FrenchAnon, as you can see this fic is not over. That would have been a terrible ending LOL. Thank you, I'm happy you are enjoying it. Thank you to all readers :)
Leia closed her eyes and savored the taste of the spices that dazzled her senses. "Mmm. This is so good." It had been such a long time since she had eaten real food that actually tasted good. She opened her eyes to find Han staring at her intently. Something fluttered nervously in her chest. "How is your Corellian sausage?"
Han seemed to jolt awake. "It's good," he said shortly before cutting another piece and appearing to concentrate really hard on chewing.
Leia sipped her berry juice. "I feel so guilty," she admitted.
"Why?" He looked at her as if she were crazy.
"Because we're on a very important mission and I really shouldn't be using my time or the credits on this delicious meal. It's a luxury." Normally, Leia ate whatever was quick and available and didn't think much about whether she would enjoy it or not. But, when Han had suggested the Intergalactic Chef, she had been famished and quickly agreed.
Han pointed a finger in her direction. "First of all, we gotta eat. Second, I would hardly call this place a luxury." His smile was sardonic. "And third, the Alliance isn't paying for this, I am." He jerked a thumb towards his chest and returned to his meal.
It took a moment for his last words to sink in. "Thank you, Han," she said with quiet sincerity.
He looked up from his plate and paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "No big deal," he muttered and resumed eating.
Leia watched as he downed the last of his Corellian Ale and signaled to the serving droid for another. Sometimes, Solo really surprised her. For the first time, she was beginning to feel a genuine friendship between them. They had always been grudging friends. One moment, she would feel a tight bond between them, the next he would challenge her to the point where they seemed to hate each other. She wasn't quite sure which was more unnerving. The current Han Solo, who was kind and thoughtful, stirred something within her that alternately beckoned and frightened her. The more familiar Han, who was brash, sarcastic, and claimed little loyalty to anyone, was somehow more comfortable in his predictability.
He met her eyes and she returned her gaze to the plate in front of her. She had to stop staring at him. "You sure you don't want something a little stronger?" he gestured toward her glass of juice. Leia shook her head. She had drunk alcohol with Han before, but never when they were alone. And with the way she was feeling lately, it seemed like a disastrous idea. She needed to keep her wits about her.
The serving droid arrived with his ale and they finished their meal in silence.
Han sat back and smiled. "That was great. Haven't had Corellian sausage in too long."
Leia was surprised that he had given her such a clear opening into his past. "Since you were last on Corellia?"
His smile quickly faded as he seemed to realize what he had done. "Nah, I've had it since then." His usual aloof demeanor reappeared as his eyes darted around the large room filled with noisy conversation.
Leia sighed mentally. No matter how long she knew Han, she expected he would never open up about his past. She and Luke had speculated a number of different scenarios to fill in the gaps about who Han Solo was. They ranged from serious to absurd. Perhaps his family had been killed and he had decided from then on that he would always be a loner? Maybe he was secretly the King of Corellia? Or came from a family of Vestruvian circus performers? She smiled to herself.
Han settled the bill and Leia thanked him once more. He shrugged it off and led her towards The Sweet Spot. The traffic on the street decreased in desirability but increased in population as they sank further into the most urban part of Bar Shintok.
Leia observed the beings as they passed, noting that most of them looked unpleasant or dangerous. As the crowd increased, she was taken aback when Han placed an arm around her shoulders. Her pulse quickened and she stiffened under his touch.
"What are you doing?" she asked sharply.
"We can't be too careful," he answered in a tight growl.
Warmth coursed through her and Leia tried to distract herself from the heat of Han's hand on her shoulder. The stress of this mission was proving to be very different from what she had expected.
###
Entering the Sweet Spot, Han's eyes adjusted to the dim, hazy lighting and his ears were assaulted by the pulsing bass of music. When he had adjusted to the semi-darkness, he noted that the haze was caused by various beings smoking a number of different illegal substances. The scents of these mingled in the air unpleasantly.
