DECENTLY IMPORTANT A/N!: Okay, I'm really worried about this chapter. I've gotten a lot of compliments on both sites ALS is on about taking time with Han and Leia's relationship and I really want to keep it that way! I'm scared that this chapter is too rushed, so . . . if you even feel for a second that it is . . . please tell me! It's okay. I'd really love to know. I don't know. I've been stressing over this chapter like crazy and I want every ALS chapter to be perfect. Please be honest and drop me a comment on what you think. Thanks!

When her hand met the small Nabooan blaster's dark handle, in her mind came a flash of the old times when she could pick one of these up and not hurt from all the memories. No, for Sabé, it wasn't memories of the blaster. It was more like the association this kind of blaster held with her former job, her former boss, her late friend. Nearly disgusted with herself as she felt her eyes begin to sting, Sabé quickly brushed them with the back of her hand and snatched another blaster from the cabinet, hurrying back to the training gym. There she found the young princess where she'd left her, standing before a bag hanging from the ceiling, practicing punches on it. Leia stopped when she saw Sabé returning, withdrew from the dummy and frowned when her gaze met the blasters in Sabé's hands.

"What are those for?" she asked, a glimmer of hope shining in her eyes and the older woman couldn't help but laugh.

"These?" she asked with a thrilled smile, setting them down carefully on the hard floor. She crossed the gym and opened a large sack to begin setting up orange targets and told Leia, "Well, those are only a sign of victory, a sign of accomplishment. Feed on this, young one. I finally got through to your father."

"He's letting me start training with blasters?" Leia's voice was excited, anxious, disbelieving. Sabé could only laugh again, gesturing to the weapons with a nod of her head. "Oh, yes! He's given me the permission and I'm calling it now: this is going to be a great day, Leia! A wonderful, magnificent day!"

Sabé finished setting up the targets, went back to Leia's side and handed her one of the two blasters. "This," she started out and smiled at the eagerness painted so clearly on Leia's face. "Is your new best friend. The Nabooan Q2 hold-out blaster. A real beauty to behold, but you'd better treat her nice or else the two of you going to have biiig problems." Sabé stopped to check her blaster's functioning and Leia took the moment to admire the beautiful weapon. Handcrafted especially for Royal Naboo Security Forces, it was small but deadly. Compact and easy to hide with a smooth design, they were something of a wonder, a work of genius architect. And her and Han had already trained with this kind of blaster. Kriff, what was she going to do? If Sabé realized Leia already knew how to handle blasters, she would obviously want to know how . . . and Leia wasn't sure how to answer to that.

She tried to keep a sloppy hold on the Q2's handle and waited for her instructor to turn, see, and correct her. She gripped her fingers so they held the weapon lower than she should have and made it a stretch for her thumb to reach its proper place. Sure enough, Sabé took to note the flaw and sighed. "Trust me," she said, moving Leia's fingers about the handle. "Your grip on a weapon should always feel comfortable. If it doesn't, you're holding it wrong."

Leia let her own fingers slide to their proper, comfortable position and she waited for Sabé's further instruction. The woman showed her how to stand, how to hold the blaster out and how to keep her gaze. She showed Leia how to properly pull the trigger and when. All of which, Leia already knew. When it came her turn to take a shot at the orange targets, Leia pretended to hesitate, be sure she was doing everything right . . . then she pulled the Q2's bronze trigger and watched the laser-fire nail the target's center.

Fear rose in Leia's throat and the horrific feeling only increased when she turned to see a stunned Sabé staring at the target in utter shock, her mouth hanging wide open. "You . . . did it," the Nabooan woman managed, rising and starting for the target to get a closer look. "You . . . hit the center. The very center, Leia." Now standing less than a foot away from the target, she turned back to look to Leia and her eyes took their turn to go wide now. "How did you do that? Huh, Leia? How did you, after an hour of just watching me, nail the target? Huh? You don't know?" She hurried back to Leia's side, took her blaster from her and refilled the power pack before handing it back. "Shoot me another," she requested and stepped back, watching very closely as Leia prepared the next shot and nailed another target.

Leia froze, considered acting cocky and shoot another one, but grazing the edge instead and calling it luck. However, before Leia could fire off one more shot, Sabé snatched the weapon from her hands and a spark came to her eyes in curious wonder. "You know, I was even younger than you when I started training with these." She indicated her own Q2. "In service to my queen, we'd spend whole days together, working on our aim, our speed, our rapid response. None of us ever made quite the shot that fast. Most certainly not on the first day. No, we'd train hours, weeks, months trying to become that good. It's almost like . . . like you've already been taught."

