A/N: Refer to previous chapters for author's notes. I hate being repetitive.

"Are you quite alright, Mistress Leia?"
"I'm fine." Leia zipped her duffel bag with unholy zeal, threw it on the floor, and started throwing clothes into the next bag. "Don't call me Mistress."

"What would you prefer that I call you?"

"Augh. I don't care." She continued packing her belongings with inhuman speed.

"Would 'your highness' suffice?" the droid prompted.

"Fine."

Threepio stared at her, arms posed in that peculiar way that made him look continually surprised. "Begging your pardon, your highness, but you do appear rather upset. Are you sure there's nothing I can do?"

Leia stopped what she was doing, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Threepio waited.

"Why don't you plug yourself in to the holonet and get an upgrade for the trip. Make sure you get a patch for vernacular Bothan."

"Right away, your highness."

When the droid was gone, Leia heaved a sigh of relief and sat down on her cot. Of all the rotten luck, why? Why? What had she ever done to deserve being stuck with Han Solo? Her stomach fluttered nervously, and she made an effort to calm herself down. Okay. How bad could it be? He was bound to be occupied with the temperamental Falcon a large part of the time, and she would be busy the entire way there studying up on Bothan culture and government. Still, the two of them would be stuck together with just Chewie and Threepio as alternative company. The wookiee wasn't much for conversation, but maybe they could play board games or something. Leia hoped they'd be leaving the droid switched off.

The solution to this dilemma was to stay away from Han as much as possible by keeping busy and maintaining professional courtesy. They were going on a mission, after all, not a pleasure outing. On the way back, she could stay out of the way under the pretense of preparing a summary for the commanders. That would only take half a day, but she could stretch it out. With a little planning, the trip wouldn't be that bad. Besides, her focus should be on the Bothans, not on Han Solo. Mentally chiding herself for letting personal matters interfere with her work once again, Leia resumed packing her things in a slightly saner fashion than before.

"Tell me about it, Chewie, I feel like my head just hit the pillow," Han griped as the duo made their way up the gangplank of the Falcon. It was around four in the morning local time, and they had been summoned from their quarters with urgency to prep the ship for immediate takeoff. "What's with these military types and doing everything at the asscrack of dawn anyway?"

"Common sense," Leia interjected, coming up behind them struggling with her luggage. "The earlier you get up in the morning, the bigger the head start on the enemy."

"Yeah well, what if the enemy stays up late and kills you in your sleep?" Han retorted. Chewie, ignoring him, growled a soft hello to the princess and took her bags from her.

"Thank you, Chewie," she said with overemphasized politeness. She turned back to Han, who had started up the ship's engine and was working at the control panel. "The Empire is not the bunch of bounty hunters, pirates and thieves you're used to."

Han paused in his preflight diagnostics and looked up at her indignantly. "You tryin' to say they're better than me?"

"Of course not. I'm only –"

"Kids, kids, it's too early to start bickering," Rieekan's voice preceded his entry into the control room. He was smiling broadly and looking far more energetic than anyone his age, or any age for that matter, had a right to be at this time of the morning.

"Good morning, general," Leia greeted him.

"Mornin'," Han greeted, less appropriately.

"I wanted to see you off personally," he said, looking each of them in the eye in turn. "Yours is the first mission out, but the Rogues will be leaving immediately after. Commander Skywalker asked me to relay his goodbye to you both."

"We appreciate your coming to tell us, general," Leia said before Han had a chance to open his mouth. "Please give Luke and Rogue Squadron our regards."

"Of course. Do you have any last-minute questions or concerns?"

"None," Leia said.

"Yeah," Han said at the same time. "I haven't seen the Falcon in her costume. How's she look?"

Leia cleared her throat and raised her eyebrows, obviously biting back a delicious remark about Han's ship.

"Worse than usual, believe it or not," Rieekan replied, noting the princess' expression with a gleam in his eye.

"You're in rare form this morning, general," Han deadpanned.

Rieekan laughed and stuck his hands in the pockets of his flight suit. "She looks like she's supposed to," he said. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear myself there was an Old Republic relic of a cargo ship in my hangar bay."