Now inside, Leia took a step away from him as quickly as possible. It irked him slightly.
The main chamber of the bar was a large, round room filled with various tables and chairs made for all types of species, big and small. A bar stood in the middle of the room in the shape of a semi-circle. Many different beings amassed in front of it, ordering and sipping beverages. There were two sub-chambers and Han registered them with a strangled laugh. The one on the left contained a stage covered with scantily-clad, female, humanoid, exotic dancers. They gyrated to the fast beat of the pounding music. The same sight greeted them from the sub-chamber on the right, except that this one featured male dancers. They were slowly removing their garments in time with the rhythm of the music. Han glanced at Leia. If she felt any shock or embarrassment, she gave no indication.
He guided her by the elbow to a small, round table, obviously made for humans. It was the perfect location, against the wall where he could see everything around them, including the doorway. He indicated for Leia to sit then took the other chair next to her. Han flagged down the Twi'lek server as she passed by. "Corellian Ale," he told her. He turned to Leia.
"What would you like?" She shook her head.
"Nothing, thank you." Han's attention returned to the server.
"She'll have whatever wine you're serving." Leia aimed an irritated scowl at him but said nothing.
Han noticed her eyes slipping in the direction of the male dancers. "See anything you like, Your Highness?" he asked with a devilish grin. Now he received what he preferred to think of as 'The Royal Death Glare.' He inclined his head in the opposite direction. "Or are the women more your type?"
As her eyes spewed venom, he added, "That would explain your resistance to my charm."
"Charm?" she echoed icily. "Chewie has more charm than you."
The comment stung slightly but Han refused to show it. "Yeah, but I'm a lot less hairy."
The Twi'lek arrived with their drinks and placed them on the table. Han took a sip of his ale then returned his attention to Leia.
"So, what is your type?"
"Excuse me?" She seemed genuinely confused by the question.
"Your type," he repeated.
"What kind of guy is your type?"
She blinked several times before her brow furrowed. "I don't know."
Now that he had brought it up, Solo really wanted to see where this might go. "How can you not know?"
"I've never thought about it." Her words sounded genuine.
"Well, think about it now."
When she gave no response, Han looked around them until his eyes lit on an older human male. He was almost completely bald and was smiling with a mouth that was missing a few teeth. He nudged Leia and nodded in his direction. "What about that guy? He your type?"
Leia surprised him by smiling. "Yes. He's exactly what I've been searching for my entire life." She rolled her eyes and sipped her wine. As she swallowed, she grimaced.
"Not the palace vintage?" Han asked with a mock-haughty air.
She smiled again and Han began to feel pretty good about the evening. He scanned the crowd again and gestured towards a Bothan who sat nearby.
"How 'bout him? Too furry?" Leia laughed softly and it sent a tingle down Han's spine.
"Just a bit," she answered, lips still quirked upwards.
"I guess the guy of your dreams is more princely than that." His heart beat a bit faster waiting for her response.
"Why so much interest in my type'?" she asked suspiciously.
He downed half of his ale. "Just curious. Don't princesses wanna marry princes?"
She searched her drink quietly before looking back at him. "I've never really given it a thought."
"Marriage? Or princes?"
"Neither." Her expression was wistful.
"Don't all women think about marriage?" he asked in a gentle voice.
"I suppose most do." She smiled wryly. "It hasn't exactly been the focus of my life."
"So, no prince for you?" he asked carefully.
That wry smile again. "I imagine if I had chosen a different path it might have been so." She paused briefly. "I suspect I've outgrown that lifestyle." She sipped her wine thoughtfully.
Han nodded, pleased. The Princess was not looking for some high class gentleman. He finished his ale and caught the server's eye to signal for another. "You want another drink?" he asked Leia.
"No, thank you." She was still nursing her first. "What about you?"
"What about me?" He was thinking about the curve of her lips and what her mouth might taste like.
