"It's done."

"Not really."

"Well, you don't have to deal with me anymore."

Leia laughed at Raal's comment and sat back against the bedroom wall. "True. I hated dealing with you." She reached into the bowl between them and found a few more red candies. This was a long tradition of theirs, rooting back to their toddler days. One bag of Loper's Gum-Hard Candies, Raal got the blue ones and Leia got the red.

"And now you can have someone to talk to."

So quick into their conversation, the comment irked Leia, but she still smiled in agreement. "Yeah. Now I have my friend to talk to again."

"And you can tell me all about how horrible Gram and Isolder are and how badly you wanted to pull your hair out." He grabbed another handful of candies and held them up in the air, proposing a toast. "To staying friends?"

"To friends," Leia agreed, a sort of peace finally beginning to calm her soul. "And to true friends who listen."

[Alright, Cub,] Chewie hurried back to the cockpit, handing Han the supplies he'd gathered. [Just stay there, buddy. I got you covered. Look, I brought some hot soup and cookies from the downtown cafe, some reading material, some tissues, and Bria's goodbye note so you can remember it can always be worse. Anything I'm missing?]

"No, that's fine, Chewie. Thanks. I think I'm just going to go work on the repairs in the . . . uh . . . the, um, the turrets. Yeah, I'll go fix the . . . yeah." He rose from the pilot's seat to set off, but Chewie stopped him with a long, hairy arm. [I'll let you go,] he assured Han. [But let me first remind you that 99.9% of the time when you go off to work on repairs . . . it's because you're upset. Now go ahead. And why don't you fix the missile launcher while you're at it.]

"But we already fixed the missile launcher."

[And we already fixed the turrets. Explain it to me.]

Han left, shaking his head. He headed for the circuitry bay instead. Surely, there was plenty down there to fix. There always was. There was when Bria left. Han hated that Chewie had dared compare this to when Bria had left because, to him, this was completely different. He'd only known Leia for so long, but what was he to do when his heart weighed so heavily in his chest? For all the hope he'd ever kept stored there, it ached to see it so clearly squashed before him. Even if he'd never had a chance with her.

Solo, he thought to himself. You're Solo, living up the solo lifestyle. I thought you liked things that way, just you and Chewie, running from one bounty hunter after another, smuggling carts of spice, paying off debts. The epitome of solo. Without Bria, without the princess. Without anyone. What difference should this make now? Quit acting so stupid, thinking so naively. This is the same as when Bria left. Only, you had a chance with that Corellian woman.

He shook his head again, taking a hydrospanner and loosening a latch to look in. A thick, goop of substance lined the inside of the pipe, spanning to the very back. Probably even further, Han surmised. He snatched a cloth from the work bench he often left in the bay and began trying to clean it out. He figured that eventually, if he worked on the Falcon long enough and found enough problems, his mind would be occupied and busy, not able to address the issues of his own D.O.A. love life. And so he put himself to work, fixing this and that until the circuitry bay shined like new durasteel and buzzed as happily a tune Han had ever heard his baby sing.

Once he was finished and the Falcon was restored to her regular beauty, Han found himself digging through the rations cabinet, scavenging for whatever meals him and Chewie had stocked up. Their stock usually wasn't too bad. Some ration bars, frozen greens and frozen wampa steaks. Even if the steaks were the small kind, half the regular size, the tasted good enough to keep down. However, to Han's growing disappointment, today's choices were scarce and limited. The meats looked like they'd been picked from, bearing bite marks and saliva drippings as proof of having been founded first by invaders. Sure enough, crawling up the side of the freezing unit was an army of long, black, hissing bugs, their exoskeletons waving up and down as they went. "Hutt slime!" Han swore the child's curse, slamming the door shut. "Chewie! The freezer unit's infested with little crawlers. What are we gonna eat?"

Alarmed and frustrated with his own repair tasks at hand, the wookiee clambered in, waving his arms about and protesting Han's claim. "No, it's true, Chewie! I'm telling you; there's a whole line of them marching around the door. Take a look. And they got to the food! Just great! Guess I'll just go out and get something for us."

[Alright,] Chewie agreed, investigating the situation. [Meanwhile, I'll clean this up.]

"So," Sabé snickered, wrapping the long, white tape around Leia's hand now. "How's Han?"

Refusing to rise to the bait, Leia kept her watch on her hand, studying how Sabé did her work. "I don't know," she answered. "I haven't seen him yet. Surprised me. He usually checks in with me early in the morning after I use the sanisteam. Then again at night. He didn't come this morning and I haven't seen him around."