"No!" Leia quickly shouted back, faking alarm as she took the blaster back. "Sabé, I swear, you're my only teacher. I would never betray you like that."

"I'd never consider it betrayal. I only wonder who taught you to fire so well."

"No one," Leia shook her head, again loosening her grip on the blaster. "This is the first time I've ever handled a blaster."

"You must mistake me for a fool to think I'll accept that lie. Come, now! Where did you learn to fire targets so well?"

"Nowhere!"

"Where?"

"No-"

"Who! Who taught the princess to shoot?" Sabé caught a flicker of vulnerability in Leia and she smiled widely, handing her back the blaster. "Well? Come on, now. Show me how well you've been taught."

Hesitantly, Leia took back the blaster, but stopped. Her gaze wandered around the room until they fell on the weaponry closet where Leia had last stored her bin of weapons. She went, dug out the Imperial rifle and settled it in her arms, positioned it how she remembered Han showing her. She stopped when she came to her shooting line and recalled all of Han's tips, the pointers he'd given her as she had begun running out of patience. She reminded herself of every time Han had told her she was doing something wrong, made her corrections, and stood still. She brought the rifle's barrel up and stared down the next target in line, leveling the barrel with her gaze and bringing her finger to rest on the cold, black trigger. Leia let out a slow, steady breath and fired off the Imperial weapon.

Time seemed to stretch into years as she watched the laser-fire blast from the weapon, but really it was only a mere nanosecond before the first ring around the target's center was smoking, sporting a black burn mark.

"Who taught you?!" Sabé practically exploded. "How? And where did you even get that?!"

Leia quickly dropped the weapon and turned to face the storm. "Please don't tell Father. He'd kill me if he even knew I had these weapons."

"I don't care where you got them," Sabé assured her, shaking her head. "And I won't tell Bail. All I want is to know where you learned to fire blasters like that."

Nervousness curdled in the pit of Leia's stomach and she sighed before she began to explain. "He comes by at night sometimes. When Mama and Father are sleeping. I asked him to train me . . . because I didn't think Father would ever let me. And I wanted to be able to, to prove myself to him, that I could handle myself if I started actually fighting with the Rebellion."

"He? Who is 'he'?"

"His name is Han. He's not from here, but he's been visiting a while. We kept running into each other and . . . " Leia trailed off. She wasn't quite sure how to explain the rest or where to go from where she was at. A smile crept its way to Sabé's lips and the Nabooan waited patiently. When Leia failed to continue, the woman said, "And what? Who is he? Leia?! Are you seeing someone?"

"What?! Sabé, no!"

"So? Who is this man?"

"Noone. Just . . ." Leia trailed off, pursing her lips.

"Just. Who?"

"I guess that's kind of the thing. I don't really know. Anyway, he was just around and . . . while this whole thing with my suitors has been going on, he's listened to me. He probably just pretends to listen, but at least he's there. He's working to pay off a debt and I helped him find a job. In his downtime, he's been training me in handling blasters. That's how I learned."

Sabé could only eye the Imperial blaster for a long moment before she found the words to ask. "How long has this man been training you? I'd say you'd have to have been keeping this secret a while considering how well you just handled that E-11."

"He's been here a while. A couple months."

"A couple months? You've learned to fire an Imperial E-11 blaster in a couple months?"

"It's not that hard. Okay, it's the hardest one yet, but we just started yesterday."

Sabé froze, not even her dark eyes moving. Then, slowly, she rose from her seat, shaking her head, and left the gym. "I'm done," she called out to Leia. "I retire! I have nothing to teach you! My work here is done." Leia followed her, but jumped when her instructor abruptly stopped and met her, nose to nose. "Because she has found a man to teach her."

"Ha! Sabé, I could hardly view him in that light! He's Corellian, a fugitive really. As I told you, he owes a crime lord some money. That's the only reason he's here on Alderaan."

"They always come for the money, Princess. But no one stays a few months to gain riches. Royalty can do that for you."