"Is marriage in your future?"
Torn from his fantasy, it took him a moment to process the question. He laughed out loud. "I don't think so."
Her eyes were teasing. "No little Solos running around?"
As his ale was placed on the table in front of him, an image flashed in his mind: standing beside Leia, her belly swollen with his child. It felt at once sweet and terrifying and he dismissed it as completely insane. He sniffed derisively. "Definitely not." But the thought lingered in his mind no matter how he tried to chase it away. She swallowed the last of her wine and with a wave of his hand, Han silently ordered her another. She placed her chin in her hand and gazed at him levelly. "So, what's your type, Flyboy?"
You, he almost blurted then decided he was done drinking for the night. He grinned. "Why do you want to know?" He thought he almost saw the beginnings of a blush creep into her cheeks but he wasn't quite sure.
"If you can ask the question, so can I."
Han smirked. What was his type? He had never really had a specific type. But he knew that right now, the woman sitting next to him was the only one on his mind. "I dunno," he finally growled quietly. "That Bothan is pretty cute." He nodded in his direction.
Leia shook her head with a smile as her second glass of wine was put in front of her. She gave the Twi'lek an odd look. Han took a look around them. In one corner table, there was a human male getting a bit too publicly intimate with a green humanoid female. He turned to Leia. "You ever been in a place like this before?"
She glanced around, brows raised. "Like this?" Her smile was ironic. "No, not like this."
"Well, don't say I don't take you to the classiest places," he drawled.
She sipped her drink with an amused smirk. "I've seen a lot of things these past three years that I never expected. Not much shocks me anymore." A dozen or so scenarios ran through his mind, all involving moments when he had shocked her with his comments or actions.
"I'll have to work harder then."
She feigned a dirty look in his direction. "I'm a little surprised Darin picked this place to meet. No wonder he was so adamant about me not coming alone."
Han had almost forgotten that this guy they were to meet was someone Leia knew well. He was less than pleased with the reminder. "So, how did you know this guy on Alderaan?" He tried to sound casual but wasn't sure he was pulling it off.
A small, private smile danced on her lips and Han felt that stab of jealousy again. "He's an old family friend."
Han nodded and hid his frown behind a well-placed hand. He watched her as she sipped her drink silently and her eyes roamed the room. Against his own better judgement, he continued his line of questioning. "How long has he been with the Navy?"
"The Alliance collaborated with my father to plant him ten years ago." Her eyes dulled slightly and Han felt guilty for bringing it up again. "Ten years as a plant? That's crazy." "As I said, he's given his life for the Rebellion." Han observed that deep admiration in the Princess' eyes again.
His questionable confidence wavered. His hand moved reflexively to touch his jacket pocket where the necklace rested safely inside. He pondered his chances with Leia for a moment. He couldn't claim to be some righteous do-gooder like this Alderaanian guy. Now that he thought about it, it seemed logical that a guy like that would be her type. But, Luke was that type of guy, and nothing had come of his huge crush on her. Frustrated, Han wondered why women had to be so blasted complicated. Leia was more complicated than most. And yet, in some ways, more simple. Her royal status certainly complicated things and set her out of his league. But, he had to admit, the woman did not play games. She was as straightforward as they came. It was one of the things he admired about her. And she sure as hell dropped herself down several notches to work side-by-side with the rest of them. Those were the times when he forgot she was a Princess. But then, he would see her heading off on one of her missions to acquire allies for the Rebellion. She would be dressed in something more formal and feminine and he would quickly be reminded. He enjoyed both sides of her equally. And maybe, if he were more straightforward, it might lead to something moreā¦
When should he give her the necklace? He had to wait for the right time. He just wasn't sure when that time might be. He was new to this. He never had to work at getting a woman to like him. He noticed she had not touched her drink in several minutes. "You wanna get out of here?" She nodded with enthusiasm. "C'mon." He threw some credits on the table and led Leia out.
