Kairos

by hanandleiahothwars

KAIROS (n.) the perfect, delicate, crucial moment; the fleeting rightness of time and place that creates the opportune atmosphere; not just time, the exactly right time for a particular thing to happen. Han and Leia, on a slow flight to Bespin.

13. Decathect

DECATHECT

(v.) to avoid a physical or emotional connection in anticipation of a future loss

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Gulping the last of her water, Leia wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, still panting from exertion and only just beginning to regain her breath. The Falcon had a very limited course to run but she'd worked herself hard doing laps; the sweat trickling down the small of her back could attest to that. Setting the now empty bottle at the engineering station, she took off again sprinting out of the main hold.

No matter how hard she pushed herself, however, she couldn't go fast enough to outrun this morning's disturbing dream. She could almost hear Aunt Tia lecturing: You can run and run, but it's futile; sooner or later, the truth will catch up to you.

Well, it seemed theirs just had.

For as much as she'd tried to tell herself it was only another nightmare, one of many she'd had and would surely continue to have, there was no denying that waking up from this one had felt different, engulfed in profound sadness and despair that continued to cling even once awake. In fact, the emotional upheaval was proving impossible to fully shake off — not when this nightmare wasn't a memory, it was a warning; not the past that couldn't be helped, but the future that still awaited her.

Would she have walked so determinedly onto the Tantive IV, Death Stars plans firmly in hand, if she had known it would mean her entire world would be destroyed in a matter of days? Hindsight was everything and she'd had no warning then, no opportunity to change course. Knowing what that chance might have meant to her life, could she really ignore this chance at self-preservation now?

Isn't that exactly what the dream was telling her? A cautionary reminder that now was no time to slack at her carefully built defenses. She'd spent years resisting Han for good reason, and while openly admitting to feelings for one another after so much denial felt like monumental progress between them, the fundamentals hadn't changed the smallest centim. Just the opposite; since the disastrous aftermath of Ord Mantell, the situation was significantly worse.

And not a single thing had been done to reach a new understanding or remove those impediments that continued to stand between them. The reneging of Han's pledge to finally join up with the Alliance, and subsequently, stay with her indefinitely; his plan to take off the very moment he got her back to the Rebel fleet; his refusal to even entertain any arguments to the contrary — these were all subjects they simply didn't talk about, marked expressly 'off-limits' even in Leia's own private thoughts. They were able to enjoy this time with each other as a pleasurable détente, a respite of at last giving over to feeling, solely by not acknowledging the time bomb that persistently ticked away, preparing once again to annihilate her world.

In the two weeks of their trip thus far, Leia had grown adept at living in denial. By now, she was exceedingly proficient at ignoring the rancor in the room…But she couldn't quite manage to wholly forget that it was there.

More than just an awareness of its existence, she feared it, terribly. It filled her with a sense of doom and dread so torturing that was why she'd marked such thoughts off-limits in the first place.

And now that they had reached the halfway point of their journey, the very whisper of a reminder of the imminent end awaiting them, soon to snatch all of her happiness away, could send Leia spiraling. She'd taken to avoiding any mention of the word 'Bespin', knowing arriving there was the beginning of the end. Yet, she couldn't disregard the tangible sight of it, its light taunting her in the distance every time she was on watch.

She didn't believe for one second that Han was intentionally trying to hurt or use her. But, deliberate or not, the final result would be the same.

The awareness of what she needed to do to protect herself had been building peripherally for some time: since they'd escaped together on the Falcon; since the return flight back from Ord Mantell; since their initial arrival on Hoth; on some level, from the very moment she'd first felt those now-familiar stirrings of attraction watching him on the Death Star dash headlong into a sea of stormtroopers so that she could escape.

Yes, this time Leia had full and complete foreknowledge of what she had to do to safeguard her world. The issue lay in finding the willpower to do it. She hadn't much self-discipline left where Han was concerned, and it was dwindling by the minute.

Post-run, once she had a long shower and a fresh change of clothes, she felt much more calm and relaxed. Willpower lessened.

Then Han arranged for Threepio to fetch her and bring her to the cockpit where he'd set up a surprise brunch of sorts for them to share while he finished the last hour of what should have been her turn at watch — which meant the poor man would have to have another go when his turn came up in only a few more hours. Willpower lessened further.

They talked while they ate, and Han could tell Leia remained in a bit of a funk from her nightmare so he made an extra effort at drawing her out. As handsome as ever, he was especially sweet, funny and charming trying to cheer her — and it worked in spades. Willpower lessened still further.

Lessened all the way until she started to waver once more.

The further removed she was from her dream, the less jarring and salient it seemed. And there was a reason she'd been in denial for weeks: more than simply not wanting to do what she knew she should, Leia actively, acutely wanted to do the opposite.

It was the same longstanding dilemma with Han — what her heart and body wanted and what was best for her were two different things. For a small slice of time, just before and during the Ord Mantell mission, Leia had thought they could finally be one and the same. But then Han had changed everything on a dime simply because of one overzealous bounty hunter, and they were right back where they started.

Only now, with a failed hyperdrive and an unforeseen extra-long journey in tight quarters, Leia was left with the new problem of knowing exactly what it was like to be deliciously free to touch and kiss one another whenever the impulse struck — which was nearly all the time. Sensible or not, how could she ever go back to the way it was before? She was sharply aware she was fighting a losing battle.

After their brunch, Chewie took over the cockpit, and with his errands for the captain now complete, Threepio powered down to recharge. That left Leia and Han strikingly alone.

Still hopelessly torn, Leia sought to postpone a firm decision and ensuing pronouncement by avoiding a situation where such a need could arise. In other words, she was avoiding being around Han when it was just the two of them and one thing would surely lead to another.

Aware that the last of the repairs to restore the communications system required extensive rewiring beneath the floor panel, she suggested Han work there while she did a bit of random maintenance in the circuity bay. That kept them near enough that it didn't seem suspicious, yet far enough away to avoid temptation.

It was a good plan….except that Leia became too engaged in her work and didn't notice when Han abandoned his and climbed back out of the floor panel to watch her.

Looking at Leia, Han had no inkling of potential trouble looming between them. He knew only that she was his girl, that they'd wanted one another for so long, and that physical intimacy was now not only open to them but to his shock — since he hadn't yet died and gone to heaven — she'd asked for more just the night before.

And she was standing in the same spot where they'd first kissed, up on the very same box to reach higher than her small height would allow. Though not microfusing this time, but that only made it safer to approach her. It was too great an enticement to resist, the pull to relive what might have been that first afternoon had Threepio been similarly switched off.

Coming up behind her, Han was able to move in close without Leia realizing he was there. "Are your hands dirty?" he whispered, warm and low, near her right ear.

Startled, she spun around, shocked that he'd gotten from inside the panel to only a hairbreadth behind her and she had been so absorbed in thought she hadn't even noticed. Leia made a mental note to brush up on her observational skills before her next mission lest a stormtrooper get a similar jump on her.

Then it registered that Han had asked a question…something about her hands being dirty. "Not yet, I haven't start— Oh." It wasn't a real question but, of course, a reference to the asteroid field, their kiss. "You meant—"

She cut off when his hands found her hips, pulling her to him. The box she was standing on advertently provided them provocative positioning that evened out their heights and made everything align just so in a manner that took her breath away.

"Then let's get you dirty," Han murmured, bringing his mouth to hers, his whole body to hers, leaning in until he had her pressed back against the bulkhead.

Leia intended to stop him — at some point she thought she did — tell him about her dream and everything she'd been grappling with, but it was impossible not to be affected when he was warm and real against her, so utterly masculine and potently virile…Surrounded by his scent, wrapped in his arms, goddess how she wanted him, too!

Soon she was kissing him back just as ardently, kisses that rapidly grew in urgency when he started doing that thing with his tongue that absolutely melted her. He broke from her lips to turn his attentions down her neck — a trail of soft, sensual kisses and nibbles that drew her skin into his hot mouth — and it was so compellingly erotic, her knees literally weakened. Leia gripped him tighter, her only thought: how could I ever consider this a bad thing?

Han groaned hungrily into her throat as she clutched at him, her one hand threading up into his hair and the other bunching in his shirt near his waist to tug him nearer. With her suggestion from the day before in mind — it was frankly all he'd been able to think about — he reached for her leg and hitched it up over his hip, grasping her thigh, caressing and kneading while he held her in place.

When he tried it, pressed his growing arousal between her legs liked she'd asked, her fingernails bit into his side and Leia made a sound of such intense delight it left him instantly rock-hard.

"Ooh, you…gods, you feel good," she marveled.

"Sweetheart, so do you," Han emphatically echoed in a guttural growl that flooded her sex with liquid heat.

