Author's Note: Okay, I'm going to tell you all straight up that updates will be slower in coming. I've just moved and am still trying to get into the swing of things at my new place. Until I've gotten myself straightened out, I'm afraid that the story will have to take a back burner. I'll try not to leave it too long, but no promises!

Also, I'm sorry about the amount of script in this chapter. I won't make a habit of it.

Chapter Sixteen: Kisses

I made it back to the Falcon and my cabin without mishap, and spent the two hours until Han and Chewie woke thinking about what I had just witnessed.

When I finally emerged from my cabin, my thoughts still whirling, Han and Chewie were discussing a flaw they had discovered in the asteroid we were in.

"You're right, pal," Han said in reply to something Chewbacca had just finished saying. "I'm going to shut down everything but the emergency power systems."

Threepio moved forward. "Sir, I'm almost afraid to ask, but does that include shutting me down, too?"

I smiled wryly. It was nice to know that some things, like Threepio, never changed.

Chewie barked something that sounded suspiciously like "yes." But Han grinned at the golden droid.

"Nah, I need you to talk to the Falcon, find out what's wrong with the hyperdrive."

Suddenly, the ship lurched. It wasn't the first time it had done that, but it was the worst one, and it sent us all off balance and several loose items flying. Chewie howled.

"Sir," Threepio said. "It's quite possible that this asteroid is not entirely stable."

Han looked ready to punch Threepio. "Not entirely stable?" he snapped back sarcastically. "Well, I'm glad you're here to tell us these things. Chewie, take the Professor in the back and plug him into the hyperdrive!"

If Threepio could have blinked indignantly, I was certain he would have. "Oh, sometimes I just don't understand human behavior! After all, I'm only trying to do my job in the most . . ." His voice trailed off as Chewie led him away.

Suddenly, there was another lurch, and when it was over, I found myself in Han's arms – not exactly where I'd expected to be.

"Let go!" I insisted.

Han simply hushed me, and I began to notice just how nice it was to be held. His arms seemed to support me effortlessly, and his chest was broad and strong. I could feel his abdominal muscles against my back through both our shirts . . .

But it would be best if I ended this before the damn pirate got any ideas. "Let go, please," I tried again.

"Don't get excited," he teased me.

That was it. My temper flared, and I tensed. "Captain, being held by you isn't quite enough to get me excited," I hissed at him.

"Sorry, sweetheart," the infernal man replied wickedly as he set me on my feet, gripping me under the arms as if I were a child, but his fingers brushed the sides of my breasts, sending streaks of heat through my body. "Haven't got time for anything else," he added evilly, smirking as he left me alone in the cockpit.

I stood still for a moment, wondering if the moment had really happened. As a Princess, Senator, and leader of the Alliance, I had very little time for romance, but I had hoped for love and a family all my life, just like many other little girls. Of course, I was only twenty two, and had convinced myself that I still had plenty of time to settle down, but in reality, my lack of experience worried me. Was there something unattractive about me?

Or had the Force simply decided that I was meant to be with an unruly, uncouth smuggler from Corellia?

A princess and a smuggler. I pursed my lips, certain that the aforementioned smuggler was currently laughing uproariously at my expense, patting himself on the back for having shaken my carefully crafted cool.


I finished with the valves I had been repairing and tried to pull the engagement lever. It was stuck. I hissed in frustration as I tugged on it, taking all my anger at Han out on it.

Suddenly, arms came around me. I jumped in shock and pushed back, about to attempt to pin the intruder against the wall before I recognized him. When I did identify him, I ignored him, turning back to the lever.

"Hey, Your Worship, I'm only trying to help!"

I clenched my jaw. I was going to have to talk to him. "Would you please stop calling me that?"

To my surprise, he replied, "Sure, Leia," more amicably than I'd ever heard him sound before.

"You make it so difficult sometimes," I informed him, still not bothering to look at him as I fought with the lever.

"I do," he agreed, and I nearly fell down in shock. "I really do. You could be a little nicer, though."

I clenched my jaw again. I knew there was a catch. I resisted the urge to tell him that if he would simply stop insulting me at every chance he got, then I would be nicer. Didn't he know how his behavior got my hackles up? Couldn't he see that I was simply reacting to the atmosphere he set?

