From a Certain Point of View
Han and Chewie sat alone at a table set for four in a ritzy restaurant on Coruscant. The Princess and her companion weren't so much late, as Han and Chewie had been early.
Han squirmed in his seat and looked towards the entrance of the restaurant yet again.
[It's a damn good thing a human's sense of smell is so underdeveloped,] Chewie growled under his breath while Han's attention rested on the woman now slowly walking towards them.
"Yeah, why's that?" Han whispered out the side of his mouth as Leia neared their table.
[Because I can smell your anxiety from here…,] Chewie hooted as the pair began to stand and right before Leia reached the table, Chewie added, [...among other things.]
Han jerked his head towards the Wookiee and shot him a stony glare.
[Hello, Princess. You look well,] Chewie growled politely and took Leia's hand inside of his large paw.
Han turned his attention to Leia and began to translate, "He said-"
"No, that's alright, Captain. I've been studying Shyriwook." Turning to look at Chewie, she replied, "Thank you, Chewie. So do you."
Wondering just how much of Chewie's previous comments she was able to make out, Han pulled her chair out for her and as she took her seat, he asked "Where's what's his name?"
"His name is Roman and he's working late," she replied matter-of-factly as she settled into her seat. "He sends his regrets."
Han sat back down and took a sip of the whiskey he had been nursing and asked, "So, how long you been seeing each other?"
She eyed him for a second and then said, "It's been several months now." Han watched her as she turned to the waiter and ordered a glass of wine. Turning back to him, she continued, "Since I've been on Coruscant." Placing her linen napkin on her lap, she asked, "Are you seeing anyone, Captain?"
"No one special. And no one on this planet."
The dinner was full of small talk, without one single, awkward silence between the three diners. The food and the drinks were excellent, which only added to the charm of the evening. Han made a mental note to thank that pilot for the restaurant recommendation.
Leia filled the two spacers in on all they had missed since they had left the Alliance, but it was a holonews account at best and nothing the two hadn't heard or known already. She talked quickly when she reached the immediate events leading up to the fall of the Empire, starting with Hoth up until her arrival on Coruscant, switching gears from holonews reporter to galactic historian.
Han and Chewie both expressed their condolences on the loss of Luke and it was the only 'down' point of the evening. But, ever the politician, Leia recovered the conversation skillfully and the three were laughing and sharing anecdotes before anyone had known what had hit them.
There was something different about the Princess that Han couldn't quite put his finger on. She was older and more mature, sure, but she had an edge that even years won't grant you naturally. For all that he had seen in his life, Han recognized something in the dull reflection of Leia's eyes that made his stomach turn uneasily.
Just what had happened to the young Princess that he had shared an experience in a garbage chute with? Even then, her world had just been destroyed, yet the gleam in her eyes was still there. Watching her as they made small talk, he cringed at the thought of the evil, heartless bastard or thing that had doused the fire out of those eyes.
Walking back to the Falcon following their meal, Han cursed the universe as a whole. Thinking of the Princess and picturing her face in his mind's eye, he couldn't remember a time that he felt so downright helpless.
It was less than a week later and once again on the sixtieth floor - Han made a special note of that happenstance - when he ran into Princess Leia again.
She was alone and the two came to a stop in the hallway. After a polite greeting, Han said, "I had fun the other evening."
She smiled and then replied, "Yes, I did, too. And I received your thank you note. That was…very sweet."
He stared at her, even though his brain was telling him not to, it was like her eyes were tractor beams and they were pulling him into their gaze. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he said, "I thought I might've heard back from you."
She blinked her eyes and looked down the hallway, over his shoulder. He felt an immediate relief from the magnetic pull of her stare. Looking back at him, she shook her head and said, "You know, Han…I just don't-"
"What? Have friends?" He hadn't meant to cut her off, but he followed her train of thought too quickly and took offense to it before she had even completed her sentence.
