I'm late again. I had hoped to have more time with this chapter and do some more tweaking, but I am going away for the summer and ran out of time. Pardon my late replies to everyone who was kind enough to comment.

Chapter 10

When Han Solo saw Leia Skywalker for the first time again, she was riding a second-hand Zephyr-G swoop across a shipyard on the mining planet of Drogheda. Her hair hung in jagged points and she wore a fawn-coloured bodysuit over which was a loosely belted linen tunic. On her right thigh, she wore a blaster in a small tie-down holster. Dust and dirt streaked her forehead and cheeks, but like a masked animal, the areas around her eyes and across her nose were clean. Her mouth curved in a pleased line as she neared the ship, as though she was happy to be back.

From his vantage point in the Rrakktorr's cockpit, Han saw she and her companion nose the swoops toward the rear of the ship. The swoops length and inability to turn into the corridors dictated that they load them on and off the Lily by way of the freight elevator that lifted directly into the largest cargo hold, instead of the main boarding ramp. And the freight elevator could only be opened from inside the ship.

It was perfect.

Han had a few seconds to wonder which of them would come on board first. The hatch opened, and one stun blast at point-blank range later, her companion lay slumped in the main corridor. Han quickly dragged his body into the galley then headed for the cargo hold. He activated the freight elevator and plastered himself against the exterior wall so that she wouldn't glance up and see him.

Leia shouted after a moment, "I thought you were going to give me a hand!" Then she grumbled something under her breath, and activated the lift from below.

As she rose into the cargo hold, Han aimed his blaster at her to make sure there were no misunderstandings. Then he said in an overly civilized tone, "Hello. Leia. Lusa. Nyeve. Whatever it is you're going by these days."

"Leia." She climbed off the swoop with the grim expression of one facing an Imperial firing squad. "You're onboard my ship."

"Oh, that arrangement was temporary. You didn't override all my security systems, Sweetheart, just most of them."

The expression on her face revealed that she knew exactly to which security system he referred.

"Oh, and while you were out today, I installed a few extra specialties." He grinned madly. "My favourite is the thermal detonator linked to the sublight engines. Enter the wrong password and 'poof'. Now turn around. Keep your hands where I can see them." He jammed the blaster between her shoulder blades and patted her down. "So, does Bracha know how you obtained your ship? You are aware that smugglers don't take kindly to ship-thieves."

She scowled over her shoulder. "What are you going to do?

"For starters, I haven't decided whether I'm going to kill you or not."

"You won't kill me."

"Don't test me so soon." He angled his blaster toward the main corridor, figuring he could cuff her to the co-pilot's chair in the cockpit. "Move it."

They were about two-thirds of the way to the cockpit when he made a mistake and lowered his arm. Leia had been watching the shadow of his reflection ahead of her on the viewport. She dropped low and flailed her fist backward at his groin, but he saw her swing and managed to pivot sharply and lean over so that the blow caught his pelvic bone by the slenderest of margins. The punch he delivered with his right hand was pure, irrepressible instinct. She hit the corridor wall and stumbled off-balance just beneath the arch of the doorway that divided the cockpit and access corridor. He managed to fall on top of her and pinion her arms to her sides before she could swing at him again.

"Damn it," he swore. "I had a feeling you wouldn't make this easy."

"Why would I?" She was breathing like a trapped animal beneath him. "You're hurting me."

Splotches of half-smeared blood decorated the deckplates. Cautiously, he pushed up and kept his blaster on her while she moved into a sitting position beside the captain's chair. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth and her cheek burned scarlet.

"You hit me in the face," she said accusingly.

"You tried to punch me in the balls."

"Where is my co-pilot?"

"Well I didn't kill him," Han said. "Yet."

"What are you going to do with us?" She jerked up her chin. "Are we prisoners?"

"I'm debating whether or not I should bring you back to Coruscant and have you arrested or leave you here. Of course, you're a very resourceful woman." Han raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you'd find your own way off this planet. I would even bet credits on it."

"We have a run tomorrow," she said pleadingly. "Medical supplies for settlers. Vaccinations and antibiotics against scurrier disease, petal fever, Affliceria, dantari flu."

"That's not my problem." Han shrugged impassively. "Bracha shouldn't have hired you."

