Sorry for the lengthy delay in postings! All of the holidays and a few family illnesses set me back a bit. Okay, here we go...
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Under normal circumstances, Princess Leia would relish anything pertaining to celebrations, especially if they were life-day parties. Tonight's gathering for Wes Janson, however, had been an exception.
Of course she'd donned a sparkling smile for the brief amount of time she'd been in attendance – showering pleasantries upon Wes and chatting freely with the other partygoers - but in reality, her mind had been churning with regret over her carelessness, made even worse at the discovery that by the time she'd arrived, Han had already departed. And he never left a party, unless everyone else was passed- out drunk or there were no other Sabacc games to be won.
The docking platforms had been constructed on the opposite side of the base, giving her too much time to ruminate on Chewbacca's paltry explanation for her husband's early exit. Cub's not here, Little Princess. He said he wasn't feeling well and decided to head over to the Falcon…perhaps you should give him some space to uh, rest.
A certain freighter's familiar, saucer-shaped form began to take clearer shape in the nearby distance as Leia shook her head, unable to recall one instance in the three years she'd known Han when he had ever taken ill – apart from a few hangover-headaches. So, it wasn't really a question of whether he was mad (that was a given); the thousand credit question was to exactly what degree. She would find out soon enough, having finally reached her destination. It was a positive sign that he'd kept the Falcon's access ramp open, the princess convinced herself, her shoes clicking on the ramp's metal grates as she ascended…
Calling out his name, her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting before they scanned a motionless main hold, only muted beeps and chatter between the three computers which continually ran the ship's interconnected systems registering in her ears. There was a foreboding quiet hanging in the air and she called out again while venturing down the circular corridor, "Han, are you in here somewhere? I'm so terribly sorry about what happened tonight," reviewing her apology in an increasingly anxious mind.
She caught a glimpse of her husband's profile just outside of the crew's quarters and hesitated, lingering in the shadows a few seconds to assess the scene: he was shirtless, shoeless and in a pair of old sweatpants, effortlessly pumping out one pull up after another on an iron bar spot-welded to the ceiling plates…his muscles rippling under sweat-covered skin, all indications of a healthy man in the midst of an intense workout. The nearby punching bag's monitor flashed its 'Overload. Excessive force applied' warning in bright letters, making it easy to deduce that Han had beaten the bag to a pulp first, before moving on to his current status on the pull-up bar.
The princess inhaled a steadying breath. There had been a time, not all that long ago (and before pregnancy had changed her into an often-crying, overly-sensitive mess) when she secretly looked forward to verbal confrontations with him. But as she patted their unborn baby, who was squirming around inside of her to the point of mild discomfort, now wasn't one of those times. "Here you are!"
Nothing. Not even the slightest of breaks in his pull-up rhythm. "Han, I'm so, so sorry. I feel awful about-"
"I heard 'ya the first time," Solo grunted without bothering to look at her, a renewed rush of anger providing unnecessary energy to knock out more reps, his tolerance for eating more of the same excuses he'd been fed over the past many weeks waning.
Leia pretended not to hear the sharpness in his voice and tried a more subtle approach. "I stopped by Wes' party to wish him a happy life-day, but by the time I arrived there, you'd already left." She could have bitten her tongue off at that slip, briefly averting her eyes from his scathing glare. "He really appreciates your taste in gifts and wants to try out the Sabacc shuffler later, in the hopes that some of your luck will rub off on him. We could always go back together, if you'd like to. Are you feeling any better?"
Dropping down from the bar, Han appraised her coolly while his breathing moderated, amused (in a sick sort of way) that Chewie had echoed to her the same lousy excuse he'd used to leave the party his morose mood hadn't allowed him to enjoy. "Loads-better, Honey," he lied. "But for some reason I'm still having trouble shaking my shitty mood. You got any ideas as to why that might be?" he chuckled harshly.
She winced under the weight of his sarcasm, but took a few steps closer. "I can understand why you're upset, but please, Han, give me a chance to explain," she implored as he retrieved a rag off the deck plates and wiped perspiration from his hands, then the back of his neck. "High Command has been pressing Fedr and I to provide our preliminary recommendations and I was so preoccupied, trying to finish our analysis of the Denariik System, that I lost track of the time. On top of that, I had misplaced my commlink and didn't realize it until the end of the day. It was such a foolish, careless mistake on my part; I can't figure out why I've been so absent-minded lately. It's just so unlike me," Leia fluttered, finding some wayward tendrils of hair and twisting them around a finger, waiting for a reaction from his brooding countenance.
