A/N: Please remember to leave a comment if you liked it and to leave quietly if you didn't :)

Prompt: Slow dancing [trip to Bespin, ESB]


Waltzing

'I can imagine the sort of dancing you did with these prissy flirts of yours,' Han told her with a smirk. Leia snorted.

'Not all of them were prissy ,' she said under her breath.

Threepio had been left at the cockpit while they sat in the lounge with Chewie, sharing a meal. Leia had insisted on that arrangement: she appreciated the Wookiee and didn't want him to feel excluded from the group just because she and Han were spending a lot more time alone together now.

They were talking of past infatuations—that is, Chewie had spent half an hour telling her all about Malla, his wife and the only one he'd ever considered to be his mate, and then Han had "ceded" his turn to Leia. She didn't doubt that when his turn came around again he would claim to be too tired, or to need to go check on Threepio before the droid blew up his ship, but she wouldn't let him off that easily—not with the amusement he seemed to be getting at her expense. Han's remark had followed her recount of how her foster sister, Winter, and she would often help each other so they'd end up dancing with the guys they liked at the Royal Palace's balls in Aldera.

'Ha, that's what you say.' Han broke off a piece of polystarch and popped it into his mouth, then pointed a finger at her. 'How many scoundrels did you go out with before me?'

Leia pursed her lips but didn't answer that. She wasn't going to mention that she had been the scoundrel of all her young relationships. She also decided to keep quiet on the fact that she and Han weren't exactly "going out", if one were to be technical about it.

'That's what I mean,' Han drawled, leaning back. 'Bet they were all very proper little lordlings, bending over backwards to please Her Highness,' he continued, not in a malicious sort of mocking tone, but with his usual smugness that managed to amuse and infuriate her at the same time. He pushed himself off the acceleration couch and stood in front of Leia, grinning at her. 'Curtsyin' to you,' he said, dropping to a deep bow, 'before sweepin' you off your feet with some ridiculous little dance routine.'

He gathered all the empty food containers lumped together on the dejarik table and went to dispose of them, not before doing a silly little jig. Chewie roared with laughter and Leia chortled behind her hand. 'I don't see how that ever worked out for you, Princess,' Han threw over his shoulder as he crossed the main hold. 'Sounds about as romantic as Goldenrod jabbering on about protocol.'

Leia clucked her tongue and stood up, marching up to him. His back had been turned to her as he threw the containers into a garbage unit and when he spun around, empty-handed, he was startled to find her waiting for him, arms akimbo. 'Only because you have as much game as a rancor,' she said, poking a finger against his chest. 'I don't know what kind of period holodramas you've been watching, but traditional dances were done by a group of performers in festivals and bigger celebrations. In our balls, we would open with a waltz, but then we would all drift away with our friends—or our potential dancing partner. And then, if one was interested—' Leia added, grabbing one of Han's hands and holding it at shoulder height, her other arm sliding around his waist, '—you would get very close—' Han's arm automatically wrapped around her back and pulled her closer; he seemed mystified by the unexpected lesson but he wore a small crooked smile as his eyes followed Leia's movements. Behind them, Chewie let a very low Hrrrrrnnnn .

'Then what d'you do?' Han asked, lowering his voice to a husky mutter.

'Sway on the spot for a while.' She demonstrated by rocking her hips and upper body—and in consequence, his, too—to a slow imaginary rhythm, her feet hardly moving.

Han raised an eyebrow. 'An' you call this dancing?'

'We didn't do it for cultural value,' Leia told him with a toothy smile, lifting her hand to stroke his upper arm. She was wearing the thermal top she'd had on under her snowsuit with a pair of pants she had borrowed from Han; she wore no make-up on and her hair was pulled back in two plaits that converged in a messy braid hanging down her back. It was a far cry from what Han imagined she would have looked like in any of those fancy balls of hers, but it was the way he'd always wanted to see her: playful, relaxed and in his arms.

'Did it work? With your crushes?' Han asked her, still swaying with her. Over her head, he saw that Chewie had left.

Leia tilted her head down slightly and looked at him through her lashes, her hand still rubbing his upper arm. 'I don't know, you tell me.'

He had a hard time picturing teenage Leia pressing herself against some young man in the middle of a stuffy formal event like she was doing now, but he couldn't imagine anyone resisting her charms, either. Whatever Leia wanted, she would get, and he had learned long ago it had little to do with her royal title.

Han nodded once. 'They had to be real stupid if it didn't.'

Leia laughed and he kissed her, waltzing her back into his cabin.