Chapter Eighteen

His cabin wasn't really set up for lounging or leisure activities. It was used for sleeping and storage. He'd had the occasional guest but Han kept those to a minimum. He didn't want anything to go missing, didn't want to give anyone time to look around. Mostly, though, it was easier to leave rather than try to get someone to vacate his premises so he avoided the situation. Until Leia, he wasn't much interested in the sleepover.

He'd attached a screen at the end of his bunk so they could watch a holovid. It was Leia's idea. After three weeks together on Home One, they knew they could work together as far as the Alliance was concerned and their sex life was moving along very well, thank you very much, but it was a bit too easy to slip into fight-mode if they had too much time on their hands.

So he'd borrowed a vid—some sweeping, historical drama—from one of the techs who kept an eclectic personal library. The vid wasn't really Han's style, and maybe not Leia's either, but she thought relaxing together, enjoying a non-sex related distraction, might help them with the in-between. They were both having a bit of trouble adjusting to this new phenomenon of being together. Understanding how the new them fit into their old world.

"I'm beginning to think that Twi'lek can't be trusted." Leia was leaning up against the end of the bunk. Her knees were pulled up and leaning to the side so they rested on his lap. She held a cup of tea in both hands.

"What was the giveaway? The lurking in the shadows bit? The sinister laugh?"

"The scar across his cheek." She moved a bit closer to him, taking in more of his body heat. "And that he just sold all their secrets to their sworn enemy."

Han kissed her temple. "Very perceptive, Sweetheart. You'll figure out the politics thing in no time."

His arm rested over her shoulders, his hand gently moving up and down her bare arm. She was wearing one of his old t-shirts and leggings from her Hoth uniform. Her feet, encased in a thick pair of socks, were tucked under his thighs.

Han was wearing his usual off-white shirt and bloodstripe pants. His concession for relaxing was no vest and bare feet. She was in the habit of putting on comfortable clothes as soon she entered the cabin. She had a clear distinction between public wear, what she needed to dress in to work and live and be in the outside world and dressing as Leia behind closed doors. He'd seen her in sweatshirts or comfortable pants a few times on missions but she was usually in princess-wear when they were together. He not so secretly loved that she was relaxing more in his presence.

Of course, that didn't stop them from having a fight shortly after arriving on the frigate about the fact that Han didn't own sleep pants or anything that she would call comfy. At first, it was a joke. She mocked him, he happily played along. Then at some point, for Han it was when he realized how much he liked being a part of her private world and that she refused to acknowledge it outside the cabin, it became an argument about their socio-economic differences.

That he never had a life where he could get all comfy and read a book. Anything could happen at any time of day or night and he wasn't going to make a fast escape and attach a holster over fucking sleep pants. He didn't have storage to waste on useless items. Didn't have someone to do all his laundry and tuck his clothes neatly away. Did she think he spent his off hours—if he even had off hours—wandering through department stores and buying matching sets of sleepwear and slippers?

She pointed out that she spent years moving from base to base, the same as him, and had fewer things to call her own than he did. She didn't have the luxury of throwing her feet up on a table and dropping some witticism—perceived witticism—to throw every meeting off course. She was expected to lead and that came with responsibilities and expectations, including how she dressed and carried herself. Of course he wouldn't understand how she needed to break that wall when she was away from the spotlight and it was her mistake in thinking she could enjoy that space with him.

They both regretted the fight even before it was over but they were also still getting used to the idea of apologizing. Or at least saying the words. They were both getting very good at demonstrating they were sorry. They took to that part of their relationship pretty quickly and easily.

On Marlja, she returned to the Falcon after her meetings much later than expected but they made up for lost time and didn't waste much of it talking. Han couldn't remember the last time he was nervous about sex, probably not since he was a teenager, but he felt his heart race and worried that he would say something to distract or disarm them again.

He didn't lack confidence where sex was concerned but this one had so much build-up. He'd never been so deep in a relationship before this stage. Hell, he'd never been in this much of a relationship, period. His usual move when faced with the unknown was to barrel forward, throw caution to the wind, but he wanted to savour every moment. He needed to remember every bit.

They moved slowly over each other's bodies. Made note of every pulse and pleasure point. Listened for a change in breathing, a hitch or gasp, and soft moans. Touching, exploring, caressing. Pushing, pleading, giving without thinking beyond the two of them, in that moment, in that bunk. Undoing each other, unravelling and rebuilding, again and again. When she was sitting astride him, his hands on her hips, he paused in his thrusting to watch her unpin her braids and let her hair fall over her shoulders. He reached up to wrap a hand in her silky tresses, pull them back to expose her breasts, before taking hold of her sides again.

Han didn't put much stock in happiness, mainly because it never paid him much mind either, but he was pretty sure that's where he landed by the time they finally fell asleep.

They both wanted a tomorrow, they knew that much, but it wasn't obvious how to make that happen. Her Marlja meetings ended with a new itinerary and orders to head to another base the next morning. They had to do a bit of guess work, and hope for a touch of luck, to meet up again. They managed to find each other again twice, after three missed chances on other bases, before they decided to meet back at Home One instead.

