AN: A jump back into Han/Leia land! My dearest thanks go to Lajulie24 for her work on this story.

They'd spent the first quiet evening of their trip holed up in the cockpit, "keeping watch". Neither of them had been watching, exactly, because, as Leia discovered, it was hard to pay attention to much of anything when he was kissing her hard and long and slow. But then, hungry, insatiable kisses-those made it hard to breathe.

Oh well, she supposed, because it's not like there was much to watch out for anyways. The ship's alarm certainly would have startled them out of their amorousness if it had gone off, as would shooting or a severe ship malfunction.

So, she did not feel altogether too guilty about spending that first night of their 30 day sub-light haul astride Han's lap, kissing him senseless.

00

The chrono read late in the morning when Leia woke up, feeling like she'd spent the evening doing shots of vodka straight from the bottle. Her temples were pounding, her brain was foggy, and her body felt sluggish. She tried to lie still and think of his kisses to get her mind off her heaving stomach, but she found even the memory of his lips against hers couldn't erase the feeling that she was utterly sick.

It shouldn't have surprised her as much as it did-there had been a bug going around the base just before the evacuation, and she'd been keeping it at bay with adrenaline, caffeine, and, in the last 24 hours, hormones. Now that she'd taken the time to rest, however, the illness had caught up with her.

Determined to pull herself together, Leia tied her hair up and dressed. Han was in the lounge, working on a circuit board. He followed Leia into the galley with his kaffe cup. He poured Leia a cup when she held one out, and then met her lips in a gentle kiss.

The caffeine and the rations she had for breakfast did a little to help ease her pounding head, and she was able to help Han with some microfusing for a few hours before she offered to take over from Chewbacca on the watch shift.

Several hours later, Leia was curled up in Chewbacca's chair, staring dazedly out at the stars. That was where Han found her when he came up to the cockpit under the guise of checking the navicomputer, though he was likely seeking a kiss to tide him over til later. Her eyes looked a little glazed, not like someone who was just daydreaming. She looked sick.

"You don't look good, Worship." He plopped down in his chair and turned toward her. She shrugged. He put his hand to her forehead and found that it was burning up. "Come on, it's freezing out here." She took his proffered hand without argument.

Han cleared a place on the acceleration couch for her. She sat down and drew her knees up to her chest once again, finding a spot on the wall to stare at the same way she'd been looking out the viewport. Han resumed his work, cleaning the carbon scoring and old wiring from a circuit board.

Leia's head was pounding more than it had been a few minutes before and the harsh lighting of the lounge was boring into her eyes like a plasma cutter. She folded her arms across her knees and put her forehead on them, blocking out some of the light. Han was right-it was warmer in here, and despite her pounding head and foggy thoughts, his presence was comforting.

She listened as he worked, the sound of the hydrospanner drilling into her ears. He finally finished his task and began packing things away. When he was finished packing up, he came back to the acceleration couch and sat beside her. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"You've got a fever, Leia." She didn't argue and Han wondered just how sick she actually was.

"It's the adrenaline wearing off. And the caffeine."

"And you haven't slept in about three years."

She sighed. "And...I did a med scan earlier, while you and Chewie were busy. I have the influenza that was going around the base."

"At least we know it's nothing serious," he said. "C'mere." He tugged gently at her hand, pulling her toward his chest.

"I don't want to get you sick," Leia protested, turning her head away. "If I didn't give it to you last night, kriff," she muttered.

"Hey, hey, I had it when it started to go around," he soothed. "We can kiss as much as you want." This tease was accompanied with a waggling brow.

"I don't think I can kiss and breathe at the same time," she sniffled. Han chuckled. He tugged gently on her hand and brought her to rest on his chest. He rubbed gently at the muscles in her back, drawing his hands up to her hairline.

"Take the braids out," she requested. Alderaanian culture would have prohibited such an action, but it was one of the things that Leia was willing to let go of, especially with how hard her head was pounding.

Slowly, he ran his fingers around the crown of braids on her head, gently tugging pins from it until the braids were hanging down her back. Leia had remained perfectly still and he wondered if she'd fallen asleep until she spoke quietly.

Han hesitated for a moment before pulling the tiny elastics off the end of the braids and placing them with the pile of pins on the table next to them. He combed his fingers through her hair. Soon, it was loose and spilling everywhere. Han couldn't resist running his fingers through it, combing out the snarls. She coughed a few times into his chest and he heard it rattling in her throat.

"That sounds pretty bad," he murmured. Leia shrugged.

"That feels good," she whispered. Han brought his hands to her neck and began kneading the tense muscles.

"It's almost midnight and you're half asleep. Maybe you should go to bed." Something like disappointment flashed through her eyes. "The heater's on the fritz in the crew quarters, so you can stay in my cabin till I can fix it."

Leia sighed.

"Will you stay with me?" Leia had no idea where the question came from. Every logical circuit in her brain was slamming into overdrive, telling her all the reasons this was a bad idea.

Except she did know where the question came from. This was the first time in months—years, maybe—that she'd felt like this. Safe, secure, warm, peaceful…loved, even. She didn't want it to end. It was more than the way she felt when he kissed her or ran his hands down her body. It was the way he made her feel in every other moment, too.

"Are you sure?" Han asked, seeing the apprehension on her face.

She gave him a measured look. 'Trust him.' This was a voice in her head that she heard often but rarely listened to: her sense of survival. You need him, Leia Organa. You need him more than you need anything in this galaxy right now, and not just because you're ill. She gave one furtive glance toward the open bunk room door at the narrow, sterile bunks set into the wall and looked back at Han.

"Yes."