Quite frankly uncomfortable, and more so by the second, Leia didn't like where Sabé's mislead assumptions were taking this conversation. No better than it being Gram could Leia imagine being that close to Han. She shook the thought away, continuing on and trying to lead Sabé out of her own delusions. "So, do you think I'm doing well in my marksman training? I am still hoping I might be able to use it to change Father's mind about-"

"You aren't going to be able to change Bail Organa's mind, dear. But you'll have proven yourself. And maybe that'll change things down the road. Who knows? Maybe, one day, you'll go out exploring past Alderaan, past Delaya, past Coruscant . . . and allll the way to Corellia." Sabé ended her speech at that with a wicked little smile and left Leia quickly, internally laughing at the girl's rosy cheeks.

Chewbacca was a good friend. Of course, he was. He was a wookiee! But where was the fun in being all serious about the scenario. Sure, he'd take a moment to listen and he'd even give his best friend some advice, but Han didn't need all serious, life-advice, eternal wisdom, mumbo-jumbo right now. No. What Han Solo really needed was some snarky comment about human love coming from a wookiee. Yeah, that sounded about right.

[So, you're really serious? You aren't just pulling my leg? You like the princess?] Honestly, he had to laugh at his friend. The happenings were just too hilarious and outrageous for him to talk to Han with a straight face and a monotone growl of response. Han was playing in deep, hot water and Chewie was, to say the least, very amused.

Sitting in the pilot's seat, twiddling his thumbs and staring out the cockpit was Han, the most cocky, arrogant, rude person the wookiee knew. And he was staring at a princess! "I don't know, Chewie," he said softly, his hazel eyes moving to study the controls' board. "I think she's just . . . different. And I like different. She still hasn't called anyone on me. At least, that I know of. She's not quite how I imagined she would be. That's all."

[She can keep up with you, huh? Interesting. So, this princess is a tough one?] Chewie had to admit, if even to just himself, that he'd been playing a hopeless game of match-maker for Han in hopes that he could get his friend back to the way he had been before Bria had broken him. No, Han had never been one so in love that Bria had broken his heart and left him spasming on the dry floor like a dead fish, but Han had never even considered love before the Corellain belle and it had changed Han in a way Chewie could appreciate. Stay assured, Han was no less cocky, no less dashing or rogue, but it was as though a layer had begun to peel back from him, preparing to reveal something special, something different . . . until Bria left and the layer instantly folded itself back up, bringing back good old, cynical Han. And though Chewie could deal with "good old, cynical Han", he would much rather not while knowing there was a better version of his friend lying around somewhere. And if this princess really was the key to bringing his better friend back . . . well, then she must be something!

As impressive as this was, Chewie was sure she didn't know she didn't know she held this special power, much less understand its importance. Also, the wookiee had no idea why she hadn't killed Han yet, but he did know that something more needed to happen here. And that something more was sure to have an . . . interesting outcome.

[Is that it? Just that she's different-]

"She cares," Han said in a tone as though he himself was still marveling it rather than telling Chewie. "If she didn't, then how come I'm not dead yet? Or in prison? Or suffering her father's wrath? How come I'm not suffering in some kind of unbearable way and, instead, I'm training her how to fire blasters behind her parents' backs?"

[Haven't you ever seen the holodramas where the murderer treats her victims to luxury before killing them? Don't let her get inside you head, Cub,] Chewie joked. [She sounds lethal.]

"She cares," Han went on, muttering in amazement. "Why does she care? Huh! Then, again, why do I care?"

[Well, Cub? Why do you care?]

"I suppose Her Worshipfulness might not be as bad as I thought. Or being stuck around with her."

Now, this Chewie was hopeful enough to call progress.

As it always seemed to be since the whole suitor ordeal had started, Leia's mind was busy battling several different emotions and thoughts at once. Confusion and excitement held her attention, making her question Solo a second beyond normal. What was it exactly that kept Han on Alderaan? What was it that tied his tongue from flat out asking Leia for the money he so badly needed? He was an honest man, she realized. But also arrogant and cocky and obnoxious and Leia held no doubt it would take too much of her patience to get him to leave. Maybe, she would be lucky enough and find enough patience to deal with him one last time while she saw him off now that accessibility to her weapon cache was allowed. Now, if only she could get him to leave . . .

"I love her," Raal repeated, staring at himself in the mirror. "But how much? I love her. I love her enough to know where to draw the line. I hope she loves me that much, too."

Coded transmission sent directly to Princess Leia's private commlink

'Hey, Princess. It's me, Solo. Um, I just wanted to thank you again for the job. It's been a big help. And I have to say, I really love it here. On Alderaan, I mean. I'd love to go see more of it. See you tomorrow, sweetheart.'