I still have a lot going on but I am trying to keep up with editing and posting as best I can. Real life is a b**** ;)

Han Solo had never dreamed that such a feeling of peaceful contentedness existed. He held Leia in his arms, one hand stroking her hair, a tender feeling of love pervading his soul.

His Leia. His beautiful Princess. Making love to her, with her, had been so much more than the simple, pleasurable act had ever meant to him before. With every kiss, every caress, he could feel himself loving her. Telling her, without the words, through his mere touch, what he felt deep in his heart.

And when he'd spoken the words, actually said them aloud, he'd meant it more than he could ever have imagined. He'd had no plan of telling her that he loved her, but at that moment he had felt it, so strongly, with such genuine sincerity, he couldn't not tell her.

She hadn't said the words back to him. But he knew she felt it. He had seen it in her eyes. The tears that had gathered in reaction to his declaration had been proof enough. If she was still scared, if she still needed time to come to terms with it, he would allow her that. He wouldn't push her; he wouldn't pressure her. All that mattered was that they were together now. That was all he would expect from her.

Needing to look at her, he rolled slightly away, meeting her sleepy, contented gaze. He brushed a lazy finger across her cheek and smiled. "You're so beautiful, Princess," he whispered, saying it more because it was the simple truth than because he felt she needed to hear it. His fingertip grazed her lips and she kissed it softly.

"You're not so bad to look at yourself," she said in a soft, slightly tremulous voice.

He moved over her, rolling her to her back and placing his hands behind her head. He stared into her eyes for an endless moment, until she broke the contact, looking down at his shoulder to trace circular patterns there with one finger. "Leia?"

The sound of his voice brought her eyes back to his. She looked at him questioningly.

He moved one hand from behind her head to brush his fingers across her chin. Even in the easiest of circumstances, he had trouble expressing himself. Moments like these were nearly impossible. "You're okay with this, right?" He cringed inwardly. "I mean, what happened, with us..." He let out a harsh, frustrated breath. "You don't regret it or anything...do you?" He had no idea what he would do if she said that she did.

Her gaze fell away from him again, and a suspicious moisture filled the corners of her eyes.

No, don't say it was a mistake. Please, not this time, Han's mind begged silently.

"No," she said in a voice so low that Han saw the movement of her lips more than he heard the word.

It was all Han needed to hear. He pulled her into a tight embrace, clutching her to him desperately, as if he were afraid she might suddenly disappear. "I love you," he whispered fiercely into her hair, eyes closed against the sweeping emotion that always seemed to carry him away in Leia's presence. "I think I loved you the first time I saw you," he admitted.

He felt Leia's hands holding fast to his shoulders, her face buried against his neck. She remained silent, but he could feel the trembling in her small form.

He rolled to his back, taking her with him to lie atop his body. He lovingly stroked the smoothness of her back. "You don't have to say anything, Princess," he whispered. "Not until you're ready."

They lay like that for a long time, sleep finally claiming him. He never saw the quiet tears that slipped down Leia's cheeks.

Leia Organa awoke to find Han's body tangled with hers, his arms and legs wrapped about her in a secure, comforting embrace. In a barely conscious haze, she reveled in the feelings his closeness imbued. His bare skin against hers was so warm, so blissful. A burst of pure joy flooded her, bringing with it those damnable tears again that seemed to overtake her at the very thought of Han. She closed her eyes, willing the tears to still.

This could not last. She knew that. But while she had this, this special moment in time to call their own, she decided to cherish it, guard it close to her heart. She knew instinctively that she would never feel this way again, not for anyone. She had never imagined that such a powerful feeling even existed.

She loved him. She knew that now. How had she not seen it before?

But she couldn't tell him. If she told him, if he knew for certain, it would make it all the more difficult for her when he had to go. She couldn't fool herself into believing he might come back to her. His spirit craved freedom. Yes, he had said he loved her. Perhaps he did. Or perhaps he only thought he did, having finally caught her in this chase that had been going on for so long.

I think too much. I need this right now. I haven't been this alive in too long.

She was going to concentrate on today, just this once. Tomorrow would take care of itself.

She opened her eyes to admire Han's well-loved features. She recalled how many times he had put his face this close to hers and she had panicked. Now, she couldn't imagine anything she wanted more than his closeness.

With the gentlest of fingers, she traced a slow line across his temple, down the smoothness of his cheek, then along the firmness of his jawline to that charismatic scar that graced his chin. He appeared so different now, his eyes softly closed, lips parted in sleep, dark hair tousled. He looked boyish, almost innocent. That thought brought a smile to her lips. Han Solo the Innocent he was not. She laughed softly, and Han stirred, his eyes blinking slowly open. His expression was confused, until his eyes came to rest on Leia. Then a broad grin creeped slowly across his face. He brought his arms more fully around her, nuzzling her neck.

