All the Way – Chapter 10
By Justine Graham and Erin Darroch
You're dreaming, Pal.
That was the only conclusion Han's addled brain could reach to explain why Leia Organa was currently in his lap with her arms around his neck, her soft mouth moving sensuously with his own, in responsive, hypnotic, erotic communion. As if in validation of his dazed deduction, she made a throaty sound of pleasure that seemed to come straight out of his fantasies, and then she deepened their kiss and pressed her body even closer. The delicious friction between them and the delicate sweep of her teasing tongue ignited a circuit of pure sensation that awakened every nerve-ending in Han's body and sent most of his blood surging swiftly south. When she left his mouth and began tracing breathless kisses along the line of his jaw, what was left of his brain matter-of-factly confirmed that there was no way any of this was actually happening. It was too damn good to be true. When she dipped down to nuzzle his neck, he experienced a wave of surreality so strong it made his eyes fly wide and he drew a gasping breath as he clutched her even closer.
Leia's lips broke contact with his skin and she leaned back so she could see his face. "You okay, Flyboy?"
There was a playful smile dancing in her eyes and a sparkle of amusement in her tone, but Han was glad to see that she looked every bit as affected as he felt. He was breathing hard, but she was likewise flushed and lightly panting, and her coronet of braids was somewhat the worse for wear, having been loosened and frazzled by his eager hands.
By way of response to her query, he took her by the back of the head and drew her mouth back to his, greedily devouring her lips again as if for the first time. He could not seem to get enough, even though by his woolly reckoning they'd been kissing like a couple of love-starved fiends for the better part of...how long had it been, exactly? He had no idea.
The ambient whirs and clicks of the cockpit had long since faded away, muted by the low thrum of desire coursing through his veins and the pounding rhythm of his own heart. It wasn't difficult to tell how much their closeness was affecting Leia, as well. He could feel the heat of her through the thermal fabric of her snowsuit, and even in the dim light he had seen the rosy flush that tinted her cheeks. When they finally parted for another breath, her head lolled back and he dropped his lips to the offered curve of her throat, peppering the warm skin there with delicate kisses. He was rewarded with her small shudder of pleasure and another low moan. The gratifying sound finally made him tear himself away, and he rested his hazy gaze on her with a wicked half-smile. "I thought being held by me wasn't enough to get you excited, Princess."
"Who says I'm excited?" she retorted, lifting her head and giving him a flash of her old defiance before curling inward and burying her face in his neck to smother a laugh.
He chuckled with her and held her close, relishing the return of their flirtatious banter almost as much as the warm rush of her breath against his heated skin.
"To be fair," she said, nuzzling and muttering against the skin of his neck, "you're doing a bit more than 'holding' me...and anyway, something tells me it works both ways." She lifted her head and then kissed him again, long and deep, as she raked the fingers of one hand through his hair. She moved in his lap—a sly and purposeful shifting of her slight weight against him that tore a rough groan from his throat.
She broke away with a light laugh, then dipped her head down to whisper in his ear. "What was that, Captain? Did you say something?" She drew back enough to level a mirthful gaze at him, her eyes twinkling. "Is being kissed by me enough to get you ex—."
He cut her off with another kiss. Gods, it was sweet torture, an exquisite agony he never wanted to end. She knew what she was doing to him—the lack of any space between their bodies left no room for doubt. But he reckoned two could play at that game. He pulled back enough to give her a querying look and then shifted his own hips slightly for better contact, grinning as her eyes widened and her mouth fell open on a soft gasp.
"What do you think?" he asked.
The flush in her cheeks intensified. She lowered her eyes for a moment and bit her lip against a smile. For a flicker of a second, she looked uncharacteristically shy and incredibly vulnerable, and Han's heart gave a tender lurch. She recovered swiftly though. Straightening in his lap, she laid a warm palm against one cheek and leaned in to softly kiss the other before subsiding with a thoughtful look.
"I think..." she said, drawing the word out, "that we haven't got time for anything else." The gaze she gave him now was tinged with sincere regret. "There's still so much work to be done and this isn't exactly getting us there."
Han gaped at her in dismay.
Work? Did she just say...work?
Before he could fully process the abrupt change in direction, she was already shifting back and away, and she'd left his lap and regained her feet before he could summon a coherent response. She stood facing him in the gap between the seats, still flushed and lovely, but looking far more self-composed than Han felt. He watched as she reached up and tidied her braids by touch, neatly tucking stray tendrils back into place as she eyed him with sympathetic amusement.
"I need you to give me a hand with those valves, remember?"
Valves? Han blinked. He wanted to sweep her up into his arms this instant, carry her to the bunkroom and then strip them both out of their layers of hot clothing—and she wanted to strip valves?
Leia smoothed and straightened her garments as he watched her in a daze. "Come on, Captain. You know I'm right. And the sooner we get it done, the sooner we can get back to…" she trailed off, dropped her eyes to his lap and then looked up at him with an affectionate smirk, "...trying to excite each other."
Han dropped his head back against the chair and released a suffering groan. Trying? There was no further 'trying' required, and she knew it.
Leia gave a soft laugh in response, but waited patiently for him to regain his composure.
Feeling the high rhythm of his heart beginning to slow, he swiped a hand over his face and gave a rueful chuckle of his own as he let his head loll for a moment longer against the seat cushion. She was right. Of course she was right. They had completed all of the most critical repairs, but there were still important tasks to be carried out before they could truly relax, and now was not the time to lose focus. And anyway, he reflected with a glance over at the chrono, it was only just past mid-afternoon by the ship's circadian cycle, with hours still to go before bedtime. Even though he felt sure now about where things with Leia were heading—the last few minutes had made that abundantly clear—he knew her well enough to know she would not want to draw undue attention to their activities by disappearing in the middle of the day. And she definitely would never shirk what she saw as her responsibility in favour of personal pleasure. With an inward smirk, he decided he would have to work on persuading her to abandon that particular principle. He lifted his head and released a heavy sigh.
