Forty Days to Bespin by Leela Starsky

After many, many requests over the last 15yrs, I have decided to upload this story here.

I wrote it soon after stepping into the world of the Internet in 1999, and discovering that I was not alone in my fanfic writing or Han/Leia obsession. It was first published in Carolyn Golledge's fanzine Bloodstripe #4 in 2004.

NOTE: In my version of this galaxy far, far away, the Galactic Standard Year consists of 10 calendar months, each containing 40 days, or four 10-day weeks. A Galactic Standard Day consists of 20 fifty-minute hours. But this is usually deferred in preference to local time.

Inspirational music: "The Empire Strikes Back" soundtrack by John Williams, "The Mummy" soundtrack by Jerry Goldsmith, "Dinosaur" soundtrack by James Newton Howard, "Book of Secrets" by Loreena McKennitt, and "Touch" by Sarah McLachlan.

FORTY DAYS TO BESPIN

by LeelaStarsky.

The Imperial fleet vanished into hyperspace, away from the Hoth system and its accursed asteroids, taking the stowaway Millennium Falcon and her crew with it. A short hop back into normal space to dump their garbage, and then they were away in earnest – leaving the Falcon and her crew to float away with the rest of the garbage.

Leia Organa was impressed in spite of herself. "Not bad, Hotshot," she admitted reluctantly. "Not bad. Now what?"

Han Solo moved his hands across the control panel, restoring power to the ship's systems. "Now we find out where we are and hope we can find somewhere safe to land."

The monitor in front of him came to life, throwing a blue glow over his face, and he watched it, waiting for the navicomputer to figure out where they were. They both glanced up as a piece of Imperial garbage floated past outside, then the navicomputer blipped and they focused on the small screen once more.

"Where are we?" Leia asked, leaning over his shoulder to get a better look at the screen.

"Here," Solo said, pointing. "Near the Anoat system."

Leia frowned vaguely. "The Anoat system... There's not much there."

"I have a feeling – " Solo began, then punched in a code. "Let me check my logs."

"You keep logs?" Leia was more impressed by the minute. "My, how organised," she teased.

Solo started to scowl at her but the information he was looking for came up on the screen and his entire expression changed to one of reluctant anticipation. "Lando." He eyed the screen thoughtfully. "Now, this could be interesting."

"Lando system?" Leia frowned, trying to place it.

Solo chuckled. "Lando's not a system; he's a man. Lando Calrissian. Gambler, con-artist, scoundrel." He threw her a teasing glance. "You'd like him."

"Thanks," Leia muttered self-consciously.

"Bespin," Solo continued, reading from the screen. "It's pretty far, but I think we can make it."

Leia was reading the data herself. "A mining colony?"

"Tibanna gas mine," Solo clarified. "Lando won it in a sabaac match, or so he claims. Lando and I go way back."

She heard the uncertainty in his voice. Looking straight at him, she asked, "Can you trust him?"

"No," Solo admitted. "But he has no love for the Empire." Another piece of debris floated past, and Solo came to a decision. He leaned over the comm and told the Wookiee at the other end, "Starting the engines, Chewie."

A muffled growl came back in response, and the Falcon hummed back to life. Solo set the coordinates and the ion engines ignited, propelling the small freighter toward Bespin.

Safe at last, Solo thought. He leaned back in his seat and regarded the princess smugly.

Leia shook her head and admitted softly, "You do have your moments."

Solo's grin broadened, and she qualified, "Not many, but you do have them."

He felt her lips touch his temple, taking the sting out of her words, and he smiled as she moved over to sit in the co-pilot's chair beside him, heartened by the slow but steady thawing of his ice-princess. Then she asked quietly, "How long will it take to get there?"

Solo got an Estimated Time of Arrival from the computer and stared at it for a long moment. There was no easy way to tell her.

"Forty-one days," he said, expecting her to lash out, to vent her frustration on him and his ship. He did not expect silence, and looked across at her. She was obviously upset, but it wasn't a simmering, anger-filled silence. There was resignation in the set of her jaw. Her silence, her acceptance, left him feeling far guiltier than any of her past tirades.

"We might do it in thirty if I push the engines," he said. "But – "

"I'd rather get there in four weeks than not at all," she said, not taking her eyes off the distant vista of stars. "What about our supplies? Will we have enough food?"

Solo smiled grimly to himself, remembering how furious he had been with Chewbacca for overstocking the galley while they were preparing to leave Hoth. He'd felt guilty enough about leaving, but taking more than he and Chewie needed from the Rebels' already meagre food stores had seemed greedy despite Chewie's protests. Now, it seemed, Chewie's obsession with food would save their lives.

"Yeah," he muttered. "There's enough food."

"Good."

An awkward silence descended and it occurred to Solo that all of Leia's personal effects would have flown with her transport. He sighed regretfully.