"Huh. You miss him?"

"Sabé, you can tease as long as you want, I have no feelings for him. He's cocky, arrogant, self-assured, rogue, rude, annoying, obnoxious really-"

"Wow. You sure know him well."

Leia gently took her hand away, started at the other woman until she looked back. "It's not funny. He's not cute, not funny, not charming in the least. He's creepy, a stalker, a low-life with nothing better to do than follow me around, wishing he'd made better life choices."

"Don't you think that's a little harsh?"

"Harsh? It's the truth?"

"Maybe it is, but for a young woman who normally acts like she's wise beyond her years, you sure are judging him without a second thought. Leia, consider this. What if he didn't have a choice, doing the things that brought him here?"

"That doesn't make sense. Everyone has a choice."

"Does everyone now? Leia, was it your choice to become Alderaanian royalty?" Sabé asked with a pointed gaze, one eyebrow raised at Leia. "Was it even your choice to wear that gown today?"

Sabé gestured to the dress hanging over the changing room's door and Leia's gaze followed. She began to understand what the older woman was getting at and she could see how she could be wrong.

"Answer me, Leia. Now."

"No, I didn't pick to wear that outfit today."

"Did you have any say in the matter?"

"No. Aunt Rouge chose for me."

"Interesting. Now, how about Han?"

"I know other things about him."

"Oh, really? Is this what you think?"

"Yes," Leia nodded, guilt building up in her throat, especially as her mind recalled things she knew about Han Solo. She knew plenty about him, about who he really was. Sometimes, Leia could listen, too. "I do know things about him. His eyes are hazel and he listens. You know how I know those things? When I talk, he listens. You know how I know he's listening? When he listens to me talking, he looks at me with those hazel eyes. The whole time."

"So. You do know him. . . . I've always been one for a gold old forbidden romance story. The suspense, the adventure, the struggle." Sabé smirked, eyeing Leia carefully. "The secrets they hide. See, When I was younger, I had a friend like you, Leia. So in love, but so naive and confused, she had no idea what she was doing. So, I helped her out. Love enjoys giving young ones a hard time, but in the end she always means well. It's your job to listen to her and decide where to go next."

"I'm not in love with him," Leia insisted, spinning in circles as she tried to maintain Sabé's gaze, but the woman herself was doing laps around the younger princess. "I'm sure you aren't," she agreed, shrugging. "But may there be a chance you feel something for him back?"

On the corner of Liberty Road in Downtown Aldera, a small, lovely, cottage-looking bakery sat sandwiched between the city's busiest, biggest shopping center. Yet, it attracted plenty of attention, more than that of the shopping mall even. Sporting old and traditional as its style, the bakery had always been Princess Leia's favorite of all the restaurants and bakeries on Alderaan. In fact, it was a favorite place among most Alderaanian citizens.

Serving everything from cream-filled cakes to muffins glazed in glory, the greatest of Alderaan's exceptional bakers worked the place, often required to have restaurant experience before the care of the bakery was placed in their hands. Memily had worked there before serving the Organa family, Leia had once been told. She knew all their secret recipes and would often make them for the Organa family, never letting the recipes slip off her tongue. Though, many of them had been first created by her in her own kitchen.

The bakery was called The Heart of Aldera as it much was and it so happened that it became the scene of an important chance meeting between a certain scoundrel and a certain princess. And so the scene is set. With its casual soft music of old jazz tunes and classic instrumentals playing in the background, Leia found herself humming a familiar tune as she strode in, eyeing all the delicious delicacies that sat in the counter. She quickly turned away from the awful temptations and seated herself at a small table for two in the back, watching the usual throng of customers come in and out throughout the lunch rush. She was to be meeting a friend here and, if only to be respectful, she kept patient and waited to eat with him. To busy herself, distract her eyes and nose from the treats constantly being handed out across the counter, she pulled out her datapad and to work on another report. This one dealing with a more pressing issue than harmless friends of Vader's: plans for the Empire's Death Star.

She worked away, entirely distracted until she took a random glance over her device, checking for Raal to instead see another familiar face standing before the counter.

"Have you ever been here before, my lad?" the bakery's owner Capolli ask this approaching customer.

"No. I haven't been on the planet more than a several months, but a friend suggested I try this place."

"Well, your friend most certainly pointed you the right way. Go ahead and take a look. We've got something for everyone. What's your flavor? Sweet? Tart? Maybe you like things on the plainer side. That's fine. We've got it all."