He arrived a week before she did. He didn't know what to expect but thought it was a good sign that they let him land. He figured some people would be happy enough to see him, but was taken aback by the cheers, hugs, claps on the back he and Chewie received. He was relieved to see familiar faces. A year was a long time when at war and there were no guarantees. He missed these people, the camaraderie, more than he realized.

The reunion didn't last long before he was pulled away for a debrief. It wasn't as hard-line as he expected. He'd been working with Rieekan so they knew some of his activities already. He told them he'd run into the princess and that's how he found them again. Then he ended it all off by enlisting.

They gave him the rank of General, which seemed a bit like overkill to him, and that week without Leia was a series of briefings as he was brought up to speed. They didn't know what to do with him. Rieekan and Madine knew what he could do but the rest of High Command, and the career Generals and Admirals, could only see his smuggler past and chaotic mission history. He got the job done but almost never as planned. Rather than deal with side-eyes and suspicious glances, Han focused on whatever jobs came his way.

He spent most of his time working with pilots, training exercises, sims, contingency strategies as they considered every scenario and outcome for the upcoming showdown. And meetings. Han was suddenly in an endless stream of meetings. It wasn't exactly torture—he had first-hand knowledge of torture after his time in Jabba's Palace and cellblock—but it certainly seemed like some version of hell. It might have only been days since he joined up but Han thought he might have lost years of his life just sitting around one room then another.

He was in yet another meeting, talking, complaining about fleet formation and approaching the battle station when Leia ran into the room and he stopped mid-sentence as the sight of her.

Han thought his heart might pop out of his chest. He wondered if he'd ever truly noticed she was so striking. She'd done her hair differently. Braids tied into a bun that sat lower on her neck. She was wearing little make-up, only a light lipstick, maybe mascara. Her eyes were wide and brown and beautiful when they caught sight of each other. It was a marvel to know how she felt, her soft skin, the muscles at the small of her back. How her breath felt against his neck. The sound of her voice as she whispered his name after she came, limp and spent against his body.

He heard others welcome her back but he could only swallow, nod. He was smiling. Stunned. Didn't care if anyone noticed he was thoroughly gob-smacked at the sight of her. She quickly recovered from the shock of seeing him in the room, gave him the smallest of smiles, and took a seat near the door.

"I'm sorry I'm late. Please continue."

Han let Dodonna take over and wondered how the hell she could be late if they didn't know when she was due. Then he realized that, of course, they all knew her schedule. He was the only one left in the dark. She couldn't contact him directly and the only way to get a message to him was to admit she had a message to send. Perhaps it didn't seem like a big deal to say please tell Captain Solo but that would have been too much of a giveaway. Maybe if she knew he had enlisted. Maybe it would have seemed more natural to her to leave a message for a General.

He tried brushing it off. He didn't know what she faced in the week they'd been apart or the circumstances that brought her back to Home One. He needed to give her the benefit of the doubt. He needed to figure out how he wanted this new scenario to play out. This was going to require patience and he was really hoping that patience was a skill he could acquire.

After the meeting, they had enough time for her to say, General?, with a raised eyebrow and Han to respond, Looks that way, before she was rushed off to a closed door briefing with Mon Mothma. He did his meetings, supervised sims training for newly arrived pilots, ate dinner, helped Chewie with some X-Wing repairs and didn't cross paths with her again. There were no messages. He didn't want to ask where her quarters were, not yet anyway, and no one seemed to know her schedule. Even though he had a confirmed place in the Rebellion and an actual list of duties, he felt adrift. He was waiting, again, and couldn't decide on a next move.

He knew adrift. When he left her at the rendezvous and headed to Tatooine, he felt lost and angry. He tried to keep busy in his usual ways, working on the Falcon, modifying what didn't necessarily need modifying, but he couldn't stick with anything. His mind wandered. To Leia. Everything he should have done differently. The dim prospects he faced without her. All his bad choices. Knowing she lied about Pyrtor, hid the truth about her relationship, to avoid starting anything with Han. He thought they had an understanding but he had misread the situation.

He knew the double-cross, had his heart wrenched out before, but this was something else. He thought they were heading somewhere else. It was obviously an impossible thing, a princess and a guy like him, but he trusted his instincts, knew he was doing what felt right. Even when it felt like shit, it felt right. It wasn't destiny or some cockamamie thing. It was simply right. Good. Despite the fights and differences and experiences, they fit together. Filled in each other's missing pieces. Nothing was perfect yet he was pretty sure they were perfect for each other.

But maybe none of that was true. He had no idea how deep her lies went. He thought, through everything, he was witness to the real Leia but maybe she was only showing him a different facade. And he fell for it like a sucker. Fell deep. Fell hard. All those missing pieces opened up again and he felt a hollow sadness that actually hurt.

When he couldn't work, when he was worn down with rehashing things over and over again, he slept. Han had never slept so much in his life. He'd never felt the need to shut down completely before. To not have some scheme, however ill-advised, that would finally turn things around for him. He lost days in his bunk as Chewie kept things running and worked out the final details of their Jabba plan.