"Valves. Sure, sure. Okay, right…."
"I'll help you," she offered. "We can work...together."
There was something about the way she said the word together that made Han's heart catch in his chest. In her voice there was an echo of the solemn promise they'd made to one another just a short while ago. From this day forward, they were beyond pretense, committed to meeting every challenge as a devoted team—no more hiding behind ridiculous denials, no more dodging the truth through stupid self-defensive games. But there was a hint of something else in those dulcet tones, a promise of a carnal sort that sparked another rush of anticipatory energy through Han's body. Pushing himself up to his feet, he closed the slender gap between them and gazed down into her upturned face in naked adoration.
"You really think we're gonna get any work done?" he asked.
"Maybe," she laughed. Easing closer still, she brought her body so near he could feel the heat emanating from her skin. His own body surged in response, and it took every speck of self-control he possessed to resist throwing her over his shoulder and carting her off to his bunk.
Leia's smile widened and a suggestive sparkle danced in her deep-brown eyes. "I think we'll have fun trying."
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Han thumbed off the power to the macrosander, and then set the bulky tool atop one of the battered plasteel crates adjacent to the sublight outlets. He pulled his magnifying goggles away from his face and, tossing them beside the sander, stepped back to scrutinize his handiwork. It had taken far longer than he'd hoped and the starboard valve still wasn't exactly pristine. It was a damn sight better than it had been, though, and he felt confident that it would get them through until they had access to more specialized equipment on Bespin.
He snagged the flask of water he'd brought with him from the galley. Flipping it open, he took a drink and swished it around his mouth before swallowing, and then took a longer one and finished with a sigh of relief. The air in the access bay was intolerably warm and sultry from the generated heat of the laser-powered sander, and it didn't help that the zone's circulating fans were still out of commission. Beads of perspiration trickled down from his hairline, and he swiped them away with a forearm across his brow before letting his gaze drift down to the deck, where Leia's snowsuited legs were peeking out from the crawlspace that housed the ventilation circuits on the opposite side of the narrow bay.
"How you doing in there?" he called.
Leia's response filtered through the small opening. Though muffled by the thick durasteel walls that surrounded her, it sounded very much to Han like a ripe Corellian curse.
He chuckled. "I guess that answers that question."
Knees bent and her back to the deck plates, Leia walked her feet forward and slowly slid her body out of the narrow conduit. When she cleared the edge of the opening, she expelled a heavy breath and collapsed in dramatic fashion, arms and legs splayed against the metal plates.
"And I thought it was hot out here," she gasped.
"Yeah. Never thought you'd miss Hoth's climate, did you?" Han replied. "Need a break?"
Leia propped herself up on one bent elbow and expelled another heavy breath. "Soon. The main board is almost there. One or two more connections should do it. I'll need the microfuser to finish, though."
Han nodded. "Hold on, I'll grab it for you." He retrieved the slender device from the tool chest that sat open against the bulkhead. "Good to go?" he asked as he handed it over.
"Good to go," she confirmed and gave him a thumbs-up before disappearing back into the service chute.
Han crossed his arms over his chest and leaned a shoulder against the bulkhead as he listened to the crackling sound of the fuser and Leia's strained grunts of effort. She really was something special, he mused, for perhaps the thousandth time since the day they'd met. A truly exceptional person, and not just because she was so hands-on with his ship. She displayed an incredible willingness to pitch in, no matter what the circumstances; to take on challenges and strive with others towards common goals, readily and without complaint, even when faced with something entirely new or deeply intimidating. Reflecting on her dauntless tenacity, he found his thoughts drifting once more to their overarching dispute over what to do about the Hutt, and how he might somehow manage to balance her determination to be involved with his own need to keep her out of harm's way.
The seed of an idea had formed in his mind as he'd been working on the valves. Now seemed as good a time as any to see if it would fall on fertile ground.
"Hey, Sweetheart," he said. "I've been thinking."
He heard her low hum of acknowledgement, though muffled by the sizzle and pop of the fuser. He took a deep breath and continued. "About how to handle Jabba."
The fuser shut off with a low click, and a beat of silence followed. "Go on." Her reply filtered out to him at length, and then he heard the sound of the fuser sparking back to life with a muted hiss.
"The guy I met on Ord Mantell—Saltanos, the one who told me about the higher bounty? We go back a long way. He's an okay guy. And he did me a big favour with that heads-up. He's not on Jabba's payroll, but he had some contact with the slimy bastard not too long ago and thinks he could maybe get me to Jabba intact."
"Intact?" Leia's voice hit a high pitch and the fuser switched off again.
Han sighed. "Yeah, seventy-five thousand credits dead is more than enough motivation for most folks. Trying to bring me in alive isn't necessarily worth the extra quarter." Grimly, he reflected on the truth of that statement, so recently proven to the two poor saps who had tried to take him into custody on Ord Mantell—although it had been Leia who had nullified those threats, not Han. Recollection of that deadly encounter filled him with a confusing mixture of beaming pride in her audacity and quick thinking, and guttural horror that she had ever been put in that position in the first place.
"Anyway," he continued loudly, drowning out his own thoughts, "my first goal is to get myself in front of Jabba with the credits in my hand, and then I can negotiate."
Leia's booted feet moved restlessly. "What do you mean, negotiate? If you give him the money, that's the end of it, surely?" He heard her engaging the fuser once more as she resumed her task.
Han grimaced to himself. He sure wished that were the case, but he knew Jabba too well to dwell in such naive hopes. "It's not really about the money anymore, Sweetheart. Why do you think that price is so high? You heard those bounty hunters. He wants me alive, if possible. He doesn't actually need what I owe, it's barely a drop in the bucket for a crook like him." He shook his head, knowing full well that Leia couldn't see him. "I know what he's like, and it's a matter of pride now."