"Mornin', Sweetheart," he said in a low, seductive tone that sent a shiver down her spine.

Swept up in his powerful embrace, Leia said nothing, only concentrated on how he made her feel. It was decidedly more than she would have imagined. Her hand brushed the hair at the nape of his neck, tickling gently.

At last he pulled back to look at her, his expression one of wonder.

"What?" she asked.

He let his eyes drift over her eyes, mouth, hair, before answering in an awestruck voice. "I just can't believe last night was real." He settled his gaze on her eyes.

Again, that tightness in her throat, stealing her voice.

He seemed to sense that she was overwhelmed, suddenly changing the topic. "Did you sleep all right?"

She nodded, trying to regain her composure. "I could tell you did."

He grinned. "Yeah. I don't think I've ever slept so good." He ran a hand down her back, over her hip, to rest in a gentle caress at the back of her thigh. She tried to suppress a shiver, uncertain if she liked this intoxicating power he had over her. "You cold?" he asked knowingly.

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Maybe a little."

"Well, " he pulled her closer. "I'm sure there's something I can do about that." His mouth claimed hers, kissing, long and deep, rendering her breathless and incoherent. She could think of nothing more perfect than his lips against hers, his tongue teasing hers. When his mouth moved from her, both were breathing in harsh, shallow breaths. "Any warmer?" he rasped.

"Just a little," she teased softly.

"Hm." He frowned in mock concentration. "I guess I'll have to give it another shot. Whaddaya think?"

"I suppose it's worth a try." Her eyes sparkled with adoring amusement.

Kissing her more fervently now, he pulled her closer, pressing her as tightly to him as he was able to. Her heart began to race as his hips ground insistently against her own. He ravished her mouth thoroughly, breaking through any last vestiges of teasing resistance.

His mouth tasted every part of her, moving down her body with ardent enthusiasm. "Love you, Princess," he murmured into the softness of her stomach. Her hands buried in his hair, soft cries of delight escaping her.

The caress of his hands, the heat of his mouth, left her gasping, head thrown back against the pillow, her voice whispering his name.

His mouth was at her own again and Leia felt his as if his whole soul joined with hers as their bodies united to become one surging emotion, one blinding explosion that left them both weak and trembling.

Shaken by a fear of loss, Leia was dimly aware of the tears that had pooled on her closed lashes. She was overwhelmed with the urge to hold him and never let him go. The thought this was not possible came to mind, instilling with it a deep sense of helplessness.

She swallowed back her sorrow, clutching tightly to Han's shoulders, unwilling to allow him to see how deeply she was affected. One hand moved to stroke the sweat-dampened hair from his brow, delighting in the intimacy of that caress, knowing there would come a day when she would no longer have this luxury.

Han's breathing was beginning to calm, and he whispered into her neck, "Wow, that just keeps getting better an' better." He sighed with deep contentment.

She laughed weakly. They held each other for countless minutes, stroking arms, shoulders, hair. Eventually he drew himself back to look at her, noting the dampness of her lashes.

"Sweetheart," he said with mild concern. "Should I be worried that my touch seems to make you cry?"

She could see that he was only half teasing. Embarrassed, she glanced away shyly. "No, I'm fine. No need to worry."

He gathered her closer, smiling affectionately. "Don't get me wrong...I'm flattered."
That only bought him a withering glare.

He grinned at her reaction, bringing up a hand to gently wipe at her damp lashes. His expression grew slightly fearful. "Seriously, though, Leia. Is it anything I did?"

Concern flooded her. "No!" she answered quickly. "Of course not. Why would you think such a thing?"

"Well, Leia," he said wryly. "Crying isn't quite the reaction I'm looking for when I make love to you."

She blushed delicately, drawing a brief, soft smile from the Corellian. The smile faded quickly.

"I'm not hurting you somehow, am I?"

She laid a hand tenderly across his cheek. "Han, you haven't hurt me and you haven't done anything wrong. I promise you."

He appeared unconvinced. "Last night...when I asked if you thought this was a mistake-"

Her finger against his lips stayed that thought. "I meant what I said last night. I don't think this was a mistake."

"Well..." His expression remained uncertain. "If you're sure..."

"I'm sure." She couldn't tell him what caused the overwhelming sorrow that had gripped her heart from the moment he first touched her. There was no describing it. And she didn't want to ruin what they had right now, it was too perfect. Distracting him entirely, she kissed his mouth sweetly, lovingly, losing herself in it utterly.

When they parted, Han grinned, all concerns apparently forgotten. He rolled from the bed suddenly, scooped her up in his arms and carried her in the direction of the 'fresher.

"C'mon, Your Highnessness. We haven't made proper use of the shower yet." He gave Leia a quick kiss as they disappeared through the door of the refresher.