After wandering around the ship for a while, Han found a card game in the hanger. Wedge and Tycho and a few others he didn't know. Han had been gone a year and with the fleet assembling Rebels from bases across the galaxy, there were a lot of beings he didn't know. Too many of them, knowing him only as a General and not the smuggler and ad hoc Rebel, called him Sir and even saluted whenever they saw him. That was exactly the kind of behaviour he was hoping to avoid.

"Gonna pull up a chair, Solo?" Wedge nodded to Han. "My apologies… General."

Han scowled at his fellow Corellian then nodded to Tycho.

"Kagar, here, might have played himself out."

The Tosdar sitting across from Wedge threw his cards on the table. He ran a hand through this short dark fur and scowled. "I don't trust that randomizer."

"If you can't play the cards dealt," the woman sitting beside Kagar laughed. "Then you can't play the game."

Kagar pushed his chair back and stood up. "Don't got time for this anyway."

There was a chorus of fake sympathy from the table and a few onlookers. Kagar waved a dismissive hand but also gave a begrudging smile. He held the chair out for Han.

"Got nothing going tonight, General?" Wedge kept the mocking tone as he collected the cards. "Don't you usually have something more important to occupy your time these days?"

"What's more important, or fun, than taking all your credits." Han nodded to the woman beside him as she held up a bottle of rhum, offering him a glass. "Been awhile. Hope you didn't miss me too much."

"Let's see if you used up all that Solo luck getting rid of your Hutt." Wedge started dealing the cards. "Maybe you'll finally put that ship of yours up."

The table quickly fell into an easy banter. Tycho and Wedge ran the table, acted like hosts and kept the conversation light. The other guy at the table was familiar. Han had seen him around the hanger, mostly checking out the iFalcon/i, asking a few too many questions. Han figured the guy was curious and probably heard a lot of stories about his baby but, Rebel or not, the new guy still needed to prove himself worthy.

He'd never seen the woman, Lethel, before but he guessed she was a mech or pilot. She was wearing a tank top, exposing grease-stained arms, with the top of her coveralls hanging by her waist. Her long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She was a good player and had already managed to win a couple hands. Not as many as he did but she was solid competition.

"You're not living up to the stories, General." She tossed in her credits for the next round. "You're supposed to be the one to beat. Guess that was before you got the bars."

"Night's not over." Han threw his credits in and leaned back in his chair.

She poured him more rhum. "No, it's not."

"This game's not over until I at least break even." Tycho tapped the deck to get everyone's attention.

"We don't got that long, Celchu." Han grumbled. "Still got a war to win."

Over the next few hours beings came and went, joined in the game or took up a spectator seat. Han had to deal with a lot of questions about his time away, and Wedge dropped a few of hints looking for info about what was going on with the princess, but he dodged them all.

He found himself missing Luke. The kid had a way of making things easy. It was comfortable. Felt like family was supposed to feel. It was good being back but strange not having the kid there. All the Rogues agreed with Leia's assessment that it was a different Luke who returned for those few weeks. He had less wide-eyed enthusiasm. Seemed more assured, calm. They were all confused about when Luke might return. It was hard to believe he might miss the Death Star battle.

"Crap. What's High Command's stance on gambling?" Lethel shifted in her chair and concentrated on her cards.

"Depends. Rieekan pays his IOUs." Tycho laughed. "Not sure if I'd trust Madine. Corellians are shifty."

"Looking to get on that early morning run, Celchu?" Wedge eyed the Alderaanian. "Don't forget the Corellians are running your flight schedule."

"See?" Tycho picked up two cards. "Shifty."

Han laughed. He exchanged a card and took a drink. His hand didn't look too promising but things turned around all the time. The cards could go either way.

"Keep your spirits up, boys." Lethel finished her drink in a single gulp as though it might soon be confiscated. "I think the fun's coming to a halt."

Han watched Lethel sit up and offer an officious and plastered on smile.

"Good evening, Your Highness."

Han noticed that Lethel seemed a bit surprised that no one else was thrown off-kilter by Leia's arrival. She watched, almost suspiciously, as Leia put a hand on the back of Wedge's chair and everyone said hello. He waited until the end to offer his single nod and simple, "Princess."

"What do you say, Leia?" Wedge looked back at her. "You want in for a hand? There's always room for you. Plus, Tycho's about to fold."

"Shove it, Antilles." Tycho put on an irritated voice but then dropped his cards to the table.

Han took note how Lethel reacted to Wedge saying Leia and not an honorific. Leia was the face of the Rebellion, hero of the Death Star battle, member of High Command, the last princess of Alderaan. Lethel didn't know how to act around the icon. She clearly didn't trust how Wedge and Tycho talked to her. Lethel acted like it might be a trap.

"Thanks, Wedge. I'm just passing through."

Leia was smiling, chatting with the Rogues. They all looked relaxed, happy for a quick check-in, but Han could see her shoulders were stiff and straight. She still had perfect posture. Her laugh was careful. Her eyes alert but tired. She was still a leader, a public figure, in charge. She still wasn't the Leia he'd come to know. The one who stretched out on his bunk and exposed all her vulnerable bits, laughed with embarrassment when telling a story or got excited about a dumb chrono game he invented to keep her distracted.