"Good," Han said. "Then we're ready to fly."

"I'll leave you to it. May the force be with you."

"You too, General Rieekan."

Han turned back to his preflight sequence, Chewie joining him in the copilot seat. Leia stood there with her arms crossed, watching. Han felt her silent presence behind him and waited for whatever snippy remark she was bound to think up.

"Can I help you with something, your highness?" he finally asked.

"I was just watching Chewie. Is that a problem?" she challenged.

"Not at all," Han replied, clearly meaning the opposite.

Chewbacca sighed internally at the antipathy that practically dripped from their voices. It was going to be a long trip.

Things had improved slightly by early afternoon, when Han had consumed a few cups of coffee and Leia had taken an unplanned nap. They ate lunch together in relative silence, Leia reading over her data pad while Han drummed his fingers on the wall.

"This isn't going at all like I planned," the smuggler confessed to his copilot afterward.

What did you expect? Chewie asked.

"After the other night? A little civility maybe?"

What happened the other night?

"I told you… we just talked," Han said defensively.

Chewie snorted in disbelief.

"It's the truth!"

Then you must have said something to piss her off, Chewie said. She's been avoiding you ever since.

"Well what doesn't piss her off?"

Luke doesn't piss her off.

"Some friend you are," Han said, sulking. "She has been avoiding me though, hasn't she?" She had even tried to get out of going on this mission with him.

So, what happened the other night?

After looking around to make sure Leia wasn't about to materialize behind him, he told Chewie about his confrontation of the princess.

"See? I didn't do anything wrong," Han concluded.

The wookiee pondered this for a moment. It doesn't sound like you did, he said.

"Thank you."

You'd be a pretty big jerk to pressure her now, though, Chewie continued.

"Pressure? Pressure. I'm pressuring her."

Not yet, but knowing you…

"This is different," Han said. "She's different." Han grasped for words, but found none to explain himself any further. "All I want from her is to be treated like an equal."

But Han, she's royalty.

"So? She's a human being. She's a woman, I'm a man. She doesn't have to look down on everybody just because she's a princess- I mean, you or I could have just as easily been born into wealth and power."

"Actually, I was adopted," Leia interjected, coming up suddenly behind him. "And I don't look down on you, or anyone else, Captain Solo."

"Is that so?" Han challenged, recovering quickly from putting his foot in his mouth. He wondered how much of the conversation she'd overheard.

"Yes, it is. I give orders because I'm put in a position of power, but I respect everyone from Mon Mothma down to the lowest ranking new recruit. Everyone has volunteered their lives for a cause they believe in, and that commands respect from me."

Well, this was new. He stood and faced her, staring down directly into her eyes. "So… you respect me?"

The princess pursed her lips for a moment before replying. "Of course I do. Most of the time, anyway."

Don't jump on the 'most of the time,' Chewie warned under his breath, while Han stood momentarily speechless.

"Most of the time, huh?" he asked. Chewie loosed a sigh of frustration beside him and turned to the ship's controls, tuning out the rest of the conversation.

"Yes. When you're thinking of anybody beside yourself, for example."

"I think about other people," Han reassured her.

"That's what I just said."

"I heard what you said."

"Don't let it go to your head," she snorted.

"Do you have any other examples?" Han pressed.

"When you're not leering, invading my personal space, and pushing your luck," Leia said pointedly.

A wide grin crossed Han's face, and he took a step back in concession. "Would it be an invasion of your 'personal space' if we had dinner together?" he asked.

"As long as you can manage to behave yourself," she said, "that would be fine."

"I can do that."

"I'll believe that when I see it."

"Fair enough. See you at dinner then. 1900."

"See you at dinner."

There was nothing of value in the Falcon's hold. Han scowled. All he could produce from storage were a few packages of frighteningly old military rations with lies for expiration dates. They'd have to make do with the on-board food replicator, which was a dubious improvement over expired rations at best. Han could've kicked himself for his lack of planning. Then again, there wasn't much to be had back on Hoth either, or he'd have known about it. Planning wouldn't have made a difference.