"I'm sorry, Leia. I – "

"I know, Han." Her eyes slid toward him but did not rise above the level of the deck. She took a deep breath then climbed out of the co-pilot's seat, pausing briefly beside him, her hand on the back of his chair, and repeated, "I know." Then she left the cockpit.

Solo watched her go, and then took up where she'd left off, staring impotently at the stars and wondering what they were going to do for the next four weeks. Oh, he could fantasize plenty of scenarios, especially where Leia was concerned. He'd become a master of that over the past year. But reality was something else entirely.

Reality was Jabba the Hutt, and the bounty hunters tripping over each other for a piece of the price on his Corellian head. That bounty had almost cost Leia her life on Ord Mantell. Risking his own life was one thing; risking Leia's was out of the question.

Their kiss in the circuitry bay came back to haunt him, and he wiped a hand across his face. Solo, your timing stinks, he admonished himself.

See-Threepio and Chewbacca both looked up from their work when Leia stepped into the main hold. Embarrassed, she kept moving without having any idea where she was going. There weren't a lot of options on a freighter the size of the Falcon. Leia considered continuing on to the galley to get herself a drink, but stopped at the bunkroom.

Once inside, she shut the door, leaned against it, and allowed herself the luxury of a mental wail. Four weeks!

She sighed and surveyed the cabin. It hadn't changed since her last trip on the Falcon just over two weeks ago. The small medical bunk was still dusty in the same places, the spare bunk was still packed full of miscellaneous equipment, and Solo's bunk was still wearing the same ghastly sheets. Leia had made the mistake of commenting on their bilious mixture of chartreuse and purple colouring during her first– no, her second mission with the Corellian and his first mate, and ever since Solo had made sure they were on his bunk whenever she travelled with them.

Leia tried to see the humour of Solo's dedication to the running joke, but this time the sheets infuriated her. Four weeks. And she had nothing. No clothes, no toiletries, no personal – an unpleasant thought struck her and she rolled her eyes. She had two, maybe three days before her cycle began. How the hell was she going to deal with that here?

Moving away from the door, she sat on the edge of Han's bunk and tried to get her thoughts into some sort of order. The fact of the matter was she would have to deal with it. All of it. Even Han.

Her fingers fluttered across her lips as the memory of their kiss in the circuitry bay flooded through her, and she closed her eyes to relish it for a moment. No one. No one had made her feel like that. Ever.

But this self-indulgent daydreaming wasn't getting her anywhere. Leia took a deep breath and opened her eyes. And found them immediately assaulted by Solo's sheets.

In a fit of perverse vengeance, she stripped them from the bunk and tore each of them in half, making sure they could never be used again. She was surprised by the deep sense of satisfaction she got from the action. Then a truly delightful thought occurred to her, and she smiled wickedly.

The airlock alarm brought Solo and the Wookiee running. They arrived just in time to see her reset the hatch.

"What the hell did you do?" Solo demanded hotly.

The Princess drew herself up to her full one hundred and fifty-five centimetres and looked defiantly down her nose at him.

"What the hell did you do?" he couldn't quite hide the hysterical edge to his voice as he checked vainly inside the now empty airlock.

"I spaced the sheets," Leia finally answered.

"What?"

"The sheets," she repeated. "They had to go."

A strange sort of squawk snuck out of Chewie's mouth as he realised what the princess had done.

Solo glared at him briefly, then turned back to the small woman in front of him. "Sheets?" he asked, and then understanding washed over him. "My sheets?"

Chewbacca gave up trying not to laugh, filling the small space with hacking, honking barks.

"Those sheets," Leia assured Solo, retreating towards the main hold for the sake of her ears.

Solo shared an amused glance with the Wookiee then hurried after her. "I liked those sheets!" he said hotly.

Leia turned and regarded him tolerantly. "No you didn't, Han. You just kept them because you knew I hated them." Solo was struggling to maintain his indignant outrage. "And for us to survive the next four weeks together, the sheets had to go."

Solo's scowl cracked along with his resolve, and he ducked his head as a smile spread across his face.

It was infectious. Leia fought a battle with her own face and lost, but insisted through her smile, "They were evil sheets!"

"Mm," Solo agreed, sarcastically. "Pure Sith. But," he added, putting an arm around her shoulders, "you will have to be punished." Leia pulled away from him a little and regarded him through narrowed eyes. "You're going to have to remake the bunk," Solo pronounced.

Leia smiled. "I did."

He was taken aback. "What?"

"I did."

Solo let her go, and walked to the bunkroom, aware she was following.

"You cleaned," he said, surveying the small cabin suspiciously.

"I did." She sounded apologetic.

He looked at her. "You never cleaned before."

"I'm sorry." She shrugged. "I had nothing to do. I was going to clear the other bunk, but I thought – "

Solo eyed her warily. "We'd better find you something to do before you clean the rest of the ship."

"Mm," she agreed. "Without the dirt holding it together, it might fall apart."