He heard the fuser power off again and then the clink and clatter of the protective inner membranes being replaced over the hidden boards. A moment later, Leia emerged from the chute once more, on her back and looking even more flushed and frazzled than before. Frowning up at him, she drew her knees up and planted her boots on the deck plates.
"And if he kills you on sight?" she demanded.
Extending a hand, Han helped her to her feet and then handed over the flask of water. "He won't."
Leia thumbed the lid of the flask open, but all of her attention was on Han's face. "How can you be sure of that?"
"I told you. I know him."
She rolled her eyes and then tipped the flask to her lips and drank deeply, while Han drank in the sight of her—her white snowsuit, liberally smeared with smudges of carbon and grease; her face pink and shiny with perspiration; and her corona of braids, recently straightened from their amorous tusslings in the cockpit, once again in disarray. He couldn't help but smile.
"So," she said, after the first swallow, "If it's not your money, what does he want from you?"
He gave a one-shouldered shrug. "To teach me a lesson, make an example out of me. I don't know...grind my nose in it a little? Anyway, there's always a chance, if I catch him in a good mood, that he'll be satisfied with nothing more than a little public humiliation. And the money, too, of course."
Leia froze with the flask halfway back to her lips, her eyes going wide. "Public humiliation?"
"Yeah, I'm sure he'd like to slap a collar around my neck and make me dance half-naked for his court while they laugh."
Leia gaped at him and she dropped her arm to her side, letting the flask dangle from her fingers. "I'm sorry, what?"
Han winced. For all her experience as a young princess on the galactic stage, as a politician in the Senate and even as a Rebel spy—and even with her own tragic first-hand knowledge of some sentients' capacity for true evil—he sometimes wondered if she fully grasped how puerile and pathetic some beings could be, how debauched and vile and utterly spiteful were some low denizens of the galaxy. He hoped she didn't understand it on that granular level. He hoped she never would, either. But Han knew it—and knew all too well that the Hutt was capable of unspeakable things, even with those he considered culpable of lesser offences than his own.
"Yeah, that's one of his favourite punishments," he said, waving a hand to dismiss the issue. "A minor penalty for pissing him off."
"Minor!" Leia exclaimed. "That doesn't sound at all 'minor' to me. And no matter what you think, he could surprise you and kill you on sight, or…." She gestured wildly with her free hand. "Or anything. What if he doesn't like the way you dance?"
Han feigned indignation. "What? Aw, c'mon, Princess. Who wouldn't enjoy watching me make my sexy dance moves?"
Leia bit the inside of her cheek. "I can't say I've had the pleasure," she returned, striving to keep her tone dry. She kept her face completely straight, but he could see the smile in her eyes and realised that the mental imagery he'd conjured had the power to amuse and divert her, so he ran with it.
"I could give you a sneak peek right now if you w—"
"Stop," she warned, laughing despite herself as he raised his arms and gave a little shimmy of his hips. "You're not going to distract me with that." She took another slug of water from the flask and then turned to set it atop a nearby storage crate.
It struck Han then: the magnitude of the shift that had taken place between them in the wake of their mutual revelations. Every prior attempt at discussion of his debt to Jabba and how he was going to deal with it had quickly escalated to shouting and storming—or worse: glaring and scowling, followed by brittle silence—but there was none of that now. No tension, no flash of ire in Leia's dark eyes as she turned back to face him, no churn of trepidation in his gut.
Despite the fact that the issue was still far from resolved, he had to admit it felt pretty damn good to talk to her about it. Deep down, he knew she was right: he needed to stop acting like he was entirely on his own in the galaxy, with no one to rely on but himself. As disconcerting as it was to acknowledge it, the truth was he did have devoted friends and allies at his back—and, even more astonishingly, Leia Organaat his side. That supremely happy thought refocused his attention.
"Fine," he said. "You want to help, Chewie wants to help, Luke wants to help. That's great. If Sal can get me to Jabba alive, we can figure out a plan that'll let you all work together to get me out, just in case I run into any...uh, resistance on that score. You can be my backup team."
Leia did not seem at all impressed. "That's a terrible plan. How do you know this Saltanos fellow isn't just manipulating you to get you to cooperate in your own capture, so he can claim the reward for himself?"
"Well, yeah, that's the general idea," he said. He cracked a wry smile at her reaction. "Look, somebody has to take me in. If I try to stroll in on my own, I'm a dead man. Anywhere Jabba holds court will be crawling with killers, you can count on that. And any one of them would be delighted to take me out the minute I show my face. But even bounty hunters have a code and if I'm clearly already in custody on arrival, no one will touch me. Plus, Jabba knows Sal. They've done business in the past, so he'll be able to get an audience, no problem. And at least if it's Sal taking me in, I know he's not going to put a blaster hole in me first, just to make things easier on himself."
"So, you trust him?"
Han skewed his lips to one side. "Well...let's just say we have some history. We've saved each other's lives a couple of times, and he owes me. Plus, if he was gonna pop a bolt in me for the money, he could have done it on Ord Mantell before I even knew what was happening. He didn't have to give me the heads-up about the hike in the bounty, either. He's a scoundrel, like me, but he's an all right kinda guy." He gave her a wink.
Leia frowned.
Han grimaced. "Anyway, I'd rather he was the one who gets the money, instead of anybody else who might be gunning for me. And since it's him, I can get away with stashing a holdout blaster or a vibroblade in my boot, in case things don't go exactly according to plan."
"Of course things will not go exactly according to plan," Leia said dryly. "They never do. And even if Chewie and Luke and I are waiting nearby to extract you, you could be dead before we could even get inside."
"Like I said, I'm sure the old slug won't kill me on sight—"
"How sure?"
"What, you want a number on it? Okay. Ummm...eight-five percent sure."
