Luke refused to feel guilty about leaving the Alliance behind as they made the jump to hyperspace. He'd gotten a comm from Wedge Antilles just as they were headed out of the system, asking whether he could fly with the Rogues to deal with an unexpected distress call from a nearby Imperial controlled system. After demurring repeatedly and having his lame excuses rebuffed, he finally told Wedge about the purpose of their mission. Thankfully that had gotten the pilot off his back.
"So you just strolled up to General Rieekan and asked nicely?" Luke asked Lando. "That's bold."
"He likes Han," the other man said, "Told me that he thought it wasn't right that Mon Mothma was thinking about demoting him from general. Plus he's scared to death for Leia, though I don't know how he manages to keep his head on straight tracking that woman. It'd be enough to turn your hair white."
"Why would she strip his commission?" Chewbacca mused.
Lando translated for Luke, then told them, "She thinks he shouldn't have abandoned his troops to look for you. I guess there's lots of gossip going around about him and the princess. During the debrief, Derlin said Han insisted that Leia go with him to search, and Mon came to her own conclusions from there."
"That's ridiculous!" Luke said, his voice going up a pitch. "I don't know exactly what happened, but I know Han and Leia and neither of them would have put the mission at risk."
"Tell that to Mon Mothma," Lando responded grimly. "Rieekan thinks part of the reason she wouldn't authorize a rescue is because she's convinced they're holed up in a tree down on Endor making out."
Chewbacca spat out a curse, which Lando declined to translate. "Don't be too hard on her. She's got a lot to deal with right now. I can understand why rescuing two people who might already be dead isn't at the top of her list."
"They aren't dead," interjected Luke, "And I wish you'd quit saying that."
"Sorry." Lando slumped down into one of the passenger seats in the cockpit. They were all silent for a moment.
"I wish they could have been there when the thing blew," Luke said finally. "It would have meant a lot to both of them."
"Now who's being a downer?" Lando replied. "You said it: let's stay positive. For all we know they're halfway through a plot to take down the rest of the Imperial government right now."
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Leia couldn't help but grimace as Buff led them both into a supply closet, the walls damp with condensation. A rank smell wafted from down the hall where she could hear the distinctive noises of a 'fresher unit being used for both traditional and nontraditional purposes.
"Cleaning supplies are here," Buff said, pointing out the obvious mops, sponges, rags, and bottles of various chemicals. "Last call is in half an hour, then you've got eight hours 'til we reopen." Raucous laughter, followed by the sound of punches being thrown, echoed down the dark corridor, and Han instinctively stepped closer to Leia. "And that six credits an hour is for both of you. You want to partner up, that's your business. You'll get when we open up tomorrow, if you've done a good job." With that, he stepped out of the closet and shut the door behind him, leaving Han and Leia in darkness.
Immediately Han fumbled around, finding a string that illuminated a dim lightbulb on the ceiling.
"What are we doing here?" Leia whispered.
"We're off the street for the moment, aren't we?" he said, looking carefully at the cleaning supplies. "We'll find someone who can get us pointed towards my contact and then we'll be on our way. C'mon." He reached over to open the door, and found that Buff had locked them in. "What the hell?"
Leia stood watching him, hands on her hips and her head cocked in that particular way that demonstrated to him that she wasn't impressed. "Guess they don't want us mingling with the patrons," she smirked.
"Hang on." Looking around, he grabbed a small screwdriver and began jimmying the lock.
"Stop!" Leia pulled the tool from his hand. "We're just going to get kicked out if you do that."
"Well, what do you suggest we do?" he asked icily.
"Wait. Earn our money and regroup once we can think more clearly," she said, "We're both exhausted and starving, and probably have concussions. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise."
As she spoke, they could hear the sound of someone vomiting violently directly outside their temporary abode.
"All right, Princess," Han agreed, noting that he was hankering for a large sandwich, a nap, and a shower—in that order. "What do you suggest we do while we wait for our shift to start?"
She shrugged. "I don't know."
"I have an idea," he told her, winking. "On Corellia there's this game called Seven Minutes in Heaven…."