Solo tossed the rag onto the floor with a protracted exhale. His wife was too young, too pretty and too pregnant to stay mad at for long, he reminded himself. And now her large, doe-eyes were starting to glisten with tears, which always befuddled his reasoning as to why he was irritated in the first place. Calmness… patience! he inwardly chastised the aggravation collecting inside him. "Okay," he replied with restraint, adding quietly, "but this is about more than you losing your comm or missing Wes' life-day surprise. Do you realize how much time you've been spending, over the past month or so, on what was supposed to be a-part-time assignment? 'Cuz I can tell you for certain that you've worked late – way too late - twelve out of the last fourteen days."
It had been necessary to put in some extra hours here and there, but was his statement accurate? The princess wondered, a heavy feeling settling in the pit of her stomach hinting that it probably was. Why were old habits so difficult to break? She tilted her head at him, a defensive flush spreading across her cheeks that coalesced with a nervous giggle, "Have you been charting my work hours on the sly?"
Unamused, Han guzzled down gulps of water before wiping his frown with the back of his hand. He'd lost count how many times he'd expressed displeasure to her over this exact same topic. "As weird as it sounds, yes, I have been. Because, and pardon me for being a broken disklette, working yourself into the ground isn't good for you, or for the baby, or for us." She nodded in rueful concession, but then entered into a familiar dissertation on the importance of service and the necessity of a strong dedication to The Cause, before justifying the specifics of her assignment. He couldn't stifle himself any longer and balked, "Leia, you don't need to keep trying to convince me of the significance of this project. I understand that recruiting is vital to the Alliance, but there's other things going on in our lives right now that are important, too -" he stopped, a piece of silver-gray cloth peeking from her skirt's side-pocket distracting him. He reached for and plucked out the material, his eyes immediately zeroing in on its intricate embroidery and the initials "F. J. A." stitched in a corner. "What's this?"
It required the princess only a second to recognize the item he was meticulously examining. She reached for the cloth, but met resistance from her husband's fingers. "It's a handkerchief, Han."
"I kinda figured that much out," he clipped, unwilling to let go of the square of silk, or now his earlier resentments, despite her dismissive wave.
"During a break today, I spilled some milk on my blouse and Fedr was kind enough to borrow that to me. It needs to go into the autovalet, along with my stinky shirt," she noted with a wrinkled-up nose.
It was nothing, really. Only a dumb handkerchief.
But it was his – that irksome, Alderaani prince – Solo fumed, who got to spend all day, every day, on assignment with his wife; and yet would still manage to show up at their quarters unannounced, interrupting private meals and pre-arranged plans; the pest who would send messages and comm Leia until all hours of the night. Whether done intentionally or not, Fedr was creeping into their lives more and more and getting under Han's skin like a blood-sucking parasite. He was doing his best to be understanding, but every man - especially a hot-headed Corellian like himself - had his limits. Huh. wonder if the 'J' stands for 'Jackass'. "How chivalrous. Always the perfect gentleman, isn't he?" he drawled with a tight grin, mulling the odds of Fedr behaving oh-so-honorably when he would be millions of kilometers away, standing before Jabba and bargaining for his life.
Her husband's contemptuous tone was somewhat surprising, given the fact that despite some initial bumps, he had seemed to be warming to Fedr's presence and friendship. "I would've preferred to have changed into a clean shirt, but didn't have any time to return to our quarters," Leia explained as Han ran a thumb across the intricate Ashtean royal coat-of-arms, before noticing his narrow stare aimed on her. Why was he looking at her like that?
"Is that what all the laughing was about?" Han assumed out loud while balling up the handkerchief in his fist then throwing it into a corner. Her forehead crinkled in confusion so he elaborated with a skeptical tone, "Before I went to Wes' party, I stopped by your office, but you weren't there. I did, however, hear you next door, in Fedr's, laughing it up like crazy – 'working'," he air-quoted with his fingers, the fuse on his covetous nature sparking again. How much time over the past many weeks had she been wasting with this guy? Valuable time that they could have spent together, making and storing more memories. Memories that would help sustain him through the grim hours of spice-running. "You two have really been slaving away, with your noses to the old grindstone, huh?" Han scowled gruffly, shaking his head before stomping off in the opposite direction.