Leia rolled her eyes at him again. "That means you're forty-five percent sure, at best."
She tried to give him a withering look as she arched her back and rolled her shoulders, but the attempt was fettered by her sudden wince of pain. With a sigh, she laced her fingers together, extended both arms high above her head and arched slowly over to one side and then to the other, releasing small groans as she stretched her sore muscles. By force of habit, Han restrained the impulse to reach out and touch her, perhaps to offer some relief with a brief massage. Then his brain kicked in with a gleeful reminder that such a gesture probably wouldn't be unwelcome now. A happy grin began to emerge on his face, but before he could act on the realisation Leia lowered her arms and began popping loose the fastenings down the central placket of her snowsuit. He stood stock-still and watched with rapt attention as she shrugged out of the upper half of the padded suit and let it drop to her waist, then toed off each of her boots, before shoving the rumpled garment down over her hips and letting it fall to the floor.
Beneath the snowsuit, her petite curves were snugly wrapped in a thin layer of fabric—the Kashyyyki-silk tank and her thermal tights, neither of which left much to the imagination. He had admired her trim figure before, of course, many times, but never with the license to let his gaze linger. And linger it did, unabashedly roving over her newly revealed form with deep appreciation. Her body was perfect, to his eyes, from the graceful lines of her neck and shoulders, her toned arms and the firm swell of her breasts, down to the shapely curves of her waist, hips and thighs. He quirked a smile at her dainty little feet, presently clad in a pair of his own socks, then ran his eyes over all of her again. He knew he was ogling her outright, but he couldn't seem to tear his gaze away, as his mind filled with visions of further revelations to come.
Leia kicked the crumpled snowsuit aside, met his eyes once more, and visibly stifled a laugh. Plucking the front of her silken top away from her flushed skin, she fanned herself with the thin fabric a few times, offering tantalising glimpses of the heated skin and lush curves beneath.
"You were saying, Flyboy?" she smirked.
"Huh? What?"
"Jabba?" she prompted. Bending down, she retrieved her boots and began pulling them on. "You said you were about twenty-five percent sure he wouldn't kill you on sight."
Han narrowed his eyes. "Wait. It was forty-five percent a second ago."
"Just checking you're still with me," she quipped, straightening up and shifting from foot to foot to settle into her boots. She fanned herself with both hands and frowned. "I don't get it. That circuit's intact now. Not sure why the fans haven't re-engaged."
With some effort, Han shook off the lingering erotic visions that crowded his mind and focused his attention once again on the task at hand. "Blast probably overloaded the main relay," he surmised. "Guess we need to do a reset." He cast a glance above his head and grimaced. The seldom-used panel was in a recessed niche set high up near the top of the bulkhead, well beyond his reach. "We could go find Chewie or…." He glanced around the sparse interior of the bay and, deciding on the taller of the plasteel crates nearest the sublight outlets as his best option, gestured to it with a jerk of his chin. "You could help me drag that crate over. It's a heavy one."
Leia made a face. "It's too hot in here. Just boost me up and give me a minute. The sooner we get those fans back online, the better."
Seeing the sense in that, Han leaned in and readily made a stirrup of his hands, then braced himself as Leia placed a booted foot into the pocket formed by his laced-together fingers. Resting one hand on his shoulder for balance, she used the improvised step to mount up, just as Han straightened to his full height to bring her other outstretched hand within reach of the console. It was the work of only a few moments for her to pop open the panel and reset the relay, but the fleeting interlude was immediately imprinted on Han's brain for all eternity. As she stretched up with all of her weight on one foot, her slim body swayed tantalizingly close—so close he could have landed a kiss on her silk-clad ribs—and then she shifted a little and leaned fully against him as she strained to get her fingers on the switch.
Context was everything to Han in that moment, because it wasn't anything out of the ordinary for them to work together in close quarters. She'd travelled with him many times and lent a hand with myriad tasks aboard the ship, often making the most of her smaller size to access places that he and Chewie found awkward to reach. They had a history of working efficiently together with a light and easy camaraderie, but their interactions had always been charged with an air of necessary distance—a subtle awareness of personal space and attention to lines that neither of them dared to cross.
But now, toiling away in immediate proximity and barely an hour after they'd confessed their true feelings for each other, it was clear that the change in their dynamic extended in more than one dimension. With their unconscious hesitancy peeled away, Han could feel a change in the way Leia moved. She no longer strove for decorum—if anything, the opposite was true. She wasn't flustered or faltering in a rush to extricate herself from his grasp. In fact, she was leaning into him, allowing herself to linger as though she relished the contact; indeed, she seemed in no hurry to have it come to an end.
That perception was reinforced a moment later when she finished the task. Lowering her other hand to his shoulder, she glanced down to meet his gaze with an inviting smile. Shifting her weight against him, she rested her forearms on his shoulders to support herself, allowing him to release her foot and wrap his arms around her body. She slid down the length of him in a slow and tantalizing glide, a deliberate press of her scantily clad form that made his breath catch and confirmed all of his suspicions about what she was going to be like when they finallyhad the chance to truly be together. If the past couple of hours were any indication, she was going to drive him out of his mind.
Her booted feet connected with the deck plates at the terminus of her enticing journey, but she kept her arms linked around his neck and there was a playful cant to her upturned chin. "There," she said. "All done. Give it a few minutes and things should be a little less...steamy."
Han almost laughed out loud. He could see by the mirthful sparkle in her eyes that she knew full well the effect she had on him, especially in her current state, half undressed, and alluringly flushed and frazzled—a look that made his imagination once again leap ahead to more intimate scenarios to come.
Leia unfurled her arms from around his neck and took a half-step back, putting a small measure of distance between them—enough to allow Han to pull together the threads of his fraying composure.
"That's, uh, that's a good thing," he managed. "I'm still gonna need a shower though." A cold one, he added to himself.
"So will I," Leia replied. "I'm actually sweating."