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Buff unlocked the door and muttered his goodnights, leaving Han and Leia to stare at the empty, half-lit nightclub in dismay. The floors were sticky with the residue of spilled drinks and occasional puddles of various bodily fluids. Tables were littered with dirty dishes and glasses with the stubs of cigarras drowning in the melting ice. The grill behind the bar was crusted with the burnt remnants of melted cheese. And that was just the main room.
"So, where do we start?" Leia asked, clinging to the mop she had brought out like a weapon.
"Here." Han hopped nimbly over the bar and pulled out some clean glasses. There was a sink to the side, piled high with dirty dishes. He swept a few of them out of the way and then filled two glasses with water. "Drink. You're dehydrated."
Taking it gratefully, Leia poured the water down her throat in a series of loud gulps, then handed the glass back to Han for a refill. He emptied his own then gave her another serving. "Not too fast," he warned. "You don't want to make yourself sick."
As she sipped the next glass more slowly, Han rummaged around in the cupboards, finally emerging triumphantly a few minutes later with a large jar containing a mix of nuts and small crackers, and a smaller jar stuffed with briny preserved vegetables. "Better than nothing, right?"
"Aren't they going to notice if we eat this stuff?" Leia asked as she strained to open the cocktail mix.
Taking it from her and twisting off the lid, Han said reassuringly, "Nah. This doesn't look like the kind of joint that keeps inventory on their snacks. There are probably ten jars of this stuff down there."
Grinning like idiots, they both crammed their hands in, shoving in mouthful after mouthful of the slightly stale mix, punctuating with bites of the sour pickled vegetables.
"I guess I was hungry," Leia admitted as she chewed. "I'm feeling better already."
"Me too." Han closed the jar and slid it back under the cupboard. "I guess we better to get to work though. Why don't we do a quick assessment of what we're dealing with and then we can regroup?"
"Yes, General." Leia saluted and then ducked as Han reached out to playfully yank her ear. "But you're taking the 'freshers."
"Of course, your highnessness," he said, strolling off towards the back hall while holding his nose ostentatiously. Leia started with the dining area, piling dishes in the middle of each table and noting the varying degrees of mess on the floor. A number of booths had items that the patrons had forgotten at the end of the evening, presumably too inebriated to worry about a lost scarf, hat, or, as Leia noticed with confusion, a dress and pair of shoes. She bundled up the items and set them on a relatively clean bench, wondering if the nightclub bothered with a lost and found, when she noticed something heavy in the pocket of one of the jackets. Reaching in, she smiled as her fingers closed around a comfortingly familiar shape.
"Guess what I found!" Han burst in with a wide smile on his face.
"Is it better than what I found?" With a flourish, Leia showed him the small blaster.
"Where did you find that?" he asked, his own discovery momentarily forgotten. He took it from her and checked the charge before starting to stuff it in his waistband.
"Hey!" Leia protested. "I'm the one who found it!"
"Oh, fine," he said, handing it back to her. "But I've got dibs on the next one."
"What did you find?" she reminded him, thinking he was mighty optimistic to assume they would find another weapon.
"C'mon, I'll show you." He took her hand, leading her through the back hall and over to a half hidden door with a clearly marked "STAFF ONLY" sign glaring out at all passersby.
"Are you sure we should…" Leia started to ask, but Han barged through.
"We're staff, aren't we?" he said. "Besides, look!"
The level of cleanliness had increased dramatically the moment they stepped through the door and up a small flight of stairs. Emerging into what appeared to be an employee lounge, they found a pair of small couches, a holoproj unit, and an ancient coffee machine humming in the corner.
"Nice," Leia said, confused as to why the little room had inspired so much excitement in Han.
"No, this is what I wanted to show you." He opened another door and grandly gestured her in.
"Oh my goddess," Leia said with a smile. "I can't believe it."
A neatly arranged shelving unit sat to the right, framing an autovalet. Further down a pair of sonic showers were built into the wall with a small sink and medicine cabinet immediately opposite. Han walked over to the medicine cabinet, proudly pulling out a first aid that he'd discovered.
Without another word, Han began stripping his clothes off, tossing them into the autovalet with the flair of a smashballer. He'd gotten down to his boxer shorts when Leia turned away, blushing bright red.
"What's wrong?" Han asked, knowing full well that Leia was feeling embarrassed to death. He was enjoying every minute of it.