Her feet were cemented in place for a few moments before she charged after him, any further thoughts of apologizing taking a backseat to her indignation. "I resent your smart-aleck, unfounded comments," the princess retorted hotly while following him into the Captain's quarters. "No matter what your cynical mind might invent, Fedr and I have been busting our rears, getting ready to present our findings and I assumed you knew me well enough to realize I wouldn't dare go in front of leadership unprepared," Leia snapped while watching him peel off his sweat-soaked clothing. "Plus, you have no right to get all uppity over me taking a break and talking with a friend; a friend who's struggling right now, trying to adjust to life on a military base."
Solo snorted noisily. "Gee, ain't that a fuckin' shame. What was your buddy expecting when he enlisted, though, a five-star resort?"
Her temples were throbbing from a head of tightly-plaited braids and his cantankerous attitude. "Try to be at least a little empathetic; Fedr hasn't had much time yet to develop any friendships here and he's feeling isolated. He gets lonely," Leia elaborated, observing him cram his dirty clothes into the autovalet with such force she was astonished it didn't break.
"Well then tell him to get a pet. It's not your problem to solve, Sweetheart," Han growled, his exasperation levels skyrocketing. Why did she feel the need to be Fedr's babysitter? Soon he'd be leaving for Tatooine and Leia could spend plenty of time with her pal then, the mere concept causing Solo to almost rip the door off his locker while retrieving a pair of clean boxers.
The princess had seen her husband in dour moods before, but this was one for the record books. There was no reason for him to be envious over pity she felt for an old schoolmate. Something else was going on here besides jealousy. He seemed…different. Darker. Cagey. With a callousness and detached demeanor she hadn't seen since the Death Star, making her press him almost urgently, "Please tell me, Han, what else is bothering you? You've hidden your heart from everyone except me, and I know how loving, how caring you really are…so I can't understand why you're being so unsympathetic to someone in genuine need."
Slamming the locker door shut, Solo turned on her and erupted into a string of Corellian expletives. "Someone in need? - what the hells about my needs? Ya know, your HUSBAND, in case you've forgotten - the guy who loves you and whose son you're carrying. But you've been too busy with more important things - like working tons of hours and worrying about Fedr - in addition to playing his psychologist - to notice. Is it too much to ask for some quality time with you before I have to leave, instead of being treated like a gods-damned afterthought?" Han raged down upon her startled form, reverting into his native tongue a second time before stalking into the shower stall. He was losing control. Correction - he had lost control. He didn't like it…
Jets of hot water buffeted Han's face and hair while his temper slowly receded, leaving him trying to make some sense of all the conflicted thoughts running around in his brain. Dropping his head, he slapped both palms against the clammy tiles and swore again - this time at himself – for the outburst he'd unleashed on his poor wife. Nice job, Slick. Gonna definitely win the husband of the year award for sure now. Even though he felt justified in his frustrations, why didn't he just disengage for a while, or at least take some deep breaths and count to ten? Couples were supposed to share their concerns with each other in a calm, respectful manner, instead of doing what he did - yell at her like some crazed madman, Han sighed, mindlessly beginning to scrub his hair before moving on to his body the plentiful lather unable to wash away layers of remorse over his mishandling of the situation. The image of Leia's expression as he verbally laid into her – innocent eyes blown wide open with tears quickly forming - repeatedly assaulted his conscience. No matter how pissed off he was, he couldn't stand seeing her cry, with this being ten times worse because he'd been the cause of her tears.
Leftover soap bubbles stung at his eyes and he rubbed them before peering through the shower's translucent door to check on Leia. Seated at the small dressing table he'd rigged for her in the room's limited space, she was taking turns between wiping her cheeks and unraveling the last of her lengthy braids, pausing a few times to cradle her belly while whispering soft words. The baby must be moving around a lot. All of my hollering probably upset him, too, he guiltily concluded as she repeated a reassuring caress to her stomach. She was so loving, so giving, so gentle. Unlike him. Squeezing his eyelids shut, Solo stuck his head under the streams of water again with a heavy sigh…
Looking at herself in the mirror, the princess continued her attempt to blink away tears that refused to subside. He's never yelled at me like that before…I can't believe how unhinged he became, Leia sniffled. But she was at fault as well; she'd hurt Han by committing what she'd promised herself to never repeat again - take his love and support for granted. His loud chastisement continued ringing in her ears, including the portions she'd only partially understood because they'd been in his South Continent dialect. Don't you remember our bonding vows we promised each other? - To love, honor, and cherish- forsaking everyone and everything else? Girl, you need to reassess your priorities… Despite her inability to decipher all of his words, the gist of his message had been clear enough.
