From a Certain Point of View
As much as Han and Leia had enjoyed their conversations shared in the kitchen of Leia's apartment, ever since their relationship had landed them in the same bed the kitchen conversations had followed them there as well. Looking back, it wasn't hard for Han to figure out why the two had only been able to drop their guards in the most non-sexual room of that apartment.
Now instead of Leia sitting on the counter watching Han fix a meal, their new routine had Leia lying on her back on the bed and Han lying on his side beside her. She inevitably was watching him as he diligently studied her. If the conversation grew too tense, he knew just where to trail his finger and if she did not wish to be set off course, she knew just exactly what look to give him.
If he could have cooked for her in bed, they never would have left it. They were like two teenagers who could think of nothing but exploring each other. He had memorized every bend of her body, and curve of her skin, every shade of the eyes that others would only see as brown. She had claimed him in much the same manner, their bodies were mere extensions of one another. What she wanted he gave her, what he needed she anticipated with her wants.
But there was something about his relationship with Leia that he had not cared to find with other women, but could not help to notice that it was missing with her. It felt as if he had forgotten to place his signature on some important line in the silent contract that had been reached between them. He knew that even in marriage one person never owns the other, but in love – especially in the love that he could not help to admit he was beginning to feel for Leia - he had expected to find a more solid grounding. But he had not. Every conversation, every inevitable argument, every time he kissed her or made love to her, he felt the loose gravel of their unsure footing slide beneath his feet.
"What about you, Han Solo?"
It was a morning where neither of them had any place to go. She was lying on her back leisurely, her arms tucked up underneath her head. He was next to her, his head on the pillow with his forehead pressed against the cool skin of her bicep.
He trailed his finger along her side, from her ribcage to her waist, causing her to flinch. "What about me?"
"You've always played the patient listener for me. When do I get to ask the questions?"
He raised his head and propped himself up on his elbow. "Ask away."
"Will you answer?" She looked at him for the first time since she had spoken, tearing her eyes away from the ceiling as if she had been reading a script.
He widened his eyes at her. "Sweetheart, I've been an open book to you since day one. I don't see what you could possibly want to know."
Her eyebrows shot down and she turned her body as if to roll out of the bed. "Forget it."
"Hey, what?" He grabbed her arm and she easily stopped but kept her back to him. "Wait a minute. What did I say?"
She turned back around to face him. Tucking her legs to the side, she held herself up on one straight arm so that her head was slightly higher than his. "I want you to tell me. I want you to talk to me. I don't want the Force to tell me what I want to know. Your dreams don't tell me everything."
"Okay. Alright. I'm sorry."
Her eyes fell to the sheets in between them.
He ran his fingers up the straightened arm that supported her. "Tell me what you want to know."
She slid her arm up underneath the pillow, lowering her body to the bed. Scrunching the pillow beneath her head and pressing her face against it, she shut her eyes and said, "No, just forget it."
He leaned into her, his face hovering in front of hers as his hand trailed over her shoulder and down the line of her waist. "Would you like to know what I want to do to you?"
There was a reluctant twitch at the corners of her mouth as she opened one eye and said, "No. That's no mystery."
"Would you like to know how much you mean to me?"
She hesitated, opening both eyes as she readjusted her head on the pillow. "No," she answered defiantly.
He lifted his eyebrows as if calling her bluff.
"Did you think of me?" A light blush took the place of any hint of amusement and her eyes lowered and then came back up to meet his. "When you left the Rebellion, did you think of me?"
Han swallowed and took his hand off of her hip where it had rested. "I barely knew you."
"That's not an answer."
"When I turned around that day," he began and then paused. "I told myself it was to save Luke's skin and deliver a godsdamn blow to the krethin' Empire in one fell swoop. And that wasn't a lie."
She raised her eyebrows and dragged the word out of her mouth. "Bu-ut?"
"But it wasn't the whole truth."
She turned over on her back and looked up at the ceiling while releasing an exhaustive breath. "Do you even know how to answer a question directly?"
He moved towards her, placing his face between hers and the ceiling, forcing her to look at him as he said firmly, "Yes."
"Then answer my question."
"I just did."
She shook her head at him. "I thought of you often."
The words hit him like salt on an open wound and suddenly every warning bell he owned was clanging inside of his head along with his heart in his chest. He relaxed back on his elbow and smiled, his mask of calmness firmly in place. "Well, I'm easy to think about."
She ignored his comment. "Do you ever think…about getting another ship?"
He had begun to equate her abrupt topic changes to a series of dummy jumps in hyperspace. They were meant to confuse pursuers and leave anyone who might finally make it to the real destination, confused as hell when they got there.
"No." He hesitated, like the Falcon used to right before her engines engaged. "I guess I will have to eventually, but right now I just can't bring myself to think about it."
They remained silent for a few moments, until she said, "Did you ever consider calling your old boss? To get your old job back?"
"Nah, he ain't the forgivin' type and I kinda like my kneecaps facing frontways."
Her eyes registered shock and she turned her body to him. "I thought he was fully legitimate. You make him sound like a Hutt."
"He was just this side of legitimate." He looked down and then lifted his eyes to her guiltily. "Just barely."
"Han Solo, did you secure a government contract while treading on the line of justice?"
The fact that justice and government got more of a rise out of her than their previous talk regarding their feelings did not go unnoticed. He straightened up the line of his spine. "You think I was the first? Or the last?"
"Doesn't make it right." Her tone and the set of her jaw reeked of indignation.
"I'm not a hero, Leia. Quit holding me up to these hero standards you've erected."
"You were a hero, once. And you came to the New Republic with that reputation. You ever think that's why you might've garnered that contract? You don't think people remember what you did and who you were?"
His eyes drifted away from hers.
"What do you have against being a hero?" He looked back up to her and she said, "It actually suited you quite well." No hint of amusement was left on her face and her eyes carried a sadness in them as if she had just lost her family pet.
He stared at her. Being surprised at how the mind of Princess Leia worked was something he had gotten used to. The woman who had the wherewithal to shoot her way out of a Death Star after watching her home planet get destroyed could certainly find the darnedest things to get emotional over. But the disappointed, hurt look on her face was not something he thought he might ever get used to or immune from.
Letting out a deep breath, he ran his fingers through his hair and his eyes scanned the room as if the control he thought he had in this conversation was hiding somewhere in a dark corner. He looked back at her, his expression serious and his tone matched it. "See that look in your eyes?"
She looked at him but said nothing and she did not try to change or mask her expression once he had called attention to it.
"I never want to do anything in my life again…" He placed his hand on the side of her face and rubbed his thumb along her cheek. "That puts that look in your eyes."
She smiled at him, the hurt and disappointment sliding off of her face. Turning her head, she pressed her lips to the palm of his hand. He lay down on his back and she followed him, nestling alongside of him with his arm around her.
"It never has been a hero that I've been looking for, you know."
"What is it then?"
She shook her head at him. "It doesn't count if I have to tell you."
Han rolled his eyes and mumbled, "Women," and Leia chuckled.