She looked at him and sighed heavily. "Men never want just friendship and I'm already in a relationship."
Wondering just what experiences she had had to warrant that little revelation, he countered, "Maybe you've been dealing with the wrong type of men."
She glanced down at her watch and then back up to him. "I've really got to go. It was great seeing you again."
"Okay," he mumbled, not sure why he felt the need to keep her near him. "Oh, here," he added as he dug a card out of his jacket pocket. "I have a secretary, too…if you would want to set anything up."
She shook her head and smiled warmly as she took the card from him and immediately read it. Still looking down at the card, she said, "A title and everything." Dragging her eyes back up to meet his, she smiled and said, "Well, wonders never cease, do they?"
"Yeah, well, don't make me wonder too long, okay?"
They both nodded at each other and then turned and went their separate ways.
Several weeks went by and Han had not heard from her. As the days ticked by, his mind became more and more preoccupied with how she looked and how she held herself now. Was he attracted to her? Sure. But this was different, almost like that tractor beam feeling again. He couldn't recall any woman filling his thoughts this way.
Was it an attraction or a morbid curiosity as to exactly what had happened to her during their time apart? Han couldn't be sure. But he contemplated the scenarios continuously until he had more theories running through his head than a statistician stuck in the maw.
Han walked towards his office one morning and greeted his secretary as she sat at her desk just outside of his office.
"Anything new, Vespa?"
"Yes," her head shot up at the sound of his voice and grinned wickedly before she said, "You've been scheduled for a dinner date with a…female."
Millions of unsolved statistical theories burst in his head like a supernova as thoughts of Leia actually dialing his comm number and asking him to dinner warmed his insides like he was some sort of lovesick sap.
Focusing his attention back to his secretary and trying to collect himself, he asked, "Does this female have a name?" As he walked into his office.
"Oh, she has a name," Vespa said dramatically as she followed him into his office. "A name with galactic recognition," she added as her voice rose and Han regretted, and not for the first time, hiring someone who reminded him so much of himself. "A name that sits at the top of the New Republic hierarchy," she continued with a teasing flare. "A name-"
"Alright, that's enough," Han, having entered his office, spun around and took Vespa by the shoulders as he turned her around and pointed her back towards her desk and out the door. "Some people have work to do around here."
She turned around right outside of his open door and continued in a much more serious tone, "I mean for quite some time now I've wondered why someone that looks like you…well, you must know how you look." As she said this particular speech, she looked almost embarrassed, if Han had thought her capable of that emotion. She continued, her voice low and conspiratorial now, "And not one single dinner date after all this time, well it makes a girl's mind wander." Han began to walk towards her as she continued, "But now it all makes perfect sense-"
He closed the office door on her and her deductive diatribe.
As soon as he sat down his comm rang, "Yes, Vespa?"
"Princess Leia Organa? I mean, really-"
"Bye, Vespa," Han cut her off once again.
He looked at his terminal and found the dinner date, four nights out. Leia's office comm information was listed under her name. Sliding his headset on, he looked at the comm and back at the screen several times before he finally punched in the buttons.
"Organa."
"Hey, it's me. Han."
"Hi, Han. I guess you got my dinner invite?"
"Yes, I just had one question."
"What's that?"
"Do I have to bring Chewie?"
There was a silence and for a moment he thought maybe he had blown it, until he heard her say, "No, I think I can handle you alone this time."
A grin spread across his lips as he pressed, "So, will what's his name be working late again?"
"What's his name always works late," she replied, her tone flat and not very revealing.
"Okay. I'll see you in a coupla days, then. Should I pick you up at your apartment?"
"No, I'll meet you at the restaurant. Thank you, though."
"Alright."
"Alright. Organa out."
"Solo out."
Han rolled out of his bunk the morning of their scheduled dinner with a definite spring to his step. The thought of dinner alone with Leia had been playing in his mind to larger and larger proportions the better part of the last four days. If the night ended in even a minute representation of some of his more pleasant scenarios, then Han would still be a very, very happy man.
