AN: Here we go with chapter five! Just a disclaimer before we begin: This chapter contains serious themes of sexism and racism. I understand that, especially right now, these are very sensitive topics in the world. I did my utmost to handle these issues in the way they might have been handled in 1966 by these characters. I did not mean to offend in any way, shape, or form. I wanted realism, and I hope you respect my creative choices. Please know that I align myself with Leia in regards to these issues: it is the content of someone's character, not their gender or the color of their skin, that makes them who they are. If you want to skip that section, scroll down about half-way and just know that Leia is a badass.

And because that is all very serious, the second half of this bigger-than-normal chapter is something very light and fluffy that I think you guys will definitely like.

Lawyering

Later that Evening, June, 1966

Han held the door open for Leia and another couple who were entering the bar. They took a table near the back and each ordered a drink. Han was just about to ask her if she had any other mysterious brothers he should be aware of when he heard someone called his name from the bar.

"Why, Han Solo, ya'ole pirate." Leia turned to see the owner of the voice. A man in a flamboyant blue sequined jacket was walking toward their table, his hand outstretched to Han. The two men greeted each other with hearty slaps on the back.

"Lando Calrissian, I'll be damned." They both spoke at once for a moment until Lando turned his attention to Leia.

"Hell-o. Who do we have here? I'm Lando Calrissian, owner of the Tibanna Club down the street. Who might you be?"

"Leia," she replied icily as he took her hand and kissed it.

"Leia," he repeated. "Groovy. You are beautiful," he purred.

"Alright, yo'll smoothie," Han interrupted, taking Leia's hand. He was pleased that she allowed him to hold it for few minutes before she pulled back and reached for her drink. Lando and Han reminisced briefly about their high school days together before talk turned to Lando's business.

"I'll tell you Han, there's good money to be made in this town, if you know what I mean," Lando leaned toward Han and lowered his voice.

"Careful what you say," Han warned, tilting his head toward Leia. He wasn't sure if there were any rules about politicians having to report about anything illegal they'd overheard, and he knew that what Lando was about to reveal was probably not strictly above-board. Lando looked panicked for a moment.

"You a Fed?" he asked. Leia snorted.

"An attorney. Don't worry; the worst thing that could happen is I could hate you."

"An attorney, huh? I'd have figured you for something less…professional. Cocktail waitress, secretary…kindergarten teacher…" he listed. Leia contemplated throwing her drink in his face and walking out.

"I find it rather rewarding," she responded shortly.

"Isn't that a lot of schooling to go through just to have a job for a few years before leaving to raise your family?" Lando asked seriously. Leia found herself ascending to a new level of hatred for this man.

"I don't intend to leave my job to raise my family if I decide to have a family at all."

"You know, you're awfully opinionated, for a girl," he stated. Han knew Lando was going to regret those words. He watched, slightly daunted, as the ire grew in Leia's eyes. She drew herself up to her full height, and though they both still towered over her, it was surprisingly terrifying.

"What do you mean, 'for a girl?' Just because I am a woman means that I am supposed to be quiet and submissive, right?" she asked Lando, walking slowly toward him like a lioness stalking her prey. Han pitied anyone she ever faced down in court or in the political arena.

Actually, he didn't think he'd ever be able to lie to her.

"That's not exactly what I…" Lando began.

"Do you believe that I am too fragile to think for myself?" she asked. Lando was sitting down by then, but she continued her advance. "Do my ideas threaten you, Mr. Calrissian? Does the fact that I don't need you or any man to make up my mind for me threaten you? Does it bother you that I don't need you to tell me the ways of the world?"

"No. That's not it," Lando finally choked out. Leia backed off immediately, returning to her chair.

"What did you mean, then?" she asked, not taking her eyes off him.

"Just that…most women don't just say what they're thinking. You're…brave, I guess."

"Thank you." The tension in the air hadn't dissipated yet when the owner of the bar came over and spoke gruffly to Lando.

"Hey! Why don't you just move on, buddy, and leave these folks alone." Lando was immediately even more sober, ducking his head and trying to make himself look insignificant.

"Excuse me. He has just as much right to be here as any patron," Leia demanded of the barkeep before he could walk away. Her tone was polite and her face was calm, but Han could tell she wasn't done with lawyering for the evening. He sat back, knowing that there was no stopping her now.