Solo started to scowl at her, and then he noticed something sticking out of a drawer under the medical bunk. Two strides took him to the drawer, and he opened it to remove a neatly folded piece of sickening yellow-green and purple sheeting roughly twenty centimetres square. There was a small pile of them in the drawer. Solo glared at her. It was one thing for her to have spaced the sheets, but to have cut them into little pieces – ?

He waved it at her. "What the hell is this?"

"I'm female," Leia said, matter-of-factly, looking amused despite her faint blush. "Four weeks. Think about it, Han."

It took him a heartbeat to catch her meaning, and then he said, "Oh." And put the piece of sheet back in the drawer. A moment later, a sudden thought occurred to him. "Then what didyou space?"

"Don't worry," she assured him, "most of it went out the airlock."

Solo regarded her with genuine affection, and then made a show of inspecting his bunk. "Not bad, not bad," he muttered, then flopped onto it.

"Do you have to mess it up straight away?" she grouched. "Or is this some male, territory-marking thing?"

"Territory?" He grinned and moved over, ostensibly making room for her. "Absolutely." He patted the bed space in front of him invitingly. "Works even better when there's a female involved."

"I'm sure," she agreed tolerantly, and for a moment, Solo had the feeling she might be considering taking him up on the offer. But she merely indicated the clutter on the opposite bunk and asked, "So, where do you want this stuff put?"

Sitting up, Solo scratched his head and contemplated the task of shifting and sorting a mess that hadn't been looked at in, well, a very long time.

"You can use this bunk," he said.

Leia shook her head. "That's your bunk."

Solo frowned at her. "You've always used this one before."

"That was only for two or three nights at a time. I'd never hear the end of it if I threw you out of your bunk for four weeks."

Solo sighed. There was no way out of it; he would have to move the stuff. So far Leia had taken their predicament surprisingly well; the least he could do was provide her with her own bunk.

"We could put it in with Chewie," he supposed.

"Chewie won't mind?" Leia asked, considering the size of the small starboard hold that served as the Wookiee's cabin.

"So long as we leave room for his hammock," Solo shrugged. No, Chewie wouldn't mind; he'd be totally pissed. He would have to sweeten the deal somehow. Solo got to his feet and was conscious of towering over her. "Don't worry about Chewie," he said. "I'll get him to help, then he can't complain that I've put it in the wrong place or boxed something in."

He glanced down and saw that she was staring up at him with an expression of apprehension on her face. For a moment, he fought an almost irresistible urge to kiss her. But she suddenly averted her gaze and took a step away from him.

"Thank you for the bunk," she said, folding her arms defensively across her chest. "So, are you going to give me something to do, or do I start cleaning the cockpit?"

He gave her a look of unadulterated, if overacted, horror before taking her arm.

"Aren't you Queen of the Microfuser?" he asked.

"According to the know-it-all scoundrel who taught me," she agreed.

Solo grinned and led her out of the bunkroom.

Three hours later he found her where he'd left her, still working in the aft hold. The brilliant flare from the microfuser threw everything into sharp blue-white and black contrasts. He had set her up with a rack of circuit boards to work through while he and the Wookiee cleared the spare bunk, but had not expected her to still be at it. Microfusing was painstaking, time-consuming work.

He watched her switch off the microfuser to study her handiwork through the special goggles. As his eyes adjusted to the new light level, Solo realised the upper half of her snowsuit was hanging around her waist, revealing the body-hugging garment she wore underneath, and he took a moment to enjoy her figure.

Finishing her meticulous examination of the circuit board, Leia put down the microfuser and goggles and straightened her back, oblivious to him. Then she started rolling her shoulders and stretching out the stiffness in her spine. Solo found the tug and pull of the fabric against her body mesmerising. She was trying to ease the strained muscles in her neck with her hands but must have been hindered by the thick plaits wrapped around her head because, to Solo's surprise, she unpinned them, letting them fall like silk ropes down her back, then started massaging her neck in earnest.

Seeing the dark smudges of carbon she was leaving on her skin, he smiled and approached her. She sensed him and turned, her hand still on her neck.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," she responded, then glanced at the entrance to the hold as a horrible caterwauling drifted in. "What is that?"

Solo rolled his eyes. "Chewie singing. He found a box of old music tapes while we were clearing the bunk, and this is my punishment for lumping it all in his cabin."

"His punishment for you is to let him sing?" Leia clarified.

"Can you hear the noise he's making? Why do you think I 'lost' the tapes in the first place?"

Leia smiled, then listened harder, intrigued. She couldn't hear any music at all, just the Wookiee. "Is it Wookiee music?" she asked.

"No." One side of Solo's face twitched into a smile. "It's the Mud Wallows."

Leia laughed then quickly checked her mirth. The Mud Wallows had been a galaxy-wide sensation for almost ten years before sliding into obscurity about five years ago. At fourteen, she had been quite a fan and, because of who she was, had actually met the band. And had been shocked to find them amazingly crude – the lead singer had actually propositioned her! For the blossoming young woman Leia Organa had been at the time, it was a rude awakening to the sexual fixation of Human behaviour. Despite still liking most of their songs, it amused her to think that the band's music was being so abused by a Wookiee.

