It's come to my attention that chapter 7 is somehow missing (Thank you, Mako-clb). I was sure I posted it but ff.n has been giving me a lot of problems with updates. So, this is out of order and I apologize if it is confusing and if you have already read it. I will try to post chapter 10 tomorrow. I have been having a family emergency since Friday so things have been crazy.
My chapter 7 post:
Thank you to all for sticking with this story :) I think you'll like this chapter ;)
Han steered the stolen speeder bike through the trees, towards the place where he knew his beloved ship was waiting, along with his friends. He was quickly spotted on the terminal, and had just barely gotten the data uploaded to the datacard when blaster fire had destroyed the console in front of him. He had managed to get away and up to the transportation garage, hot wiring a speeder bike and blasting out. He glanced down at his speed reading and saw that it read one hundred seventy-five kilometers. He knew these babies could go at least as fast as two hundred, so he kicked it into high gear, the wind whipping past his face.
A laserbolt sizzled past his neck, missing him by a narrow margin. He winced and pushed the speeder to its limit now. A loud rumble came to his ears, drowning out the low hum of the speeder.
He had never been so happy to hear the sound of the Millennium Falcon's engines in his life. Narrowing his eyes against the wind, he braced himself for what he knew was going to be a dangerous maneuver.
A tiny speck in the distance, weaving through the trees, caught Leia's eye.
"There he is!" Her voice was an urgent whisper.
Chewie barked several instructions to them. In response, Luke got up from the pilot's chair, making room for Leia to take over. He went to the ramp, prepared to provide cover for Han if necessary.
As the speck grew to the identifiable shape of a speeder bike, Leia found herself gripping the controls with white knuckled fingers.
Han could hear the approaching speeder bikes behind him, closer now. He slowed as much as he dared, and was grateful to see the Falcon's ramp lowering. He saw a figure slide down the ramp and behind one of the struts. Luke stood there, picking off speeders as they approached.
Han angled the speeder so that he came in sideways, bracing himself for the coming impact. He was peripherally aware of Luke's blaster firing, then a crashing sound behind him, followed by a loud explosion that rumbled the air around him.
Han slowed the speeder bike even more, praying it would be enough. He counted silently, then hurled himself from the bike. It careened from under him, and Han felt the breath knocked out of him as he landed hard against the metal of the ramp, a hot pain searing through his left arm and burrowed into his side.
The wind was knocked out of him but before he could think, arms were gripping him around the torso, dragging him up the ramp and inside the ship.
"You are so lucky to be alive," he heard Luke shout over the noise of the hatch closing.
"Tell me about it," he muttered from the floor, holding his left arm with his other hand. Before he could protest, Luke had left his side to return to the cockpit. With every intention of taking over the controls, he allowed himself a moment to catch his breath.
Footsteps sounded from the direction of the cockpit, and Han turned towards the sound, finding a frantic Leia standing above him. He smiled up at her, hiding his physical discomfort. He felt the Falcon lift off the ground to soar towards the sky.
"Hey, Your Highnessness."
Her features hardened, eyes narrowed to slits. "Are you out of your mind?" she shouted.
"That's debatable."
"You almost got yourself killed!"
He began to stand, accepting the helpful hand she offered. "But I didn't. And that's what counts." He winced as pain flared in his side then forced a cocky grin.
"Why? What did you do that for?"
Han reached into the inside pocket of his vest, and triumphantly pulled out a datacard. "This, Sweetheart."
She stared at him, dumbfounded. "What is that?" she asked incredulously.
"Get a datapad and find out." Had he broken a rib? Every breath brought on a twinge.
"Damn you," she muttered before crossing the hold and taking a datapad from the shelf above the sensor station.
Han heard Chewie's frustrated howl from the cockpit. Apparently, the Imperials were in pursuit. Well, Luke and Chewie could handle it for the moment. He simply had to see Leia's expression when she saw what he had managed to steal.
