Chapter Nine
Han knew what he was doing. It had been a while and he didn't go looking for it but nothing much else was happening and it was easy enough to fall back to it.
Their base on Chomre was in a secluded, and mostly obscured, valley. They carved out caverns in a mountain side for hangers. Built temporary structures for the command center, barracks, and mess hall. But they were having difficulties setting up their next base so what was supposed to be a relatively short stay had stretched into a rather lengthy one, which took them through the rainy season.
There were reasons few Chomrian citizens resided in these valleys. Torrential rains meant the mountain lake flooded, sending mud and detritus into the Rebel's water supply below. They needed to divert the clean water travelling from the lake to the tanks. When the rains finally stopped, the machines came out, trenches were dug and pipes assembled.
Han volunteered to be a part of the crew, shoring up the sides of the new trench and ensuring the pipes and pathways were secure. Most of the shift had turned over from the morning but he stuck with it. Han didn't mind this kind of work. He'd done it a few times, usually when the higher paying, maybe illegal jobs, didn't pan out and he needed some funds to get them to the next spot. Even as a teenager, if he could slip away from running scams, he'd pick up jobs here and there to get some credits for himself. He was never afraid of hard work and physical labour.
It had been a long few weeks of rain. The layout of the base and separation of buildings meant no one ventured out unless absolutely necessary and by the end of it Han was officially stir-crazy. Other than a few supply runs and missions that got them off-planet, he and Chewie spent most of that time in the hanger and on the Falcon. All of his usual distractions were unavailable. He didn't even try for card games since that would've meant facing the insane rain to get to the barracks or others coming to him and, quite frankly, no one could be bothered. Luke was off on scouting missions most of the time and Leia had disappeared almost entirely.
Things with her were weird for a bit after he yelled at her boyfriend. It wasn't his finest move but what did she expect? The guy was rattling on about Alderaan and acting like Leia didn't know it was beautiful and now turned to fucking dust. Han was pissed that Tech Boy was too caught up in his own story to see how upset she was and then he was pissed that Leia didn't fight back. She always fought back. So, Han lost his mind for a bit and she didn't talk to him for about a week.
They'd mostly settled back into old routines of missions and hanging out, except for the fights. They'd always fought a lot but it was mostly stubborn people butting heads and never as bad as everyone else thought. The two of them were mostly good with it but things got messy on Kochi and he wasn't sure they had fully recovered. The fights could take on a life of their own. If they moved past the bickering stage, things got intense. He couldn't get a handle on his anger, sometimes rage, and it wasn't the kind of chaos he usually craved. It also didn't seem to be something he could actually stop. The mission to Lothol was the perfect example.
They needed to get an informant off-planet but there was an Imperial stronghold and they had no real ideas other than get in and get out. Fast. Rieekan made the pitch at a pilots' briefing and it wasn't that no one would volunteer—everyone was there to pitch in—but they had a thousand questions and the brass didn't have answers.
There were no fake IDs or codes to use, no cloaking devices. The Rebel cell was broken up, killed or captured so there was no one to help on the ground. Leia knew the informant, some Alderaani who worked with Bail, but even she wasn't pushing anyone to take it. The mission was that crazy.
Han got tired of the discussion. They were talking theories and hypotheticals and the only way to figure it out was to do it. He knew Lothol well enough, knew where the informant was last hiding out and guessed a few of his old contacts were still active and could help. He could root through the supply room, pull old equipment he could trade for info and maybe passage. A bit more leverage.
Han stood up and everyone else in the room quieted down, surprised by his sudden movement.
"We can load up on fuel and be out of here in an hour or so." He left the briefing room without waiting for a reply and Chewie followed.
He thought Leia would be grateful but she arrived angry. She called him insane. Said he didn't need to prove anything. She insulted the Falcon, said they'd be lucky if it got out of atmosphere. It was what she did when she got stressed. She accused. She shut down. She condemned. So, he did what he did. Lashed out. Called the Rebellion such a lost cause they couldn't even save one of their own.
Han couldn't remember all they said, only that they were screaming by the end and he kicked over a toolbox to make some final and dramatic point. He and Chewie were half a day away before he calmed down and thought about her angry and terrified expression and wondered why he always fell in the same trap.