She waved a hand at the circuit boards. "You're right. Microfusing is slow, tedious, hard work."

"Especially when you do it for three hours without a break! I'm surprised you can even stand up straight."

Leia eyed the small stack of circuit boards and absently started rubbing her neck again. "There was always just one more bit – "

Solo gave an exasperated sigh. "You know what your problem is?"

"Yes," she answered, looking him in the eye. "You."

He smiled, but said seriously, "You work too hard."

"Someone has to do it," she said, defensively.

"Yeah, but it doesn't always have to be you."

He reached out to massage her neck for her, but she flinched away from him.

"Don't."

"Why not? I'm not gonna hurt you."

She inhaled sharply and, for a brief second, met his eyes. The pain and fear in them was unmistakable and left him flummoxed. Why would she be afraid of him?

"These are the ones I finished," she said, turning to the smaller of the two piles of circuit boards. And deliberately changing the subject, Solo thought. "You'd better check them. I wouldn't want to be responsible for – "

Her words regressed to a small gasp and her whole body tensed as he put his hands on her shoulders and started manipulating the muscles in her neck with his thumbs.

"Han, stop."

He thought he discerned a quaver in her voice and smiled gently. "No."

"Please."

There was a slightly panicked edge to her voice and Solo noticed her hands were gripping the edge of the crate she'd been using as a workbench. He said, soothingly, "It's just a massage, Leia."

He wasn't sure if Leia's silence came from her enjoyment of his ministrations or because she couldn't think of anything to say. Her body was still tense, but her eyes were shut and her head slightly bowed, allowing him the full expanse of her neck. Her skin was warm and wonderfully soft, her breathing shallow. To distract himself from the overwhelming desire to hold her, Solo changed the direction of his thumbs and concentrated on moving down her spine. And got an immediate reaction from the princess.

She gasped and stood tall, stretching her back. Then started to pull away, embarrassed, he suspected, by her unguarded physical response.

"Your hands'll get tired," she said, lamely.

"Ever tried massaging a Wookiee?" Solo asked, his hands still working on her back. "Builds up your muscles."

"You massage Chewie?" She sounded surprised.

"Sure. When he needs it."

He felt her relax a little and smiled. The inclusion of Chewie had switched the massage from the sensual category to the therapeutic one, making it safe for her to enjoy what he was doing.

"You're very good at it," she murmured.

I know, he thought, but kept his mouth tightly shut, not wanting to foil his own progress. Nevertheless, his ego crowed, Wait 'til you see what else I'm good at, Princess. He took his hands back to her neck. And then what'll you do, Solo? he asked himself, unaware that his fingers were now caressing her neck instead of massaging it. Show her what you're good at and leave? You really think that's an option? He tried to focus on something other than his desire for her, but his body seemed to be working independently of him, moving closer to her.

"You know you have carbon smudges all over your neck?" he said in a low voice.

Leia seemed to struggle with speechlessness for a moment and, in the stillness of the aft hold, and despite the distant caterwauling from the Wookiee, he heard her swallow before she finally croaked, "I need to wash."

Solo felt her hold her breath as he moved a braid to one side, bent and touched her neck ever so lightly with his lips. Once. Twice. And had to control his own breathing when her breath came out in a shuddering whisper that became his name.

"Han..."

Did she have any idea how much it turned him on to hear her say his name? And when she breathed it like that...

He kissed her neck again and felt her press up against him, uncertain whether he had drawn her to him or if she had leaned into the embrace.

"Leia," he murmured, knowing how powerful his use of her name had become, caressing her arms and drawing her closer, revelling in the feel of her body through her skin-tight undershirt. He traced his lips down her neck to the valley between her neck and collarbone, feeling her pulse beneath his lips. He felt her hand tentatively touch his head.

Abruptly she pulled away from him. "I can't do this," she said. "I'm sorry."

Solo regarded her for a moment, not wanting to push her too hard lest she take flight, but sensing she needed the push. "Because you don't want to? Or because you don't think you should?"

"Because you're leaving."

Solo studied his boots and Leia smiled tightly. "I better go clean up," she said.

"Oh," he said, suddenly remembering what he had originally come to tell her. "The bunk." She looked at him questioningly and he explained, "Heat-unit's blown. Probably why we stopped using it. I'll take it and you can have mine." Leia started to shake her head and Solo smiled and insisted, "Come on, Leia, you know how cold it gets." He ran his hands down her upper arms. "There's nothing of you; you'd freeze." A lewd thought occurred to him and he grinned. "Unless you'd rather let me keep you warm?"

Leia smiled tolerantly and replied, "That's all right; your bunk'll be fine. I take it water showers are out?"

Solo nodded, smiling apologetically. " 'fraid so. Tank's full but it's still a limited supply." His mouth twisted, ruefully. "The last thing we need is for the water recycler to go out."

