5. DAY 10

For a while, beside her shifts in the cockpit, she mainly slept, making up for all the hours of sleep she had gone without in the last few years.

The technique Luke had tried to teach her almost three years ago had helped her to rest. It was one of the few things General Kenobi had had time to teach him. A breathing technique aimed at relaxing the body and the mind. She really didn't know why she had remembered it right now, but after a couple of trials, it worked. Practicing this exercise every night for a few minutes allowed her to sleep peacefully as many hours as she needed. If she had listened to Luke the first time, she would have saved a lot of electro-induction and maybe some nightmares.

Thinking of Luke, she remembered the last time she had seen him. In the rush of the upcoming battle, she had barely squeezed his arm and murmured good luck in her way to address the pilots escorting the transports. They both had averted each other's eyes then. She had never apologized to him for using him so shamefully to pay back Han. That was another impending conversation that she hoped it would go better than the one with Han.

Han.

Han, Han, Han.

He was still not talking to her, except for practical issues, like 'kindly' suggesting that she started to learn some Shyriiwook, tutored by Chewie. Threepio and Han could translate if necessary, but she could not help but agree that in case of need it was faster if she could understand him directly, at least on a basic level. It gave her also something to fill her time with - exactly what Han had promised, she had to acknowledge - and an opportunity to get to know the Wookiee better.

The Corellian captain had assigned her to the afternoon shift, taking himself the morning one and Chewie the nights. With careful timing, they managed to barely see each other for several days. Half of her was absolutly convinced that he was the one who had to apologize while her other half wanted already to apologize to him. She hadn't treated him fairly and she knew it. But things where simpler this way, and so the days passed.

The first few days of this voyage had been busy working on the repairable damage. After that, she had to squeeze her imagination to keep the boredom at bay. She was not used to idleness, but there was not much to do on the small freighter besides tinkering with it.

Han had given her access to the Falcon's databanks, so she could use the Shyriiwook learning program. There were seven different databanks on the Falcon, none of them of the same origin. And they were all full almost to the top with files and programs of the widest spectrum imaginable. No wonder the ship was almost schizophrenic.

One advantage of having access to the databanks was that, among dozens and dozens of recorded smashball games, she found some holo-vids of a more interesting kind. Some were pretty old, but she had not had much time lately to catch on with the latest in entertainment, or had she? She soon established a routine where she would watch a vid late in the morning after a session with the learning program.

Her cool indifference was driving him crazy. He was positive about that.

How could she just stare at him and make him feel so guilty and at the same time, on the verge of strangling her? Or kissing her. Or... Damn! Her being so close and so far simultaneously was proving to be such a torture.

Chewie had lectured him extensively about his mistreating of the Princess. "She wouldn't accept my apologies, old fuzzball!" He had whispered, trying not to be heard by Leia. I'm not talking to you until you do so, the Wookiee simply answered.

It was a long and lonely week for Han indeed.

The exchanges between him and Leia were reduced to a bare minimum, that is, when she felt the need to insult him.

Last night, for example. Leia had come from the cockpit when Chewie relived her. Without acknowledging him, she had approached the kitchenette and investigated the stew he had cooked a little earlier. Grabbing a spoon, she had started to fill a bowl with it. Han could not help watching her, finding the curve of her neck - and every other curve - simply fascinating.

"What?" She had angrily asked, turning around and catching him in the act.

"Can't I even watch?" he had responded, defensively.

"I'm not an exhibition at a museum, Captain." Taking a flask of water from the cooler, she had carried her dinner to her cabin. That was not unexpected, since she had not shared any meals with him since their fight.

Tonight, things had been different. She had gone straight to her cabin, without saying a word. Without taking anything to eat with her. It was true that they had to be careful with the provisions, but that was a bit over the top. And his cooking was not bad at all. And now that he thought of it, she probably didn't eat anything at lunch either, he had noticed that the cooler had not been disturbed. She would get too thin again. What if she was sick? "Stop it, Solo," he scolded himself. "What d'ya care if she eats or not? She doesn't want anything from you..."

Who would say three years ago that he'd be concerned about some Princess's eating?

Roaming the databanks for a smashball game whose score he did not remember, Han Solo noticed the last file accessed . A Holo-vid, and a pretty old too. The title sounded familiar... and then he suddenly recognized it. Blast! He should have erased or encoded that! Did she see it? Yeah, he was sure Chewie was still asleep at that time... Maybe she had not see it all, maybe she hadn't watch it up to the part where...

Well, that could explain the lack of appetite. Picking a random game and not watching it, he promised himself that he would try to talk to her tomorrow.

It was three minutes to midnight when a scream pierced through the quiet ship.