He kept himself steady and cool as he felt his chest expand. A warmth rushed through him. This beautiful, smart, kick-ass incredible woman made the ridiculous choice to let him in. She chose him for the quiet bits. Opened up to him. Let him open up to her. Han felt like so much of his life had been one mistake or wrong turn after another but somehow he ended up here. With her. It seemed like more than luck but still nothing he could name.

"Try to make Alderaan proud, Tycho. Don't let the Corellians take all the glory."

Leia smiled at Tycho, nodded to others at the table before walking away.

"No pressure there, Princess!" Tycho called after her and shook his head. Lethel gave him a playful punch in the arm.

Wedge looked at the game's spectators. "Anyone else want in? Chair's freeing up."

"You quitting Celchu?" Lethel refilled her glass and offered more to Han. "Letting Antilles scare you off?"

"We're losing the General."

She followed Wedge's nod to look at Han, her bottle still hovering over his glass. He didn't bother looking at her as he picked up his remaining credits.

"See you at training tomorrow morning, Solo." Wedge raised his own glass to Han.

He nodded at Wedge as he stood up. He didn't look back as he followed Leia's path toward the Falcon but heard Lethel ask for a follow-up.

"What's that about?"

"We don't ask questions." Wedge laughed. "But there's a pool going if you want in."

He found her in his cabin. She was undressing, suddenly looking very tired and definitely not up for the fight he'd been planning. He had a few scripts in his head, lines he'd been preparing throughout the day. Sarcastic jabs to remind her they needed to set some ground rules and he wasn't that into sneaking around but he kissed her instead.

It was a slow welcoming kiss with both hands cupping her face.

"It's good to see you, Sweetheart."

He helped her undress. Peeled off her shirt then pants then slowly unpinned her braids. Leia sighed, gave a small smile, as he kissed her in between each action. Laid her back on the bunk. Continued to kiss his way down and across her body. He was past worrying about how often and when they talked throughout the day, only remembering that he missed her and needed to taste her and feel her warmth against him, and made her come twice before he took his boots off.

When he was stuck in Jabba's cell, Han's survival instincts kicked in. He was brought out to the throne room every so often so Jabba could demonstrate his power, what he could do to any errant smuggler who thought they could get away with not paying debts. Han knew the Hutt wanted him to beg for his life, clemency, but he didn't give in. Bit down the pain as best he could and kept up the routine that Jabba was missing out on a great opportunity by not taking Han up on his offer.

Han worked the guards when they brought him to and from the cell or the slaves when they brought him food. Reminded them that he always treated them well. Threw them extra tips whenever he had the credits. Brought in booze for them. Took messages out to families. He was surprised when a few of the slaves asked, keeping their voices in low whispers, if it was true he was working with the Rebellion. He recognized the small spark of hope they still had in their eyes. Small but it was there.

At first, he tried to not think about Leia. Focused on convincing Jabba to accept his plan. Counted the days until Chewie arrived with more credits and hoped Jabba was ready to make a deal by then. But he couldn't escape her. Couldn't push her from his mind. He dreamt about her. She was the first thing he thought about when he woke up. The last before he fell asleep.

He thought about the look she gave him every time he suggested an alternate solution to a mission. A look of are you kidding with this right now? amazement. He thought about her laugh, her look of fury and frustration, concern when he was hurt, scared when blaster fire came their way. That she would never back down if she could help anyone. That her hands were so small and fit perfectly in his.

So, he leaned into it. Let thoughts of Leia keep him moving. Pushing him to get free, get out. Maybe they weren't going to be together but she was out there somewhere and knowing he was, at least, in the same universe of Leia was good enough. She inspired him to be brave, not simply reckless. She asked him to be present, to care, and even though he fought it almost every step of the way, he realized it wasn't necessarily a bad way to be.

Leia had to disclose their relationship to High Command. It was about transparency and ensuring there was no conflict of interest. People were going to find out because, in theory, they weren't hiding anything. They were simply working on the premise that it wasn't anyone else's business. Nothing had to change as far as the rest of the Alliance was concerned. Their private life, their growing relationship, had nothing to do their work, the Rebellion or anyone beyond Chewie and Luke. It was the speech she gave High Command and the one she gave Han anytime he was irritated if she said they shouldn't hold hands in public.

"I'm not after handholding, Princess." He almost sneered. Han Solo wasn't a handholding kind of guy. Was he? He didn't used to be. "It's the principle of the thing."

"You want to hold my hand in principle?"

"Yeah." He felt a flash of nerves. He was heading down the wrong path. "No. I mean you go out of your way to prove there's nothing between us."

She kept her distance if they walked down a corridor together. Never sat beside him at a meeting or in the mess hall. Didn't want to be seen walking on and off the Falcon together. He'd only been to her quarters once and that practically took a reconnaissance team to keep it quiet.