"There are children there," she said plaintively. "Please. Go look at the crates piled up in the smuggling compartments."

He'd already found and examined the small fortune of vials, powders and injectors marked Imperial Medicines. "What makes you think I give a damn?"

"Because you offered to help me when I was on Coruscant." Her expression was growing more desperate by the second. "I never wanted to hurt you. I didn't have any other choice. I had to leave when I did. I told you as much of the truth as I could. "

"Yeah, well you're certainly one hell of an actress," Han drawled sardonically. "You just made up a few details, like having money stashed offworld. And fucking me before you drugged me and took off with my ship. That was a very nice touch. In fact, I think it sums up my memories of you rather succinctly. You know, you and your brother are more alike than I thought. And unnaturally close, according to him."

She didn't flinch, but had the grace to appear chastised, almost. But apparently, Han hadn't searched her all that thoroughly, because Leia had found something he'd missed. She scrambled away from him holding a tiny vibroblade out, but as he brought the blaster up, she changed tactics and drew the blade against her own throat.

"Hey," he muttered. "Let's not do anything crazy here."

"Crazy?" she hissed. "What would you have me do? You've commandeered my ship and have me at blaster-point. I won't go back to Coruscant."

"I'm not here to take you back."

"But he probably knows you're here."

He held the blaster on her. He was sure she was only bluffing. "No one knows I'm here."

"You could have been followed." She sounded panicked, hysterical even, and looked frantic, her bleeding lips drawn back from her teeth. She held the vibroblade close enough that he could see her jugular beating beneath the blade. It would cut like butter.

"I wasn't." Han wondered if this wasn't a trick, if she was terrified that Luke Skywalker was cloistered in another part of the ship. "I'm not working for him. Put that down."

"No."

"I'm putting mine down. See." Han crouched and set the blaster across his knees in an effort to look less threatening. She was like a trapped animal, pretending to be tame and docile but he knew if he went near her, she would attack. "I know he's cruel. He carved up a man that worked for me."

Her face paled and her mouth became a taut line. She was breathing hard through her nose and a sliver of blood had formed beneath the triangle of vibrating metal. "How can you be sure?"

"Because I'm good."

"But you can't be sure."

"You're going to have to take my word for it." Han hadn't planned on a suicidal standoff in the cockpit and he was all too aware that Jasod would probably wake up soon. "You know what," he bluffed, "If you want to kill yourself because you think I came to take you back, go ahead and do it right now. Because I'm not turning you over to him or any authorities. As far as I'm concerned, possession of this ship is between you and me, and now that I have her back, you're free to go. Walk off the ship."

Leia calmed long enough to consider that. Then she asked, "Then why were you waiting here?"

"Huh?"

"If you're not going to kill me or bring me back to Coruscant and all you wanted was your ship, why didn't you take off a few hours ago?"

"Well I wanted to say my piece."

"And that was it."

Han couldn't remember if he'd thought about killing her or not. It might have been the plan the day Talon gave him the information. "That was it."

Leia set the vibroblade beside her booted foot. Her arm trembled as though she were a hundred years old. She leaned her head forward and put it between her knees. "Can I ask you for a favour?"

You have some nerve, he wanted to say but he couldn't. "Maybe."

"Fly my co-pilot and me to a more populated world. One with interstellar banking so that I have access to my accounts and one for the Ridge."

Han didn't say anything.

"She's yours Han." Those three words pained her. "You win."

"You're just saying that because I have the sublight drive booby-trapped."

Leia shifted her gaze nervously to the blinking orb attached to the main console. "From where I'm sitting it's quite clever and effective."

Han leaned over and picked the vibroblade up off the deck. It was slick with sweat. "Where'd you have in mind?"

"Tyne's Horky."

"It's controlled by the Hutts," Han said.

"I know."

"It doesn't have much in the way of major financial institutions either," he pointed out. "There are far more urban worlds I could leave you on."

"They have one," Leia countered.

"And?" Han prompted.

"That's where our next delivery was scheduled," she admitted weakly. "Look, the ship may be yours, but the cargo doesn't belong to either of us. If you're taking the ship, you either have to make the delivery yourself or bring the cargo back to Bracha." Her eyelashes fluttered. "If you just take the cargo and leave, they'll assume I stole it."