His mouth slid down her sternum and she couldn't resist. Experimentally, Leia rolled her hips against him, inhaling sharply through her teeth, the motion proved so fantastic. She progressed to a slow circle of her pelvis over him, and her inner muscles pulsed in emphatic encouragement of the new stimulation.

When Han's own fog cleared enough for him to read Leia's expression, it was one of being lost in pleasure. He smiled softly and, with a stuttered sigh of gratification, went back to kissing her neck. She ground into him again, the exquisite heat of her center grazing along his cock in a tantalizing stroke that left him breathing a helpless, "Leia, Leia, volgoth valle."

He let himself thrust against her, admittedly more aggressively than he'd intended but it had been such a long, long time for him. The gasp that came from Leia then sounded like one of apprehension, and he stopped short, immediately holding himself in check.

The surge of Han's hips between her legs had brought Leia instantly back to herself; it reminded her so much of her dream. A dream in which the sex was fantastic but she'd seen the abandonment that was to follow, knew the same thing would also follow in real life — and it didn't get much more real than his tangible erection pressing inexorably against the damp, heated core of her.

This was no longer fantasy in the privacy of her bunk, safely across base from the object of her desire. This was reality. They both knew where this path was swiftly heading, a course that once taken was irreversible. She had to make that decision with a clear head.

"Han, I need a moment," Leia told him, sliding both hands to his waist and lightly setting him back.

"O-okay," he stuttered.

Han Solo actually stuttered; she affected him that much. Gods, that was adorable, and it made her decision all the harder.

But was it even a decision? Or had it already been made?...She'd gone rigid in his arms and uncoiled her thigh from his hip, her foot landing back on the box with an audible thump. It was obvious her heart had firmly chosen when it seized up in dread at the thought of Han loving and leaving her just as he had in her dream.

Seeing her anxious and conflicted, Han's every instinct was to set her at ease. "Leia, it's alright. Whatever you need," he soothingly promised.

He was being so sweet and tender with her that it compounded Leia's guilt for what she was about to tell him, for what hearing it would surely do to their fledgling relationship. But it couldn't be helped, not with the way things stood; she had to protect herself. "I'm sorry. I know you want to—"

"Mm-mm, no." He shook his head. "What'd I tell you, Sweetheart? No being sorry. No apologizing to me for what you do or don't want."

"Yes, but…I don't mean this, right now. I'm…I..."

She looked so distressed, it alarmed him. "Leia. What's wrong, honey? Talk to me."

His tone was awash with concern and that made it more difficult for her, too. But on the heels of that, another part of Leia chimed up that it wasn't fair for her to be the one feeling guilty when he was the one who had created this situation.

She continued, it seemed, to be at war with herself surrounding the issue; caught between understanding and forgiveness, and continued feelings of hurt and betrayal. But of one thing she was certain, her mind fully made up. Logic had joined with her heart in concluding it was unquestionably the safest course, and regardless of what fallout may follow, her emotional wellbeing was too important not to hold the line.

"Things have been intensifying between us, and I know that's equally my doing," she unreservedly allowed, "but I've begun to think…"

"It's too much?" he inferred.

"Something like that…You see, I had—" What had it been exactly? A nightmare? A premonition? A preview of things to come? "—an illuminating dream that left me reevaluating things."

She sounded irrational to her own ears, putting so much emphasis on a dream. Moreover, it wasn't fully representative of the situation. A storm had been brewing that led to the dream, had likely never stopped building since Hoth, and he needed to finally know it.

"But it isn't just the dream. I've been brushing this off, putting it aside and trying not to think about it, honestly, this entire time," she revealed. "It isn't even what happened right now, though right now did make it very real."

"Okay. I get that." Trying to piece together the essence of what she was getting at, while he didn't understand it all — chiefly the context of this mysterious dream that had affected her — Han assumed she was talking about them having sex. And yeah, with his hard dick between her legs, it was a lot more real than mere hypothetical speculation or longing. He was keenly feeling that fact himself. But where his reaction was full-speed ahead!, hers appeared to have veered toward panic!. "It's okay, Leia. Really, whatever you need," he again stressed. "We'll go at whatever pace you set."

"I don't think you understand." He thought this was about their current rate of escalation and a desire to slow down a bit; he didn't realize she was fully activating the brakes. "I've been questioning and worrying, and what I've realized is—"

"Worrying?" Han echoed, a pained crease appearing between his brows. He didn't want her to feel that way about anything when it came to the two of them. He blamed himself for getting carried away and pushing too far.

He was trying with everything in him to stay in line with her, and up until then he thought he had, but he'd never before been with anyone even remotely inexperienced, and no matter what she wanted to think that did make a difference in what was and wasn't perceived as a notable boundary to be crossed. For Leia, he suspected any apprehension was less about physical intimacy and more about easing her into the emotional vulnerability that would go hand-in-hand with the physical. In his eagerness, maybe he'd skipped past some invisible comfort zone of hers. If that was the case, he needed her to know it hadn't been his intention to hasten anything she wasn't ready for. She would receive zero pressure from him. Concerns about that shouldn't be anywhere in her mind. "Sweetheart, don't worry," he implored. "I'm the one who's sorry if I made you worry."

"Han, you didn't overstep any boundaries. That's now what I'm—" He was still thinking in terms of being too sexually aggressive with her, and that wasn't it at all. She doubled back, searching for a better way to put it. "Perhaps 'worrying' was the wrong choice of words. I've been considering," she amended, "that it might be best to—" Again, she went back because that didn't precisely hit upon it, either. "Not only that it's for the best, but also that it's not what I want." She bite her lip, dreading saying the rest, knowing it would disillusion him but equally aware that it had to be said. "I'm certain now that this isn't right for me."

Han's heart fell to his stomach, and shock robbed him of the capacity to keep the stricken look from his face. "This?" He gestured between them. "Me? Us?"

"No, no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean you or us," she rushed to reassure him.

Han was enormously relieved to hear she hadn't changed her mind about him. He let out a breath again, unaware he'd been holding it, but before he could form a reply to ask her what she did mean, Leia hurried on.

"This is a first for me, Han, and the stakes are astronomically high, you understand that?" She paused, ostensibly seeking a response from him.

Han cautiously, silently, nodded. This was tricky territory, and not knowing where she was headed with it, keeping his mouth shut for now seemed wisest.

"So did I; I knew. I knew long before the asteroid field, well before we left Hoth…but, goddess help me, I wouldn't take it back. I don't want to go back to before. I know I should be careful, yet I can't give this up. For better or worse, I have to allow myself at least this much." Leia squared her shoulders determinedly. "But that doesn't mean I can allow everything. Not all of me, not the whole of me."

For a seasoned diplomat, she was strikingly aware she was doing a terrible job of succinctly, firmly stating her standpoint. Perhaps slipping a bit into senatorial mode was exactly what was called for. "What I'm trying to say is that I can't — I won't," she emphasized, striving to make her position clear: this was a choice she had levelheadedly made and had no intension of going back on. "I won't give myself to you now. Not just 'now', meaning today or tonight, but—"

She stopped short at his expression. He looked downright befuddled, and she knew she was to blame. Her signals had been mixed at best, her blathering hadn't helped any, and putting it in genteel terms had been another mistake. She needed to spell it out bluntly.

Holding his eye steadily, Leia took a deep breath and then dropped her pebble into the water, awaiting the ripples to come. "I'm saying I'm not going to have sex with you. At all."

Han couldn't pretend that wasn't a bombshell; everything up until now had led him to believe sex was where they were imminently heading. But Leia wanting to take things slowly hadn't — and didn't — bother him. Neither did the fact that she was a virgin, other than making him feel special that she'd chosen him and that singular choice proved how much he meant to her. If she thought her inexperience put him off in any way, she was mistaken. Whatever values or standards Leia might hold, if she'd had fifty lovers or zero, whatever she chose to do with her body was her business. He respected it all because he respected Leia. And if she felt like a fortnight in was too soon to move things to the bedroom — if she wanted to wait all the way until marriage — sure, that wasn't what he'd hoped for, but he was absolutely on board with making things work however she needed.

Until she said the next thing.

Leia's chin went up, her eyes sparking challenge. "Not when you're still leaving."

And that made it completely different.

He had no problem with the things she'd told him before: that she felt a bit intimidated by their disparity in experience levels; that being a virgin meant she would be more cautious about what happened between them; that she was going to need time and to take things by small degrees. He didn't begrudge her that; what kind of asshole would begrudge her that? But this wasn't about speed, or comfort, or taking gradual steps. This wasn't desire versus caution. This was Leia flat-out saying sex was off the table, end of discussion. While that was obviously a letdown for him, it was her choice to make and he found no fault with it. The part that bothered him was why she'd made that choice. It was the Not when you're still leaving of it all.

Putting it that way, what Leia was really saying was that she wouldn't sleep with him only because she didn't like his decision to leave the Alliance and settle his debt. And hells, that too was her prerogative, but damned if it didn't feel like an ultimatum.