With a sputter, the food replicator expelled a glob of glutinous yellow substance he couldn't identify. He dipped a finger in it and brought the finger to his lips; the hopeful expression on his face disappeared into a wince and he scraped his tongue with his teeth. Whatever it was tasted like grease mixed with salt and burnt sugar. This was probably not going to win any compliments from the princess. Han rolled up his sleeves and went to work on the machine with gusto. He had an hour to manifest an edible dinner; it would take a miracle.

You didn't check it before we left? Chewbacca asked unhelpfully some time later.

"Of course I checked it before we left," Han lied. "Now it won't even spit out that yellow crap anymore."

Maybe you should stop playing with it, Chewie suggested. We have food in the back, don't we?

"I wouldn't call that food," Han grumbled in response. He had been messing with some unseen inner working of the food replicator, and the machine was now beginning to smell like smokeHan climbed further into the mess only to jerk upwards and smack his head. He scrambled back out on all fours, pursued by a burst of flame.

"Get the fire extinguisher!" Chewie already had it.

After dousing the flames, the two of them examined what remained of the food replicator.

It's mostly intact, Chewie remarked. Should only need a few new parts.

"But we don't have any parts," Han said.

We could stop in Ord Mandell on the way back.

"An' what are we gonna eat for the next two days?" Han asked. "I'm gonna make it work with what we got."

"Han?"

Now you're in trouble.

The smuggler winced before he turned around to face Leia.

"Hey!" he greeted with false cheer. "Ready for dinner?"

"I was ready over an hour ago. Is there something wrong with the food replicator?"

"Uh, small problem, yeah. I'm workin' on it."

"How long is it going to take?" Leia asked.

It would be a bad idea to answer that one too specifically. "Just a little while," he said.

Just in case the princess might be picking up some Wookiee, Chewie used an obscure and somewhat vulgar slang word from his homeworld. Liar, he said, roughly translated.

Leia eyed him suspiciously. "It's already been a little while," she replied, circling Han. He moved with her to stand between her and the food replicator. She feinted to the left, and he matched her. She started to the right and Han was still in her way. Finally she faked to the left again and then ducked right, getting a full view of the busted machine.

There was a dialogue-free moment. Han spun his hydrospanner around in both hands, examining the ceiling. Leia stared at the food replicator, which was still smoking slightly. Chewie watched the two of them with secret amusement.

"That just figures," Leia said slowly, and turned to leave. "You know, I'll get my own dinner. Thanks anyway."

"Just a minute!" Han said, following her out of the tiny galley to the storage hold. "Come on, it's fixable!"

"What are these? Old Republic rations?"

"Yeah, well, Imperial ones. Look, I'm gonna fix the machine if you'll just wait-"

"I don't feel like waiting anymore, Han, I'm hungry now."

"But those-"

Chewbacca listened to the sound of a door being slammed in Han's face, followed by a bout of muttered swearing. "Fine! Be like that!" the smuggler retorted, a bit late. Leia didn't answer him.

Han walked over and peered into the storage hold.

"You took all the rations!" he shouted back at her. "All of them?"

"There were only two boxes," Leia's muffled voice replied. "I'll make them last."

"What am I 'sposed to eat?" Han asked, indignant.

"You know, I really don't care."

"That's real nice of you. Classy," Han shouted back.

"You said you'd fix the replicator," she pointed out.

Han scowled, shook his head, and looked around him for something to kick. There was nothing handy, so he kicked the air.

Hadn't there been more than two boxes? He could've sworn… but a quick glance in the hold confirmed that it was still empty. Leia had stolen all the food, and now she was lying to him. On his own ship. Unbelievable!

He knew the food replicator wasn't going to be working any time soon no matter what he did, and they couldn't well stop en route to the Bothan system.

"Well, Chewie, we're shit outta luck," Han grumbled, flinging himself into the pilot's seat to sulk. "Two days without food. Just like old times, huh?"

The copilot growled in agreement, surreptitiously licking expired rations out of his teeth. He hoped the four boxes he'd stashed would last the rest of the trip. Life debt or not, two days wasn't going to kill Han, and wookiees needed more food than humans anyway.