He didn't say anything because technically, she had a point. Taking back his ship and screwing her over was one thing; screwing over the people waiting for the medical supplies was completely different. Actually, even screwing her over didn't sit well with him – Bracha wouldn't put a death mark on her head necessarily, but there would be enough of a bounty to attract a handful of second-rate bounty hunters and second-rate bounty hunters tended to have a lot of unfortunate accidents.

"Please?" The hint of desperation in her voice was growing. "I won't try anything."

"All right. I'll take you. But we need some ground rules." Han stood up and got a fresh grip on his blaster "Before I spend another ten seconds with you, I want the renatyl."

To her credit, she didn't pretend not to know what he was talking about. "I don't have it."

"Oh, I'm sure you do."

"I swear I don't. I used it all."

"On-" He pursed his lips and spoke in falsetto. "Who?"

"Another…" Leia faltered. "Smuggler."

"Hmm." Han scratched his head dramatically. "I can do the math. It only takes two or three drops to knock out a grown man. Usually, you'd need to buy enough to fill a vial. And since I'm assuming you didn't purchase three drops, I'm sure it's in here." Earlier, Han had searched through her both the head and her cabin thoroughly, but there were too many jars of ointments and lotions and make-up for him to determine what was what, although he'd ruled out anything that smelled floral or expensive. After more thought, he'd decided it was the type of thing a woman, particularly a woman smuggler, would keep on her or with her personal belongings. "Should we grab the packs from the swoops and search those first or play strip-search? Ladies' choice."

Leia shuddered indignantly. "You can't be serious."

"I'm not talking out loud just to hear myself. Oh come on," he said. "Don't look so modest, I've seen everything you've got."

"Fine." She shifted one shoulder. "It's in my bag, in the storage compartment of the swoop."

"Lead the way."

Back in the cargo hold, she withdrew a slender case from the rear compartment of the swoop. Carefully, she selected a durasteel vial with a stopper inserted. "That's it."

"I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess the antidote isn't triple-sealed. Dab some on your skin."

"Then I'll be unconscious."

"That's kind'a the point." He raised an eyebrow. "It'll make it easier for me take care of a few errands. And we'll be even. This is where you find out if you can trust me."

"What about my co-pilot?"

"He's not part of this deal."

"Please. They're expecting both of us."

"Ten seconds," Han threatened. "If you don't, I'm going to stun you and leave you unconscious in the shipyard."

It could be worse, Leia told herself when she awoke. They were in hyperspace and she was still on board the Solus Lily, supine on the bunk in the captain's quarters. Her mouth felt like it had five wads of cotton stuff in it, her bladder hurt, and her dust and sweat-stained clothing were growing out of her pores. An ancient pair of binders chained her to the bunk. Still, Han had kept his end of the bargain.

She shouted hoarsely. Han took his sweet time walking from the cockpit to her quarters. Gone were the fine clothes and air of money. Instead, he wore a faded white shirt and black trousers with gold piping running outside the legs. A low-slung holster dangled from his right thigh, but it was empty; the heavy blaster was permanently fixed between his thumb and fingers. He looked dangerous and angry and like the stories Bracha told her come to life.

"Where is my co-pilot?"

"You mean Jasod?"

If he knew his first name, that was a probably good sign. "Is he all right?"

"Did I beat him senseless and leave him on Drogheda, you mean? No. He's locked in the cargo hold. We're scheduled to reach Tyne's Horky in three hours." Han raised one eyebrow. "He's very talkative. He's brought me up to speed on all of your most recent adventures. For future reference, resisting interrogation is not one of his natural skills."

"I'm sure you instilled the fear of the gods in him." Jasod's first line of defence was his natural likeability and quick wit. She'd never seen him throw so much as a punch and doubted he could withstand so much as having the hair pulled from his calves. She rattled the binders. "Could you undo these?"

"Not-" Han tapped the carbine of his blaster against the hatchway for emphasis. "- until we discuss how you're going to behave."

Leia exhaled with frustration and blew a stray wisp of hair form her eyes. "If by behave you're alluding to housebroken then since this is now your bed I should warn you-"

"-Fine." He undid the binders, grabbed her left arm, hauled her roughly off the bunk and pushed her down the passageway toward the main head. "Go do your thing. Leave the door ajar."