He was always reacting, usually badly, to whatever she threw at him. He was off his game. His prime survival skill was to shake things up, do what needs doing, then get the hell out. But here he was twisting himself up in the plans and schemes of an ambitious, single-minded, all-rebellion-all-the-time princess. He didn't know how to act while in it, or how to get out of it, and riding that wave seemed increasingly complicated. He needed to act. Do something. That's why he took the Lothol job. He needed to be in charge and not feel like the moods of a princess dictated his state of mind.
Then he and Chewie got back to base, after safely dropping off the informant on Sullust, and the rainy season started and he had weeks of barely seeing her.
Of course, he wasn't reacting very well to that fact either. It was an unfamiliar feeling but he was pretty sure he missed her, which alternately made him pace the Falcon trying to figure out a way to get in her path or be pissed off. He was pissed that he allowed himself to be so reliant on her company. That's not how the life of a smuggler worked. How was he going to hop from one end of the galaxy to another if he spent so much time wondering if she got enough to eat or finished researching supply routes for Hoth? He wasn't too concerned about the routes but he knew she cared so that meant he did. Dammit. He even missed her showing up on the Falcon to complain about whatever was setting her off that day.
Han usually kept busy with repairs while she ranted or sometimes he sat stretched out on the bench drinking an ale. She really cared about all this stuff and he liked seeing her energized and angry. It was usually about High Command and their attempts to distract her from the field and back to safehouses. Or people who insisted on treating her like a delicate princess. Or anyone who didn't see the benefit in finding the missing accounts and donors. It wasn't a lost cause to her.
Han figured it was a way for her to connect with her old man but didn't test that theory by bringing it up. He'd been working hard on the don't make Leia cry project. That included Tech Boy almost making her cry, too. It was sometimes hard to predict what would set her off—fine—but how could someone not react if she hit that point? It was like on Abottin. As soon as he realized he'd said the wrong thing, how much it affected her, he changed tactics. How could Tech Boy just breeze past it? Not see the colour drain from her face. Or hear that small hitch in her voice. It was so fucking obvious.
As soon as the rains stopped, the weather turned humid and quickly became almost unbearable. Yet another reason that Chomrians didn't live in these windless valleys. It wasn't so bad when they'd started early that morning but now it was almost noon and the sun was taking its toll. Han had wiped the sweat from his face with the hem of his t-shirt so often that it was soaked through. He took it off and tossed it to the side.
He knew people were watching him. He ignored it for the first while, figured it was none of his business, but he was bored and it was a familiar routine. It had been a while but it wasn't the kind of thing you forgot. He knew what he was doing and it was something to help pass the time. There wasn't any harm in it. Not like there was anyone he needed to worry about occupying his time these days.
It was a teenaged Han thing. He first figured it out when was fifteen or sixteen. At that point in his life, he liked the attention. Craved it. He scraped by on his own for a long time then made good with the Worms. Got a bed, regular meals, and worked his way up that ladder. Okay, not actually a ladder, but he proved his worth and got better jobs and sometimes he could pull in something extra. But at that point, he was alone. He was always alone. So, it was hard to resist when he realized he could get that level of attention, even if it was fleeting.
It wasn't that hard to get laid. If he was smart about it, cleaned himself up enough and kept an eye out when he was running a job, he might also get a meal. A better bed for a few hours. It wasn't like spotting a mark. Never like that. It was all about a good time. Having fun. No one taking anything too seriously. He never took money cos that would have meant something else but one time he got a pair of leather boots. He had those boots until he entered the Academy.
He was always careful, too. He did a lot of messed up things without thinking them through but he was always careful with sex. He saw enough babies born to kids, enough girls who had to work it for a living get sick with some disease, that he never took chances.
If he told Leia those stories she'd never believe him—that he didn't do anything stupid—which was one of reasons he didn't tell her much of anything. It wasn't that she was judgemental about it all. She wasn't too keen on Luke going to the brothel but she didn't seem to have any issues about sex in general. She did accuse him of doing a lot of stupid things, though.