"Get him one of your dessert breads," Leia suggested, rising from her seat and drawing the fellow patron's attention. Han Solo turned to see Leia there and smiled politely, quickly turning back to the glass counter. "They're in season, so it's less money at this time. But they're delicious. Especially with a simple spread."

Leia caught the quiet sigh Han uttered, but he still turned to face her. "What are you doing here?" he asked. Leia steppe closer to the counter, peeking at the goodies inside. "I might ask the same about you," she replied, pointing to a slice of bread under the counter and laying the credits down. "I'm supposed to be meeting a friend here, but he's currently stuck in meetings and I can't wait any longer to eat. Now, what about you?"

For a long moment, Han didn't say anything, just looked away from her, seemingly ignoring her gaze. He gave a small shrug and it was enough to annoy Leia as she reached out an arm and jerk him around by the shoulder. "What is it, Han? What's wrong that you sudden;y don't feel like annoying me? Is everything okay? Are you feverish?"

"Ha, ha. Very funny, Princess."

"No, seriously, Han. You're acting strange. Normally, well, you can't seem to shut your mouth."

"Forget it, Leia. It doesn't matter now."

"No. I know something's wrong," Leia continued insisting and she reached to stop him, holding on to his arm. "So you're going to tell me now before I go find your wookiee friend."

"His name's Chewie," Han reminded her, gently shaking the princess off his arm.

"Han. What's wrong?"

Han stopped, finally met her stare, but couldn't hold it for very long before he looked away. "I saw you and that other Alderaanian prince made up last night. Just as I was leaving, I saw you two together in your bedroom. Congratulations."

"You saw that?"

"Yeah."

"Han, what do you think happened?"

"What does it matter? I saw you hugging him, holding the ring-"

"You thought we got engaged," Leia suddenly realized as Han quickly turned away, hurrying from the counter and rushing out the door. Leia took her treat and followed him out the door, practically running to keep up with the smuggler as he fled. She stopped him on the corner of the street and held his wavering gaze, kept him standing right where he was. "You were jealous. You were jealous because you thought we became engaged. You know, Han," Leia's cheeks sort of flushed, turning rosy pink with color. No, she wasn't embarrassed. More like . . . pleasantly surprised? There had to be a better way to describe exactly how Leia was left feeling! "I thought you might have liked me before. I figured you have for a while now, but I didn't think you were . . . that . . ."

"What? Serious?"

" . . . Yeah."

And there the two stood, staring at eachother. The world passed by around them, but between the two, the world seemed to have gone still. As though there was no space time continuum, Han and Leia seemed to have all the time in the world for that long moment, staring at eachother, trying to comprehend what exactly was going on. The air suddenly cleared, but at the same time was fogged up with a sudden rush of feelings, confusion clearing and reappearing, things that hadn't come up before. "You really are serious," Leia repeated, breaking the silence at last. "You're . . . you're really serious."

"I'm sorry," Han shook his head, his posture relaxing and he drew a hand down his face. "I didn't mean to make this awkward. I was just being dumb, not thinking straight. I'll leave you alone."

"No, Han! Wait. Raal and I are just friends," Leia came quick to reassure him before he could run away. She drew her arm back as she realized she'd shot it out to stop him. Calming herself, she tucked her bangs past her ears and finished her explanation. "He withdrew his proposal the other night. Nothing's going on between us. . . . You're fine, Han."

"What does that mean? 'You're fine'?"

"It means . . . you don't have to worry about being awkward. I'll see you tonight, right?"

Rouge held up another gown in front of her body and watched herself pose before the mirror. Her hair twirled up in a tall cone and her eyes and lips decorated in sparkles only the Hapans could relate to, the Organa woman was preparing herself for a fine event at which she hoped to finally marry off her niece. Her sisters Tia and Celly stood before their own vanities, going through all their different dresses and sorting out their own makeup. However, of the three, Tia was the only one who wasn't trying anything on. No, she had more of a clear head than the other two. She had more sense and understanding for Leia than the two other dowagers who claimed to annoy their niece out of love. In truth, the dinner they were preparing for was in a month, but Rouge and Celly had little patience to wait that long. If it were their choice, there would be little time for preparation.

Sighing heavily in annoyance, Tia dropped the dress she had been playing with and left the room in search of her brother. The door to the meeting room opened, she caught sight of the viceroy saying his goodbyes to a leaving party he'd just been held up in a meeting with. Among them were Senators Zhar and Mothma, Commander Wedge Antilles, and another pilot Tia had heard of. Biggs Darklighter his name was.

