Author's note: The material from this chapter onward is intended for mature audiences. This chapter is only mildly suggestive, but the story will probably get more descriptive later. We'll see how much my Beta takes out (naughty grin). If you're offended by adult situations, please hit the back button and search for something more family-friendly. Thanks for the reviews, folks. It helps figure out what I'm missing.

Han: Tatooine Revisited

"You ready for reversion?" Han asked as the timer on the navicomp neared zero. Leia nodded, so he said, "Okay, when the timer goes off, revert to realspace." They had discussed the ship's controls after breakfast, and Leia had absorbed the information quickly. She had asked astute questions about the ship's operations, and had responded to his hypothetical scenarios promptly, accepting his few corrections without dispute. The navicomp beeped, the princess pushed the lever forward, and the stars turned from blurry lines to glittering, individual points. Never one to be distracted while at the con, Han nonetheless couldn't help but briefly admire the beauty of the sight every time he made the transition to realspace. He quickly scanned the sensors, and determined that all was normal in the space surrounding Tatooine. "Think you can handle her for a bit? Just make and maintain orbit, and then we'll look for somewhere out of the way to land." His student seemed confident, but looked at him for confirmation before she toggled any switches or pressed any buttons. "Good job, Princess. Maintain course and speed," he directed as she achieved stable orbit. "We need to scan the surface near Mos Eisley," he pointed at the city on the scanner's topographical display. "Find a reasonably flat spot with low heat signatures. We don't want any company out there. We also don't want to be too far from the city. I haven't slept since we left Yavin, and I want to sleep as long as I can once we put down. That won't happen if we're a two-hour flight from the port."

"How about here?" She indicated a blue spot surrounded by concentric wavy lines. "It's only about 150 kilometres from the city; it's low-lying, so we'd be shielded from casual observation; the closest hotspot is a small one, at least 25 klicks away. Could be heat from the suns trapped in the rock, or a small nest of krayt dragons. The Falcon shouldn't have to worry about krayts, should it?"

"Not if we keep the shields up. That might generate more of an energy signature than we want, though. We'll check it out. If it doesn't look as promising from close up, we'll have to find something else."

The princess nodded, then reached for the controls until Han stopped her. "Not yet, Your Highness. The Falcon can be a little finicky entering atmosphere. Once we're in, you can take over, and I'll talk you through flying a low pass and landing." She moved to vacate the pilot's chair, but Han stopped her again. "Nah, stay there. This won't take long, and we don't wanna switch seats mid-flight." After a few minutes of reaching around the princess, Han had steered the ship into the atmosphere of the desert planet and could relinquish control once more. "Ready? Okay, put your hands over mine, and then I'll get out of your way." After she had followed his direction, Han leaned back in the over-sized co-pilot's seat, and continued to patiently give instructions. The close pass they took over their intended landing site showed no life signs, only a small moisture collector, so Han talked her through the landing sequence. "Way to go, Sweetheart. You're a better pilot than you let on. Keep at it, and you'll be flying circles around everyone on the base. 'Cept me, of course," he finished with a smirk.

"I learn quickly." Leia grinned as she parried his conceit. "Enjoy the feeling of superiority while it lasts."

The princess stood, stretched, and turned to leave the cockpit, when Han cut short her escape. "Not so fast, Your Worship. We gotta tuck this old girl in before we can go to bed. Sit back down and go through shut down procedures. If you hafta take off, the process will be exactly opposite. She handles smoother leaving atmosphere than entering, so you shouldn't have any problems with her until you get to base. Then, if you have to, you get someone with more experience at atmospheric entry to come up. Preferably Chewie, since he knows the Falcon. A shuttle can dock with the top hatch, and they can take you in, or at least co-pilot for you. Got it?"

"Why would I have to take off? You'll be here after you're finished with your tryst, and you can fly us back to base."

"Is that why you think I'm here? Why would I have to wait 'til first dawn for that? You're not even close. Like I said, I got an errand to run. It should only take a few hours, but I'll give you a deadline after I make contact. If you haven't heard from me by that time, you take off. Go back to the Rebellion--you must know where they're movin' to. Make sure Chewie gets the Falcon and everything on it. Now, let's start the shutdown, so we can get to bed." Han demonstrated the sequence for the princess, though she actually operated the controls. He made her repeat the sequence verbally twice, and re-enact it twice more. Then he made her reverse the process, going through the steps until he was confident that she could take off in a hurry if it became necessary. "Ok," he said, finally, "Let's hit the sack. I'm wiped, and tomorrow could be hairy." He rose and headed toward the crew cabins, stopping when he noticed she hadn't followed. He turned and called, "You comin', Sweetheart, or are you gonna stay there 'til dawn?" When she didn't respond, he retraced his steps and found her standing exactly where she had been when he had left the cockpit. "You comin' to bed?" he asked more gently.

"I, um, no, I don't think that's a good idea." Her fearful expression was not what he had expected, so he just stood for a moment formulating his response.