The man turned back to look at her with the same surprised expression Lando had worn when Leia had first called him out.

"What was that, little lady?"

"I said," she stated slowly, "that Mr. Calrissian has just as much right here as anybody. He's a paying customer, so he can't be thrown out on loitering charges. He's not bothering us or any of the other patrons, so he can't be thrown out for harassment. He's not publicly intoxicated, and he is not disrupting the business of this establishment. I was just wondering why you think he should 'move along'." Leia asked. This statement seemed to anger the man, and he took a threatening step toward Leia. Han slid his chair back slightly, ready to pull her out of harm's way should the need arise.

"His kind don't belong here," the man sneered, leaning into Lando's space. Lando shrank out of the way, looking at the floor.

"His kind?" Leia asked innocently. You'd better know what you're doin', woman, Han thought to himself. "I don't understand. Will you explain that remark, please?" The man faltered just slightly at the request.

"You know," he replied, regaining his cocky attitude and gesturing to Lando's arm, his skin dark against the white Formica of the table.

"Why sir, are you suggesting that Mr. Calrissian can't be here because of the color of his skin?" Leia asked with perfectly feigned innocence. "Because that is certainly what it sounds like: discrimination. But that can't be right, because segregation has been illegal in the District of Columbia since 1953—well, technically forever, since the law that created it was unconstitutional—but it has been decidedly illegal for more than a decade, sir." Her polite persona fell away and she was back to scary lawyer Leia. "I certainly hope that you're not suggesting that, sir, because, not only could Mr. Calrissian sue you for a considerable amount of money, but you could also lose your licenses and your credibility." The man (who'd seemingly forgot that he was offended and that a woman was handing him his head on a platter) balked.

"I…I…"

"I recommend you go back to running your establishment and bring us our checks, please." Leia turned back toward the table, an obvious dismissal of the man. He returned a few moments later with their tabs, angrily slapping the paper on the table. They left the money on the table and started towards the door.

The owner grabbed Leia by the arm as they passed by.

"I don't ever want to see you in my bar again," he hissed.

"Let go of me," she demanded. The man roughly released her and she walked out with her head held high.

"Damn. You are a lawyer," Lando smiled weakly when they were down the street. She nodded. "Too bad. You'd have made a great cocktail waitress," he teased. Leia rolled her eyes. "Thanks, though, for that. You didn't have to help me, 'specially after how I treated you earlier."

"I don't get much time before the bench anymore. It's good to know I've still got it," she responded diplomatically.

"Groovy. If you're ever free some night, I'd like to take you to dinner—not at my place," he added when he caught her expression.

"Thanks, but I'm taken," she responded as he kissed her hand. Han's eyes flashed quickly to Leia's, but he couldn't read what was written there. Their relationship was still in limbo, wasn't it?

"Lucky fellow. See ya'round, Han." The men shook hands and Lando started back toward his restaurant. Leia and Han walked down the block to where his olive-green station wagon was parked.

"Why'd'ya do that? I mean, the guy was bein' a dick, I agree. But why'd you play him like that?"

"Sometimes, people like that just need to see from another perspective how utterly stupid they're being. I'm not saying he won't ever say or do something like that again, but I planted the seed of doubt in his mind. Next time he does something bigoted, he will remember getting told off by a 28-year-old in his own bar," Leia explained, looking out the window at the neon lights as they drove out of the city toward the suburbs.

"Where is this all coming from?" he asked.

"No one deserves to be treated that way, even sexist scum like Lando." Han laughed out loud.

"You don't like Lando?" he ribbed.

"He's very charming, but I don't trust him," Leia shot back. His chuckling died down and he asked her a final, serious question.

"Is there something you're not telling me about all this? Not just this thing tonight— why you always beat out inequality with a stick, why you work so damn hard all the time?" She was silent for a moment and Han wondered if he'd overstepped his boundaries.

"My father was killed by white supremacists for defending a black man in court," she said in a slow, practiced calm. He was silent, not sure how to respond to such information. "I don't want to talk about it," she added quickly afterward.

He nodded and tried to think of a new topic. Failing in that search, he flipped on the radio. One of The Beatles' new songs was playing, and he hoped that the cheery tune would bring her into better spirits.

"Wait, why are you turning here?" she demanded. "You're going to get stuck on the wrong side of the river!"

