A Careful Application of Pressure

Chapter Three: Unwelcome Salvation

"Hello, Senator."

Leia walked into the dimly lit office with a story fixed clearly in her mind. "Hello, doctor."

"Call me Adele," the therapist said. Her tone was anything by casual. "Please, have a seat."

"I hat to waste your time," Leia said brightly. "I'm only here because a friend asked me to."

"Really?" Adele jotted something down on her data pad. "Senator Organa, your files indicate that you were the victim of a violent crime just two months ago."

"Yes, but I'm fully recovered."

"Then you wouldn't mind recounting it for me?"

This was not what Leia had anticipated, but she refused to let it show. "I'm sure I could get you a copy of the police report."

"But I'd like to hear your side of the story."

"Well, I…What does this have to do with anything?"

Adele smiled sympathetically. "It explains why you do need to be here."

An hour later, Leia walked from the office with all the relief of a woman released from prison. The therapist was good. Her questions were so probing and cunningly asked that most people would be reduced to a sobbing mass. Leia, however, was a woman who at nineteen, had faced and denied Darth Vader. A two-piece suit with a certificate on the wall was not going to break her.

She was fine. The nightmares were nearly gone, and the sight of scales no longer made her shiver. Not wanting to discuss her ordeal with a total stranger didn't make her an emotional wreck. But in the therapist's eyes, it did. Adele had insisted on daily check-ins. Leia, a champion of diplomatic compromise, reduced it to every other day with shorter sessions on the weekend.

Leia pressed her palm to the keypad. With a cheerful ring, the apartment door slid open. She waded through the mess of unpacked boxes to the kitchen. In the few weeks since she'd moved in, she hadn't had time to really get settled. It was perfect for her. Large, but not so big that it felt empty when she was alone. It lay close enough to the Senate to ease Luke's over-protective paranoia, and far enough away to offer some relief from her responsibilities.

There was a message from Han on her answering machine. She sat down at the table with a cold drink and pressed play.

"Hey there, Princess. Just wanted to let you know I'm still alive. There hasn't been any male bonding yet, so don't get your hopes up. Master Skywalker's been locked in his room doing who-knows-what all day. Anyways, we should be reaching halfway sometime tomorrow. We'll probably stop and refuel on Mayjin if you're looking for us.

"And by the way Dr. Tourtiban's got my number. I will find out if you made that appointment, Leia. So don't think you're getting away with anything.

"Better get back to reconciling. Love ya, sweetheart. Bye."

They still have time, Leia reminded herself. Their relationship had been through some tough times, and she couldn't reasonably expect it to heal in a day. It had to happen sometime, though, if Han was going to move back in with her. She had no intention of tiptoeing around her angry brother forever.

She yawned. It had been a long day. Finishing her drink, she headed for the bedroom. Her bed waited, soft and welcoming. She'd almost gotten used to sleeping alone by now.

Soon, she thought, wrapping her arms around a pillow. Soon it'll all be better again.