He'd almost let a few things out of the bag. She had this way about her. Made him forget sometimes that anything not locked down could be used against him later. He was getting sloppy. And it wasn't just that he'd almost let things slip more than once. It's that he wanted to tell her. Didn't feel like secrets when he thought about telling her. Felt more like the stories already belonged to her.
But he knew better. If he told her one of the only memories he had of his mother was of her crying because he got suspended from school, or that his old man locked him out of the house overnight cos Han talked back, then he'd be that punk-ass kid who made his mother cry and got booted by his dear old dad. He didn't know for sure if that was how she'd see him but he wasn't taking any chances.
Most of these rebels played it cool, saving the universe and all, but they could be as obvious as the rest of them. Might as well be the rich women at the Cornet City Market, trying to catch the eye of teenage Han. A few of them stopped by the site, asking questions, making small talk, offering him water. Han had never been so hydrated in his life.
Davia F'ssou, a med tech, was the most persistent. She acted like she was just passing by, asked him how he was doing, made a joke about digging his way to Coruscant. He didn't laugh but he must have looked somewhat encouraging because she returned with a different shirt and fewer buttons done up.
He wasn't much interested but he also didn't see the point in dismissing her all together. He wasn't the only one out there working and everyone appreciated the water. It's not like he was getting special service, just special attention. And he was getting a bit of a kick out of it. A bit of a boost. He knew enough to know it wasn't the exact attention he was craving this time around but that one wasn't coming any time soon so no harm done. He wasn't really stringing F'ssou along. He mostly nodded or gave one-word answers to her questions and wondered how long she could stretch this out. Pretty long, apparently.
"Looks like you're making good progress."
Han turned when he heard the others snicker.
"Maybe High Command will give him another medal."
Han gave Celchu, who was openly laughing at him, a hard stare. In general, Han's attitude was let them have their fun if that's all the fun they had going. It was pretty easy to remind everyone that he was hard to ignore and that was all a part of the routine. But he wasn't always in the mood to play along.
"People are still talking about the party after that last medal ceremony. Sounds like something I wouldn't mind checking out."
He looked at her long enough to see her smile. She wasn't so forward as to lick her lips but she did step forward without breaking her gaze.
He'd heard a lot of the stories about him and that medal ceremony party and didn't bother to shoot any of them down. It was surprising that anyone still believed them, though. He thought pretty highly of himself but there's no way he could have been in that many places and with that many women in a single night. It was like a holo-porn plot. Hell, it might be the plot of a holo-porn by now.
In reality, he'd hung around for a couple of hours, drank some booze, moved through the room like he was casing the joint. He wasn't planning a heist—and those Rebels never had much to steal—but he also didn't know any other way to be. Needed to know the exits and where any sentries stood. Assess who was wearing a blaster, who was drunk, who was faking. Watched to see who was pairing up and who he could rely on if trouble arrived. He didn't slip off with any of the women who were more than willing and were very clear about being available because he didn't know who he could trust. They'd just come out of the mother of all battles and no one knew for sure what was next. They definitely weren't in the clear.
He understood that the Rebels were the good guys but he didn't know everyone in the room that night. He definitely didn't know if they were all on the up-and-up. Or if something happened, and the Imps hit them again, he had no idea if any of them would have his back. Only Luke. And he had a pretty good feeling about the Princess straight-away, too. So, he stuck close to them if he talked to anyone that night then returned to the Falcon long before the party ended.
He figured he'd take off the next day but accepted a contract to help with the evacuation. Then a mission. Then supply run. Then the next thing. He always made a big deal about getting paid and working on contract but it was pretty obvious that the Alliance was strapped for cash. His invoices often went unpaid and he gave most of the reward back a couple weeks later.
It was never across the board but Han also learned he could rely on most of these beings fighting the good fight. They were probably going to spend the next six months giving him a hard time about this med tech lusting after him but he knew they had his back in a firefight.
"How much longer do you think you have to work?"
She put her hands behind her, arched her back slightly and shifted on her feet. He knew the move. It was the signal for him to take a step forward and gauge her reaction. Make sure they were both heading in the same direction. He didn't make his move. He leaned on his shovel and took a deep breath.