She was so dizzy she could barely stand. She relieved herself, then tried to stand and wound up sinking into a puddle on the fresher floor.

Han ducked his head in. "It's a bitch, isn't it?"

She took a deep breath and tried to pull her thoughts together. "Yes."

"By the way, you smell like you were running sewer garbage."

"Bantha bile," she said. Bantha bile was a hot commodity on the black market. The thick black liquid supposedly enhanced virility and fertility. It also smelled like a rancor in heat. One of the containers leaked when she and Jasod made the transfer on Drogheda. In fact, she had been looking forward to a long hot shower and fresh clothes when they arrived back at the ship.

"Try a shower," he said, ducking back out.

Under the thin stream of water, she found a patch of synthflesh fixed to her neck. She crossed Han Solo is going to kill you off her mental list of worries. That still left losing ship and losing livelihood, both of which were doozies. Han wasn't going to change his mind about his ship, and even if she magically conjured a new one out of thin air, she didn't dare return to the Ridge. Now that Han knew who she worked for, her brother might be able to pry the information out of him. Trying to resign herself to a number of unpleasant facts, she wrapped herself tightly in his old robe and exited the fresher.

He was waiting with his weapon in one hand and a steaming mug in the other.

"I'm not armed," she said. "You can put that thing away."

"That's your opinion." He stretched out the hand with the mug. "Caf?"

Warily, Leia accepted. "I want to see my co-pilot now."

"Right this way."

Jasod lounged idly on a storage crate with his feet propped up on the seat of a swoop. He didn't have a mark on him. Remnants of the galley's fresh food supplies were scattered across the decks, picnic-style. "Hey Captain," he said.

Relief flooded her body. Leia looked at Han. "So um… did Jasod go over the specs with you?"

"He said we've got to set down about five hours from the settlement. You two were supposed take the swoops the rest of the way, meet up at the rendezvous point and deliver the medical supplies."

"Yes." Tensions between the settlers and Hutt government on Tyne's Horky were at an all time high. Recently, a series of embargos had been enacted preventing the settlers from receiving offworld foods and supplies. It was better to avoid attention and set down far from the city, but not so close that they would give away the location. "It should be simple enough."

"Your co-pilot said you haven't made this run here before," Han informed her, as if she was ignorant of her own recent history.

"No." Jasod looked at her, mouth slightly agape, as if on the verge of arguing that Han was treating them like five-year olds who were pretending to be smugglers for a day. Leia shrugged back at him helplessly. "I might have mentioned it if I'd been conscious."

The ice faded from Han's eyes, but just for a moment. He looked like he felt accidentally committed to the delivery and considered that all her fault. "You and I will go. I'll pretend to be Jasod. Jasod, you'll stay with the ship."

"I thought you would fly away once you dropped us off with the swoops."

"That was my original inclination." Han swung a leg over the seat of the second-hand Zephyr-G, testing it out. "You don't pull a fast one on a Hutt. They'll contract scouts to be on the lookout."

Han certainly sounded like he knew a lot about Hutts.

"Oh," Leia said as she took a sip of caf.

The delivery went off without a hitch. Their contact was a man with a long nose, black eyes, and greying temples. His clothes were in desperate need of mending, but he was smiling gregariously as they transferred the medicines from the swoops to his trailer. After he paid them, he invited them to dinner back at the village.

"I'm sorry but we have to-" Leia began.

"Please. We've been awaiting your visit," the settler said excitedly. "We killed a roba."

"A what?" she asked.

"It's like a giant boar," Han said. "Red meat. It's quite tasty."

Leia held up her hands. "I'm not the one in charge of this operation."

"Right." Han pondered the situation for a moment. Then his mouth twitched, and then he snapped his fingers as though he'd reached a decision. "I'm hungry."

The temporary village was situated toward the mountains in the south. An even temperature wind ventured down across the rocky deserts, so warm it didn't cool him, but not warm enough heat him, and it made him feel like he was walking against a thick cushion of air, and he could hold his fingers out and let it envelop him. The wind smelled faintly of burning Cu-Pa bantha dung, which wasn't pleasant, although Han was getting used to it.

"This feels good," she said. "Admit it."

"Huh?"