Tipping her chin back, she passed a hand down the length of her throat and let her fingers trail down to her breastbone, highlighting the faint sheen of perspiration that was visible on her smooth skin. If Han harboured any doubts as to her intentions with that move, they were erased an instant later when she trailed a seductive fingertip over the bare upper swell of one breast, tracing the skin at the silken edge of her snug tank top with a light touch. As she dropped her arm to her side, she levelled her gaze at him and gave a suggestive lift of one eyebrow, instantly provoking a fresh wave of mental images so powerfully erotic he had to squeeze his eyes shut and bite the inside of his cheek to get them to stop. Hearing Leia's soft snicker, he opened his eyes again and found her beaming at him with a self-satisfied smile.
"What's the matter, Hotshot?" she asked, planting a fist on one cocked hip. "Chikarri got your tongue?"
"Gimme a break, Princess. I'm still tryin' to catch up here."
"Need me to slow down for you?"
"Never," he replied. He closed the distance between them, intending to grab her and pull her to him for a kiss, but she blithely retreated, skipping back and giving a soft laugh as she subsided just out of his reach. He raised a querying eyebrow and took a short step forward, and wasn't at all surprised when she cast him a look of flirtatious challenge and made another equivalent move backwards. Han's heart gave a thump against his ribs; Leia in a playfully provocative mood was the stuff of his dreams.
He gave her a smirking nod of acknowledgement as she squared off with him from across the narrow access bay, leaning slightly forward with her hands resting lightly on her thighs, as though bracing to bolt. He weighed his options, calculating his next move. There was a half-metre of space between her and the bulkhead to her back, maybe less—if he was quick enough, he just might make it. He feigned a move to his right, and then angled forward in a darting lunge, hoping to catch her off guard. But Leia was small and quick, and she evaded him smoothly, dipping low and then swiftly side-stepping out of his reach, before whirling around to face him and continuing to back away.
"You're sure you don't want me to slow down?" she teased as she backpedalled to the far end of the access bay.
He narrowed his eyes and stalked forward, keeping his gaze locked on her, tracking and mirroring her light-footed movements to keep her from slipping past him again. Matching her step-for-step, he edged her toward the rear bulkhead, until her final backward motion brought her in contact with one of the metre-high storage crates adjacent to the sublight housing. He could see that she wasn't really trying to get away, but he closed the remaining gap in a single long stride anyway, preserving the illusion of a triumphant capture. Standing toe to toe with her, he leaned one hand on the bulkhead behind her and the other on his hip, and gave her a self-satisfied grin.
"I win," he said.
Her dark eyes flashed. "Do you, now?" Planting the heels of her hands behind her on the rim of the plasteel crate, she boosted herself up and backwards to sit on the edge, leaving her legs dangling, and bringing her eyes roughly level with Han's own. "Seems to me, you fell into my trap," she countered. She probed the inside of her cheek with her tongue and waggled her eyebrows, looking smug.
Han's answering laugh could not be contained. "Oh, so you've got me right where you want me, huh?"
She let her eyes roam around the bay and pursed her lips, considering. "Hmm...not quite," she said. Looking back at him, she opened her arms wide and parted her knees.
Han needed no further invitation. Moving into the space she'd created, he took her face in his hands and captured her mouth with his own. The kiss he gave her was hungry and deep, as though it had been days or weeks since their last encounter, instead of little more than an hour. Leia met his enthusiasm with eager heat of her own, hooking a finger into his belt to haul him closer, as she clutched at the front of his shirt with her other hand and gave her mouth up to be devoured. In the growing catalogue of kisses they'd shared so far, this one was by far the most incendiary and Han's own body temperature seemed to spike to match it. Despite the heat in the bay, Leia couldn't seem to get close enough to him. With her bottom balanced on the edge of the crate, she wrapped her lower limbs around his hips and wound her arms around his neck, as their mouths moved together in passionate communion. It was the sweetest snare Han could have imagined, the most tender trap he'd ever willingly walked into, and he could hardly believe it was happening.
Feeling grateful for the ease of access provided by her elevated position atop the crate, he sent his hands drifting lightly over her silk-wrapped curves, revelling in the low shudders of pleasure he could feel rippling through her in response. Every pass of his palm or stroke of his thumb told him something new about her body, and some remote part of his mind was busily taking notes, mentally cataloguing her every reaction for future reference. To his delight, she angled her upper half even closer as he explored, pressing into his wandering hands at the same time as she murmured breathless words of encouragement. He offered up silent thanks to the galaxy for the incredible turn of his fortunes. To have won the heart of this remarkable woman, to have secured her solemn pledge of love, loyalty and support—and to be so evidently and fiercely desired by her—was an outcome beyond his wildest imagination.
She whispered sweet words again to him now, gasped them against his lips as his fingers found and then lifted the lower edge of her tank top. He craved the experience of her bare skin and his whole body surged hard when he touched her, a primitive response to the smooth, firm feel of her under his fingertips. Taking her cue from him, Leia drew her arms down and then dipped both hands beneath the rumpled hem of his quasicotton shirt, allowing her hands to roam with abandon over his own heated flesh. The first touch of her seeking fingers on his torso sent a wave of almost convulsive shivers through Han's frame. He'd never experienced anything like it, but he didn't resist—indeed, he couldn't have resisted if he'd tried. The onslaught of mingled sensation and emotion was overwhelming, deeply pleasurable in a way he'd never even imagined it could be. This was Leia—Leia!—kissing him so passionately and exploring his body with eager hands, and he suddenly wondered why the hell he had ever wanted anything other than this, with her, forever. They kissed deeply, ravenously, drawing oxygen in short gasps and then locking together again, tongues teasing and stroking in erotic promise of greater intimacies to come.