He was thinking too much about sex these days. Probably because it had been too long and he didn't want to do the actual math to figure out how long. There'd been altogether too much time on base. Or runs. Or missions. He used to try to get something happening when he was planet-side on a run but gave up on it awhile back. And the last try had been a bit of a disaster.
That one was a mistake. He was so pissed off when he left the Falcon. Furious at Leia and Pyrtor and himself but mostly Leia. Made his way to the nearest cantina and consumed several more whiskys. Found the first person interested in something quick and dirty and got to her ship in no time.
It should have been simple enough but he couldn't stop talking. He ranted about women not knowing what they wanted and taking the easy route. Babbled on that she could do better but she was too hung up and stuck up to see what was really going on. The woman he was with—they didn't exchange names—eventually paused her attempts to undo his belt and sighed.
"Maybe she's waiting for you to stop talking."
And that's when Han realized that he was the drama. He nodded at the woman, mumbled a quick apology, and made his way back to the Falcon.
Han knew the issue was the Princess. She was in his head. He was thinking about her too much. Maybe he was a bit pissed off that it wasn't going to go anywhere. Because the weeks of isolation thanks to the Chomre rains only proved the point Leia had wormed her way into all his routines. It was weeks with her only being a thousand or so feet away but not seeing her. It drove him crazy.
She used to come by the Falcon for all kinds of stuff, not just ranting about High Command. She sat at the games table to work because it was quieter than the offices. She helped him with repairs sometimes if she wanted to talk things out or needed a break. She showed up for kaffe or lunch if she thought it was better than the mess hall. He found her sleeping in the crew quarters more than once. She treated the Falcon like her second home, or maybe her first since the base didn't seem much like one, and he didn't tease her about it because he didn't want her to stop coming around.
So, when she was right there—right there—and nowhere to be seen, he almost lost his cool. His solution was to comm her. Often. Sometimes well into the night. Most of the time he was trying to make her laugh, or rile her up, but some kind of response was the desired effect. She only answered about half the time. He thought about storming over, finding her, asking what the hell was her problem. But he had enough sense to keep his distance. Instead, he paced around the ship so much Chewie called him pathetic.
He didn't pay much attention to Chewie's razzing cos that's what he did, what they did to each other, but he took note when it stopped. They were in their third week of solid rain and Han was trying to figure out if he could preserve the last of the fresh fruit for Leia. He was working out the math and mechanics of rigging up an additional freezer unit using an old air compressor and some left-over coolant when he realized Chewie was staring at him. Not making fun of him for being a lovelorn teenager or that humans had idiotic mating rituals. The Wookiee looked almost sympathetic, like he felt sorry for him. Chewie stared at him for a few moments then walked away. That's when Han knew he had to get his shit in order. Clear his head.
When the rains ended, and they needed to divert the stream for clean water supply, Han volunteered cos manual labour would get his mind off things. Help him focus. The fact that F'ssou took an interest was an added distraction. No harm done if he didn't shut it down right away.
"Quit whenever I want." He stood tall and leaned against his shovel. "Best thing about being your own boss."
Han realized he may have miscalculated the situation. He let all this bubble up because he was bored but he didn't consider the fact that everyone was bored. They'd had weeks of weather lockdown, faced with same walls, same faces, same activities. F'ssou hadn't paid him that much attention in the almost two years he'd been with the Rebels but she was looking for her own distraction now.
"I brought something a bit more refreshing than water." She pulled a small bundle out of her side pant pocket and unwrapped the cloth. It was a bottle of Corellian spiced ale, dripping with condensation as cold liquid reacted against the humidity.
"You been stocking up?"
"Saving it for a special occasion." She uncapped the bottle and handed it to Han.
He thought about it for a few seconds. How much would he be stepping in it? How much did he want to drink that ale? He decided quite a bit.
Han nodded. "Thanks."
He took a step back. With one hand on the shovel, he tilted his head back and drank. The plan was to take a sip then go back to work but it was cold and tasted good. He swallowed the ale in long slow gulps and didn't stop till the bottle was drained.