"Maybe we should take turns," she stammered, avoiding looking at him as she headed back for the lounge.
"Princess, we don't have time to take turns and get all the cleaning done," he called after her. "I promise I'll behave myself." She poked her head back in as he added, "If you will too."
"Okay," she said softly, reentering the room. "But can you at least not watch?"
Fighting every instinct he had to make a suggestive remark, Han nodded in agreement. He pulled off the rest of his clothes and stepped down towards the shower.
"I've just never taken off my clothes…willingly…in front of a man before," she said by way of explanation as he started his shower. She threw her own filthy garments into the autovalet and started the cycle.
"What do you mean willingly?" he wondered, keeping his eyes closed as he heard her making her way into the adjoining shower stall. The sonic waves knocked the dirt from his body in chunks, and he reached up to ruffle his hair, wrinkling his nose as he saw wiry grey furs fall to the floor. Leia didn't respond to his question, but simply pulled the curtain closed and started up her own shower. "Leia? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she responded tightly. "Just checking out the damage from the last few days."
"Yeah, I'm real pretty looking too," he said. "Hopefully there's something good in that first aid kit."
"Hopefully."
He finished his shower in silence, taking time to enjoy the feeling of being clean for the first time in more than a week. As he turned off the unit, he realized there were unlikely to be towels, as sonic showers didn't get you wet in the first place.
"I'll go find something for you to put on while we wait for our clothes to be finished," he called to Leia.
"Thanks," she called back over the gentle hum of her shower. "Sorry about freaking out before."
"S'okay. Be right back."
He came up with nothing digging through the cupboards, then remembered that one of the couches out in the lounge had a knit blanket draped artfully over the stained upholstery. Better than nothing, he mused, as he carried it back in to her.
Leia finished her shower and then wrapped the blanket around her body. She found thankfully that it hung nearly to her knees.
Stepping out, she swiftly covered her eyes as she noticed Han was still clad in only his birthday suit.
"I don't look that bad, do I?" he said teasingly.
"Will you just cover yourself up?" Leia pleaded. "What if someone comes in?"
"No one is going to be here for hours," he told her confidently. "But if it'll make you feel better…" With a dramatic sigh, he unsnapped one of the shower curtains and tied it around his shoulder like a toga. She opened her eyes gingerly, and then giggled.
"Thank you," she said earnestly, then walked over to the sink and pulled out the first aid kit. "Now let me take a look at that eye."
"You first, your worship," Han said, pointing to the fading lump on her forehead. "And lemme get a look at your back. You look pretty banged up."
Carefully arranging the blanket, Leia let Han expose her back and ribs. He gently probed, looking at her with concern as she reacted with a yelp.
"Your ribs might be broken," he said solemnly. "How did that happen?"
"I accidentally pissed off a Wookiee," she explained. "Back at the shuttle hangar. Tossed me into a wall." He gently poked again, and she gritted her teeth. "It's not bad. I think they're just bruised."
"What happened here?" he asked, moving away from her tender ribs to stroke a purpling stripe of bruising above her collarbone. "It looks old. Did the Imps do that to you?"
"I don't know," Leia said, pulling away. "It doesn't hurt though. Seriously, let me look at your eye. It's still swollen." She popped open the first aid kit, hunting for bacta ointment or any kind of salve that would ease his black eye. "Can you believe they hired us?" she added conversationally. "They didn't even ask our names."
"They didn't want to know," Han said. "This sort of job tends to attract less than savory types. Gives the employer plausible deniability if they take in a wanted criminal."
"How apropos," Leia said wryly, as she finally found a jar of ointment and began gently smearing it over the darkened skin ringing Han's eye.
"Suits me fine anyways," Han continued. "I could never remember all the damn aliases that the Alliance assigned me." He took the jar from her, stepping in front of the mirror. "Let me do that. You don't need to be so delicate. I'm a big boy." He finished spreading the greasy substance and then dabbed some on Leia's forehead.
She looked up at him as he worked, and he leaned down to kiss her injury. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she nuzzled into his shoulder. "Whatever happens," she whispered, "I'm glad we're in this together."
"Me too," he replied, carefully putting his hands on her hips to avoid her bruised torso. "We make a pretty good pair, don't we?"