Leia sounded a little drunk. Come to think of it, so was he. The settlers had welcomed them like heroes, fed them a feast that included roba roasted on a spit, rose-coloured root vegetables and sweet bread. They had also pushed a local moonshine on them that settled in the pit of his stomach like burning embers. The settlers had then convinced him it was too dangerous to ride back during the night. Now they headed to their temporary quarters.

"Doing something worthwhile," she clarified. "Helping."

For the umpteenth time that day, Han wished she exhibited less of a sense of compassion for others. It made it difficult to stay angry with her. According to Jasod, Leia was a terrific captain, fair but firm, ethical, and in general, a saint deserving of his mercy. "Are they always this happy to see you when you make these runs?"

"Once in a while." She inhaled deeply. The odour of the burning dung didn't seem to bother her. Han pictured Bryn turning up her nose left and right, covering her face with one of her silk scarves. "Don't get me wrong. I never expect this much gratitude. I would do it even if they were suspicious and kept their weapons aimed at me."

And he knew she both meant what she said and didn't; the alcohol was making her a delusional sort of idealist in the heat of the moment.

There were two beds in the hastily assembled shelter. The ceiling was a wood a-frame held up by sturdy posts, but the walls were made of Cu-pa skins, and the beds rested on low platforms along the sides. Presumably, the settlers had sought to avoid having to ask if they were together. In a depression between the beds was a small generator, fortunately not dung burning, from which emanated a soft, radiant heat. Someone had foreseen that they might want to wash up, and placed a ceramic pitcher of water and basin on a makeshift table at the head of the shelter. They each automatically selected a bed, she to the left of the skin-draped entrance and he to the right. She set down the red wooden cup, a hand-carved gift that she'd been carrying for the better part of the evening, removed her flight jacket and laid it across the dingy, careworn blankets. Then she moved to the basin and began washing her face and arms.

Han hitched up his pants and sat down on his bed. It didn't have much give to it, and his back cracked loudly, protesting against the lengthy swoop ride.

Conversationally, she said, "I've been wondering how you found me."

"I have a lot of connections," he began, but then he shook his head and studied the mechanics of the tiny generator. A large battery powered the device. "It was a fluke. Someone from a larger operation passed through the Ridge and recognised you after the fact."

"Oh. I guess I'm not as good as I thought."

At that, Han chuckled. "No one ever is."

His laughter inadvertently broke the tension that had existed all day.

"I've heard you were great." She wiped her arms and face on a towel; damp strands of hair plastered themselves to her forehead and cheeks like sticky vines. "I've heard about your Kessel Run record and the way you flew at the Battle of Nar Shaddaa. That was the only battle the Emperor ever lost."

"It's a good thing people on Coruscant have such short memories," he said. It would have been terrible for business if they didn't. "My turn. So how in the galaxy did you manage to wind up at the Ridge?"

"My co-pilot is having an affair with one of Bracha's smugglers."

"That's brilliantly convenient."

"Yes it is."

"He told me he tried to blackmail you."

"On Gelgelar Free Port. The neutrino radiator went before I changed the transponder." She began unplaiting her hair. "He got his hands on your Port Notice." Leia chuckled to herself. "A job on my ship was what he wanted."

The Solus Lily, Han thought. What a crazy, feminine name for a revved up ship. "You were lucky," he managed to say.

"I was. He's been like a brother to me."

"I see," Han said, because it was a mother of an opening.

Leia caught on to her mistake and widened her eyes. "We're not sleeping together. The smuggler he's having an affair with has more muscles than you and drinks his Gizer straight out of the pitcher."

Han grinned in spite of himself. That explained why he'd caught Jasod staring at his behind.

She shook out the flurry of tresses that reached nearly to her waist, then sat down and began removing her boots. "Han, you of all people should know that we do what we need to in order to survive."

"Are you alluding to ship-stealing and drugging?"

"Subtle?"

"No."

She tossed a dusty boot by the foot of her bed.

"So you're saying that the end justifies the means?"

"I'm suggesting that sometimes there's no other way."

Han felt his face tense up. "That ship meant a lot to me."

"The Solus Lily means the universe to me," she declared passionately.

"The Rrakktor's Revenge," he corrected. "She's not yours."

Like a stubborn child who wasn't getting her way, Leia tossed the second boot angrily at its mate. "What will happen to her now?"