"Relax and let me do the drivin', please." She huffed and sat back against the seat. Han knew the road would definitely not get them back to Leia's apartment, but he knew she would just have to correct him, which would put her back in her normal, feisty mood that he liked so much.

Twenty minutes later, they'd wound their way through several different neighborhoods and he'd been scolded more than when he'd tried to make mud pies in his granny's wedding china. Feisty Leia was back and more than willing to tell him why his way was the wrong way.

When they were finally back on the main road, he turned down the radio.

"You done being an attorney for the night?" he asked.

"Why?" she responded. "Does it bother you?"

"I'll take that as a 'no'," he replied. She smiled as she realized what she'd just done.

"I have a few briefs to read before I fall asleep, but I suppose I can take a few minutes off."

"Good. My turn. Why did you tell Lando that you're taken?"

"I would have told Lando just about anything if it meant that he stopped kissing my hand," she answered, but he could tell that wasn't the only reason.

"Did you have anyone in mind?" Leia was silent for a few moments.

"Maybe," she answered cryptically. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and found her studying him closely.

"Maybe…a devastatingly handsome man with a bear-dog?" he asked, and she giggled.

"Maybe."

"No fair. You said you weren't going to lawyer."

"I don't recall signing any contracts."

He pulled to the curb in front of her building and walked her up to the doorway. She stepped up on the stoop and pulled out her mailbox key, extracting the envelopes and flipping through them before closing the box and accidentally pinching her finger. He took her hand and began to massage it, focusing momentarily on the pinched knuckle but quickly turning it into an excuse to hold her hands in his. The added height of the stoop made her almost even with him, and he took the rare opportunity to look straight into her eyes.

"Why are you trembling?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm not trembling," she countered defiantly. He raised his eyebrows.

"You're not, hmm? Alright, then. You want it to be official? Be stuck with a devastatingly handsome man with a bear-dog?"

"I'll have to have a look at the terms and conditions first," she teased.

"Hey, no lawyering, remember? What do you say?" He tried to give her a smirk, but it turned out less as a smirk and more like a dopey grin. He put his hand on her waist and pulled her to the edge of the step.

"I say you're a scoundrel. Accosting a lady while she checks her mail..." He could tell that she was trying to sound reproachful, but it came out as a breathy whisper. His arm snaked around her waist and drew her closer.

"Nah. I'm helping an injured princess. I'm a nice guy," he corrected, covering her tiny hand with his.

"No, you're not. You're…" she was obviously struggling to think about anything, because her eyes had been on his lips for the last several seconds. They were millimeters apart, but he waited for her to make the last move. She took a breath and closed the distance.

Kissing Leia Organa was infinitely better than he could have ever imagined.

She tasted a little like the mint julep she'd ordered at the bar and like the cherry lipstick she was fond of. He'd had less than half of his whiskey over an hour ago, but she was making him feel completely drunk. Her arms were around his neck and her fingers were combing through his hair. He pulled her closer and she made a noise into his mouth between a giggle and a moan and he was just about to pull her feet off the ground when someone tapped him on the shoulder. Han pulled his mouth away reluctantly, looking to see who'd dared to disturb them.

"Excuse me, sir." It was the crotchety old man, Mr. Po, who lived in apartment C3. He was dressed in his gold metallic trench coat that reminded Han of something he saw on 'The Twilight Zone' as a kid. Light from the stairwell reflected off his mile-thick, circular glasses and made his eyes appear to be glowing, further giving the old man the appearance of a robot.

"What?" Han growled, not taking his arms from around Leia's waist.

"You're blocking the doorway," the man rasped in his unidentifiable accent, shaking his fist at Han. They stepped out of the way and the old man hobbled his way up the stairs like his joints needed greasing, his little white dog skittering along behind him, yipping loudly. "Come on, Artie," the man beckoned his dog up the stairs.

"Okay, hotshot," she whispered when the door closed behind the odd pair.

"Okay what?"

"Okay, you've got me. Now what are you going to do to keep me?" He smiled at her for a moment before finding a far better use for his mouth.

AN: Next week: Angst, Leia's real backstory, cuteness, Han's backstory, cuteness and angst. A regular minuet and trio in writing form. Again, I am always available on tumblr and I love reviews! I love to hear your thoughts, questions, and predictions!