Most of all, this was still about Ord Mantell. She was still holding that grudge against him.

It was kriffing hard not to see it as a sexual proviso. If he sided with her, if he'd only do what she wanted, then they'd be in bed together; since he didn't, then they wouldn't. Like it was some kind of…punishment, that's what it was. What it sure as hell felt like. She was withholding sex as retribution. She didn't agree with his choice to go off alone to pay his bounty and this was the penalty. He hadn't a clue what it was like to be in one, but even he knew a functional relationship wouldn't survive that kind of manipulation.

The indomitable set of Leia's chin, the visible dare in her eyes to test her on the subject, faltered as Han went deathly quiet. A veritable hurricane loomed on his face to match the cyclone of emotions swirling within her. There was no holding back the eruption about to transpire.

"Are you angry?" Leia probed. She had hoped for more, and he'd made such a point of repeatedly telling her not to worry about his needs, but he was a man, after all. Winter had long warned her not to expect much from them: When it comes to sex, they lose all reason, she'd said time and again. He probably felt she'd dangled a carrot in front of him and now was taking it away.

"You are angry." She could see that he was. As a feminist that should offend her — a man had no right to be angry with a woman because she wouldn't give him sex — and maybe a part of her was offended. On the other hand, she knew she would be hurt too if he'd rebuffed her similarly, and with them hurt quickly turned to anger. It was a defense mechanism of the heart. "You're mad because I want to stop."

That accusation roused Han back to words and he replied fiercely, his infamous and unconscious finger-point making an appearance. "Not because of that. Never that, Leia. I don't ever want to do anything unless you fully want it. Kriff, I don't think of sex as a girlfriend's obligation."

It was an unfair distraction, the level of delight it brought simply hearing him refer to her as his 'girlfriend'. Still, she wasn't letting him off on this. "But you are mad," Leia pressed.

"Gotta say I'm frustrated." Her eyebrow rose as if to say, See, I told you, and that provoked him into owning, "Okay, you're right, I am mad. But not about sex, so get that straight. Yeah, I want to have sex with you; I'm not gonna say I don't. But that's your choice to make. What upsets me—"

The telltale sound of Threepio toddling his way into the main hold caused them both to freeze in place mid-argument. The last thing either of them wanted was to have Threepio involved in this.

The droid didn't stop or question them, mercifully, but Han knew it was time to take this conversation somewhere private. "Come on." He gestured with his chin toward the opposite entrance to the circuitry bay and Leia silently nodded, equally wary of drawing Threepio's attention.

They didn't have a lot of options. With an overly curious and annoyingly loquacious protocol droid abroad, privacy was hard to come by outside of Han's bunkroom. Considering the topic at hand, though, he sought more neutral ground and opted for stopping inside the small crew quarters, shutting the hatch behind them.

Safely alone, they faced one another in a wordless moment rife with tension. Han was the first to dive back in, adamantly asserting, "This ain't about sex. It's got nothin' to do with sex." He wouldn't stand for Leia thinking he was mad at her because she wouldn't put out. He wasn't about to let her use that as an excuse to run away from him again.

"Well, you can't really say that," she protested with a look of cynicism, "when sex is the very thing we're fighting about."

"No, it's not, and you know it," he countered. "We're not fighting about sex. We're fighting about me leaving. We're fighting because you're using intimacy as a punishment, or a bargaining chip."

Her eyes flashed fire at that charge. "That is not what I'm—"

"We're fighting because you're still mad at me. Still. That upsets me, Leia. How could it not?"

After years — literal years — of back and forth, push and pull, one step forward and three steps back, they were finally coming together, heading someplace good, someplace perfect. Then the disaster of Ord Mantell happened. Fett happened. His own arrogant hubris and reckless lust happened. And they'd lost so much. Because of him, yes, undeniably because of him — what almost happened to her was his fault, what still could happen to her if he didn't right the wrongs of his past — but because of Leia, too. He was only trying to protect her, to do right by her, for once in his selfish life to do something selflessly. He understood she was hurt by his decision to go away without her, especially on the immediate heels of her long-coming capitulation on that island, but he had his reasons — and they were sure as hell good ones. She didn't have to turn on him like he was a goddamned criminal.

"You said you wanted to be with me," Han charged. "I thought we reached an understanding." That was what stung the most. He'd truly believed they were beyond this. After they finally kissed, finally admitted their shared feelings for one another, he'd thought she'd forgiven him, at the very least recognized why he was doing it. He'd sincerely thought they were back to where they'd been before Ord Mantell, but apparently that was nothing more than wishful thinking on his part. "All this time, I thought we were past this. But you're not. Were you ever? What have these last few weeks been then?"

"I tried, Han. I tried to push it all aside and live in ignorant bliss while we still could, but I can't do it." She threw up her hands in frustrated defeat — but no, not defeat when this wasn't even something she could conquer. "I can't do it because it isn't ignorant; I know what's coming. Do you expect me to be happy about the fact that you'll be taking off in a heartbeat the very second you can get me back to the fleet?"

"That's not fair, Leia." It would be so easy to just forget Jabba, sign on with the Alliance and take up with her where they'd left off. But how could he do that when every moment he stayed was putting her in mortal danger? He was only trying to keep her safe, and she was pissed at him for it.

"Do you think it's fair to me?" Leia rebutted. "How fair do you think it was when I was ready to — when I very nearly did — fall into your arms, only to wake up and have you tell me you were leaving just like you always said you would?"

The memory of that devastation fueled her anger and gave her the strength to lay bare the things she'd been struggling to overlook. Well, not anymore. "We were never past this. The only way we've gotten along is by not talking about it. But it's certainly not been resolved. How could you think it was resolved? You flying off whenever you damn well please is the very same thing that's stood between us for years."

We were never past this. Her words echoed in Han's ears and made him feel like an idiot for thinking they'd made so much progress when they were still stuck standing on Square One. And she acted like he had a choice in any of this. What the hells was he supposed to do? Just stay there and let her be killed or captured because of him? He was caught between a rock and a hard place with no painless alternative in sight. He'd picked the route with the least unthinkable consequence: the only thing that mattered to him was saving her life. And she acted like he was walking off AWOL on a lark.

"Kest, Leia, this ain't like Yavin. I'm not going off to make money. I'm not running out with another woman. I'm paying off a debt. It has to be done. I'm doing this for you."

"I never asked you to! I don't want you to!" she shouted. "Gods, Han, you never once asked for my input, never bothered to check what I thought. You made up your mind while I was still unconscious! And then, that was that — on everything." Her tone teemed with bitterness and hurt. "Before Ord Mantell, we spent all of our time together. We worked together, went on life-or-death missions together, ate together, shared the same bed. Then it was just nothing. You were leaving, and it was nothing. We didn't even talk anymore. We didn't exist anymore. I missed you."

"I missed you," he agreed in exasperation. Why was she putting it on him? It was her decision that they be nothing. "I wanted to talk. You made it clear you didn't want to see me."

"No," Leia disputed, "what you wanted me to do was go on as before, as if nothing had happened. As if you leaving made no difference whatsoever. You wanted me to act as if nothing had changed."

And what was wrong with that? He loved her before, and he loved her now. He was joining up with the Alliance before, and he still would just as soon as he got back. If he got back. The fundamentals were the same. "Nothing had changed."

"Everything had changed."

God, how were they back here? Again. Still. "No, Your Worship, it hadn't. It hadn't changed, but you can't see it any other way. I'm still the no-good mercenary smuggler, ready to drop you whenever I see fit, whenever it serves me most."

Leia shook her head. "That was your narrative, Han, not mine."

There was undeniable truth to that. If she had bought into that facade, even a little, there was no one to blame but himself. Yet, he'd thought she knew him better than that by now, thought she could see it was all a big lie. Hells, not even a very convincing one most of the time. This felt like purposeful blinders. Or she'd never really believed there was anything better in him.

When Han answered her, all the bluster had gone out of him. He sounded deflated, felt weary…forever waging the same tired battle. "Maybe. Maybe it was. Doesn't change the fact that you still don't — or won't — recognize the difference between leaving before and leaving now. When you know I don't want to leave, Leia. This isn't my choice."

"Isn't it?" she shot back. "You don't have to go, Han. It isn't absolutely necessary. You could stay on Home One with me — if you wanted to." And there it was; she'd said it, what she'd been fighting the past few weeks not to say. "I don't see anyone holding a blaster to your head, forcing you to go."

"I don't give a fuck about them holding a blaster to my head. It's when they hold it to yours that I can't stomach it."

The second he said it, Han was right back there on Ord Mantell, watching powerlessly as Leia was shot, as she crumpled to the ground bloodied and lifeless. Just like that, he was awash in guilt, the loser who almost got her killed, who did not — could not — deserve her. It instantly flattened any frustrations or sense of unfairness and he sighed in regretful acceptance.