"Mm!" Leia agreed, heartily, and headed out.

Solo watched her leave before making a mighty effort to pay attention to checking the circuit boards she had just finished.

Leia made her way into the small refresher cubicle, her mind and emotions in turmoil, and caught sight of herself in the small mirror as the door hissed shut behind her. She sighed and wondered what the hell she thought she was doing. Wondered if she could think about anything other than kissing Han and whether he had any idea how tempted she was to take him up on the offer of keeping her warm.

Irritated with herself, and with Han, Leia stripped out of her snowsuit and underwear, automatically feeding them into the autovalet beside the washbasin. Then she unplaited her hair, stepped into the shower stall and activated the cycle.

Almost immediately, the sonic waves started rippling over her, jangling her nerves. Leia loved real warm-water showers, would spend as much time as possible under one, and although sonics were effective at removing dirt and dead cells, they were nevertheless something she endured rather than enjoyed. She and every other human she knew. Except Luke, she thought. Luke, the desert-dweller, who had grown up with only sonics and regarded washing in water as a sinful waste.

For a moment Leia felt a whisper of concern for the young man. She hoped he had made it to the rendezvous with the fleet, and realised that she didn't even know if he'd survived the battle on Hoth. If he had, he would probably be worried sick about her. They would all assume the Falcon had been captured.

She raised her arms as the sonic unit moved into the last part of its cycle, lifting and separating her hair, allowing the waves to penetrate.

No one had any idea where they were. Sub-space communication was out of the question for the Rebellion's safety as well as theirs, and it was going to take the Falcon four weeks to reach something resembling civilisation. Four weeks for Han to...what? Pursue her? Torment her? Make love to her?

Leia groaned and leaned her head against the shower door. Was that what she wanted? Really? I want him to kiss me, she thought. I want him to touch me, hold me, love me.

Everything I touch, everything I love dies.

I know this...and still I want him.

Leia collected herself as the shower finished and stepped out, shivering from cold despite the warm, tingly residue of the sonics.

She opened the autovalet expecting to find her clothes laundered and dry, but instead found them dripping wet. Confused, she wondered for a moment if she hadn't misjudged the time, but checking the chrono she'd left beside the basin forced the horrible truth to sink in.

The autovalet seemed to have broken down. It was as unreliable as everything else on the stupid ship! Probably gone out in sympathy with the hyperdrive! Leia looked hopelessly at the small room she was in. Now what? She had no clothes! None at all! Her rage suggested it was probably another one of Solo's practical jokes and for a moment she pictured him waiting gleefully on the other side of the door. Whether for her shriek of outrage or naked dash to the bunkroom Leia couldn't decide, but she was determined to give him no such satisfaction.

Slamming the lid down on the autovalet, Leia grabbed the only towel in the room and wrapped it around herself. Then she opened the door and stormed out, daring the Corellian to be anywhere nearby.

The fact that he wasn't turned her theory to dust. And besides, she rationalised, there'd been no 'gloat' circuit in the autovalet.

She made it to the bunkroom unnoticed, shut the door and proceeded to look through Solo's clothes. Underpants were out of the question; there was nothing here that would even come close to fitting her. She pulled out a pair of pants with the ubiquitous bloodstripe down the seam. Fine, somehow they would have to do. And if Han had a fit about it, all the better!

Standing beside Threepio at the technical station, listening intently to Threepio's translation from the Falcon's erratic intelligence, Chewbacca was distinctly aware that his partner's mind had wandered despite his outward appearance of concentration. Chewbacca could understand his friend's loss of interest in the more mundane business of repairing what they could of their flying short-circuit, but the Corellian's distraction was irritating nonetheless. He had watched his friend kiss the princess in the circuitry bay and wanted to throttle him on the spot. In the middle of an unstable asteroid, an Imperial blockade waiting for them, their situation nothing if not desperate and Solo had been busy thinking with his gonads! And the fact that they were leaving the Rebellion to finally pay Jabba seemed to have slipped his mind entirely!

His human friend reeked of suppressed sexual desire. But then so did the princess. Chewbacca sighed, unable to fathom the ludicrousness of the human mating dance. They both wanted it, so why did they fight it?

Chewbacca was about to snap a reprimand at him when they both heard the booted footfalls and turned to look at the princess as she entered the hold. Chewbacca's eyes widened and he had to suppress a snigger as he took in what she was wearing, and looked to his partner to see his reaction.

Solo, it seemed, had been rendered speechless.

"You can add the autovalet to your list," Leia snapped defensively. "It seems to have cut out halfway through the cycle; all my clothes are wet." She indicated what she was wearing and added sarcastically, "I hope you don't mind, but the only other option was for me to walk around naked."

Chewie could hear the amusement starting to creep into his partner's voice as he stammered, "No, that's fine." After all, there wasn't much else he could have said. "Although the image of you wandering 'round the ship naked does have a certain appeal," Solo added.

