It was the gardening that did it for her. Leia had plenty of friends, but none that were truly dedicated gardeners. Her own family couldn't share in her love of gardening. Jacen, for all his philosophical ramblings about the simple life, didn't know arake from a hoe, and Luke had never pretended to understand anything about soil pH. Han was the only one who could understand it, though the technical details eluded him somewhat. It was another thing they shared, although it took retirement to bring it out.
Then Han died, and she never wanted to get up again. She curled up in bed and didn't get out, lost in her memories. Luke and Jacen kept telling her that Han wouldn't have want her to do this, but she thought Why? He did the same thing when Chewie died. and wouldn't get up.
At least, she didn't get up until someone splashed ice water on her head. She looked up, saw Jagged Fel staring down at her, and threw a lamp at his head.
It's very lucky that she has bad aim, or he'd be sporting another scar on his head.
But despite the lamp-throwing, he got her into the shower, dressed, and into a diner full of raucous diplomatic aides. On the other hand, she hadn't had decent Kserri-style nerf in years…
For some reason, she kept him around after that, even when he wasn't Jaina's boyfriend anymore. He was a pretty interesting man, even if his sense of humor was as dry as Mara's. But the thing that put the clincher on it was the gardening. In all the years she'd lived, she'd never met a fighter pilot who enjoyed gardening. It was like pilots had an anathema to the earth.
But he didn't. He enjoyed gardening. Miniatures, of course, because of the space constraints of military quarters, but she was sure that he could pick up temperate gardening in a snap. And as their lunch sessions grew more and more numerous, the more she learned about him: his passion for anthropology and obscure languages, his predictable enthusiasm for the latest tactics book, the surprising viciousness he employed onto the reputations of his political enemies… He seemed so young to her, so passionate and alive.
So when he kissed her the night of the celebratory ball, she kissed him back.
He pulled away immediately, of course, blushing and stammering and apologizing, and after a few awkward moments nearly ran back to his speeder. She just smiled.
The next day, she went up to him, and furiously trying to remember how to do it, (for Force's sake, it'd been thirty years) she asked him out on a date.