"Look, Leia, I can't blame you for not wanting to get involved with me until I've got things straightened out. A princess doesn't exactly see herself bedding a smuggler who's still in hock to a gangster over a drug run gone bad." For the first time, Han looked away from her, unable to meet her eye. "I know I'm not good enough for you. Think that's part of why I have to leave to: to get things squared away so we can start new."

"Han." There was nothing but compassion in her voice now as she reached for his arm and stroked it reassuringly. "It isn't that I don't want to be with a smuggler."

When he still wouldn't look at her, Leia moved her hand up to softly mold her palm to his jaw, and Han relented, his gaze catching and clinging to hers. "How much of a hypocrite would that make me, to hold your profession against you when for the past three years you've been an Alliance smuggler, at my request? It has nothing to do with that, nerfherder." Her tone softened to further tenderness as she acknowledged, "If we hadn't been interrupted, I would have already had sex with you on that beach on Ord Mantell."

She'd never verbally admitted as much before and it left Han somewhat gobsmacked. Sure, things had seemed to be heading that way, but to have that confirmation, to hear Leia say it from her lips… "You really would have? You'd've let things go that far?" he asked, like he still couldn't quite believe it.

"Let it?" she laughed, unable to help herself. "I was more than just letting it happen; I was inviting it to happen. Han, I was naked," she pointed out in astonished amusement. "What did you think I meant to happen? Yes, I would've made love with you then. I wanted to, so much…"

Han brought his hand up to hers where it was still pressed against his cheek, capturing it and bringing it to his lips where he placed a soft kiss to each of her fingertips. "You know how much I wanted you, Leia," he murmured in that deep, low rumble that tripped along her spine, his breath warm against her skin further stirring her.

"We would have made love, Han, at least once. Maybe twice." The left corner of his mouth tipped up at that in the impossibly charming, unbearably alluring lopsided smirk of his and she felt a further spike of insistent desire. "Maybe three times."

Han wanted nothing more than to fall into flirtation with her, but where could it go with things still unresolved between them? Instead, he voiced their current reality. "You would have then, but not now."

Leia exhaled heavily. They were back to it then. There would be no giving ground in this, it seemed. She took a step back from him, in the process extracting her hand. "You weren't leaving then." With a touch of resentment, she adjoined, "As you may recall, you had just promised to stay."

He nodded knowingly. "So it was because I was joining the Alliance."

"No," she refuted vehemently. "Not any kind of quid pro quo. You're not seriously buying into the rumors, like I'm your payment?"

"Come on, Leia, I didn't it mean like that," he was quick to clarify. "That's misogynistic bantha fodder, and everyone knew better than to blab that toxic shit around me."

"I know," she quietly conceded. "I do know that, Han. But I need you to know it wasn't a 'reward for good behavior' either. That wasn't why I was ready to be with you then. Yes, I was happy for us to finally have the same commitment, the same ideology and principle. You know after everything I've been through that the Rebel Alliance isn't just some cause to me. My entire future, the galaxy's future, is dependent on—"

"Princess, hey, you don't have to sell me on the importance of the Rebel Alliance. It is my cause and commitment, even if I can't stay right now. You know that, right? When I told you I was joining up with the Alliance, I wasn't just blowin' hot air; it was a promise I intended to keep, and it wasn't only for you. I know you're mad I went back on it, but I'm—"

"I don't think I am still mad about that." Han gave her a skeptical look, so she allowed, "All right, I'm not angry with you over why you felt you had to go back on it. Maybe I am mad at your obstinacy in this, at your failure to include me…but mostly it's the situation. Mostly."

"'M not just being stubborn, Leia. If there was any other way, I'd take it," he vowed. "And I only didn't include you 'cos I knew what you'd say: what you're saying right now. But every second I stay with you is another second I'm putting your life in danger, and that's kriffin' unacceptable."

"I don't care about that," she told him earnestly. It was admirable that he wanted to protect her always, that he cared for her that much. She loved that about him. But there was a time when you had to draw the line. They were at war. There would always be risk; she was always in danger. If that risk allowed them to be together, then it was a chance well worth taking.

Han shook his head, sighing. She would never see it his way, never value her safety the way she ought to. He wouldn't get through to her playing on survival instincts. He would have to try some other way, and he had a feeling he knew the best one.

"If you don't care about yourself, then what about the Rebellion?" he posited. "The Alliance will suffer, too. They're gonna keep coming after me, after you. It'll endanger every mission either of us goes on, any new base we set up. If I'm there, everyone's in jeopardy. Until I get this taken care of. Don't you care about that?"

Leia's expression varied to uncertainty. Not at his claim, but at her own reaction to it. Because in her heart of hearts, though she was duty bound that it should be, she honestly couldn't say that the best interest of the Alliance was most important to her right now. "The worst thing would be if you left," she admitted.

"No, the worst thing would be if you're dead!" Han insisted in a surge of frustration. "Why don't you see that? What difference does it make if I'm with the Alliance or on Tatooine if you've got a blaster bolt between the eyes?!"

She could have let herself be angry, could have answered in kind, it could have devolved into one of their old shouting matches full of tension and hurt and the heavy weight of everything they were not saying, but Leia read it for what it was. She knew he was scared, utterly terrified, that she was going to be hurt or killed. "Han," she said soothingly, "I'm not going to die."

"You don't know that, Leia. You don't know!" he argued frantically, in disbelief that she so refused to face reality. "Ord Mantell won't be an isolated incident; they're gonna keep coming. They know they can use you to get to me — and Fett proved they're not above a fuckin' thing to do it," he emphasized desperately. "They'll beat you, rape you, whatever it takes to get me to come in. Even then, bounty hunters are lying shits who'll just as soon hand you over to the Empire afterwards anyway. I can't protect you if I stay, Leia. I'd sure as hell try, but there'd be no guarantees.

He hated this, too. Han didn't think she believed that, but he did. He wished to all the gods there was some other option, but they were fresh out of them. There was no other choice. He wasn't about to just sit around and callously risk her life; that absolutely wasn't going to happen. And where was the endgame in that anyway? They spend the rest of their lives in hiding, just hoping eventually Jabba died? How was that conducive to Leia's plans to win the war and establish a freely governed galaxy afterwards?

"Then I'll come with you," she proclaimed, resolute.

Han huffed incredulously. "You're outta your mind if you think I'd let you anywhere near the Dune Sea."

Leia's spine straightened warningly. "Let me?"

"You know what I mean," he waved her off. "I'm doing this to protect you, so why in all seven hells would I agree to that? The only thing more dangerous to you than me sticking around is if you came along for the ride."

"It wouldn't just be me 'coming along'," she persisted in outrage. "I have resources at my disposal, Han. I could help you."

"Sweetheart," he sighed, "I have full faith in your abilities to do anything you set your mind to, but you've got a job with the Alliance. A damn important job. You're the glue that holds this entire operation together and we both know it. They need you with them. And I need you to stay far away from where I'm going. It's too kriffin' dangerous."

"Which is exactly my point! If it's so dangerous," she reasoned, "then you shouldn't be going either."

"Haven't got a choice. The only way I know for sure you're out of his reach is if I go to Jabba myself," Han staunchly maintained. "You're not gonna change my mind about it, Leia, 'cos there is no alternative. But you gotta know this isn't what I want. How can you think I'd want to leave you? I'm only going because I have to."

She understood that's what he thought, and yet there was nothing particularly new about the situation. Moreover, they all had bounties on their heads, not just him. It made her heart cry that he could simply stay as he had been; no need to change anything now, now that they were finally just finding each other. "You've successfully evaded them for years. What makes you think you can't—"

"Ord Mantel is what makes me think it," Han cut in, his tone saying she was being willfully obtuse. "You know what happened there — and that was getting out lucky. If it was just me…." He shook his head, eyes full of fiery determination at the memory of Leia's limp body. "….but I will not take chances with your safety."

"And I won't take chances with yours. This isn't about self-interest. Yes, I would miss you. Yes, I want you with me. But most of all, I'm scared for you, Han," Leia confessed brokenly. "You don't have to do this. And you certainly don't have to do it alone."

If she expected any sign of relenting, she wouldn't get it. His voice was gentle as he answered her, but Han held firm. "If you're scared for my life then you know exactly how I feel about yours."

She threw her hands up in exasperation. "No, because it's not the same. I may be in associated danger from bounty hunters who are after you, but it's not as if I'm surrendering to them, just handing myself over in your name. That's what you're doing. And you say it's because of me, but I don't want that!" Leia grabbed his sleeve, yanking him down to her eye level. "Do you hear me, Han Solo? I do not want that. I would take a blaster bolt ten times over rather than silently watch you become a martyr. If I'm the most important thing to you, well, then I'm telling you: I don't want you to go! I don't want you to face that, for me or anyone else."