Quick as a flash Leia responded, "I will if you will."

Solo laughed and Chewie barked at his partner, [I dare you!]

Leia didn't miss the awkward glance the Corellian threw at him before covering it with a laugh, and Chewie could see she knew Solo had no intention of translating for her. He was about to engage Threepio when Solo asked her, "Is everything mine?"

"Except the boots," she admitted.

[She looks like a mini version of you,] Chewie rumbled and Solo's face broke into a wide grin.

"He says you look like a mini me," Solo explained delightedly and Leia rolled her eyes.

"Wonderful!" she muttered. She looked pointedly at the technical station and asked, "Anything I can do?" Solo and Chewbacca traded looks and the princess sighed and rolled her eyes again. "Let me guess?" she said. "Food?"

Chewie rumbled happily and Solo merely grinned, then called after her as she headed for the galley, "Unless you know anything about hyperdrive mechanics?"

The conversation was subdued as they ate the meal Leia had prepared. Solo and Chewie both managed the obligatory compliments for her preparation of the food, but Leia suspected their hearts weren't in it. She knew hers wasn't.

The meal didn't taste bad exactly, but it wasn't good, either. A mixture of rehydrated noodles, vegetables and sauce which she was sure she had eaten somewhere before and felt certain would taste nice, but...

"Typical princess," Leia muttered into her plate, feeling more useless than ever. "I can't even cook!"

Solo and Chewie both started to disagree, but Leia's glare told them they would only aggravate things by trying to perpetuate the myth.

"Well..." Solo was obviously fishing for something good to say and having trouble. "Princesses aren't supposed to cook," he said.

Leia wondered exactly what he thought a princess was supposed to do, and asked him. His larynx bobbed as he swallowed nervously. Finally he answered, "Well, I always thought princesses were just supposed to look beautiful."

Eye candy! Arm furniture! Leia thought bitterly as she pushed the noodles around her plate aimlessly. Typical Imperial attitude! She forced herself to smile as she said quietly, "Oh, I failed that one years ago."

"I don't think so."

Leia smiled at his compliment. "Thanks, but I grew up being mistaken for one of the servants."

Solo leaned back in the couch and turned slightly to face her, his elbow on the table. "Maybe because you spent a lot of your time with the servants?"

"Well...yes," Leia admitted. "I felt comfortable with them. Real. There was none of the... I don't know... Politics? Airs?"

"You could relax with them."

"They were honest."

"That's why you were elected into the Senate." Leia frowned at him and Solo explained, "You knew your people, the real people. And they voted for you because of it."

And then I betrayed and murdered every last one of them! Leia stared at her meal, willing the tears not to come and afraid to move lest her inner trembling become apparent. She felt Solo touch her face and held her breath, unable to look at him. The hand retreated and she closed her eyes in relief.

"Anyway," he continued, "I've seen you looking like a princess, Princess, and you more than meet the beauty qualifications. Besides," she heard his grin, "you're in at least half the pilot lockers and they're never wrong!"

Leia smiled despite herself. Solo had told her about the pilots hanging pictures of 'porn queens' with her face superimposed onto them in their lockers a year or two ago. It had peeved her then, but it amused her now. In a warped sort of way. Unable to think of anything to say, and unwilling to waste the food, she forced herself to eat.

Han and Chewie seemed to respect her withdrawal from the conversation and chatted amiably beside her. Irked that she was feeling so emotional, and irritated by the fact that she could only understand half the conversation, Leia quickly finished her meal and excused herself. She needed to be alone.

Solo seemed surprised at her departure, but accepted her excuse without question and bid her good night from the table. For that alone, Leia was grateful. She'd been terrified he would expect her to kiss him good night, and the frightening part was that she wanted to. But Leia knew that if she started kissing Han, she wouldn't be able to stop.

She carried her dinnerware to the galley and decided to clean up the minor mess she had made while preparing their meal. All the while stewing over the excess of feeling Solo seemed to inspire in her. She was almost finished her clean-up when Solo stepped into the small room carrying his and Chewie's dinnerware. Leia tried to conceal her unrest by quizzing him about the operating rules of the small sonic dishwasher. He showed her the correct codes to enter; seemingly impressed that she had loaded the machine so well. But the minute they had finished the task, he moved closer and took her hand in his.

Here it comes, Leia thought frantically. He's going to kiss me. And I won't be able to stop...

"We need to lay out some ground rules here," Leia said hastily. Solo frowned at her and she plunged ahead, determined to say what she had decided she would tell him. "I don't want to get involved with you, Han."

Solo paused for a moment to regard her carefully, then looked at her hand as he let it go and asked, "Can I ask why the change of heart?"

"There is no change of heart," she replied stiffly.

"I see," he said, studying her for a moment. Then he added, "That wasn't the feeling I got in the circuitry bay."

He can't stop thinking about it either, she thought, but forced herself to plunge ahead. "I didn't say I'm not attracted to you, Han; I said I didn't want to get involved with you." She regarded him earnestly and reasoned, "If you hadn't dragged me from the Command Centre, I wouldn't even be here."