When he dropped his hand and lowered his head, it wasn't F'ssou and her hungry eyes that he spotted first. It was Leia.
She stood a few feet behind F'ssou, feet hip width apart, arms crossed over her chest. She didn't look angry but her face looked stern, set. The only telltale sign of being affected was her chest rising and falling in deep breaths. Han couldn't tell if she was angry or something else entirely. He only knew that he suddenly felt like his display didn't have the effect he wanted and not on the right person.
"Hey, Princess."
"Sorry to interrupt." She dropped her arms to her sides. "I'll talk to you later."
Han watched her walk away. He handed F'ssou the empty bottle because he didn't know what else to do with it. He gave her another thanks before turning back to his work.
He felt a touch of something he thought might be guilt. It wasn't an emotion he'd had much use for but it showed up now and then. The thing was, he didn't think he'd done anything to feel guilty about. Okay, maybe he let the flirting go on a bit too long but he didn't actually feel guilty about that, did he? What was the harm in it? And he wasn't flirting so much as letting her flirt. The ale drinking might have been a bit much but he was also hot and thirsty.
Celchu, Antilles and the others working tried to include him in the chatter but he'd lost interest. He didn't even notice when F'ssou walked away. He wasn't thinking about the tech. He was thinking about Leia. Trying to decide what that look meant. Was she pissed? Turned on? Didn't care about any of it? He could work with two out of those three. Not caring would be a problem.
This was the part that tripped him up. Caring. Caring whether she cared. Maybe that was the problem. If she'd shown any interest in him along the way, he'd already have her long out of his system. He flirted with her, and she sometimes flirted back, and he liked to make her squirm with an innuendo or two but he'd never made a serious move. First there was the kid and his crush—he wasn't going to step on Luke's toes—but that didn't really play into much anymore.
When he found out about Pyrtor, and that he was a tall, handsome, rich kid, Han figured there wasn't much use in trying. It wasn't against his moral code—and yes, he did have a moral code—to hit on someone in a relationship. Those often ended up being the most fun and there was a built-in excuse to not hang around the next day. But he figured Leia wasn't the type to mess around so he didn't waste too much time thinking about it.
But then he did. Think about it. About her. A lot.
Han had never met anyone as smart as Leia. She was obviously pretty—beautiful—but she was also quick witted and funny. Picked up every piece of information and remembered everything. She learned Shyriiwook pretty damn quick, too. She was always six steps ahead of everyone else. He loved watching her mind work, pulling ideas and plans apart, rebuilding it into something she could use.
She was a great shot, was turning into a respectable pilot, never ran away from a fight and Han was pretty sure Leia could save the galaxy all on her own if she had to. She was strong, confident, assured of herself and it was a crazy turn on. He'd always been attracted to smart, opinionated, full bore, passionate women. The one-and-a-half times he had (most likely) been in love were with women who took charge and rarely backed down. He fought with them a lot, too.
It didn't feel quite the same this time, though. He couldn't put his finger on it. Something to do with how he looked at her or she looked at him. Felt different. Or maybe it was just that they hadn't slept together. That can add up to a lot more than people think. Maybe it was cos she was sleeping with someone else and he was competitive enough to admit that drove him nuts.
Antilles patted down a mound of dirt and announced the job was done.
"That's gotta hold. And if not, we're moving to Hoth earlier than expected."
Han dropped the shovel near the rest and saluted the crew. He'd been there longer than the others so didn't feel compelled to be there through the clean-up. He suddenly felt wiped. He needed a long shower. Maybe there was still some of that stew Chewie made the night before. He walked back to the Falcon determined not to let himself get tangled up in thinking about Leia.
It was just a mess of a lot of things. He'd been trapped on the Falcon for too long. He needed to act not react. He needed to get laid. That part was obvious. Not on base but soon. And with a lot less drama. Maybe he should drop by Deandra sometime soon and see if Tess was still around. There was never any added weight to the arrangement. They liked spending time together. They were both there to have a better than okay time. She was always fun, in and out of bed. Maybe that's what he needed. Someone who he liked as much when they weren't having sex.