Han gently plucked her fist from where it was clenched in his sleeve, enfolding her hand in his instead, but he couldn't give her the answer she wanted. "I need you to be safe, Leia." That had become his mantra, the very thing he lived and breathed for: that she be safe and happy.

She sighed and closed her eyes a moment. That he valued her so highly, spoke with such conviction of his unqualified need to ensure her well-being, was a difficult thing to fault him for. But it also made this a near insurmountable debate so long as his fear for her superseded all reason.

When Leia opened her eyes again she replied with renewed patience, "I understand that, Han." Still, she hoped this fact — wholly unconnected to him — might make a difference. "But the Empire has a bounty out on me; you know that. Outside of Luke, I'm the most wanted being in the galaxy. And the Empire's sway is certainly greater than that of an Outer Rim crime lord's. My life won't suddenly stop being in danger simply because you've paid off your debt to Jabba."

"But that danger won't be because of me." Han pounded a fist against his chest. "It's impossible to stand between you and the entire galaxy, I've learned that lesson, but I can't be the reason something happens to you. As long as I got any kind of a say in anything, I won't be. Not gonna happen on my watch, that's all there is to it. And if you hate me for that, guess that's gotta be the way it is. You safe, that's the most important thing. I want it above everything else, even if you don't. I want it enough for the both of us. I'm not budging on that. Yeah," he freely conceded her earlier point, "in this, it doesn't matter to me if you want it or not."

"All right," Leia acknowledged. There was no point in arguing any further. They had both said all there was to be said. There would be no changing each other's minds; this was the impasse they faced. "I know that's how you feel, and I accept those feelings. Nevertheless, that means we find ourselves in a precarious position. Because how I feel is that I can't sleep with you under these circumstances. I realize that may sound like resentment, but it's really self-preservation. It's not because I'm mad," she promised softly, resting her hand against his chest. "It's not because I'm trying to punish you, or weaponize our physical intimacy. It's because I have to."

Her voice wavered on the edge of control as she fought back tears. "You can't stay and put me in danger; that's what you need to do. And I can't sleep with you knowing you're going to leave; that's what I need to do, to protect myself. I know that sex doesn't seem like a big deal to you, to a lot of beings, and I don't hold that against you or them."

Han thought to interject that, No, having sex with you would be a very big deal. He was no virgin, but sex with feelings? That was definitely new to him. Just because he'd been inside a woman before didn't mean that being with Leia, whom he loved, wouldn't require equal vulnerability from him, too. He didn't think she understood that, but continuing to argue the point would make him look like a prick who was only after sex, so he stayed silent.

"I realize it doesn't have to be this profound, momentous thing," she went on, "and I certainly know that sex and lo— emotions," she hastily corrected, "don't necessarily go hand-in-hand. I understand all of that. And honestly? I agree. Everyone thinks I'm uptight about these things, but actually I'm not."

"Leia, you don't have to—"

"I know I don't have to explain," she halted his objection, "but I want you to know this. Please let me say it."

Han nodded wordlessly. He certainly wasn't seeking to silence her. He would listen to anything she had to say, all day, just as long as she knew he wasn't trying to coerce her or demand justifications for her sexual decisions.

Leia matched his nod with a determined one of her own before continuing. "As a teenager, before the war, Winter was the closest confidante and comparison I had for these things, and she was very free sexually. As careful as I felt I needed to be, she was completely unrestricted, but I never judged her for that. In fact, sometimes I lived vicariously through her stories. Alderaan as a whole had quite progressive sexual views, particularly about female sexuality and pleasure, and––"

She stopped herself, realizing she was going off on a tangent. "I'm getting off-topic here. The point is that I fully understand sex needn't be a big deal for everyone. But it is for me. For all the reasons I told you before. It could be nature, it could be nurture –– probably a bit of both –– but it's who I am." Leia shrugged. "I can't change it any more than I could change the color of my eyes or hair. I could pretend, but just like one colors their hair or puts in lenses, it's only a facade and eventually the true color comes through. I'll never be one to think casually of sex. Sexual urges, yes; like any other need of the body, like hunger or thirst, they must be satisfied. But sharing the acts of lovemaking with someone else? That isn't something I could ever be blithe about. And beyond my own personal feelings, I was raised to believe that letting someone into my bed, allowing that intimate access to myself, was a privilege that shouldn't be granted lightly."

"And I'm not worthy, I know," Han agreed, letting go of her hand as if even that might sully her. "I know that better than anyone. But I'm gonna do somethin' about it."

"Not you." She rubbed her thumb over his breast bone soothingly. "It's not you who isn't worthy. It's the circumstances that aren't. It isn't the 'who'; it's the 'when'. This is not the sort of situation I want surrounding my — or our — first time. The circumstances and timing are off; you have to admit that. But this is difficult for me, too, Han. It's difficult all around. I wish that things were like they were before Ord Mantell, when you were staying and we were free to be together with nothing more standing in the way. Do you really think you're the only one who's imagined us together? I've had plenty of fantasies, in intimate detail, more times than I can count."

Han was so engrossed by that confession he had to forcibly grab hold of his thoughts before he lost track of the conversation. "Nothin' wrong with that. Sounds like a good thing, Sweetheart," he murmured. "Except…the circumstances are bad for you now," he repeated, not questioning exactly, just trying to understand.

"When the future is so uncertain? When you're leaving so soon, and we may never see each other again?" Leia raised. "Yes, those circumstances are far from ideal."

"Some might say that's all the more reason to be together while we still can."

"Some might say that," she concurred, "and I can understand that way of thinking. It's the very reason why, base after base, in the middle of war, we still have regular downtime, mornings off, the occasional party and holiday celebrations."

"But you don't feel that way yourself?"

"To a point, I do. I was at some of those parties, after all, oftentimes with you. Living in the moment can be enjoyable, and sometimes very necessary. But we live past the moment. The choices we make today become our future, and like it or not, we have to weigh the eventual fallout. We all know what happened the last time I failed to sufficiently do so."

She'd ferried the stolen Death Star plans herself under the excuse of a 'diplomatic mission' that in hindsight seemed brazen and foolhardy. By taking on the mission she'd risked her own capture, a possibility she was aware of and accepted. What she hadn't adequately thought through was how her actions could expose all of Alderaan to potential fallout. That mistake cost Leia her family, her friends, her entire world. Billions of people –– her people, people she had been responsible for as their princess and future queen –– lost their lives.

"Leia, listen to me: you didn't 'fail' Alderaan," Han fiercely averred. "No one could have expected the Imps would be that evil, no matter what one woman had done."

"Maybe, maybe not, but the principle is still sound. Choices have consequences. Gaining something today may cost us something tomorrow. Actions have to be weighed. I can't risk my future for a bit of satisfaction now. When I was a child, my father had this game we played," Leia told him by way of explanation. "I didn't realize at the time that it was actually a lesson in facing the consequences of your decisions, in learning the value of self-control and tenacity "Father used to offer me this now or that later." She held out both her open palms as if to indicate two invisible choices. "Something good, something I would enjoy — some little sweet like Juja-cake — right now, right away," she said, wiggling her right hand. "Or, if I waited…" She now lifted her left hand, "…I could have something even better, something like a Trammistan chocolate cookie, which he knew was—"

"Your favorite," he said at the same time as she finished with, "—my favorite treat."

"Yes," Leia nodded, smiling. "You do know me. And so did he. I could have my very favorite treat if I waited, or something lesser now. It was basic impulse control — and I always waited. Father knew I would always wait. Because even from childhood I've known my own mind: what I want, how I want it, and I'm willing to wait to get it right rather than settling for something less in the here and now."

"But how do you know that this — us together now — would be less?" he put forward.

"Well, it would have to be, Han. Because you're leaving," she slowly stressed. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be difficult, I just don't know how else to say it. It seems very straightforward to me. 'Sex and then you leave' is always going to be worse than 'sex and then you stay'…And then we have more sex," she added coyly.

The electrifyingly open discussion of all the hypothetical sex they would be having, along with the solid validity of her claim, left Han without a rebuttal.

"Let me put it this way," Leia proposed. "Would you have wanted to fly the Falcon once, and afterwards you would have to give her up? Have to just hope you might get her back someday, while living the rest of your life knowing exactly what you're missing, aching for what you're missing. And what if you never got her back? Could you subject yourself to that? Wouldn't you only want to fly with her if she could really and truly be yours — for good, without any takebacks or sadness or the loss of having to immediately give her up?"

She wasn't entirely off-base, and Han could admit it. He did fly the Falcon just once, so he knew exactly what Leia meant. After just that one time, the Falcon had gotten into his blood and he desperately wanted her for his own. That's what had so keenly interested him in a particularly fateful game of sabacc with Lando, what had motivated him to put up a kestload of credits to play. But if he hadn't won, if the Falcon had stayed Lando's, Han couldn't say he would have regretted ever flying her. At least he would have had the incredible experience once, if never again. "That's a lot of talk about afterwards but no talk about during," he pointed out.

