ma-bober, making me cut my hand on its…revolving…sharp…part. You know, I should really learn the names of everything, if I want to be any help fixing this bucket of bolts.

"Occasionally…maybe…when you aren't acting like a scoundrel."

He really is okay most of the time. More than okay. But there was no need for me to tell him that and inflate his ego even more. And besides, I meant what I said. He is alright when he's not being a complete moron and deliberately pissing me off, or being all daft and arrogant and thinking that he's the center of the galaxy, or-

Ok, wait, why is he holding my hand? And furthermore, why is he now caressing it? And why is my heart rate speeding up? Why is it that the proximity of our bodies is causing swooping sensations in my stomach? What is it about this man that makes me just lose it? It's not fair, twenty years of complete and utter control of myself and everything around me, and then one touch from this guy and everything flies out the window.

I really hope my hands aren't sweaty.

"Scoundrel? Scoundrel? I like the sound of that."

Look at him, talking like there's nothing weird going on. Of course with him, he probably pulls this on every girl he meets so I'm not anyone different. Just another eventual notch on the bedpost. But still, it feels good, whatever he's doing to my hands. It's cold in deep space, or in some hole in an asteroid, or wherever we are, and my hands weren't exactly enjoying the chill (because of course, the Falcon's heater wasn't working.)

My eyes dart up to his face then back down to our entwined hands.

"Stop that."

I really do want him to stop. Well actually, no I don't- it feels good- but if he keeps on looking at me like that I'm not sure I'm not going to do something I am definitely going to regret.

What is it about this man that makes him so…intoxicating?

"Stop what?"

What did he mean stop what? Does he not notice how he's holding my hand and gently caressing it with his own, or how he was standing close enough to hear my heart pounding, or how he's looking at me in a way that turns my legs to jelly? Does he not see how just his presence makes the butterflies in my stomach go wild and how the smell of him- soap and engine fuel and something else that is distinctly Han- keeps my mind from forming coherent sentences? Is he really not noticing any of this?

Typical Solo, oblivious to everything. But like I said before, he really, really needs to stop every single thing that he's doing before I lose all self-control and close that small gap of space between our lips.

"Stop that. My hands are dirty."

Oh, great excuse to get him to stop Leia. He'll buy that, really. Seems my ingenuity hasn't increased from when I named my stuffed nerf Nerfy at two to when I tried to get Han Solo to let go of my hands by telling him that they were dirty twenty years later.

"My hands are dirty too. What are you afraid of?"

Psh, afraid? Leia Organa isn't afraid of anything. Except for, of course, the way Han Solo is looking at her right now. That look he's giving her makes her want to run away and hide under the bed in a very undignified manner. Because that look he's giving her is making her feel things, things that- as cheesy as it sounds- she never thought she would ever feel. But he doesn't need to know that. Ignorance is bliss right? Like, I'm pretty happy in my denial about having feelings for Han. What feelings for Han? Exactly.

"Afraid?"

So maybe if I just deny everything he says then he'll go away. That's what I really want- just for him to go away so I can stop feeling these…things, and then everything will be good again. That's what my head is saying anyway. My heart, well, my heart is screaming at me to grab him and hold on and never ever let him go.

Wow, Leia, that was incredibly corny. Excuse me while I go vomit in the afthold. Stop letting all this romantic flirting stuff get to you girl! Pull yourself together. Just, act indifferent. Act calm, collected. Be ice princess-y.

See how the great have fallen. I am giving myself a pep talk in order to keep myself from throwing myself at an arrogant, moronic, infuriating space pirate. Who in fact is also incredibly sweet. Occasionally. And funny. Sometimes. And sexy. Always.

Aw man, I am in so over my head. I told myself that I would rather pour beef barely soup down Mon Mothma's back in the middle of a briefing in front of the entire High Council than go this far in. And now, I'm afraid, I am in too deep to get out.

"You're trembling."

Ok, you know what? It's cold. Me trembling has nothing to do with the fact that Han Solo is standing with his face mere inches away from mine. My body is merely shaking in an attempt to warm itself up. Because its cold. And besides, I'm not trembling.

"I'm not trembling."

See? If I say it out loud it must be true.

"You like me because I'm a scoundrel. There aren't enough scoundrels in your life."

Wow, he is really close now. Maybe I should back up. Oh wait no, that's a wall behind me. As much as I want to escape I can't because, you know, solid wall and all that. Although I wouldn't really mind staying here and having him look at me like that. It's quite… nice. And his voice is all low and seductive…hmm, Han Solo, a seductress- er, seducer, who knew?

And contrary to what he said, there are, in fact, enough scoundrels in my life. He's in my life isn't he? One of him is about all that I can take. If any other scoundrels are anything like Captain Han Solo, then I definitely do not need more scoundrels in my life.

Besides, I don't think there's anyone in the galaxy quite like Han.

"I happen to like nice men."

Ok, proximity of Han's body to mine definitely messing with mind. Look, can't form complete sentences. Can only think of deep hazel eyes, feel of callused hand, face inches away, warm breath ticking skin…

"I'm a nice man."

Ok, well, whoever he is, Mr. Nice Man has me pressed up against the wall. I can feel his heartbeat. It's racing, just like mine.

Say something Leia, anything.

"No you're not, you're-"

…Oh my.