"I do no such thing." Leia kept her voice calm. They'd already had this argument a few times and neither one was willing to budge. "I was raised with very strict rules concerning public behaviour. If this is to continue, those are the rules you must follow."

If things were going to work, he'd have to learn to live with Leia's rules. Not like she was going to suddenly rewire because they were trying to make this happen. And he was giving this a go because of her and who she was and this was a part of her. She was royalty. A Senator. A leader. He knew all of this going in. None of it was a surprise.

He never knew quite how he was going to react. Sometimes everything was perfectly fine and they followed their routine of some meetings together and a lot of the day apart then she arrived at the Falcon at night. They recapped the day, argued about what was next, made love, slept, started all over again.

Sometimes they had a row about some seemingly inconsequential thing (see ownership of comfy pants) or an argument that extended from an earlier Alliance meeting that they both refused to let go of. Han knew that more often than not he was picking the fights. Pushing her buttons. Demanding a reaction.

He found himself getting angry, even though they hadn't discussed sleeping arrangements and whether they stayed on the Falcon or if he should follow her to her quarters or even if she wanted to spend every night with him, if didn't know what was happening. He was angry that he expected her to be in his bunk and angry that she didn't ask him to come to hers and angry that he cared so much about the arrangements and angry that he didn't know how to bring up the conversation without sounding needy. He did need her. He knew it and was pretty sure that she knew it so if she wasn't waiting for him and didn't invite him to come to her then she must not want it in the same way he did.

Because the actual shocker was that somewhere along the line it was his wiring that got all messed up and he was suddenly the guy who wanted to walk around with his arm slung over his girl's shoulders. Place a hand on her lower back when they stood in a group. Sit close to her in a meeting and whisper in her ear. And yeah, he wanted to hold her hand. He wanted to hold her hand in public so everyone could see they were together and he didn't think that should be such a big fucking deal.

"I got more action with you when we weren't together." He was practically muttering. He knew he wasn't going to win this fight. "Definitely gonna be no rumours about us now."

"That's part of the point." She sighed. She was tired of going through everything again. "Also, I'd prefer if people discussed my work and contributions to the upcoming campaign and not who I am sleeping with."

Han could see that as an advantage for him, as well. He didn't need anyone claiming he'd slept his way to a General's commission or that he hadn't earned his place at the table.

"And let's not forget the not so small matter of my last relationship causing security and information breaches that possibly endangered the entire Rebellion. I'm not sure if everyone looks too kindly on my choices for romantic partners."

"Pretty sure that's not High Command's issue with me."

Until joining up and getting tagged with General, Han didn't have much to do with Mothma and some of the others. A few big briefings here and there but not a lot of interactions that required eye contact. It was possible that Dodonna would've given him the side-eye even if he wasn't sleeping with Leia. It was also possible that Han wasn't imagining things when the old man made a point of steering Leia away from Han in groups. Or didn't look at him when Han made perfectly reasonable suggestions in meetings. Sure, Han scoffed or rolled his eyes a few times when options were discussed but he was being pretty respectful for the most part. Well, respectful for Han Solo. He knew he had to play along. He understood the game.

He figured they'd ask him to lead the assault on the Death Star. He'd been in those trenches before, after all. One of only three Rebels left who flew in that battle. He was a pilot. The Falcon was a damn fast ship. But he was spending more time with Madine working on the ground assault and was surprised how much he liked it.

Han hated the time he spent in the infantry, being a grunt following officers' asinine commands. Flying, being his own boss, swooping in and out of trouble was more his style. But this one felt different and Madine was listening to him like an equal who had something valuable to contribute, not some interloper trying to mock or mess with well-laid plans.

Han had always had a bit of a chip on his shoulder about Madine being an upper crust Corellian, far removed from Han's street-level experience. Yet none of that seemed to matter when they were holed up in Madine's small Home One office, drinking whisky and arguing over every detail of the mission. Han could bring in his knowledge of military campaigns, cos as much as he wanted to forget his time at the Academy somethings were lodged in his brain, and his years of pulling scams, sneaking in and out of well-fortified buildings, and being creative in the moment. He was contributing. He was making a difference. And when he walked out of the meeting feeling chuffed, almost excited about what could best be described as a suicide-mission, he wanted to talk to Leia.

Finding her on the Falcon waiting for him, her hair up in a messy bun, t-shirt and leggings on, reminded him that this was right. Their pieces were fitting together. It was the glow of a new relationship and intensity of knowing they could make this work. It was possible.

They ate dinner, talked about their days, argued through details from all their meetings. They went to bed and made love, a fun, slightly frantic session, then talked some more. He somehow ended up telling her things he remembered about his mother. How shitty he felt, maybe still feels, about coming home with a bloody lip from a fight and how she cried as she fixed him up. He hated making her life harder when all he wanted was to save her from it but he kept fucking up and being too much like his father and that was the worst thing he could be. Leia, her head resting on his chest, her hand drawing patterns along his torso, said his mother probably wanted the same thing. To save him from that life. Leia reminded Han that he didn't end up like his father and that would have made his mother proud. They made love again, this time with Leia on top so he could watch her, then fell asleep. They woke up before the alarm to a sleepy, almost subconscious joining that filled him with such an intense feeling that he couldn't explain but somehow knew, This is it. This is everything he wanted and everything he didn't even know existed. He couldn't have imagined that it was waiting for him. That he could ever claim it. He definitely didn't know how to hang on. Things were fleeting. People leave, they die, they move on. He was suddenly worried that if this moment broke he'd never have another chance.

