4. Day 3

Princess Leia awakened slightly disoriented, trying to focus and recall where she was.

She was abruptly conscious of the bunk under her body and to whom it belonged. Piece by piece, she reconstructed what had happened the previous days and why was she sleeping there

Damn, she thought. Han had managed to kiss her again. She would never accept anything to drink from that man again. Alcohol, exhaustion and Han Solo were not a good combination. She had almost felt herself melt under his thorough kiss. Until the metal on her back reminded her of another time and another place where she had been pushed against the durasteel.

But even before she could gather herself to reject him, he had palmed the hatch open and Threepio had emerged from the cabin greeting them cheerfully. That droid was definitely the best chaperon she ever had. He was risking expeditious dismantling by Han if he kept doing this, though.

Nevertheless, she had gone to bed with a glowing sensation inside her chest. Whether it came from Han's kiss or from the liquor, she did not know. But for the first time in weeks, she had slept like a baby.

Her chrono said it was only 0530, but that meant that she had been sleeping almost twelve hours in a row. Evidently, Solo's recipe worked.

The backside of that was that she had missed dinner and her stomach felt rather empty.

"Alright, Organa. Party is over," she whispered, swinging her legs out of bed.

Han was out of sight, thank goodness, probably still sleeping. The Princess greeted Chewie in the cockpit and went to prepare some caf. She almost dropped the pot when someone grabbed her from behind and she received a warm kiss on her neck that sent shivers down her spine. Oh, no, here we go again, she thought. Sighing, she stated, "We'd have to go without the brewer if you keep doing that..." Han gave her his best Who, me? look and she almost laughed. Almost, but not quite. This was going to be difficult. Kind but firm, she reminded herself.

The breakfast was awkward. They sat together on the bench around the holo-chess table, talking about the schedule for the day. But every time Han moved a centimeter closer to her, she unconsciously moved another centimeter away. She was telling him that she wanted him to teach her today all about the weapons systems when she reached the end of the seat and almost fell of it.

Reddening deeper that she already was, Princess Leia stood up and asked "So, what do you say, Captain?"

"Why don't you relax a bit and take it like a long-deserved vacation, Leia?"

"Vacation? This is no pleasure cruise, Han."

"Well, it could be, y'know." He winked at her. "If you just could stop working for a while..."

"And what would I do instead? Braid my hair all day long?"

"You never let your hair down, don't you?" He said almost under his breath. Han Solo stretched and intertwined his fingers behind his head, a mischievous look in his eyes. "But I'd love to cooperate with a few ideas to fill the time, if you like," he offered.

"Sure you will, you nerfherder." The epithet slipped out of her lips without her noticing before it was too late. So much for the kind part.

"I though we'd agreed in droppin' the names, your Highnessness." He had turned suddenly serious.

"We did? I remember you saying you would be nice."

"And I'm not?" His voice dropped two tones.

"No," she said, looking at him sternly. "You're harassing me."

"I'm what?" Han looked genuinely surprised. "Oh, I see, you want me to be respectful and boring, like Luke."

"Leave Luke out of this. And I don't want anything from you." The Princess crossed her arms on her chest.

"You don't? You didn't seem to think that way yesterday, or the day before." He stood to his full height, his hand clutching the edge of the table in frustration.

"You are right," she conceded, taking a deep breath. "I made a mistake. But I don't want a relationship right now, Han." That was it. She had said it.

"Who's talkin' about a relationship, sister?" Han spat back, his face merely two centimeters from her's. "You'll report to me at 1100 for your training, Princess," he uttered in the coldest tone he was capable of, striding out of the compartment.

His angry steps on the deck hammered in resonance with Leia's heart.

Another long day followed.
At 1100, Leia joined Han in the cockpit as requested. After another three hours of checking dials and flinching switches, he declared her apt. "You have the next shift, darlin'," he said upon vacating his chair. She opened her mouth to ask for ten minutes to grab something to eat and go to the fresher, but her pride prevented her from saying anything.

At 1800, food seemed something almost mythological and the discomfort in her bladder was building up, but she stubbornly refused to give up and abandon her station.

Chewbacca rescued her partially at 2100 with a cold nerf sandwich and juice. She thanked the Wookiee and biting eagerly her dinner she wondered where Han would be. Not far enough away for her liking, that was for sure.

At 2200, she declared herself off-duty and started a quick run to the fresher. Chewie growled something to her when she left, but she obviously didn't understand anything.

As she passed through the darkened lounge area, she saw two bottles over the table, one of them evidently empty. Green glass, silver label, expensive kind. She stopped before noticing that Han was at the far end of the table, sunken in the seat, almost only the top of his head visible. He was leaning over the seat, his feet dangling over the edge. She tried to retire without waking him when his eyes flung open.

"You want some?" He asked slurring the syllables, signaling the bottles with his head.

"I thought you didn't like sparkling wine."

"I don't. I was saving them for a special occasion, but it will never happen, will it, Princess?"

The stinging remark died in her lips when she perceived that there was a certain sadness in his words. He wasn't bantering this time. It was one of the rare opportunities when Han Solo spoke what he really thought. But it was pointless to reason with him while under the influence of alcohol. Swallowing her confusion and her irritation, she continued to the fresher with all the dignity she could gather.

Han watched her go away, doing that little swing with her hips that she always did when she was angry. Maybe that was why he managed to make her mad at him so often, which in turn was driving him crazy.