The Princess inserted the card into the datapad, her expression the epitome of strained patience. Han continued to hold his side, trying not to breathe too deeply. He could feel the Falcon taking evasive maneuvers and he realized that he really should get to the quad gun.
Leia's eyes scanned the datapad, her expression darkening. She looked up at Han in wordless incomprehension.
"What?" He didn't understand the reason for her apparent confusion.
"What is this?"
Now he grinned again, his earlier confidence returning. "It's the file on Fleet Construction. The Imperial shipyards. The ones the Alliance hasn't been able to find." His voice was laced with pride.
She gaped at him. "You...you went back...you risked your life...all our lives...for this?!"
Perplexed at her lack of gratitude, Han began to grow angry. "That's right, Your Worship. I thought you'd be pleased." He didn't understand her. She was simply the most baffling woman in the galaxy.
"Pleased? Pleased that you would do something so...stupid?" She was seething now, and Han just couldn't understand why.
"I did it for your precious Rebellion. I thought you'd be happy about it. Most women would be. But wait," Han's voice took on a nasty edge. "I forget...you're not most women."
"I'm sorry, Captain. Unlike some women you may know, I don't hold the Alliance over absolutely everything. Including my friends' lives."
"What's that supposed to mean?" he shouted. He heard Luke's voice calling to them both, but ignored it.
"It means, I'm not Bria."
"What?"
"I'm not like Bria. I don't let people die needlessly."
Han's anger was quickly turning into rage. What did she mean, bringing Bria into this? This had nothing to do with her, this was between the princess and himself. He stepped closer to her, towering above her small form.
"I don't know what your problem is, Your Highnessness. I try to help, and this is the thanks I get?" He saw her open her mouth to speak, but shoved a finger in her face menacingly. "No, I don't want to hear it! I can't believe I was actually stupid enough to think you'd come down from that mighty throne of yours and realize that you're a person just like everybody else." He watched as her face changed, went from that hard mask to something more vulnerable. He knew he was about to hurt her with his words, perhaps irrevocably, but he was unable to stop himself. He looked her up and down, before adding, "I should have known there was a damn good reason they call you the Ice Bitch."
Her body shook visibly, fury building with each passing second. "How dare you speak to me like that!"
"Oh yeah, I forgot. The Princess is beyond reproach. You're perfect, how come I didn't see it before?"
"You're one to talk. Are you ever going to grow up? Be a big boy and take on some responsibility?"
He gestured expansively, the motion causing the pain to flare through his side. "Oh, I suppose this is all a game? I haven't really been helping the Alliance."
"You help while it's fun for you. You don't take it seriously," she accused.
He placed a hand on his side. "Yeah, Sweetheart, this is my idea of a good time. I just love gettin' injured."
For a fraction of a second, Han saw her expression soften as she glanced at his injured side. She seemed to momentarily fight a war within herself. "Are you badly hurt? Here let me..."
She reached towards him, but he pulled back, just beyond her reach. Han could see that she was concerned, but his anger was past the point of no return. "Oh no, I don't need your help, Princess. Wouldn't want you to get your hands dirty."
Her expression changed slowly from reluctant concern to feigned indifference. "Fine. I don't care if you bleed to death!"
"Don't worry, I won't let that happen. I wouldn't want to ruin your trip with something so trivial as my death."
She set her jaw, nostrils flaring, chest rising and falling rapidly. "I'm not that lucky!"
Han wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her. He couldn't recall ever being this angry with a woman before. "Don't worry, soon as we get back to base, I'll be out of your hair. Hell, maybe it's time I go pay off Jabba. I've stuck around here long enough."
Her face went white, and Han couldn't imagine what she might be thinking. "Fine." Her voice was a lethal whisper, colder than he had ever heard it. "I don't know why you've stayed this long."
"My point exactly."
She aimed one last glare at him, then turned and stomped out of sight. As he watched her go, Han heard Chewie let out a loud cry of victory and felt the ship shudder slightly as it jumped into hyperspace.