"She'll go back-"

"Be parked on the skyhook?" Leia shook her head vehemently, as though picturing the ship decaying beneath layers of rust. "She needs to fly."

Han snorted. "Sweetheart, the first time I flew a ship you were probably still in training pants."

That got her to shut her up – at least temporarily. She dug around in her bag for a clean tunic. A few moments later she asked, "How's your bed?"

Han realised he had been fumbling with the laces on his boots for several minutes, staring at them, not seeing them. He'd tried not to watch her change but his peripheral vision had picked up pale skin flashing. He wasn't surprised Bracha e'Naso, magnate, had fallen for her and even though the temperature inside the shed was quite warm, he felt suddenly cold with jealousy. "How is Bracha?"

"He's been good to me. He wears his scars on the outside." She peered over the stove. "Why don't you ask what you want to ask?"

"About what?"

"Luke."

"He enlightened me."

"Yes, it's true. I chose to become my brother's mistress rather than the mistress of a decaying man ten times my age."

He heard the bitterness in her voice and remembered that the terror on her face yesterday had been genuine. The self-inflicted vibroblade cut along the side of her throat was real too. That didn't help the conflicted knot that had been building in his gut all day, the one that said maybe he should cut her some slack and try to understand what she'd been through on Coruscant. "And Iolu?"

"Was my lover and he was murdered."

The unpleasant knot in his gut kept growing.

She came over to crouch beside him and sat on her heels. "Yesterday, you had your say. Permit me mine." She took a deep breath that lifted her breasts. "I am sorry that I hurt you. I am sorry for the way I left you and for stealing your ship. Once you offered to help me and I refused and now I have no reason to expect it. I can only ask your forgiveness." Her gaze drifted to the generator and the shadows on the floor. "I could lie to you and say that I never loved Luke but I did. I can't ask anyone to try to understand and not judge me for it. I didn't realise how damaged he was until it was too late." She paused. A warm finger brushed against his cheek. "Are you over me yet?"

You so know better than to fall for this Solo. He had predicted this moment; he just hadn't predicted the mixed feelings. "Honey, if your grand plan is sweet-talking me into bed in the hopes that we can work out some kind of deal, forget it."

"Would that be so terrible?" She smiled. "Sweet-talking you into bed, I mean. I remember how it was between us. That was real. I'd rather touch you than talk about him."

"That's funny." Han rolled his eyes. "I don't recall giving you permission to do either." He wondered if he should tell her about Bryn, but it didn't seem right, because technically, he hadn't told Bryn about Leia. So he said, "Look. You stole my ship. You royally pissed me off. Ten years ago, I would have spaced you for it without a second thought, taken a nap and dreamed about a vacation on the beaches of Togoria. In case you're having delusions, I'm not about to give you my ship in exchange for an apology and a mind-blowing fuck."

"Who said this had anything to do with your ship?" she replied innocently.

"One plus one equals two horizontal bodies and something you want. That's how you work."

Leia wrinkled her forehead delicately. "You're such an idiot."

Han pointed at her. "And have I mentioned your seduction skills are sorely lacking?"

"Mind-blowing," she queried liltingly. "Is that how you put it?"

"That was merely a figure of speech," he returned. "Don't get cocky and take it personally."

"I thought you would appreciate an apology that was more personal." Emboldened, she placed her forearms over his folded elbows as though she were pinning him down. "Isn't that how you work?"

Everything below his neck was apparently delighted at the prospect of being molested by a scantily clad woman. "It's all chemistry and pheromones," he managed to say.

She kissed his throat, using her teeth and lips and tongue, and Han was so hard between his legs it was almost painful. "Hey," he said gruffly. Belatedly, he knew he kept avoiding the word stop on purpose.

"All right." Leia reclined back on her heels again and closed her eyes. Her thighs were longer and stronger than he remembered. "Play this your way Solo. Tell me you don't want me and I'll go back to my side of the..." She looked up at the wooden ceiling. "Whatever this is."

"Tent-shed," Han decided.

"Oh." She stared above her head. "I suppose it is."

Han released a long breath, unable to make a decision. The relaxed shape of her body in her long tunic, legs bare, was posed submissively, as though inviting him to touch and he couldn't bring himself to say or think anything that didn't end with her sprawled naked in his bed. His right thumb had a life of its own. It played with the hem of her tunic, sliding it back along her thigh until he could see pubic hair.