Han tried to convince her to stay. Spend a few more hours with him, maybe the morning. He'd make it worth her while. He played like it was all about sex (and that wasn't a complete lie) but he'd have been perfectly happy if she slept. Or pulled out her datapad and worked. He only wanted to protect this space, keep it whole. He still felt raw from admitting so much and he still felt the safety and warmth of her words. She played along for a bit, laughed at what she called his increasingly insane plans, as she dressed but she had no intention of staying past her meeting times.

So, he did what he knew best and picked a fight. And Leia did what she knew best and took the bait. He attacked High Command's plan for troop deployment post-Endor and, since it coincided with her work with Outer Rim bases, she fought back with gusto. They made their way through the hanger to the mess, arguing, almost shouting, as everyone around them rolled their eyes and stepped aside. The chaos of the fight was familiar. He could hold on to it. Know it was real.

He didn't like knowing he understood chaos better than calm. It was Chewie's theory all along and Han didn't like admitting the Wookiee was right. But he also knew it also meant he could be there for Leia in ways that no one else could. He could read her signals and knew when he needed to act. That was something that hadn't changed, had only deepened since they admitted their connection and probably since they started having sex. And as much as he wanted to respect her boundaries, and he truly did, he wasn't going to watch her suffer. Wait for her to crack.

They'd been discussing the Death Star in a meeting for hours. Since he and Leia were the only ones present who had been on the first one, it was up to them to describe the interior. The Rebels needed to understand the layout if any of them ended up on board. Han and Leia answered all the questions they could. How corridors met up with foyers. Lifts and stairways. Placements of vents and hatches and the damned garbage chutes. Han remembered most of it pretty clearly, that's how his memory worked. Kept things locked and loaded if he needed them and carefully tucked away if he didn't.

But it was different for Leia. They were more than memories for her. They were a living, breathing nightmare. She described getting from the detention block to bridge and he knew she was walking from a torture cell to the last time she saw Alderaan, her last moment of knowing her parents were alive. He knew how real these moments still were for her because he slept beside her. He woke to her whimpers and thrashing limbs. He stoked her hair, her cheek, gently reminding her where she was and that he was with her. Trying to ease her back into her waking life and save her from one more jolt, yet another time when she was thrust into the unexpected.

Han suspected that no one else in the meeting recognized the signs of Leia barely holding it together. Even Rieekan pressed on, asking another question, then a follow-up. She didn't break, didn't quiver. Answered every question then offered more information. He waited it out, kept his patience, and as soon as the meeting was over he got her out of the room.

She argued at first. Insisted she was perfectly fine. She was expected elsewhere and didn't have time for his tactics. He kept a hand on her lower back as he steered her through the corridors, into the hanger and on to the Falcon. When they got inside, she switched to furious. There was absolutely nothing wrong and he was being overly dramatic. Per usual. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself and knowing how much she could handle.

He sat on the edge of his bunk as she paced and ranted, just as he did on bases when she needed to vent her frustrations about High Command and all the pressures she felt as princess and leader. He waited for her to slow down then come to a halt, stand in place with her hands on her hips. He watched as her breathing slowed but her eyes filled up with tears. He sighed when she finally stepped into his arms and tucked her head into the side of his neck.

He held her tight for the rest of the day as she sobbed more than she spoke. Then held her through the night as she curled up into his side and he whispered promises as she slept, to protect and love her, to be her strength when she needed it, to hold her. Always.

During his year away, Han never lost sight of Leia. Never forgot she was out there, somewhere. He kept her with him even it only felt like hurt. Every once in a while he tried pushing her aside, tried forgetting her, but it never lasted because he didn't want it to. There was some part of Han's brain that finally realized he needed to keep the pain of losing Leia if he wanted to remember loving her. If he hid the bad memories he'd lose the good ones too. He couldn't have one without the other and he needed that love. Maybe she didn't love him back but loving her had changed him and had to be good enough.

Then they found each on Marlja and he knew she needed him, too. He wasn't in it alone. They were better together. They made the choice to be together. But there was something, a switch that flipped too easily, that shot Han from soothed to angry in moments and often left him thinking he'd lost his damn mind.

They had an argument in the mess hall that started with Leia saying she didn't like baked tuber pie and ended with Han claiming the Rebellion was slowing trying to poison their troops with outdated rations. Leia stormed out and he followed, planning to bring up a few more examples of the Alliance's supply chain problems, when she spun around in the corridor and held her hands up in front of her.

"Hold it!" Her face was flush with anger but she kept her voice even. "We need a break from this. It's too much."

Han's jaw dropped. His forehead creased in a scowl but he couldn't find his words right away.