Distantly, Han heard a familiar muted thunk, as the circulating fans came back online with a whoosh of sound and a welcome rush of cool air. Panting heavily, they broke apart and Han pulled back just far enough to get a good look at her, feeling deeply gratified by what he saw. Her lips were softly parted, her dark lashes fluttering against the rosy pink of her cheeks and, with his palms splayed over her heated skin under her shirt, he could feel the high rhythm of her heart against her ribs. Her darkened eyes focused on his with ardent intent and a wave of wordless understanding passed between them, tacit acknowledgement of where their shared passion was going to take them. The power of that mutual awareness drew them inexorably back together, and then their mouths met once again in sweet, searing fusion that erased all conscious thought from Han's brain.
As they kissed, his wandering hands found and traced her ribs where the snug band of her bra met the warm skin beneath. Daring further liberties, he grazed exploratory thumbs along the underside of her breasts, caressing her there for the first time, and her response was everything he could have hoped for. She broke their kiss on a gasp and clutched at him, the hard press of her fingertips and the eager straining of her body stoking the fire of need that burned hot in his veins. He ached to be even closer. Acting on a wave of impulse, he slipped both hands down to the small of her back and pulled her right to the edge of the crate, firmly against his hips. Leia made a choked sound and jerked her head back in involuntary reflex, her mouth falling open and her eyes flying wide, the very picture of surprise. Han froze for an instant, his breath coming in short gasps as he warily searched her face and hoped like hell he hadn't pushed her farther and faster than she was prepared to venture. She stared at him for a moment and then threw her head back and laughed.
Han exhaled sharply and broke into a grin, relieved that he hadn't made a misstep. Chuckling along with her, he took advantage of the opportunity to dip down and adorn her exposed throat with a chain of delicate kisses, keenly aware of the heat of her core pressed intimately against his own burning body, of her thighs clamped snugly around his hips. Even more affecting was the feel of her heartbeat, so eager and strong and so close to his own. He could feel it pulsing under her skin everywhere his lips landed, as he kissed his way down her throat.
He fought a brief but fierce battle with himself over the desire to continue his descent, to let his mouth travel down over her collar bone and lower still, to brush his lips against the plump upper swell of her breast. He knew something of Leia's romantic and sexual history, such as it was. He'd gathered enough information over the past couple of years, through occasional revelatory conversations and a few awkward predicaments on shared missions, to surmise the truth—and the last thing he wanted to do now was rush things. The evening ahead promised to be their first deeply intimate experience together. He figured it was going to be amazing for him, no matter what, because it was Leia, but he fervently hoped it would be amazing for her, too. Indeed, he fully intended to make sure of it. To that end, he finally exerted some effort of will to lift his head and pull away from her, just enough to give her space to sit up.
She moved with him, though, clinging to his shoulders as she returned to an upright position, still breathless with laughter, and clearly exhilarated by their activities. He grinned back at her, happy to see that she could laugh at her own startled reaction and yet remain wholly committed to their intimate embrace. Although the air in the bay was noticeably cooler now, he noted the deep pink of her cheeks and the light sheen of perspiration on her smooth skin—but it was the sultry gleam in her dark eyes that confirmed beyond a doubt that she was burning with heat of a different kind. It made his heart skip to see it. In the midst of his silent assessment, Leia tugged him closer, threading her fingers through his hair. Leaning in, she nipped and nuzzled her way along the line of his jaw to his ear, grazing the lobe lightly with her teeth before pausing with a whisper.
"Now you are right where I want you."
For emphasis, she tightened her thighs around his hips and, for a fraction of a second, Han felt as though his brain had gone offline. It kicked in again on a jolt of electric sensation, and a bark of surprised laughter escaped him as he pulled back to stare at her. Evidently delighted with her own ribald teasing, Leia collapsed in snickers against his chest and then they chuckled together again for a long moment, clinging to one another in shared mirth, as Han exulted once more over the changes that had taken place between them. This was a side of Leia he'd never seen before, and it was blowing his mind. The sure knowledge that she trusted him, not just with her heart, but with her entire being, enough to let herself be playful and sexy and completely at ease in his arms, was a priceless gift. He couldn't even begin to calculate its worth. Fleetingly, he recalled the moment when she'd tacitly asked for his full trust in return, for the privilege of knowing everything there was to know about him, no holding back. She wanted something from him she had never before asked of another, something he had never given to anyone else, and he was amazed all over again to affirm that he was wholeheartedly ready to grant that wish.
As their shared laughter subsided, he dipped down to capture her lips once more in a soft and sensual kiss, this time no longer resisting the urge to move his hips against her, employing a slow, intimate roll that left them both groaning and panting for breath. And fuck, but the way she moved with him was divine. As if attuned to him already, she matched his subtle movements with an undulating rhythm of her own that soon made his vision go dark and his thoughts grow hazy. It was enough to make him weak in the knees, and he found himself adjusting his stance to keep himself upright. As he faltered to get a grip on the edge of the crate, he heard the distinctive clank of metal deck plates behind him, abruptly drawing his attention away from the princess. He shot a glance over his shoulder just in time to see a flash of russet fur disappearing beyond the edge of the hatchway.
"What is it? Was that Chewie?" Leia gasped as Han pulled away from her. "Oh goddess, did he see us?"
With a wincing half-smile, Han nodded affirmation and was not surprised to see the princess sit bolt upright and begin hastily composing herself. He took a step back to give her room and watched as she ran her hands rapidly over her body, pulling down the crumpled hem of her tank and then reaching up to tuck stray locks of hair back into place. He was grateful to see that she was still laughing under her breath, her face alight with amusement—a little self-conscious, he noted, but not utterly mortified. He grinned at her and then took a moment to assess his own half-wrecked condition. He adjusted his rumpled clothing and combed his fingers through his hair, feeling mildly envious that Leia could look so cool and calm, so quickly.
"You all right?" he asked.