He needed to cut back on all things Leia. She was taking up too much space. It wasn't so strange that she factored into his erotic fantasies—pretty, turn on—but she had taken over. It wasn't usually his style to think about anyone in particular. He told himself it was proof of his lack of romantic commitment. Even his fantasies were one-offs.
But then the Leia fantasies started piling up. He woke up from dreams and wondered why she wasn't beside him in his bunk. When he masturbated, he only thought about Leia. It was always her hands. Her tongue. Her breasts. Her everything.
He should have had a cold shower but the heat felt good. His muscles needed it. His body was likely going to ache tomorrow. He soaped up then rinsed it off. He leaned against the side of the stall, supporting himself on his outstretched arm. He tilted his head under the showerhead, let the water run through his hair.
He started to stroke himself, just a couple of times to work out a bit of tension. He flashed back to Leia standing in front of him, arms crossed, feet planted firmly. He watched her chest rising and falling with deep breaths. Then it was her hand stroking him, moving slowly up and down his shaft.
Han had a brief moment of clarity, thinking maybe he should try thinking about someone else. Focus on F'ssou who, technically, was standing right there, too. She wanted him, unlike Leia. F'ssou was willing.
The pace of his strokes picked up and then it wasn't Leia's hand but her mouth. He closed his eyes, picturing her kneeling in front of him then in his arms and wrapped around him. He knew he was mumbling her name in between his moans and didn't care.
When he was clean and dry and newly dressed, Han heated up the last of the stew in the galley. Well, he and Chewie called it the galley but Leia insisted on calling it the alcove because that's essentially what it was. They'd rigged up a counter space with heater and cooler units and some cupboards near the refresher so they could use the same water supply. It was ridiculously small but they did pretty well with it.
He headed into the lounge area with his bowl and another bottle of ale and Leia was sitting at the games table. He stopped short, blinked a couple of times.
"Hey."
She looked up and smiled. It was a wide, almost excited smile. "Chewie said I could come in and wait for you."
He had quick flashes of her hand, her mouth, what he had been imagining only minutes earlier as he sat opposite her.
"What's up?"
She laced her fingers together and rested her hands on the table. She leaned forward, almost brushing his bowl as he started eating. She wanted his full attention.
"I figured it out."
He stared at her. Swallowed. Tried to think of all the ways and for what reasons he could be caught.
"Figured what out?"
"Bail's accounts." Her brown eyes were aglow. They were always bright, always ready and curious, but this was something more. She was lit from within. "I solved it."
He put his spoon down. "No shit?"
"Actually, there are two things. First, I managed to track down some of those accounts and they weren't empty. In fact, money was still being deposited occasionally. I guess they didn't know we had no one on this end to pick it up."
"Huh." He smiled at her. "Well, that's something."
"However, most of those accounts we found on Abottin were fake. Well, the accounts must have been real at some point and likely had credits but they aren't directly associated with the donors or any money we can use. But they were registered foundations and charities."
"But you don't know who the accounts or charities connect to."
She sat back in her seat and took a deep, satisfied breath. "Until now."
He didn't know what Leia was like before they met, but the woman he knew was very careful with her emotions. She took her role as rebel leader very seriously. She could be quick to anger, and she was willing to relax and laugh a bit more as time went on, but she liked to keep things in check. Chewie thought it was the only way she could deal with her grief. Don't let it out, don't process it, channel it into something productive like work and more work.
It came out in other ways, though. Their fights, especially lately, were one version. She had nightmares, sometimes crying out in her sleep when they were on a mission. No one talked about it much but he and Luke, even Chewie sometimes, reacted to them. Sometimes they ran into each other in the corridor, nodding in silence as whoever was closest knocked on her door. Called her name until she responded.
He'd seen them up close, too. Sometimes they had to spend time in close quarters, usually hiding out until they could get themselves out of whatever mess they were in. If they were lucky, they ended up in a hotel room but too often it was dugout in a forest, some small shelter, a hidden away corner of some building. Once or twice, maybe more, he woke up to her thrashing, or crying, heading for a scream.