"I'll take Chewie's hammock; you can have my bunk again." He paused, knowing he should leave it at that, but couldn't resist teasing her a little. "'Course, you were the one asking me to bed last night. Can't blame a guy for trying." He watched her face carefully as he chuckled softly.

The princess seemed to relax a little at his attempt to lighten the situation, and shrugged. "I guess I can't blame you, but it is a woman's prerogative to change her mind." His chuckle grew louder at her statement, and he allowed her to precede him down the corridor.


He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw her standing at the foot of the hammock. She stood quietly for a moment, as though indecisive, then slowly started to unfasten her dress, letting it slide down her shoulders to the floor. He rose from the hammock as gracefully as he could, dropping the last metre to the deck in his bare feet. Worried that he would ruin the mood, he approached her carefully and asked softly, "Are you sure?"

She smiled and answered huskily, "Woman's prerogative." She took his left hand in her right and drew him closer to her naked body, slipping her left hand just inside the waistband of his sleep pants.

"Not here," he murmured as he nibbled her earlobe and caressed her breast. "Let's go to my cabin."

She nodded, released his pants, and readjusted her grip on his hand as she led him into the corridor, her dress forgotten. As they walked the short distance to his cabin, he admired her form: the curve of her hips and rear, the delicate indentation at the small of her back. He watched her unbound hair sway in time to her steps, obscuring his view and increasing his arousal. She palmed the controls when they arrived at his quarters and smiled over her shoulder as she pulled him toward the bunk. She sat, facing him, on the edge of the bed, and with gentle but insistent pressure on the hand she still held, guided him to his knees between her feet. With their faces only centimetres apart, she leaned closer still, smiling with her lips parted slightly. He bent to meet her in a kiss when she stopped him by placing a finger on his lips.

Her smile changed, became playful, as she shouted, "Captain, it's almost first dawn. Time to get up!"

With a surprised grunt, Han turned suddenly toward her voice, only remembering he was in a hammock as he fell from it. His previously discarded blanket was all that softened the blow as he landed unceremoniously on the hard deck.

The princess laughed at his predicament, but managed to choke out, "I'm sorry, Captain. I didn't mean to startle you. I'll wait for you in the cockpit."

Her continuing laughter faded as she walked away, leaving him to collect himself. "Damn," he muttered. The only consolation to his injured dignity was that he thought she had left before noticing his arousal. Han eased up off the floor, and headed for the refresher.


Nearly twenty minutes later, he arrived at the cockpit just as the princess was completing preflight checks. "I was about to begin the start-up sequence," she said with a hint of mirth.

"Alright," he said, his voice still somewhat hoarse. "Anything on the sensors that wasn't there when we shut down?" He checked for himself as she confidently replied in the negative. "Go for it--fire her up." Han observed quietly, resisting the temptation to give her instructions, or even take over completely. Once she had all systems warming up he asked, "Got the caf on yet?"

"No, I thought that was what took you so long to get here."

To ensure she realized he was joking, he snorted loudly and said, "Some co-pilot. Making the captain a pot of caf after you make him fall out of bed is obviously the highest priority. We've got a few minutes before the Falcon finishes warming up--we'll continue your training in the galley before you take off."

After Han had shown the princess where the caf supplies were and how to make caf to his preference, they stood awkwardly watching it brew. Leia finally broke the silence when the pot was almost full.

"So, it will only take a few minutes to get to Mos Eisley; where will that put your time line?"

"Figure on a half hour to land, shut down, and make contact for my errand. We'll leave the ship at half power, so we won't need to wait for warm-up if we hafta jet. Let's say three hours from the time we leave the Falcon 'til I'm done. That'll put us about 1100 local time. If you haven't heard from me by 1200, get to the docking bay. Watch for a trap. If it's all clear, take off. When we land, I'll make sure your palmprint will open the ramp. We still gotta find somethin' for you to wear. Hold tight," he said as he left the galley. He went to a storage closet near the crew cabins and withdrew an old nerf-hide bag. The items he sought were crammed under an old swoop helmet. He had not thought of them in years, but knew exactly where he would find them.

Leia had just finished pouring two mugs of caf when he returned with a bundle of clothing. He took a quick sip from the cup she handed him before setting it down. He held up the clothes for her inspection: a drab shirt, pants, and boots only slightly too large for her. They were obviously boy's clothes, but they were inconspicuous and she would have some measure of anonymity while she roamed the seedy port.

The princess grimaced faintly, but took the clothes and headed for the cabins. While she was gone, Han finished his cup of caf, and poured himself another. He was considering heading for the cockpit to wait for her when she made her appearance at the hatch. The over-sized clothes, and the way she had styled her hair--a full hanging braid on each side of her head--made her look younger and more innocent than Han would have thought possible. Guilt struck him as he recalled his dream. She's just a kid, he thought, but said, "that'll do. Much less princess-like. You'll be practically invisible dressed like that."

"I thought that was the idea," she responded, reaching for her mug. As she headed for the cockpit, Han secured his mug in the cleaner before he followed her at a distance, careful to avoid comparisons to his dream.