He held his side, wincing more from the stinging argument than the pain.
The quiet drone of the Falcon's engines usually lulled Leia into a peaceful slumber. It was the only place where she slept soundly. But this night cycle she found she could not sleep. She lay in the bunk, eyes wide open. It didn't help that she was staying in his cabin. She couldn't seem to stop thinking of him, or of the harsh words they had exchanged earlier.
She hadn't meant for things to get so out of control. When she had seen the datacard, her desperate fear had been replaced by an uncontrollable fury. She wanted to believe that her anger stemmed from the fact that he strayed from the mission, made his own rules. But she had to be honest with herself. The fact that he had needlessly put himself at such risk frightened her deeply. What if he had been killed? That possibility had terrified her beyond reason. And when she realized that he had risked himself simply for some information that was not even vital to the mission, she had snapped, lashing out at him with an anger that was directed more towards herself than at him.
She hated what he made her feel. She was beginning to realize that her feelings for him were desperately strong. Stronger than she would have thought possible. Those moments, those heartbreaking moments when she'd thought he might not make it back to them, had been too painful to bare.
She wondered if he meant what he had said about leaving. Maybe it would be for the best. Maybe if she got away from him, she could forget these horrible feelings of vulnerability. She wanted to stop feeling altogether. She had been able to do that before, to shut off her emotions and simply exist, letting nothing reach her. But Han had disrupted that. He had taken her galaxy and turned it end over end, shaking it up and leaving it all jumbled and confused.
She could barely remember what she said to him. Of course, his words were emblazoned on her mind. She felt as if they would never stop echoing in her ears.
Hell, maybe it's time I go pay off Jabba. I've stuck around here long enough.
Those words were most prominent in her mind. She didn't want him to leave. More than anything, she didn't want that. She just wanted things to be easier...calmer. She didn't want to feel so unsettled with him. During their moments of friendship and camaraderie, she felt almost happy, a feeling that was generally lacking in her life since Alderaan. But sprinkled amidst those moments were the intense instants of breathless confusion. Those instants were almost overwhelming. She simply could not handle them.
With a restless sigh, Leia left the bunk. Perhaps some time gazing at the stars would relax her. She turned on the illuminators and checked the chrono. At this late hour, the only one in the cockpit would be Threepio, and he could be easily dismissed. She didn't want to see anyone, she just wanted to be alone.
She padded through the ship on bare feet, almost enjoying the cold sensation of the deck. The discomfort was distracting. When she reached the doorway leading into the cockpit, she saw that she was not the only human awake after all.
Her heart jumped slightly at the sight of Han seated in his pilot's chair, leaning back with a pensive expression on his handsome face. Indecision churned in the pit of her stomach. A part of her wanted to run away, as fast as her legs would carry her. Another part wanted to make up with him more than anything. She stood in the hatchway, torn between two possibilities that seemed equally terrifying.
The entire situation with Leia was making Han crazy. He watched the stars stream by as he allowed the beautiful young woman to monopolize his thoughts. He didn't understand her. For that matter, he didn't understand himself either. Why had it been so important for him to get that data? He wasn't sure. Yes, he wanted to please her...but why?
He hadn't pleased her at all. He couldn't figure it out. Damn, she was the most confusing woman. He shook his head regretfully. He wondered if she would ever speak to him again. He had said some pretty horrible things. I can't believe I called her an Ice Bitch. Gods. He shook his head regretfully.
Of course, her words had been equally hurtful. And what was with that comment about Bria? Han wasn't sure. But it had brought him back to the painful truth: He was involved with Bria. And yet he thought about Leia more than he knew he should.
It was insane, and he knew it. A Princess and a guy like him? He was out of his mind to even consider the thought for a moment. Besides, there was Bria to consider. Bria...