It was unnerving to see her so distressed and he felt ill-equipped to respond so he did what seemed natural. Well, natural without making her feel like he was groping her. He spoke to her gently. Said her name. Tried not to freak her out more. He figured she was dreaming about the Death Star so he reminded her where she was and that she wasn't a prisoner. If the nightmares seemed particularly bad, he lightly stroked her cheek, held her hand. He told himself it was a means to stop her from hitting him but he also hoped it helped her.
She was usually confused when she woke up and one time she started crying but she usually went back to sleep. Sometimes he kept hold of her hand or wrapped his arm over her shoulder to keep her warm. Other times, when they found themselves in similar circumstances and settling in for a night in a cramped space, he suggested he hold her to, you know, ward off those nightmares but she usually rolled her eyes and suggested he dream on.
"I started cross-referencing the names of the Abottin accounts with other information that Bail left behind. Variations of the same names appeared on several lists and I can trace from one account to the next. Sometimes it's a dozen steps in between but I found the connections. I've identified six companies or individuals who used to be major donors for the Alliance."
"Now what?" He'd given up on his meal. He was mirroring her stance, leaning back against the bench. At least now he knew one of the reasons why she wasn't responding to his comms. She spent the weeks of rain going through all the data again.
"I need to do a bit more investigating. We'll need background checks on everyone, see if there's anything we can dig up. We need to determine if it's safe to approach them again. It's been almost two years and a lot may have changed."
"What's brass say about all this? Madine willing to rustle up some intel?"
"I haven't talked to them yet." She bit her bottom lip. She was really having trouble containing herself. She crossed her arms over her chest not in comfort or for protection. She looked like she was worried they might start flailing wildly around her.
"I came here first." She raised one eyebrow and gave him a bit of a smirk. "Well, I went looking for you earlier but you were busy."
She came to see him first. Leia had been working on this project for months, maybe a year. She was obsessed with finding new streams of financing, determined to not let anyone down, least of all the looming legacy of her father. All the Alliance big guns were depending on her, told her so regularly. They were waiting for her to find more resources, funding, support. They needed the cash to keep going, build the next base, get the weapons and ships they needed to win this war. And she came to him first. Not Luke. Him.
It was unfamiliar feeling. It wasn't lust. He knew lust. His chest hurt slightly as he breathed. He couldn't get quite enough air in his lungs. He thought maybe he was blushing but he didn't blush so it must be something else. He wanted to smile. Laugh. But he kept everything in check because that's what he did. That's what they both did.
"Digging. I was digging a trench so you would have fresh water."
"And I am grateful for your service." She leaned forward again, still energized. "Once we have the go-ahead, I need to make contact with these potential donors. Pyrtor can help. We could probably use Thyre Industries or the foundation for a cover, too."
Pyrtor. He was going to save the day for her. His rich boy connections were going to get her what she needed. What she desired most. Sure, Han was a good thief. He got her into the building, opened the lockbox, got her back to base safely. But she needed a hell of a lot more. She deserved a hell of a lot more. It still hurt when he breathed but it was a different feeling.
He was fucked. For the first time, and without a doubt, he knew. So, so fucked.
Han tried getting his defenses up. He needed to rebuild that wall. Tried to remind himself that she was a stuck-up, head-up-her-ass princess. She didn't have time for a smuggler who didn't finish grade school and only had a fast but barely holding it together ship to show for a lifetime of slogging it out.
She had a boyfriend. He didn't seem all that interesting, and she didn't seem all that excited about it, but a boyfriend was a boyfriend and she didn't mention breaking up with him anytime soon. In fact, this whole business sounded like she was pretty pleased having the boyfriend around.
But Han couldn't push that wall back up. He didn't want it. He wanted Leia. All of her. He wanted her to have all of him. He had no idea what that meant, what it entailed, but anything less than everything felt wrong. How was it possible to feel like he belonged to her when she never laid claim?
Leia pulled Han's bowl closer. He watched as she picked up his spoon and started eating.
"I missed Chewie's cooking." She closed her eyes for a moment as she enjoyed the stew then smiled. "You were done with this, right?"
He was so fucked. Completely trapped and had no desire, no impulse, to escape. He suddenly knew he was exactly where he wanted to be and understood that he had actually known that for a very long time.