Leia choked out a laugh. "Of course it would be good during; that's never been in doubt. Afterwards has always been the problem, but someone has to consider it….And, you know, it would affect the during, too. I want sleeping with you to be something I can fully enjoy, and that's not going to happen with a deadline hanging over us. It will always be this taunting thing, lurking at the edge of my mind and casting bittersweetness on it all." Pain along with any pleasure, loss along with any gain, just as her dream had warned.

"Yes, I want you. But want isn't enough to make me sleep with you if the situation isn't right. I've wanted you for years, Han. What stopped me wasn't a lack of desire, it was the fact that you swore you were leaving someday. That still hasn't changed." She held his gaze with pained eyes. "In fact, now it's worse. The 'leaving' part went from this open-ended possibility that seemed less and less likely, to an actual looming, very real, very soon occurrence. Does this honestly seem to you like a good time to start something? Knowing that I do take sex seriously?"

"No," Han granted. He couldn't and wouldn't deny that their current situation was messy at best, disastrous at worst, and not at all what he wanted for them. Yet, those same descriptors could apply to most of the time they'd known each other. "It doesn't seem like a good time. But when is, Leia, while we're at war? When we could all die at any minute?" he underscored. "Permanence isn't a guarantee when you're fighting for an outnumbered, underfinanced rebellion. We all know that."

"Yes, we could be taken down by the Empire," she acknowledged. "Either or both of us might be killed, and then we'll have missed our chance to ever be together that way. But we can't help being at war. I think it's my destiny, what my life has been leading to from the day I was born. We can't prevent those threats. We can't stop them from existing. But right now, here, you're—"

"I'm choosing to leave," he finished for her. Leia opened her mouth to further argue the point but he held up a hand, stopping her. "I know, I know. You got your feelings on that and I got mine. We kinda came full circle, didn't we?"

"Yes, we did." She gave a sad half-smile. "If it helps, it's not only that it's your choice to leave. It's that the war, the Imperials — those are possibilities; conceivable, even probable, dangers. But this we know is happening. We may all survive the war. We can't go around expecting to die. Be prepared for it, yes, but we have to make plans under the assumption that we will live; that's the very basis of hope. This though…we know you are leaving, in a matter of weeks, just as soon as we make repairs on Bespin. That isn't a possibility, it's our reality."

"Kest." Han ran a troubled hand through his hair. "So where do we go from here?"

"I don't know." Leia's voice was so quiet he had to strain to hear her.

It was tempting — more than just appealing, her kneejerk reaction — to leave it at that. Opening herself up to the possibility of more pain would never be easy after Alderaan. However, the alternative had only led to a host of mistakes and missed opportunities. She thought of the childish way she'd kissed Luke to spite Han, thought of the various times over the years when she'd found Han laughing with some other female and walked away stung. She thought of the nights, too numerous to number, when she'd swallowed words that begged to be spoken and saw the anguish in Han's eyes at her silence.

Leia looked back on the tumultuous whole of their relationship and what she came to realize was that, difficult as it was to leave herself vulnerable to getting hurt, it was an essential part of life — and, ironically, the only way to make their pain stop.

And so, for once, she didn't stay silent. Finally, she let the words flow.

"I do want to be with you, Han. I don't want us to keep hurting each other, intentionally or through misunderstandings, so let me be clear: I want you; that is how I feel." Her eyes shone with unshed tears, knowing that, wanted or not, it wasn't fated to last. "I wish that things were different so we could be together, but…"

"Yeah." Han nodded heavily, grim with the weight of that unfortunate word. "But."

"I'm not saying I need everything to stop. I have a little of that 'enjoy life while you still can' philosophy, after all," she allowed. "But I'm not ready, or willing, to take the next step when—"

She was loathe to keep repeating when you're leaving, continually placing the fault and the blame at his feet. Seasoned diplomat that she was, Leia appreciated that words could be weapons, but the resentment she'd held had faded and she had no desire left to use hers against him. While she persisted in believing that leaving was a choice Han was making and not something that absolutely must be done, she knew that he didn't see it that way. Therefore, it was unfair to keep putting him in a position where he was torturously caught between the two compelling but currently opposing needs to protect her feelings and her safety.

"—when we're in the position that we're in," she finished judiciously.

Her tactful rewording was not lost upon him and Han reached out for her. Grateful for her honesty, relishing her openness, he ran his hands over her shoulders and down her arms reverently. "Can I say something here without sounding like a total jerk?"

Leia's eyes still held tears, but now with the addition of soft mischief. "Possibly. You've managed it a time or two."

He grinned at that, a welcome relief to the tension. "Know what I think some of this might be about, what you maybe don't even realize yourself? I think you gotta be in control."

She paused, looking at him questioningly. "Of sex?"

"Yeah." She liked to feel in control of everything, a commonly known fact about the princess. To suggest that would also extend to her sex life wasn't shocking to Han's mind, so it was surprising to see a warm blush spreading across Leia's cheekbones.

"Do you mean…me on top?" she ventured uncertainly.

"No," Han answered with a laugh, unable to hold it back, "not that you gotta be on top. Kriff, you're adorable."

He watched the color in her face brighten, her lips twisting into a frown, and he immediately cursed himself. Shit, should've been more careful. He knew she was self-conscious about her sexual inexperience, particularly in the face of his fluency.

"Don't get upset. It was a compliment," he told her, and slid his hand the rest of the way down her arm to link his fingers through hers, gently squeezing. "You could have all the expertise of a holoporn star and I'd still find you adorable."

That seemed to appease her; she looked less embarrassed, and he didn't think she was going to yell at him anymore, so he continued. "No, I wasn't talking about a physical position of control during sex. Although, that's probably not far off the mark," he recognized roguishly. "I bet you would enjoy being in the pilot's seat, or tauntaun's saddle, however you wanna think of it," he added with a suggestive wink that further disarmed her. "I meant it in a larger sense; that you have to have total mastery over every aspect of your life."

She didn't deny it, simply countered with, "Who doesn't want that?"

"Yeah, but I'm talking absolute control in every nuance of all of your experiences." There was that frown again, along with a crease of perturbance just above the bridge of Leia's nose, and he hastened to correct what he knew she was thinking. "I'm not saying 'controlling' like 'domineering'. I'm saying you gotta be in control like…" He knew this would make her baulk but it didn't stop it from being true. "…well, like you're afraid not to be. And with this? With the two of us being together? You want, maybe even need, to still feel in complete control of yourself — all your thoughts, your emotions, your body. But that ain't how good sex works, Leia. Great sex means being out of control, totally giving up and over to what you're feeling."

Leia considered that and inwardly recognized he had something of a point. She thought of their first kiss in the circuitry bay, or a few hours earlier that same day when she'd fallen into his lap in the cockpit. Without even trying, Han made her feel a tidal wave of consuming and overpowering things — things entirely outside of her control that promised to take her to intriguing, unrestrained places equally beyond her. And, yes, that had often overwhelmed and frightened her. But after years of knowing Han, she wasn't afraid to cede control and lose herself in him, in that tidal wave of pleasure he could provide; just the opposite: she longed to do so. Her issue was no longer that she feared those sensations. It was that she felt no security or safety in the outcome if she were to see it through.

The Alliance often used trust falls to help strengthen bonds within a unit, and taking this step with Han felt something like that. In Alliance training, she had never once had a problem with those exercises. She didn't fear letting herself go into the power of her partner's arms — if she was certain that partner would be standing there to catch her. But when her partner had actually told her he would be walking away, well naturally, she should fear falling backwards into the nothing he'd leave behind. It wasn't an issue of control; it was an issue of commitment and permanence, and Han's lack thereof.

"You may be right about what makes for satisfying sex," Leia granted.

"I know I'm right. Trust me, I could tell you—"

"Han," she cut him off, "if you want this conversation to go anywhere productive you won't get into the details of how and why you know that."

He grimaced sheepishly. "Noted."

"What I was going to say is that you're likely right about the elements of pleasurable sex. And you may be right that it would be good for me sometimes to just let go and let myself be out of control. I want to let go with you." Softer now, slyly, even with a hint of seduction, she added, "Back on Ord Mantell, I was letting go with you. There isn't anything further to let go than where I was ready and eager to go with you."

"I know, and that was incredible, Sweetheart," Han readily appreciated. "You were incredible."

"But," she reiterated, "I can't pretend that your leaving doesn't bother me, even when it is for a noble reason. Honorable or not, it does disturb me; it is upsetting. And if I go to bed with you, I want it to be with nothing left standing between us, no threats hanging over us. That's what I need to be able to fully let go and give over to us. I need there to be no 'if's or 'until's tarnishing it, clouding it with sadness."