He wasn't entirely sure what he shared with Bria anymore. Between their individual missions and her deep involvement with Alliance activities, they spent very little time together. Of course, Leia was just as embedded in the Alliance, and yet she spent plenty of time with him. He did love Bria. He had loved her for so long that it just seemed right to be with her. But sometimes he wondered how important he really was to her. She seemed to put most everything before him. That was why Han spent so much time with Leia and Luke. And when he really thought about it, he enjoyed spending time with his friends. He looked forward to it. When was the last time he had looked forward, with genuine excitement, to spending time with Bria? It felt almost like an obligation these days.
A soft sound from the cockpit entrance caused Han's hand to move reflexively to the blaster slung low on his hip, a reflexive response. He looked up to see Leia, soft and feminine in a long, white sleepgown. His hand returned to his lap, as he watched her sit gracefully on the edge of Chewie's large chair.
In a quietly amused voice she said, "I know you're mad, but you don't have to shoot me."
He met her eyes and relaxed slightly at her teasing tone. They both smiled tentatively. He felt a sudden tightness in his chest but wasn't sure why.
They both began to speak at once, half a word tumbling from each of their mouths. They shared a quiet laugh before Leia glanced away shyly.
"You go first, Princess," Han said softly.
Her eyes returned to him and she shifted uncomfortably in the huge chair. She was silent for a long moment, and Han could almost see her organizing her thoughts.
"I'm sorry," she finally said in one breath. "I didn't mean what I said. I didn't mean any of it." She looked down, clasping her hands in her lap.
"I'm sorry too. I didn't mean what I said either." He watched her carefully. She still looked almost...tortured. Seeking to elicit a laugh, a smile, anything other than this misery in her eyes, he added, "Except the Ice Bitch thing. I was serious about that." Her head snapped up and he grinned at her with sparkling eyes to show that he was teasing. She returned his smile, alleviating her of that disturbing sadness.
He leaned forward and took both her hands in his. Her face was only several inches from his now, and in the muted lighting, with her long, dark hair loose and flowing around her shoulders, she looked lovely...enticing. Like so many times before, he felt his body telling him he wanted her. He knew he shouldn't be feeling this way, but her nearness was intoxicating, addictive.
She sat up a little straighter, putting some space between them, breaking the spell she had captured him in. "What you did...getting that data...that was a very selfless thing you did."
"It was nothing."
"No, it wasn't nothing. And I shouldn't have reacted the way I did."
He could hardly disagree, so he said nothing, just continued to hold her hands in his.
"The Alliance thanks you." She smiled affectionately.
The Alliance. She thought he did it solely for the Alliance. Well, why would she think otherwise?
She sat back, forcing him to drop her hands. Averting her eyes, she said quietly, "I'm sure Bria will be proud of you."
Han blinked. How was it that when he was with Leia, he almost never thought of Bria? And why did Leia keep bringing her into this? "Yeah. I guess." He shrugged.
"Are you really going to leave when we get back to the base?"
He could see how much the question cost her. It made his heart soar to see the hopeful look that lit her eyes. "Nah. Like I said, I didn't mean any of that."
A relieved smile appeared, warming her features with a beauty that took his breath away. She stood suddenly and moved towards the doorway, turning to look at Han before she left. She rubbed at her neck with a pained expression. "I think I can sleep now." She smiled at him more warmly, only a hint of discomfort remaining.
Han stood too, joining her in the archway. He watched as she massaged her neck with small, nimble fingers. Without a word, he placed his hands on her shoulders and began kneading the muscles. He saw the way she tensed at his touch, but she did not move away. He towered over her, suddenly finding her small stature endearing.
She stared up at him with an expression full of longing. It made a pleasant flush course through his body, warming him on the inside. His hands continued to knead the tension from her form, slowly travelling from her shoulders to her neck. She tilted her face up to him, and his eyes were drawn to her lips. He felt himself being pulled into the surreal moment, and slowly lowered his face to hers until there was barely a space left between them. She didn't move away, yet still did not encourage him. But her eyes...her eyes seemed to beckon him, and her lips were irresistible as he closed the last breath between them to brush his lips softly against hers. He slipped his hands from her neck, down her shoulders, to caress her back. He felt her entire body tremble beneath his touch, and it moved him in a way that shocked him. He kissed her gently, tenderly, taking his time to savor the softness of her lips, the sweetness of her breath. It felt so right, it felt like the galaxy standing still just for them. He had never imagined that a kiss could complete him this way, making him feel so blissfully content.