Leia bit her cheek to keep a straight face. "I'm fine, but you might need to spend a few minutes fantasizing about making out with Jabba."
Han snorted a rueful laugh in agreement. His body was in a profound state of arousal that was not so easily concealed, the heavy throb in his groin reminding him all too acutely that he was going to need that cold shower soon. But first he was going to have to let things settle down enough to be seen in polite company. He turned his attention to retrieving the nearby macrosander and assorted accessories and packing them back into their plasteel cases, counting on the mundane activity to force a redirection of his bodily energies.
As he finished that brief task and swiped away the last traces of perspiration from his brow, he heard the heavy clink and clatter of approaching footfalls on the deck plates once more. Chewbacca was evidently moving back in their direction again, but this time with a purposefully loud, unhurried stride, accompanied by a low growl of warning that he attempted to disguise as innocent enquiry.
[*Cub? Little Princess? Are you there?*]
Han cast a glance over at Leia. She looked perfectly serene and composed now, apart from a pink flush in her cheeks that could easily be attributed to ordinary exertion. They exchanged smirks and then Leia hopped off the edge of the crate and began to gather up the discarded tools scattered around the bay.
The Wookiee's shaggy head popped around the frame of the hatch, his eyes landing first on Han. He gave his friend a nod, and then slanted a glance over at the princess.
[*There you are,*] he intoned, obviously striving to sound surprised. [*I thought I might find you working in here.*]
Han bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. Chewie had likely seen more than he'd bargained for as he'd approached the bay a moment ago, but Han had to chuckle at his friend's chivalrous attempt to preserve their modesty. If the Wookiee was uncomfortable at having caught his friends in such an intimate embrace, he certainly didn't let on. In fact, as he angled his gaze back to Han, it was apparent that the big sap was enormously pleased by the turn of events. He gave Han a conspiratorial wink.
[*I am glad to see that you are finishing up for the day. I have finished realigning the dampeners, so I stopped in to tell you that I am on my way to prepare the evening meal.*]
Leia offered him a warm smile as she crossed to the opposite side of the bay with an armload of tools. "Food sounds great," she said, as she deposited the devices into the open chest. "I'm starved."
The Wookiee's blue gaze flicked back and forth between them, the corner of his broad simian muzzle twitching as though he were trying mightily to contain a grin. [*I anticipated as much. I suppose you two have worked up quite the appetite.*] He lost the battle to keep a straight face, peeling his lips back and giving them a bright, toothy smile that spread all the way to the corners of his azure eyes.
Leia shot Han a wide-eyed look that made him wince, but she recovered quickly and, as she turned away to seal the lid of the tool chest, he was relieved to see that her shoulders were shaking with quiet laughter.
Although he knew that his friend meant no harm, Han thought it best to silence any further attempts at teasing humour with a warning glare. "Thanks, Chewie. Give us some time to finish up here and get cleaned up, and we'll be along."
Leia gave the tool chest a shove, locking it into place against its magnetic bracket on the bulkhead. She swiped her palms across her thermal tights, and then returned to stand at Han's side. "Thank you," she said to Chewbacca. "I can't wait."
The Wookiee gave a nod of acknowledgement, and then turned on his heel and ambled back toward the hatch, pausing with a wry snort before he dipped his head low to clear the frame. [*Cub seems to be in high spirits, Little Princess,*] he said over his shoulder. [*Perhaps now is the time to talk some sense into him about his plans to confront the Hutt.*]
Han rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, keep walkin', pal. We're working things out."
The Wookiee manoeuvred his considerable bulk through the hatch and left the bay, but the rumbling echo of his laughter lingered down the corridor as he disappeared from view.
Han turned back to face Leia, caught the look she was giving him, and gave an inward groan. He knew that look. She was already back in problem-solving mode, shifting smoothly back to their earlier topic of conversation as if the past few minutes had never happened. The playful, sexy interlude had been thoroughly enjoyable and Han's body still hadn't quite subsided, although the return of his thoughts to the Jabba problem certainly helped in that regard. He had a feeling that this was going to be the story of his life with Leia—she had a capacity for multi-track thinking and lightning-quick transitions that always kept him on his toes.
"So if your 'percentages' are right," she said, picking up right where they'd left off, "and Jabba doesn't kill you on sight, then what? You mentioned negotiations. What would you negotiate for?"
Han leaned down to retrieve a forgotten hydrospanner from the deck plates and then straightened with a sigh. "Well, I'm not much of a dancer, so my guess is that he'll compel me to work for him again, for free. I can do runs nobody else can, and he knows it."
As he crossed the bay to restore the spanner to its storage, he realised that his declaration probably sounded arrogantly boastful—but it was a simple fact. The Falcon, when she was in a good state of repair, was an extraordinarily fast and exceptionally nimble ship that was capable of carrying large amounts of freight through heavy fire, thanks to the substantial modifications he and Chewie had implemented over the years. Moreover, Han had the skills and the nerve to fly her through sketchy parts of space that others warily avoided. In Jabba's eyes, Han and his ship were commodities to be exploited, and he harboured little doubt that the vile Hutt would use his leverage over Han to his advantage.
"So, you think he'll see you as an asset to be harnessed," Leia said.
"Exactly. He won't want to lose me, but he will want to control me. I suspect he'll humiliate me a little in front of his court, just to make his point, then indenture me for a while. I'm worth a lot more to him alive, at least for now."
"Ugh," Leia groaned. She pressed her lips in a thin line and shook her head, her dark eyes troubled. "I don't like it."
"I know you don't, Sweetheart. Neither do I." He gave a shrug. "But I can't keep running, either. Sooner or later it'll catch up with me, and then it's certain death. If Jabba can't use me as a smuggler, then he'll use me as a warning to others."
"But you could die anyway, doing his most dangerous work. You could be killed or captured—."