"We need to do something other than fight and…" She gave a quick look around to make sure no one was close. "Have sex. Find something that's relaxing to do together."

His scowl continued.

"Find something that isn't going to piss you off." She turned to walk away. "I could use a little more middle ground."

Enter the borrowed holovid and costume drama and relaxing on his bunk together. She had her tea. He had a glass of whisky. He was enjoying her snuggled into his side. He liked their running commentary on the overblown dialogue and plot. She was right on this one. It was fun to simply be together.

They were moments away from what Han assumed was meant to be an exciting conclusion when Leia let out a gasp. Her hand quickly covered her mouth as she tried to contain her surprise.

"You okay?" He nudged her shoulder and couldn't hold in a smile. She looked shocked and adorable. A great combination in his mind.

"I didn't realize…" She turned to look at him as her face reddened in embarrassment.

"Didn't realize what?" Han was laughing now.

"Nothing." She bit her lip and turned back to the screen.

Han paused the holovid. "C'mon. Finish your thought. What didn't you realize?"

She bit the inside of her cheek. Tried to keep her focus on the screen even though it was paused. She looked like she couldn't decide if she wanted to join in on the laughter or ignore this incident all together.

"Were you surprised by that big reveal?" He jostled her shoulders again, trying to get her to look at him. "Did you not know that the Count and the assassin were the same person?"

Her cheeks somehow turned a deeper shade of red. She bit her bottom lip again trying to hold back her slight smile. When she spoke, her voice was small.

"But the assassin had a moustache."

He couldn't hold it in any longer. Han's head fell back as he released a loud laugh. Leia pulled away from him to sit up straighter against the bulkhead.

"Okay, I think you're having a bit too much fun."

"Need to write this one down." He made a show of looking around the cabin. "Gotta record this one for posterity."

"You're making a big deal out of nothing. I simply didn't notice it was the same actor."

"Sweetheart, you're trained in espionage. You go out into the field to meet contacts and spies on a regular basis. You didn't notice a guy was wearing a very fake 'stache."

She looked pouty and shy again. "He also had a different… part… in his hair." Her sentence lost steam even as she was speaking.

Han was actually holding his stomach now, trying to control the laughter.

"Again, you're overreacting." Leia took a deep breath and straightened her back. "You should move on."

"No way!" He managed to get himself under control. "This is staying on the books. You're gonna have to live with this for the rest of our lives cos I'm never let this one go."

He only realized what he said, that he planned on spending the rest of his life with her, when she cocked her head at him. Narrowed her eyes. Han reacted before he could decide if she was giving him a smirk, a look of consternation or if she was pleased.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, your Highness." He turned the holovid back on. "No one's gonna question your leadership skills."

Han took his glass of whisky from the shelf and drank more than a sip. He kept his eyes on the screen and didn't attempt to pull her back in to his side. He didn't turn to look at her but knew she hadn't moved. She was still staring at him.

"Why do you do that?"

"What?" He put the glass back on the shelf then crossed his arms.

Leia took the remote control and stopped the holovid again. She waited for him to look at her.

"Why do you have to make it so difficult?"

"Me? What have I done?"

"It was a nice night. Very nice." She moved on the bunk so she was facing him. "You say something sweet and then turn on me."

"I didn't turn on you, Leia." He turned back to the frozen screen. "And you didn't look like you thought it was so sweet."

"You're like one of my aunt's pittins. Everything would be good. Pets. Cuddles. Belly rubs."

"You're comparing me to a pittin who likes belly rubs?"

"Everything would be perfectly nice then he'd attack for no apparent reason."

Han let his head fall back against the bulkhead. "No reason's a bit convenient for you."

"I honestly thought we were past all this." Her jaw was clenched but her eyes looked more hurt than angry.

"Didn't mean anything by it." He cleared his throat. He could handle angry. He expected it. But sad Leia was a lot.

"Then you were being mean for no reason."

"You think I'm mean?"

"No." She shook her head. "I don't think you're mean. I was shocked by what you said not upset. We haven't talked about what things mean long term."

"And who's fault is that?"

"Are you saying it's my fault? I don't recall you starting the conversation or revealing your deepest feelings."

"I just said I wanted to spend my life with you!"

"You accidentally mentioned it in the guise of a joke!" There was a lot less sad in her eyes and a lot more mad. "How was I supposed to take it? How would I know it was a genuine statement?"

"Because I've spent so much time feeding you lines." He leaned back, crossed his arms over his chest, affecting a casual look that actually said tense, coiled, ready to spring. "Sounds like me."

"It would help if you would say what you're thinking. These obtuse comments are not helping the matter. I would prefer to not have to guess at your meaning."

"You're clever. You can figure it out."

"Ahhh!" She dropped her head in her hands. "See! This is what I mean about being difficult! You're talking in circles and expect me to follow along. Something pissed you off. Tell me what it is and maybe we can deal with it."

"Can we just finish this holovid?" He turned back to the screen and hit play. "I don't want to talk about this right now."

She grabbed the control again and hit pause. "I do want to talk. Now."

"Guess that's that then. Leia always gets what she wants."