He opened his eyes to see her lids closed in a dreamy, faraway look that simply melted him. He let his eyes fall shut and pulled her against him, desperation suddenly eating at his soul. But his mouth remained gentle as he slowly parted her lips and stroked her tongue with his own, soft and searching. For the briefest of moments, she responded, her mouth coming alive beneath his, warm, open, embracing his touch.
In a heartbeat, disappointment clutched him as he felt her mouth withdrawing from his. "Please don't do this to me," she breathed against his lips.
He barely heard her, but the words sunk his heart. She sounded so utterly terrified. He didn't understand. He could feel how much she wanted him. It was in her eyes, her kiss, her touch. It coursed through her tremulous body, flowing from her, into him, joining with his desire to become one single emotion.
But the last thing he wanted was to cause this strong, beautiful woman more pain than she had already suffered. So, he pulled back, dropped his hands from her body and, with a supremely painful effort, breathed a ragged sigh, attempting to release his pent-up frustration and desire. It didn't work.
But he looked at her. Really looked at her, saw her closed eyes, her trembling body, the fear etched in her face beneath the longing. He wasn't sure what scared her so much. But he couldn't stand to see her hurting. Impulsively, he bent his forehead to rest against hers and closed his eyes.
"Leia," he whispered in agony.
"I can't do this." She shook her head slowly, eyes still clenched shut.
Her hands were on his biceps now. He couldn't tell if she was holding him at bay or keeping him in her grasp. He backed away from her to take her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him with large eyes filled with fear.
"I'm with Wesley," she whispered unconvincingly, eyes now open but not looking at him.
He shook his head slowly. "You're with Wesley. But you're still alone."
Tears sprang to her eyes. "And you're with Bria."
That doused his desire like a splash of cold water. He hadn't been thinking of Bria. Not at all. He knew there was nothing he could say in response to that.
She swallowed hard and stepped away from him, bracing herself with one hand against the bulkhead.
He bowed his head, staring at the deck. "I'm sorry."
She shook her head quickly. "No. It was a mistake, that's all."
Her words cut through him like a vibroblade. How could anything that felt so right possibly be a mistake?
"I'd better go to bed." She didn't look at him, but Han heard the deep breath she expelled, proving how affected she was.
His heart wrenched at the sight of her. She turned from him and rushed from the cockpit without a backwards glance.
Han felt as if his breath left with her. He dropped into his seat and buried his head in his hands. Whatever had just happened between them, it was overpowering. That kiss had left him dizzy. He wanted to go after her. He wanted to tell her how much he wanted her, that he would give up anything just to be with her. Anything and everything.
What about Bria? Han sat up and stared out the viewport. At the moment, his relationship with Bria seemed distant and vague. He knew he had wronged Bria by kissing Leia. Part of him felt horribly guilty. But another part of him felt so strongly drawn to the Princess that nothing else mattered. Not promises, not declarations of love. Nothing.
It doesn't matter. She pushed me away. She doesn't want this.
But he couldn't truly believe it. He had felt her response to him. Obviously, she did want it. But something held her back. Wesley? He hoped not. Bria? Maybe.
He could still taste her lips, could still feel the softness of her body against his. The sensations tormented him. Images ran through his mind: kissing her till she could no longer think to protest; kissing her neck, running his mouth along her body; pulling the sleepgown over her head, her body flushed with desireā¦
He closed his eyes in an attempt to still the images. His hands shook with barely controlled emotion.
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed deeply. "I'm in hell," he muttered softly to himself.