"Hey, I'm pretty good at what I do. And I've survived this long, haven't I?" Wanting to offer some reassurance, he reached out and grasped her lightly by the shoulders, and then gently drew her closer. "I'm just saying, Sal's offer is the kind of opportunity I needed and didn't think I would ever get, to be in a position to bargain with Jabba and agree a deal before one of his goons takes me out. Once I've worked off whatever amount he wants, I'll be free." As he uttered that last word, he felt an unexpected pang of intense longing for that imagined future. Before today, he'd hardly dared to hope that the depth of Leia's feelings might match his own, but now that he had confirmation of it, whole new possibilities opened up. He reckoned it wasn't a crazy stretch of the imagination to contemplate spending the rest of his life with her, provided she wanted the same.
Leia angled her chin upward to meet his gaze with a wary uncertainty in her eyes. "And how long would that take?"
"I don't know, but I would negotiate a deal to make it as short as possible. I'm sure it would be fine. A standard month or two, maybe three? I'd get in touch with you as soon as the deal was made, so you'd know I was all right and when I would be likely to get back. We could arrange a rendezvous and—"
"And if I don't hear from you at all after you get to Jabba?"
"Well..." Han's eyes slid sideways. "That's when you'd bring in the big guns, I guess. Chewie could sneak in and bust me out."
"Sneak in? Chewie?"
"Okay, Luke can sneak in, then. Play some of those Jedi mind tricks on 'em, put all the guards to sleep or something—"
"That is the most ridiculous plan I've ever heard of."
"But at least it's a plan. And I'm just spitballing right now, okay?"
Releasing his hold on her, he stepped across to the sublight housing and entered the code on the adjacent panel to reactivate the grounding shield. He held his breath as it flickered for a few tense seconds, and then released it in a rush as the shield engaged with a familiar, steady hum of electromagnetic energy. He stepped back from the housing, hands on his hips, and let his eyes track around the interior of the bay. Satisfied that everything was back in some semblance of order, he made his way back to where Leia now stood at the threshold of the hatch. She was still giving him that look, he noted with a twinge of dismay, clearly waiting for him to elaborate on the details of his plan. He only wished he had them to give—and anyway, as she'd so astutely pointed out, the likelihood of things going according to any plan was slim, at best.
Still, he did have a few ideas brewing in the back of his mind. As he reached her side, he gave her what he hoped was his most disarming smile and then draped an arm around her shoulders, gently steering her with him as they began walking down the corridor toward the main hold.
"All right, how about this? Luke pretends to bring in Chewie for the bounty on his head. The kid could wear a disguise, infiltrate Jabba's court...find out where they're keeping me and then use his mumbo-jumbo to break me out."
"For a guy who doesn't believe in all that 'mumbo-jumbo', you sure are relying on it an awful lot..."
"Hey—" Stopping short in the middle of the corridor, he dropped his arm and angled around to face her.
Leia waved him off, rolling her eyes. "This plan is getting dumber by the minute, Flyboy."
"If you've got a better one, lay it on me."
Leia pursed her lips and crinkled her brow. "Not yet. And I'm not saying your plan is all bad. In fact, it may be the beginning of something that might actually work. The best compromise we can come to, anyway, short of sending an assassin to take Jabba out of the picture entirely."
"I'm not opposed to that."
Leia shot him a dark look. "Yes, well, even setting aside any moral considerations, it sounds like we'd need a lot more credits to pull that off than it would take to repay the debt and erase the bounty. And anyway, I don't have a list of skilled assassins in any of my databases, do you?"
Han cocked an eyebrow and opened his mouth to reply but she held up a forestalling hand. "Don't answer that. What I'm saying is that I think your plan, as ridiculous and dangerous as it is, is at least a starting point, and it might be worth running it past Chewie and Luke for their input. Together, I think we could come up with a way to make sure that you don't go near the Hutt unarmed or unprotected. And if your negotiation skills aren't as sharp as you think they are, we'll be on standby nearby to bail you out."
"Or maybe they'll have a better idea."
Leia took his arm and beamed up at him. "Exactly."
Han flashed her an answering smile and, resting his free lightly hand atop hers, they resumed walking together down the curving corridor. There was something deeply satisfying about strolling along with the princess in companionable silence like this, with her small hand linked warmly through the crook of his elbow. For a fleeting moment, he glimpsed a possible future life with Leia by his side, fiercely on his side in all things, a tiny but formidable bulwark against all threats of harm. The prospect of such a future took his breath away and terrified him at the same time. The more you want something—. With a frown, he knocked the cynical thought away and tightened his elbow to his side, keeping the princess close as they walked along.
As they reached an open hatchway and then stepped down into the lounge, a tantalizing scent wafted to Han's nostrils and his stomach growled in response.
Leia tilted her head back and inhaled deeply. "Mmmmm," she breathed. "Is that durmic spice?"
"I think so," Han replied. "Smells like Chewie's going all-in, breaking out the good stuff from his private stash. We're in for a treat, Sweetheart."
As if on cue, Chewie popped his shaggy head around the galley hatch. He yipped a greeting and then advanced a few steps into the hold, wiping his massive paws on a faded utility towel. He cocked his head, his bright eyes traversing them both from head to toe with a glimmer of amusement.
[*You have plenty of time for showers before dinner,*] he said.
Leia turned to Han. "You first," she said. "I'm going to my cabin to take stock of what I've got with me to get me through this trip. I'm hoping I still have some of Malla's Wroshyr-oil lotion left and I need my bacaonut shampoo."
Han nodded acquiescence as he turned on his heel to go, but Leia caught him by the hand and then drew him back to her with gentle traction. He went willingly and then stood in amazement as she stretched up on tiptoe and kissed him softly on the lips, in full view of Chewbacca's approving gaze. It was a brief kiss, but warm and full of promise, setting Han's heart thrumming into a higher gear. The princess subsided with a twinkle in her eye, gave his hand a light squeeze, and then departed for her cabin.