She removed her tunic. Beneath the garment, she was nothing more than mysterious singer from the Manarai who'd convinced him to give her flying lessons by astutely concocting the means to modify the hyperdrive on a YT-series freighter. Patches of her forearms were tanned where the wind had blown her long sleeves back during the ride. She was still beautiful all over, still sensual, just a trifle harder.

He reached over and laid his hand on her stomach. The muscles beneath her skin felt like live wires aching to twitch in fifty different directions. Then he thought, "What exactly do you think you're going to gain by this?"

"I don't know what else to give you." She dropped her gaze. The light caught the sheen of her eyes and the moistness of her lips. "And damn it, I've missed you."

What the hell… Han leaned over and kissed her roughly. Then his tongue found the cut on her lip sustained during their skirmish yesterday and he tried to be gentler.

"You don't kiss me as though you hate me," she said smiling softly.

"I'm more of a masochist," he joked. Han squirmed away from the edge of the bed, shoved aside the coarse blankets and started removing his clothes as fast as he could. He would worry about everything else tomorrow. "Get in."

It didn't feel like any time had passed. The sounds she made were guttural – not pretty, not dainty - but she clutched at him with both hands and knees and his blood roared in his ears. He remembered having sex with her like this on the Spirit, fast and furious in a race to finish before the ship was scheduled to come out of hyperspace. They weren't in hyperspace, but Han was afraid one of the settlers would hear a noise and drop in uninvited to see if they needed anything for the night, and he really didn't want to be discovered from that particular angle.

Much, much later, as the din of the festivities died down and her breathing evened out, he wondered when he'd become the type of man who would cheat on his wife.

The next morning, Leia smiled and said farewell to the settlers and said nothing to correct their assumptions that she would be returning in a few months. She didn't know whom, if anyone would be making the next run. They loaded their menial gear onto the swoops. Four hours later, they were back at the Lily.

He collapsed ungracefully into the pilot's seat and ordered Jasod to do the pre-flight and then set course for Drogheda. Leia tried to make herself useful but there just wasn't enough room on the ship for two captains so she gave up and sat behind them in the passenger chair. Tyne's Horky faded away and then the throbbing vibrations of the sublight engines washed up her tailbone.

When they'd made the jump to hyperspace, she crept to the main hold, wondering if she should be packing, but she couldn't find any empty crates so she slumped in the flight chair mulling over her limited options, wondering if last night had been the beginning or the end. The there was still an incredible, electric pull between them, but beyond that…

Down the corridor, Han and Jasod chatted with the relaxed intimacy of old friends. She tuned in to the conversation.

"Anyone can see you need an interpreter," Jasod was saying.

"You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yes I do."

"She drugged me," Han was saying with a touch of exasperation, as though they were arguing a point.

"Me too," Jasod replied. "So there."

"But I thought…. Ah, don't even answer that. I should have taped your mouth shut. Take over for me, will you." Seconds later, Han ducked into the main hold. "Eavesdropping?" he asked.

Leia regarded him blankly. "Why are we going back to Drogheda?"

"My other ship is there."

"The Spirit?"

"Yeah."

"Oh." All this time, she hadn't wondered how Han had made it to the Outer Rim. She wondered if he had hired someone – he wouldn't be able to fly two ships back to Coruscant by himself.

"I have a proposal for you." Han cleared his throat. "Ill sell you the Spirit for the going market rate."

The exhilarating thrill of hope began to run through her veins.

That was not taking into account her modifications or the fact that she's been well outfitted. "That's-"

"A generous offer," he finished. "Everything considered. You always handled her well during your lessons."

"I don't have enough in my accounts," she admitted. Even if she and Jasod were to go in together with everything they had, it was barely twenty percent.

"I already figured that. I'll spot you the total sum up front." He examined a scraped spot on his elbow. "It'll be a loan. You can pay me back in instalments."

It was a good deal, a million times better than culling together their savings and scouring the junkyards, finding a dealer who wouldn't pull a fast one on them and a loan shark without a reputation for leg-breaking. On the other hand, if she were paying him back in instalments, that mean he would be staying in contact with her, at least electronically. That could be tricky. "We'll have to be set up so that the payments can't be traced," she pointed out.