Tia glided to her brother's side and smiled pleasantly in greeting to the leaving party, offering a simple nod as they filed out. Darklighter was in conversation with Bail and Antilles and, with a wide smile, he was saying to Bail and Breha, "You know that I'd love to scout out some more pilots for the Alliance."

"Well," Wedge nodded in agreement. "It would be nice to have another squadron. If we could get that many more."

"There's this one kid I know really well. Wedge, I think I told you about him. We grew up on Tatooine together so he's a good friend of mine, but I'm telling you the kid can fly. Luke Skywalker's his name. Just give me a call if you decide Wedge and I can start scouting for newbies."

"Of course," Bail agreed, but Tia couldn't help but notice the way his and Breha's faces had become very panicked looking. They quickly tried to wipe off the surprise from their faces and so Tia pretended she hadn't seen anything. The guests left and, to make polite small talk, she asked her brother, "I trust your meetings with the Alliance members are going well?"

"Very well, indeed," Bail nodded, regaining his composure and taking his wife's arm. "Everything seems to be coming along well. I just hope that Leia isn't still too upset about our deci-"

"I'm sure she's fine, brother. She seems to really like where she is now. She's doing something and it can make a difference-"

"However minimal."

"But it has her working and that's what she asked for. Worry no longer! She's fine. It's her suitors she should be worrying about at this time."

"The Hapans aren't leaving until she chooses," Breha said, looking less than pleased. "And all the suitors are quickly losing their patience over this. You think it wrong if we try giving Leia a little push?"

"Nonsense! She'll be fine! Just let her be. She's having a tough enough time as it is."

"I suppose, but it'll get even harder if she doesn't choose by her next birthday."

"Sooo . . ."

Leia smirked, picking at the hem of her long, jade green dress. "Soooo . . ." she copied Han.

"So, is it always going to be this awkward?"

"I hope not. I just don't know what to say."

"Same." Han awkwardly nodded, making a funny look and it sent Leia doubling over with laughter, squeezing a pillow between her arms before she tossed it at him. "What?" he laughed from just watching her.

"This is soo awkward."

"It is. It really is."

"I don't know what to say next."

"Neither do I."

"We should probably stop talking about how awkward this conversation is."

"But what would we talk about then?"

"I don't know."

"Soooo . . ."

"Oh! I know. How are the repairs with the Falcon going?"

"Not too bad. We're just about done. I think the hyperdrive needs a little tinkering. Other than that . . ."

"Great. Now it's awkward again."

Han thought another moment before directing his gaze back to Leia and asking, "How are you doing with your remaining proposals and dowries?"

That cut the awkwardness, but for a long moment the silence remained put. "In a month is my birthday. My father's throwing this ball for me and I always enjoy them . . . except that I'll be expected to have decided on a suitor by then. And I'll be expected to announce it before my guests."

"A month."

"A month."

"A month left to enjoy what little joy remains?"

"Pretty much. A month left of this before . . . I lose all my friends."

"What about Raal? He's your friend now."

"Except that it'll be awkward when I'm married and holding the throne and . . . we were expected to hold it together. And he'll be ruling Alderaan under me. And alliances will be lost once I've chosen. It hardly matters what I try to maintain as sense of respect for all the houses and families offering me dowries and alliances. Once I choose one of them, Alderaan loses all the rest."

"I'm sorry. That must be really difficult. I can't imagine being forced into a situation like that. Wouldn't you think your parents would understand then? I mean, if they had to do it, too?"

"Probably. Except that they were lucky and they actually loved eachother even then. Like this other prince in this generation's market. Bornan. He's a friend of mine, too. Okay, I kind of forgot about him earlier. Anyway, he's always been really close to this one girl for a really long time. Aryn of the House of Dro. Fated lovers, everyone called them. And it was no surprise when they proposed marriage as soon as the market opened up."

"The way you use the word 'market'-"

"Like people are buying things," Leia nodded, flashing a look at her dresser. "Because isn't that what it is? The princes trade valuables such as money, ships, and weapons to the princesses so they'll marry them. Isn't that how buying works? You offer something in exchange for a product? That's what I am to Gram, Isolder, and all the rest." She flung out an arm, rising from the bed and crossing the room to the dresser. She picked up a bottle of costly Hapan perfume, unplugged the seal, sniffed, and made a face before putting it back. "I'm a thing they think they can pay to have. I don't want to be a thing. I can't be bought. . . ." She stopped before the bed and her eyes found Han quickly, taking in his appearance and apparel. "Not by riches, at least."