"No," he agreed, moving towards the hatch. "You'd be dead under the ice or Vader's prisoner."

Leia, struck by the bitterness in his voice and the truth in his words, hurriedly tried to sound conciliatory, "Han, I didn't mean – "

Solo paused at the hatch and looked back at her. "Leia, I didn't pull you out of there to annoy you, or to seduce you! I did it to save your life. I thought we were friends?"

Leia nodded. "We are."

Solo put his hand on the hatchway and considered briefly, then shook his head. "No, we're not." Leia looked at him, hurt and alarmed, and Solo sighed. "I don't know what we are. Me and Chewie are friends; me and Luke are friends. Me and you?" His mouth quirked up on one side. "We have forty days and nights of close proximity, Princess; I'll try hard to be on my best behaviour. But if I end up annoying you or seducing you along the way, I apologise in advance."

Leia watched him go and wondered how she was going to survive the next four weeks.

Before she went to bed, Leia checked the clothes she had hung up to dry in the 'fresher. They were still quite wet, the snowsuit particularly so, and it occurred to the princess as she walked to the bunkroom and shut the door that she had nothing to wear to bed. Not that sleeping naked was a problem – in fact she preferred it – but it was not something she was about to consider while sharing the room with Han.

Not yet anyway.

Leia paused and wondered where the hell that thought had come from. No, she would wear the shirt she had on, she decided, trying to ignore the part of her brain that seemed to want to run rampant with her fantasies. It covered her bottom, so long as she didn't lift her arms, and would certainly do if she had to rush to the 'fresher. It would do to sleep in.

She switched the room lighting to the dim, 'night' setting, and sat on the edge of the freshly made bunk. Han's bunk.

Looking at the recently cleared bunk opposite, Leia found herself imagining him in it. So close that if she reached out she could almost touch him. Long, lean, almost too big for the bunk. Naked? Yes, naked; Han would be the sort to sleep naked. And looking at her with...

Leia frowned and moved across to examine the bunk Solo had cleared for himself. No, it wasn't a trick of the dim lighting; this bunk was narrower than the one he usually occupied. Standard width. Looking back at the bunk she was about to sleep in, it was suddenly obvious where he had widened it. And 'why' took no leap of imagination.

Embarrassed, Leia couldn't believe she'd never noticed before, but then the surrounding clutter had helped to hide it. It wasn't a true two-person bunk, but it was certainly more than a single. No wonder it's so comfortable, she thought, cynically. And couldn't help wondering how many women he had brought to it.

For a moment she considered taking the narrow bunk, but Solo's admonitions about the cold were correct. Space was cold. Starship bunks were so cold that no ship's bunk was manufactured without a heating element.

Resigned, Leia sat on Han's bunk and removed her boots, then untied the cord she had used to hold up her pants. Solo's pants. Mini me! Leia repressed a smirk and wondered if she should add a vest to her ensemble. Ah, if only Alliance command could see her! The talk... Leia considered her thoughts. There would be talk. Lots of it. Especially once she was safely back with the fleet. The princess and the smuggler alone together? Either they would kill each other or... Leia licked her lips pensively. She knew the sort of talk that had been going around the base before the attack – the sort of talk she had always met with disdain and Han had sometimes encouraged just to infuriate her.

Sighing, Leia stood, dropped the pants, and stepped out of them. She put them on the end of her bunk and climbed in. Han's bunk.

The clean sheets felt soft and cool against her skin despite the subtle warmth emanating from the thin mattress and she smiled, pleased to be able to enjoy the sensation. The cold had been such an overwhelming consideration on Hoth.

Settling onto her side after getting the pillow into a shape that resembled comfortable, Leia looked out at the darkened cabin and listened to the sounds of the Millennium Falcon, the wonderfully familiar hum of the engines, and snuggled deeper into the bunk. The smells and sounds combined to create an environment in which she felt wonderfully safe. It always had. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that the ship had been the instrument of rescue in her Death Star liberation, but Leia slept better on the Falcon than anywhere and had never had a nightmare on her.

Despite the freshly laundered linen, Leia could smell Han's distinctive scent in the pillow; the aftershave he used and maybe his shampoo, but under it all a subtle scent that was just his, and this too was comforting.

A princess and a smuggler... Leia could feel Dodonna's disapproval already, and Mon Mothma's. Rieekan...actually, she suspected Rieekan would happy about it; he'd thrown them together on missions often enough. Maybe Rieekan had prompted Solo's return to the Command Centre for her? And maybe it had simply been Solo's concern...

Was he concerned for her? Leia rolled onto her back and stared at the overhead bulkhead, irritated with herself. Of course he was concerned; how many times had he saved her life? But did he care? Sure he'd kissed her, but Leia was far from knowledgeable in the area of relationships that were anything other than professional. Perhaps he simply wanted to 'bed' her? Maybe she was just another conquest or part of a bet with some of the Rogues?