"Now you're just being an asshole."

He felt bad about that one. There were too many things that Leia didn't get, that she lost, for that not to be a too close, too painful, comment.

"Just drop it, Leia."

"No." She assumed the position, dropping her hands into her lap. "If it's true you want to spend the rest of your life with me, you have to recognize that reacting to every overwhelming emotion with a fight isn't the way to move ahead. So, tell me. What's your fucking problem?"

He almost laughed. She didn't swear often and it always gave him a bit of a thrill when she did. Even when she was mad and directing it at him.

"I don't know." He did want to spend the rest of her life with him. He wanted her to want the same thing. "I don't know what you want. Think it's making me a bit crazy."

"I'll talk about this. Us. I thought you wanted to take things slow. Not think much beyond tomorrow until things are more stable."

"I didn't say anything about stable. Not sure what that would even look like."

She nodded. She remembered stable but that felt like several lifetimes ago.

"Is this about how to behave in public? That I prefer to keep things quiet?"

"No. Yes. I don't know." He closed his eyes for a moment. Tried to recenter himself. "I don't mind quiet. Honest. I like all of this. Everything. Us together. Just. There's this bit. Maybe it's not real."

"You don't think this is real?"

"You lied, Leia!" He didn't mean to shout. He took another deep breath. "I know this is real. I know it's good. Right. But how am I gonna know when it changes?"

Han could feel his face getting flush. It was a mix of anger, frustration, maybe embarrassment. Too many emotions happening at once.

"I get that you need to keep things private. Separate. I'm okay with that part. But all these things were going on with Pyrtor, or not going on, and you kept it all tight and locked away. How do I know you're not doing that now? Or will sometime?"

"There are lots of things you keep locked away. You've revealed very little about your life before we met."

"But I'm not hiding stuff that has anything to do with you! Not really. Not anymore."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Okay, fine, there's room for improvement but I've been trying." He shrugged. "And I've told you things I've never said out loud before. Even to Chewie."

"Do you trust me?"

"I trust you." He'd lost all his anger. He felt exhausted. Han wished there was a way to go back however many minutes to laughing about her inability to recognize simple disguises. "I love you, Leia."

She kept her perfect posture. Her hands clasped in her lap. He noticed the tears starting to well in her eyes.

"I really fucking love you, Leia. I'm here for the long haul. For everything. You are everything." He thought about reaching for her hand but wanted to give her the space she needed. "I don't know. Maybe I don't trust myself. I didn't see the signs before. That you were keeping stuff locked in. Maybe I won't notice them next time. Hard to see the top when you're so deep in it. When you don't want to be anywhere else."

Leia blinked and tears rolled down her cheeks but she didn't move. Only a slight quiver of her chin.

He gave her a small half-smile, hoping it looked encouraging and not regretful. If something needed doing, if Leia needed anything, he acted. He jumped into the fray. Ran at Stormtroopers in the Death Star corridor. Ran interference in the midst of an Imperial attack. Got her out of the meeting room when he knew she needed to cry. Made love to her when he couldn't quite say the words yet.

This time he tried for the words. He didn't feel entirely confident that they were the right ones but they were the ones that came out and he wasn't going to regret them.

She wiped away her tears and took a deep breath.

"I promise." She took his hand, laced their fingers together. "Our relationship, what we're sharing, figuring out, is nothing like my relationship with Pyrtor. Which, to be honest, was barely a relationship. I promise I'm not hiding anything. I'm still processing. We both have a lot to figure out as far as being in a relationship is concerned and I'm sure that will include a few stumbles along the way. But I promise, I'm in it for the long haul." She emphasized that last bit and he smiled. "I love you. I want us to discover what it means to be us. Decide what works for us. That may take a bit of time. I anticipate a few more arguments. But perhaps as we move along, and either one of us feels that switch that sends us into fight-mode, we can take a breath and maybe not chose the overreacting option."

"That seems like a lot to ask."

Leia laughed. "Fair enough."

She leaned in and, with a hand on his cheek, kissed him.

"Do you still want to finish?" He nodded toward the screen.

Leia gave a soft laugh. "No."

She swung a leg over and straddled his lap. Her arms went around his neck and his on her hips. They kissed again.

It was intimate, loving, but Han didn't know if it was a lead-in to sex as much as a need for connection. To make sure they were both on the same page. It didn't feel like they were starting over or doing a reset. It felt like even ground. Solid. They could go anywhere from here.

"Oh, and one more thing." Leia leaned back, smiled, and put her hands on his pant waistband. Gave a small tug. "I'm buying you sleep pants and you're going to have to deal with it."

His full-blown grin was back as he tightened his grip around her waist and quickly flipped her onto her back. She laughed as she landed on the bunk and he rested on top of her.

"Fine." He nipped at her neck. "But that means you're gonna have to sit next to me in a meeting and pretend you know me."

They didn't bother turning off the holo-player or turning down the lights. They left the glass of whisky and cup of tea on the shelf. They had the time to deal with all of that later. They had a today, tomorrow and maybe, hopefully, a lifetime to get to all the little things.