When he entered the lounge he felt the change in the atmosphere almost immediately and it wasn't the Falcon's circulation system acting up again, either. Chewie was standing by the holochess table looking about as grim as Han had ever seen him and he had been on the wrong side of Wookiee slavery when the pair first met.
Chewie didn't say a word, but pushed a datapad towards Han on the table and set a mug of kaffe down next to it. Han slid onto the banquette and began reading the day's headlines while he sipped on the hot drink. His first swallow threatened to come right back up his throat as he read what was surely the thing that Chewie had intended for him to see.
Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan's heritage had been traced back to Padme Amidala, former Queen and Senator of Naboo and Anakin Skywalker, former Jedi Knight turned Sith Lord, otherwise known as Darth Vader. The New Republic was reportedly researching the recently uncovered evidence and had declined to comment on the news.
Han's stomach turned as his eyes landed on his copilot and friend.
[Did you know about this?]
"No," he replied, in shock, or disbelief or indignation; he couldn't quite place his emotions in one correct, little package.
Han spent the day on autopilot, going from meeting to meeting in a hazy fog. Did she know it already, is that why she looked so different? Was it even true? How was she dealing with it if it was true? By the end of the work day, Han felt as if he had been run through the autovalet, twice.
Not entirely sure how to proceed with their dinner date, he went to the Falcon and got dressed for the evening, arriving at the chosen restaurant early. After a couple of drinks at the bar, he decided she wasn't going to show and he wasn't entirely surprised by the fact.
He walked to her apartment building only to be joined by a wild mob of reporters and other assorted crazy people. Making his way to the burly doorman he had met on his last visit, he was promptly told that she was not accepting visitors. Not another very shocking revelation in light of today's events.
Not one to ever give up that easily, Han managed to sneak into her building through another entrance along with another set of men dressed in bureaucratic suits. As he walked among the herd of men that he had joined, Han looked down at his attire for the evening and lamented that at least dressing up had paid off for him in a very small way.
Once inside the building, he wasn't sure what to do, not knowing her apartment number or home comm code and unable to fall in with the group of men any longer as they began to disperse. He followed a trio of men to the turbolifts and took it to the sixtieth floor, having become fond of that number in recent months and thinking better of lingering around the lobby for any extended period of time.
Walking along the hallways of the sixtieth floor, he pulled his comm out and punched in her office number, the only one he knew for her and left her a message. "If you're anything like I think you are, you'll be checking this from home. I'm in your building and I will knock on every door until I find you. Comm me at five-nine-four-five before you get me arrested."
Han roamed around the catacomb of hallways on the sixtieth floor, vowing to think up a better plan as soon as he gave up on this one.
He jumped when his comm started to vibrate. "Solo," he spoke into the device.
"I'm not up for dinner tonight, Han."
"What about some company?"
"No, not that either."
"C'mon, Leia," he replied as he tried to think of that other plan. "If I snuck in, goddess knows what other kind of whackos might be roaming around your halls, what about if I hung around as your personal bodyguard?"
"No, I can take care of myself, thanks."
Han let out a deep breath and after a long silence, he offered, "What about as a friend?"
He got no response from that question, but he hadn't heard her sever the line, so he said, "You know you don't want to be alone."
There was another long silence and then he heard her say, "No. That's where you're completely wrong."
There was something different in her voice and Han clenched his jaw for a moment before he replied, "Whatdya mean?" Taking several deep breaths into her silence his determination swelled inside of him as he added, "Tell me what you need and I'll make it happen."
"I want to disappear," she replied quickly, her voice was a desperate whisper.
Han swallowed the lump that had crept up his throat and asked, "What's your room number, sweetheart?"
He sat there and waited, he could hear her steady breathing and then he heard a long, deep sigh before she said, "Two hundred and twelve."
And then the line went dead.