He was guessing the odds of her willingness to speak to him tonight when he heard the shower door slide open behind him, the brisk swath of cool air making him stand up ramrod straight.
"May I join you?" Leia asked timidly.
Her voice was hesitant and smaller than he'd ever heard before. "Sure, if you want to," Han encouraged over his shoulder, hoping not to say or do anything that would drive her away.
Stepping into the stall's confined space, the princess ached to make amends with her husband, to tell him over and over how sorry she was and how much she loved him. "You're probably still mad at me, but I had to tell you again how sorry I am for hurting you. I…would…would you like me to wash you?" She barely squeaked out, giving herself a few seconds to re-gather her thoughts.
Solo had already scrubbed himself from head to toe, but he wasn't stupid enough to turn down this promising offer. "Yeah, that'd be really nice. I'd like that. A lot," Han swiftly accepted, every nerve in his body triggering when Leia ran her fingertips down his sides before wrapping her arms around his torso and hugging him as close as her rounded stomach would allow.
"Han, there's so much I want to apologize for, and I'm not even sure where I should begin. I'm not very good at this," the princess struggled, covering her hands with bubbles. She massaged his broad back slowly, meticulously, reaching up to circle both muscular shoulders while she found her voice. The combination of soap and water helped her palms glide with ease across his body, her fingers sliding southward to swirl around his hips and rear while words of contrition now flowed freely from her mouth…
He was attentively listening to his wife (she would, on occasion, tease him otherwise), but her touch, no matter how innocent or chaste, consistently stirred the opposite reaction in him. And as her tiny hands snaked between his arms to bathe his chest, then stomach in slow circles, Solo could feel his focus – and any of his remaining self-restraint- evaporating into the steamy air. Did Leia have any realization just how much power her touch wielded over him? He pondered, feeling her brush soft kisses onto the myriads of scars on his back, the tenderness of her action snapping him out of his thoughts. She was saying something about making sure he never felt neglected again when her fingertips inadvertently grazed a portion of his monster erection. "Are you trying to seduce me?" Han questioned after letting out a rather inelegant groan.
His inquiry made the princess pause. Am I? I suppose maybe I am – but just a little bit. Was it wrong to use lovemaking as a means of reconnecting with her spouse? There were issues that required real discussion, but right now she wanted to offer herself to Han completely so he could see and feel her devotion in the most tangible of ways...yearned to have his large hands touching her, owning every inch of her flesh. Resting her cheek against his mid-back, Leia pretended obliviousness to his aroused state as she smirked, "I'm taking my time and being very thorough, aren't I?"
"Very. And you're also toying with me," Han noted through a grunt, his eyes rolling into the back of his head when she began fondling his entire groin area at a torturously slow pace. He longed to turn around and kiss her a hundred times. Needed to bury himself balls-deep inside of her tight little body and possess every inch of her. And then he would have her again. And again.
Not yet, though. Not until he had his say. "Sweetheart – don't -"
"But I'm not finished with you," Leia simpered through another smile while wrapping her fingers around his engorged member, stroking his swollen length from base to tip in the way that she knew he loved…
"You better be…Leia – stop," Solo cautioned huskily, the pressure inside him building to intolerable levels and he feared he would blow his load prematurely, like some teenage boy, before he had a chance to apologize for his boorish behavior. She persisted so he grabbed her hand away before whipping around and finally coming face to face with her, a heavily-breathing and painfully-aroused man who needed to say he was sorry, but his other brain (the one below his waist )was taking over...
His warning came as an unexpected rebuff and the intensity of his stare made her recoil a few steps. "Oh. Okay. I just thought…I'm sorry," the princess stammered, her voice broken and confused, embarrassment quickly heating her cheeks.
Solo was busy doing everything in his power to ignore her gorgeous, naked and wet body mere inches away from his when it suddenly dawned on him – after noticing the hints of rejection clouding her countenance - that she'd misinterpreted his actions. Oh fuck, please don't cry anymore, he thought to himself as tears began to form in those beautiful eyes of hers. Leia was averting her gaze from his and retreating toward the stall's door. "No, no, wait!" he panicked, throwing an arm out to block her exit. Near desperation, he could only think of one other thing to do, and grabbed her face in his hands, crushing his mouth down upon hers…
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Thank you so much for reading ! And a shout of thanks to all the guest reviews and others who I am unable to thank personally. oxo