She wanted making love with Han to be a celebration and affirmation of what they had and would continue to have. If that made her an idealist or someone with a compulsive need for control, then she accepted that's who she was. "I just need this to be right for me…"

Han's expression melted into tenderness and his voice along with it. "Course you do, Leia. It has to be right for you."

"And with the way things currently stand, it doesn't feel right," she said regretfully, for she truly wishing she felt otherwise. "I can't give fully of myself to what, for now, can only be a fling. So…I suppose where we go from here is up to you. I don't want it all to stop between us until you leave. But I realize physical intimacy is an important component of a relationship, and if that –– if no sex –– is a deal-breaker for you, if it means you can no longer share your bed with me, or you want us to go back to the way we were before…if you want us to be just friends, then I understand."

Han could only look at Leia an aghast moment before collecting himself enough to respond. "Skrag, you must think I'm a real son of a bitch."

"But I don't," she reaffirmed. "It has nothing to do with you personally, I swear it."

"No, you must think I'm a real son of a bitch if you think 'cos you don't want to have sex I won't want anything more to do with you. Sweetheart, that might be true if all I wanted from you was sex," Han assented. "But I'm not just after sex. Don't even just want sex with you. I want you. All of you. Every part of you, and everything that goes with it. I wasn't upset because you didn't want to go any further. I was upset because I didn't want it to be about you thinking I don't care enough to stay, or that I'm putting something else above you. It's because you are my priority that I have to do this. To stay, knowing any minute something might happen to you because of me? Kriff, Leia, I think I'd go insane."

Leia nodded, comprehending his situation perfectly because it was hers, too, only in the opposite way. Every moment of their lovemaking knowing he was still going to leave her? That would be too painful to endure.

She heaved a shaky sigh and set her forehead to his chest. "I understand how this could feel like a punishment, though it's not meant that way. I know it's a disappointment. I'm sorry that I'm not –– that I can't be freer with––"

"Leia, stop," he broke in. "Don't say that, don't be sorry. Kest. It's your body. What you do with it is up to you. You don't owe anyone a damn thing, least of all me." Han wrapped his arm around her, his opposite hand sliding up to rest at the nape of neck, fingers softly toying with her braids. "Believe it or not, I get what you're saying. You got a right to refuse me, no matter what. But this? Kriff, Princess. You want to share your body with me –– something you've never done before –– just not when I'm lightin' out the next day. How could I be mad about that? Sounds perfectly reasonable to me."

He felt her sigh again, the warmth of her breath spreading tantalizingly over his collarbone. "And, Sweetheart?" He waited until she lifted her head, until he captured her eyes. "We've never been 'just friends'. Ain't never gonna be 'just friends', no matter what happens. What we got here is too much more than that."

He bent to press a tender kiss to her forehead, smiling when she tipped up her chin and offered her mouth to him instead. Forget a 'good' kiss; what they both could use right now was a makeup kiss, with all the comfort, reassurance and shared affection that went along with it.

Han kissed her and she kissed him back –– once, twice, not wanting to stop. Leia was just beginning to deepen their kiss when the door to the crew quarters whooshed open.

Chewbacca stopped short at the sight of the embracing pair. [Aureate told me the two of you were having an argument. I didn't realize you'd already reconciled. I apologize for interrupting.]

"You're not interrupting," Leia assured him.

Chewbacca was about to say more but seemed to think better of it and closed his mouth. Leia could tell, however, that something was unsettling him.

Sensing he wanted a one-on-one moment with Han, she courteously announced, "I think I'll go see if I can scrounge something up for dinner.

Chewie moved aside so Leia could exit the room. Once she had, he walked the rest of the way inside the space and palmed the door closed behind him. Stepping in close to Han, the Wookiee gave him a stern look. [Aureate could not understand what you and Little Princess were fighting about, but I think I may know. He said you mentioned the planet of our crash, and—]

"Threepio said it was about Ord Mantel?" Han interjected, wishing for at least the hundredth time that he would have left the bothersome — and apparently eavesdropping! — droid back on Hoth.

[—and], Chewbacca continued his sentence undeterred, [that you spoke of the changes since then.] Chewie's tone shifted into a warning register. [I know what happened on that island, how I found the two of you….]

When his copilot had come to the rescue, chasing off Boba Fett, Chewbacca happened upon what had been an obviously private scene: Han, naked as the day he was born, and Leia in a scarcely more appropriate state, wearing just his discarded shirt and nothing else. Han was very aware of how it looked then and could guess what Chewie was getting at now.

He looked away, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly. "Yeah, well, Goldenrod's got a big mouth. And doesn't know what he's talking about."

[You must be careful, Cub. Don't be a cad. I know you want her, but you cannot be angry with Little Princess because she won't mate with you.]

Han didn't ask how Chewie knew that he and Leia hadn't slept together, already aware that the Wook's extra-perceptive senses would enlighten him through pheromones alone as soon as they took things to the next level — a whole different discussion to have with her. Still, he would have expected Chewbacca to give him more credit than that. "I'm not a cad, Chewie. Fuck, what is this? Just 'cos I'm the man it's automatically assumed I'm in the wrong?"

[When it comes to mating, there is no wrong for her. She decides], Chewbacca firmly upheld. [And it does not matter why or how she comes to that decision.]

"I know that. Kriff, Chewie. Have you ever known me to try getting around a women's consent?"

[Not ignore it, no. You would never do anything without a being's consent; I certainly believe that of you. But even to use levels of persuasion is more than––]

"'M not tryin' to persuade her!" Han protested indignantly.

[You may not think you are, but in the heat of desire males of every species tend to lose their better heads], Chewbacca shrewdly observed.

While Han could appreciate Chewie's attempt to protect Leia, it still rankled that his copilot seemed to be implying he wouldn't afford her that same respect. "I'm not pressuring her. I wouldn't pressure her. I fuckin' love her, Chewie! And I want her, yeah, I want her. Been wantin' her since Yavin. Wantin' her so much I know you can smell it on me. But it ain't even about that."

Han's outrage fizzled out, morphing into anguish in the face of what it was about. "Leia's still mad at me," he revealed brokenly, emotions running too high to try to hide how wrecked he was by that. "She says she's not, but she is."

Chewie reached out a paw and rubbed the much-younger man's shoulder, fondly consoling. Even by human standards, Chewbacca would be older, with all the sageness that afforded. Through the eyes of a Wookiee, with the wisdom of all his many additional years, the galaxy could look very different. Particularly the ins and outs of interpersonal relationships that seemed so vital and dire to humans, a Wookiee had the ability to correctly perceive for how fleeting and minor they truly were in the larger scope of things.

[I doubt that, Cub. She has favored you with plenty of her affections. I've walked in on it more times than I've cared to. From everything I've observed that is not behavior Little Princess partakes in lightly. I cannot image she would do so if she were truly angry with you.]

"Okay, maybe not mad," Han yielded to Chewie's keen insight, "but…upset…unhappy –– somethin' that means this is still standin' between us. Fett and Ord Mantell and the fact I gotta leave her."

[From all I know of the two of you, both before and on our little adventure now, it is my guess that Little Princess has never before mated. Such a thing would explain her hesitancy. And I would advise you, Cub, that mating is often a bigger risk for the female of a species than the male –– none more so than in the human species, with the strange ideas you have around society, love, and virtue. For someone who is a princess, reared in the strict standards of human aristocracy, the risk will be even greater. And for one such as Little Princess, who hasn't much left to lose, the risk must be colossal. ]

"I understand all that, Chewie. I see where she's coming from. And I think she does see where I'm coming from, too. She called it a 'noble reason' to go," he echoed Leia's words with a proud smile, still so pleased at any proof that she thought highly of him.

But Han's smile soon faltered before erasing entirely, and he shook his head broodingly. "Just feel like I'm lettin' her down. She's only hurting now because of the stupid, selfish mistakes of my past."

[Wrong], Chewie contested. [She is hurting because the Hutt is a rancor's asshole.]

Han cracked a fresh smile at that and Chewie growled affectionately.

[The selfish thing would be to stay and mate with Little Princess rather than protect her. We both know that, for years, there's nothing you've wanted more than that. You could have made that choice, and she would have accepted you. Instead, you are acting with the best interest of your partner at heart. That is all a being can be expected to do and all that is in their control.]

Han nodded. "Yeah…I suppose. Just wish things were different."

[We all do], Chewie replied stoically. [I wish this stubborn ship of yours would fly properly so I wouldn't be trapped here with a longwinded droid and two humans in heat.] He mussed Cub's hair, almost of a length to do a Wookiee proud.

Han laughed, shrugging off Chewie's paw. "Will ya quit it! Only Leia can do that."

[I imagine you get something far different out of it when she does], Chewbacca teased.