Leia didn't speak, but simply nodded with a smile, enjoying their quiet moment together. She refused to be scandalized by the fact that they were dressed in only a blanket and a shower curtain, tucked away in a corner of a shady nightclub in the shadiest region of Coruscant. After all she had been through to get Han back, she was determined to make the most of every moment.
The autovalet buzzed, and Han gave Leia final quick kiss on the tip of her nose before trotting over to fetch their clothes. He gallantly stepped out to allow Leia some privacy while dressing, taking his own garb out into the lounge.
"Now," he said, as she emerged in trousers and a shirt, her poncho tucked under her arm. "To work! I'll do the 'freshers if you tackle the dishes, then we can both scrub the tables and floor in the dining room."
"Are you sure?" Leia asked gratefully. "Those 'freshers are pretty gross."
"I survived hanging in Jabba's throne room for months, I'll survive this," he said nonchalantly. "Now scoot. We're wasting time."
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Leia wiped the final plate, setting it down on the last empty space on the sea of towels she'd spread across the bar. The place did have an automatic dishwasher, but there was no way she would get through the sea of dirty tableware without doing a few loads by hand. After she'd scrubbed the first few glasses, she got into a rhythm and was pleasantly surprised to find that the task wasn't as difficult as she had imagined.
Han strutted in a minute later, hauling a bucket full of foul smelling water. "Gonna go dump this in the utility sink," he said. "Care to do an inspection, make sure my work is up to snuff?"
"Okay," agreed Leia, following him back. As Han disappeared into the utility closet, Leia peeked into the first 'fresher room with trepidation. Gone were the rotten odors of waste and vomit, replaced by a sickeningly sweet citrusy aroma that barely masked the underlying chemicals. But in spite of the distasteful smell of the antiseptics, the room was shockingly clean. The floors sparkled, the mirrors shone. Even the toilets were gleaming white. Amazed, she looked into the other room, noting that he'd tackled that task with the same vigor.
"Where did you learn to clean?" Leia asked as she rejoined him in the main dining room. "That's incredible."
"I've had some odd jobs in my day," he said with a shrug, "You pick up skills."
"You'd never know you'd picked up that skill by looking at the Falcon," Leia added. "How come you never clean your ship?"
"I clean my ship!" he said indignantly. "It just doesn't get that dirty."
"Right." Leia rolled her eyes. "Shall we start on the dining room then?"
"Hang on just a sec." Han had spotted something behind the bar. Walking around this time to avoid disturbing Leia's carefully constructed tower of clean dishes, he pressed a button and then whistled victoriously as a holoproj unit lowered from the ceiling. "What's the frequency for the local news?" he asked Leia. "Maybe we can find out what's goin' on."
"Try one-point-one," she suggested. "That's the official government channel."
Han turned on the unit and tuned it as she recommended. The static quickly resolved itself into the official Imperial seal, with the sound of Imperial anthem blaring in the background.
"That's odd," Leia said. "Usually they have something on all the time. Try forty seven point three. That's one of the unofficial stations."
Han retuned the unit, but there was nothing but static. "How about fifty five point six?" Leia said.
That station resolved into a picture of an empty newsroom. They watched for a moment, but no one appeared. "One hundred and nine point three? That's just a music channel, but maybe they've got some information?"
Han changed the channel again. Immediately a high pitched wailing sound filled the speakers. He cringed, wondering what had happened to the staff at this station, when the pitch of the sound dropped. It wasn't, as Han originally suspected, a feline being brutally murdered, but rather was the opening notes of a song by a notorious—in his opinion—Chandrilan boy band. He was further horrified to see that Leia had begun singing along as she started wiping down tables.
"Don't tell me you like these guys," he said skeptically as he started stacking chairs in preparation for mopping. "I thought you had better taste than that."
"I wouldn't say I liked them," Leia told him, continuing to sway in time to the music. "They were popular when I was in school. It's…nostalgic, I guess."
"I read somewhere that these guys are actually droids," Han said with a smirk.
"I'd believe that," Leia shrugged, before launching into the chorus full volume. She winked as Han broke down laughing.
"I love you," he told her warmly. Twirling in time with the music, Leia danced over to him.
"I know."