Leia chewed her lip. That was the thing with relationships, wasn't it? Nobody knew what the other one was thinking. Someone had to take the risk – the risk of being laughed at, of being vulnerable. And starting something with Han... It dawned on Leia that the Corellian had been fighting their attraction just as much and as hard as she was. She sighed and settled onto her side again. So, did his kissing her mean that he'd changed his mind? And she had kissed him back...

Leia closed her eyes and wallowed in the memory of that kiss. The responses from her body were like nothing she had ever experienced.

Rieekan and the others would have them paired off by now, and Leia wondered if that was what she wanted? Was that what Han wanted? Leia wished she knew the answer.

"Because you don't want to, or because you don't think you should?" he had wanted to know. Leia burrowed her face into the pillow and answered honestly to herself, Because I'm afraid...

Solo took himself to the 'fresher on his way to the bunkroom several hours later, and was shocked to find Leia's snowsuit and underwear draped over the shower stall. Snowsuit, thermal leggings and top, socks, underpants and the corset-like undershirt that seemed so popular among women in the Alliance. Solo had seen far more attractive forms of breast restraint, but these were obviously comfortable and practical. He smiled, lingering over his inspection of the bra. The form-fitting garment was designed to conform to the shape of the wearer, and he could clearly see the imprint of Leia's breasts in it. He ran his fingers lightly over the soft material; imagined it cupping her breasts. Imagined himself removing it and his hands cupping her breasts... and felt his nether regions respond. Sighing, he hung the garment back where she had left it, and moved to brush his teeth.

His toothbrush was wet and he frowned, thinking for a moment that he must have already brushed but forgotten. Then he realised - Leia must have used it. And found the idea ludicrously erotic. To have something so personal of his used so personally by her...

Solo closed his eyes, acutely aware of the erection straining against his pants. How many times had he watched her brush her teeth? So many times that he knew her routine. Front to left to front to right, then open to do the biting surfaces... Solo opened his eyes and looked at his reflection in the small mirror, and wondered if Luke knew Leia's tooth brushing routine.

He applied paste to the brush and started brushing, trying to ignore the throb in his groin and the images his brain was throwing at him, fantasies of exploring her mouth with his tongue, and her exploring his. Fantasies of exploring not just her mouth but her body, between her legs, and bringing her to climax again and again. Just the thought of being inside her...

Solo spat and rinsed, and wondered how the hell he was going to survive the next forty days. And nights...

He looked at his bunk as he entered the softly lit bunkroom. The princess appeared to be asleep and, as his eyes adjusted to the low light, he could just make out her face, white against the dark shadow of her hair.

He started undressing, removing his shirt and blaster belt, then sat on the spare bunk to remove his boots. His bunk for the duration of their subspace journey to Bespin.

He stood briefly to undo his belt and trousers, sliding them past his hips, then sat again as he pulled them off, taking his socks off at the same time. Stripped to his underpants, Solo paused to wonder what he should wear to bed, and looked at the sleeping form of the princess, wondering what she was wearing.

He fossicked quietly in a drawer, found some comfortable shorts and donned them, leaving his underpants on the floor beside his socks. Then made a mental note to do something about the autovalet tomorrow.

About to get into his bunk, Solo paused and looked at the princess again.

Her face looked peaceful in sleep. Younger. The strict control she kept on her emotions and expressions relaxed. Solo crossed the small space between the bunks, the deck plates cold against his bare feet, and squatted beside her, mesmerised. She had loosely plaited her hair after her shower but it had obviously come undone, because now it flared around her head like a wild thing.

Gods, he thought, she's so beautiful.

The erection that had subsided as he undressed now returned in full measure. And, no longer hampered by his tight trousers, pointed eagerly at the girl asleep in front of it. As if its owner had any doubts about where he wanted it to go.

Solo breathed deeply through his nostrils and was echoed by the princess, who chose that moment to shift onto her back. That was when he realised she was still wearing his shirt. Just like she had in Farrouq's mansion on Coruscant. When he had pretended to be her husband just to keep her safe and Inconterza had almost raped her anyway.

"Leia," he sighed, then leaned carefully over her face to brush her forehead with a whisper-soft kiss. He then stood and went to his own bunk, settling the covers around himself as he lay down.

Leia woke with a start and lay still, orienting herself. She was on the Falcon, in Han's bed, limping towards a destination that depended entirely on the cooperation of Han's friend. The lack of control over her immediate destiny terrified her.

She looked across at the spare bunk, listening to Han's breathing, and felt vaguely disturbed that she hadn't heard him come in. It was unlike her, and suggested she felt safe around the Corellian, despite her belief to the contrary.

A wave of irritation swept through her and, glancing at the chrono over the bunk, she wondered what time Solo planned to get up. Deciding she still had an hour or so to sleep, Leia settled onto her side and let the comforting hum of the Falcon's drive lull her back to sleep.

- 42 -