"You bet I do. And I, for one, am kriffing glad we're trapped here –– except for the Golden One." The trip as a whole had been a godsend. If it wasn't for the busted hyperdrive he still wouldn't know how Leia's mouth tasted, how it felt to have her fingers curled into passionate fistfuls of his hair, the sound of her whimpering his name in desire –– or most lovely of all, hearing her admit her feelings for him in reality and not just a dream. "This trip has been very, very good for us."

Han knew Chewbacca was about to made a lewd remark and he forestalled him by conceding, "Yeah, I know: for Leia and me, anyway. If you and Malla were stuck in open space for a while, you'd be enjoyin' it, too."

[That I would], Chewie grinned. [I can see the both of you certainly are, and make no mistake, I'm glad for that. Little Princess will mate with you someday, Cub. I'm certain I won't be able to keep the two of you off one another long enough to get anything else done. She will bear your younglings one day, I know this. You'll make beautiful cubs, and have plenty of practice in between.]

"Hope so." Han gave a smirk, smacking Chewbacca's back in comradery. "'S settled then. No need to protect the honor of the most badass woman either of us has ever met. Let's go find her and drink to that."

Chewie woofed approvingly and began to follow him out the door when Han stopped short and turned back.

"Only, y'know, the badass part. Don't gotta mention to Leia the whole future sex and kids stuff."

Chewbacca rolled his blue eyes. [Do you think me a simpleton, Cub? I'm not the one forever getting into trouble with Little Princess for saying too much.]

---

The rest of the day, Leia and Han behaved almost normally with one another. It was perfectly civil and amiable, but their interactions noticeably lacked the regular flirtation and innuendo that colored all of their time together as of late. They hadn't kissed since Chewie walked in on them earlier, nor had they so much as mentioned their argument or Leia's decision to abstain from sex.

As the day cycle gave way to night, an invisible tension began to descend, an awkwardness that increased exponentially the later and later it got. Far past their normal time to be in bed, the pair continued to hover self-consciously in the common areas. First, in the main hold; then, when Leia was brave enough to announce she was turning in, the uneasy shuffle headed to the crew quarters as each surreptitiously waited to see where the other would go.

Finally, Han could take no more and seized Leia's hand in both of his. "Sweetheart, this is ridiculous."

"It is!" she agreed with a nervous laugh, grateful that he chose to address it.

"Things have been off between us ever since we get into it earlier over Ord Mantell." He paused, waiting to see if she'd deny it, but she nodded in concurrence.

Han cleared his throat awkwardly, buying some time. "I, uh, I know we don't see eye-to-eye about what happens once we get back to the fleet." He saw her gearing up and put out his hand to stop her. "I'm not tryin' to argue about it. I'm just sayin', that's the way it is."

She nodded again, regarding him with a carefully even expression. "All right."

"But I know I still want to be with you, Leia. Not like before, like we have been now –– free and open and real with each other. Still wanna hold you and kiss you. I'm still crazy about you." He brought her hand up to his lips and laid a soft kiss against her knuckles. "The only question is do you still want that? 'Cos, honey, bein' honest? It kinda seems like you don't."

"Yes, I want that." She slid her hand from his grasp to cup his cheek, giving him a wry look. "How could you think I don't when all of Hoth could attest to as much? Anyone can see how crazy you make me."

"Okay. Well, good. That's good." He gave a small smile, extremely tempted to leave it there, to take whatever he could get, but in the end he had to ask. "So then why –– I mean, it seems like you've been distant since our argument."

"Have I?" Leia hadn't thought she'd been. She was trying to come off as laidback and relaxed, but considering it through his eyes, she realized she had been a little cool toward him. Not intentionally; she'd been bracing herself, waiting. "Maybe I have been distant. But only because I felt like you were."

"Not distant," Han repudiated, shaking his head. "Giving you space, giving you the lead. Just trying to feel you out, see where we stand now. Don't want to overstep anything and make you uncomfortable."

"And I was…" She trailed off, sighing as she brought her hand from his cheek back down to her side. "There's no point in putting up pretense here: this isn't what you had in mind for us. We both know it's not what you want. I was giving you a chance to change your mind."

"Change my mind?" he scoffed. "Haven't changed it in three years, and you weren't sleeping with me then either. Don't you get it, Leia? There is no changing my mind –– believe me, I spent long enough trying. You don't have to worry about that 'cos it ain't gonna happen. I'm a lost cause when it comes to you, Worship."

"Do you really mean that? Because it's not too late to back out," Leia stressed.

"Course I mean it," Han derided, as if suggesting otherwise was ludicrous. "How many ways does a guy gotta say it? You want a blood oath from me, woman?" he hassled in teasing exasperation. "'M sure Goldenrod's got a detailed index of cultures and their rituals to do it."

She held his eyes assessingly. "I'm being serious here, Han."

"So am I." He determinedly held her gaze right back. "If that's what it takes, I'll do it."

There was a moment of stalemate, but whatever she saw in his eyes must have satisfied her, for Leia's began to sparkle with mischief, her lips twitching to hold off a smile.

"No," she allowed in her most princessly tone, "you may keep your blood inside your body. For now," she added, no longer fighting off the smirk.

"Mighty big of you, Highness," Han grinned a second before he wrapped her up in his arms. "You really thought I was gonna let you get away with sleeping somewhere else?"

"Well…" Leia bit her lip, relaxed enough to be able to laugh at herself. "I thought you might prefer––"

"I prefer you right here," Han said, cupping the crown of her head and gently bringing her cheek to his chest, where she always rested it whenever he held her this way. "Now, c'mon." He took her hand, turning to walk into the captain's quarters and towing her right along with him. "Let's go to bed. I promise not to touch you."

Han stopped moving when he encountered the resistance of her deadweight on the other side of his arm and swung back to face her questioningly.

Leia hadn't intended to come to a standstill. It just sounded so awful out loud, his earnest vow to keep hands-off. It left her feeling every inch the Ice Princess beings made her out to be. "I never said you couldn't touch me," she quietly insisted. "The last thing I want is to go back to pretending that we don't want each other. I don't have the strength for it anymore. Nor do I want to deprive myself now that I know how good it is, how good we are together. I still want you to touch me, and hold me, and kiss me. Gods, Han, you know what you do to me. Of course I still want that. I want all of that, just not sex. Not yet."

She looked like she was about to go on, so he stopped her. "Sweetheart, it's okay. It was just a bad joke." Still, the suggestive timbre of her voice when she spoke of wanting him brought home the necessity of at least one quasi guideline staying in place. "But I do think your 'no kissing in the bedroom' rule is a good idea."

"I never made that rule," she balked. "…I just never did it."

"Might be a good rule to have, though," Han maintained. "A man's got his limits. There's only so much I can take. And you, Princess –– all soft and warm and half-naked lying next to me –– are an awful lot to withstand. If you added kissing and touching into the mix, I might go crazy. Right now you got me conditioned: the bedroom is for sleeping and snugglin'. Now in the cockpit…or the galley, or the hold? You got me accustomed to other things in there. That's where you gotta worry," he mischievously leered.

"But I'm not worried. Don't be skittish around me. If you want to touch me, you have my full license to do so."

"If?" he echoed incredulously.

"Okay, when. You don't have to hold back. We both know I'm very good at deflecting –– and at reprimanding, and at saying no. When and if I want to." Leia smiled archly. "It turns out, with you, I simply have an extremely high threshold before 'no' even begins to want to kick in."

His arms found their way around her waist again, drawing her in. "And what exactly is that boundary, Worship?" His voice came out teasing, and he meant it that way, but it was also information he genuinely needed to know. "Gotta be able to steer clear of it in the future."

"Hm..." While she valued his commitment to her comfort and having clear boundaries in place to ensure that, there wasn't any particular set thing that she considered out of line. And she didn't necessarily want firmly spelled-out boundaries with him, as long as it was understood that things wouldn't be going as far as actual sex. Of course, what one classified as 'actual sex' was something of a personal definition they probably would have to get into eventually. For now, if they simply avoided skirting too far along the sex route it would be fine.

"There isn't any firm line I need you not to cross, or any one thing I want you to avoid," she told him. "If I don't want something, I'll ask you to stop. It only becomes dicey for me when I get to the point where I'm ready to rip both our clothes off."

Han's eyes darkened with interest. "Yeah? You been gettin' there a lot, Leia?"

"More and more." She looped her arms around his hips, tugging him against her by his belt. "Almost all the time. If it were only a month ago, if we were still on Hoth…"

"No Vader," Han nodded, followed closely by Leia's blissful echo of, "And no Fett."

"We'd be having sex right now," she finished in a sly whisper.

"I like the sound of that," he answered, his voice a low rumble.

"I like the sound of this." She pulled him down for a long, slow, purposely loud kiss –– in the hatchway of the captain's quarters, so technically still following his rule.