"Easily doable," he said, sounding this type of arrangement wasn't new to him. "We'll use aliases and a bank that has no branches on Coruscant or the Core. I'm going to be flying along the Perlemian Trade Route from time to time. I'll check in."

She furrowed her brow, analysing that. "What else will I owe you?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing," she repeated suspiciously, wondering if offering her the Spirit had been the backbone of his plan all along. "Certainly, you've considered that when you show up back at Coruscant with the… Rrakktorr - even if you managed to get away this time - my brother has probably kept an eye on you."

"She's always wanted to be black. I'll stop off, change the registration and transponder. Give her a name that's a little less feminine."

Leia felt confused. "Two days ago I thought you were going to throw me out an airlock. Now you're essentially giving me a ship."

"And you want to argue about that? Some people might call that crazy." He pointed toward the cockpit. "Your co-pilot would call you crazy."

"I need a clean slate," she said awkwardly. "With you."

"I believe you." He ran his hands through his hair, which was windblown, snowy-grey with dust, and standing rigidly on end. "I also know if you could go back, you would do the same again because he's insane and dangerous and hell, I don't know what you went through. Maybe I don't have it in me to forgive you, but I figure just because a pitten bites when someone jabs a stick at it doesn't mean it should be punished."

"Am I the pitten?"

"You had a raw deal on Coruscant." He sat down at the table. "You have – what did they call it - the Force-blood in you because of your father. The Emperor wanted to keep you under his control." His eyes were earnest, gold, green, and brown. "I guess… I don't really understand what went on with you and Luke..."

"I felt powerless for so long," she replied. "Now I'm not. I'm starting to forget. Out here, flying, I'm just like anyone else. It doesn't matter who I used to be or who I belonged to before."

"You know," he said conversationally. "Nine out of ten smugglers are running away from their past."

She stared at his knuckles. The instinct to touch him was strong. Without thinking, she reached over and slid her palm up over the fuzzy, wiry hairs of his forearm. "Then I'm just another faceless statistic."

"Look…uh…" Han glanced at her hand on his arm, looking freshly conflicted and uncomfortable. "I know we haven't gotten entirely caught up and you have something going on with Bracha."

She ceased the motion abruptly below his elbow. "You have someone."

"I have a wife."

The meaning of the word wife filled her mind in increments. She heard herself keep talking. "Oh, you married again?"

"Yes." He paused. "She's my previouswife."

"Did you change your mind about the nagging?"

"You remember that?" He rubbed his chin.

"Yes." Every second of their time together was etched into her brain.

"I had my reasons last night," he explained. "You had yours. If everything were different…" He made a regretful face. There was a finality about his words that hadn't been there before. "Leia, this is the best I can do."

"I understand. You came for your ship. Now you have her and it's time to go home." The trained actress inside her smiled at him reassuringly. "I need to go discuss your offer with my co-pilot."

"Sure."

Trying to quell the unexpected disappointment in the pit of her stomach, Leia headed down the access corridor and discovered Jasod grinning like a deranged Twi'lek, spinning the co-pilot's seat from port to starboard. The primary console was open and their hyperspace log was onscreen. He had half a dozen data discs spread across his lap. It took Leia a moment to realise he was busily copying the ship's records but she still said, "What are you doing?"

"Oh, uh…" He looked up guiltily. "I copied most of our files yesterday while you were making the run."

"You knew?"

"Yes. But no… he told me the other night."

"When I was unconscious?"

"Don't be angry." He took one look at her face and said fast, "I pitched the idea to him the other night. He said if I played along until after the delivery he would give it some serious thought."

Leia couldn't decide if she should slap him or hug him. "Anything else you need to tell me."

"The thermal detonator is a fake." The console ejected a data-disc and Jasod placed it in a compact file-folder. "Oh, and I think he genuinely still cares about you."

"Except that," she said.

Jasod peered up at her conspiratorially. "Then the only thing left to say is that I am solidly in agreement with you about his behind."

She shook her head and folded her arms across her chest. "I never said anything of the sort."

"You did that night we drank Reactor Cores on El Talil."

She laughed so hard, so unexpectedly, that she choked. She pressed the heel of her palm against her mouth hard, begging the tears not to come. They came anyway, running into the corners of her mouth, between her lips, and finally, onto the deckplates of the Lily's cockpit.