"Come on, admit it," he pushed gently. "Sometimes, you think I'm alright."

Finally I gave up on the lever, and turned around, nursing my sore hand.

"Occasionally," I admitted grudgingly. "When you aren't acting like scoundrel."

He laughed at me, and I nearly punched him, except he had taken hold of my hand and was massaging it. I swallowed. Hard.

"Scoundrel?" He repeated. "Scoundrel? I like the sound of that . . ."

"Stop that," I begged quietly, but there was no heat in it.

"Stop what?" he asked innocently.

"That!" I tugged at my hand, but he held it firmly. "My hands are dirty," I said lamely.

He grinned, catching the excuse for what it was. "My hands are dirty, too. What are you afraid of?"

I raised my chin and met his eyes. "Afraid?" I meant for it to come out as a challenge, but it was far too weak for that.

He began to close the distance between us. "You're trembling," he observed.

I was not! Was I? "I'm not trembling," I insisted.

He was still moving toward me, and I couldn't bring myself to move away.

"You like me because I'm a scoundrel," he told me confidently. "There aren't enough scoundrels in you life."

He was so, so close now, his gaze fastened on my mouth. His words were becoming distant, absent. He was no longer focused on the conversation. My heartbeat sped up. I wanted this so badly, but at the same time, what would it do to our working relationship? What if it didn't work out? Force knew how long I'd be stuck with him – what if it was all spent in awkwardness because this, whatever it was, didn't work?

"I happen to like nice men," I whispered in a last ditch effort to dissuade him, but my tone was breathy and expectant and not dissuasive at all.

"I'm nice men," Han murmured, and that was when I knew that this was going to happen. Definitely. For certain. But still, I couldn't help arguing with him.

"No, you're not, you're –" And then his mouth was on mine, lips covering my own, warming me from head to toes. He kissed me slowly, and I moaned softly in protest, involuntarily pressing my body into his, wanting to feel him against every part of my body. I rose onto my toes in an attempt to try to get closer to him. Hesitantly, I put my hands on his chest, not sure what else I should do with them, only wanting to please him. Would he prefer it if I wrapped my arms around his neck? Or around his waist? What did he want from me!?

And then his hands were moving. One crept up my arm to the nape of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair. The other slid slowly down my side to the small of my back, pulling me closer to him, and started to go lower, as if he was going to hoist me up . . .

"Sir! Sir! I've isolated the reverse power flux coupling!"

Han pulled away, aggravation in his eyes. With one hand against the wall, he turned to Threepio coldly. "Thank you," he said tightly. "Thank you very much."

I slipped away from him, too overwhelmed to stay and confront what had just happened.

"Oh, you're perfectly welcome, sir," Threepio replied happily as I stole away.


I rose from the boat, acutely aware of my dress – and how it revealed my entire back and arms – as I stepped onto the dock. Anakin fell into step beside me, and I was just as aware of his gaze on me. I fought down a blush and took the stairs as gracefully as I could as a trio of servants carried our luggage into the house.

Neither of us spoke as we crossed the veranda, and I wished Anakin would say something. This was getting awkward. We'd had our share of awkward moments lately, and I was sick of them. Unfortunately, I couldn't think of anything to say, so I was left hoping he would.

But he didn't.

We stopped at the edge of the veranda, and I gazed out over the lake.The way it shimmered and sparkled in the sun brought a memory to mind, and I decided to share it, desperate to break the silence.

"When I was in Level Three," I began, "we used to come here for school retreat. See that island?" I nodded at it. "We used to swim there every day. I love the water."

"I do, too," Anakin replied softly, not even glancing at the water; instead, his eyes were focused on me. "I guess it comes from growing up on a desert planet."

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore his attention. "We used to lie on the sand and let the sun dry us, and try to guess the names of the birds singing . . ."

"I don't like sand," Anakin told me. "It's coarse and rough and irritating, and it gets everywhere. Not like here. Here . . ." He raised his hand and stroked his fingers down my arm. I fought off a shiver of pleasure. "Everything is soft . . . and smooth . . ."

I tried to calm my racing heart, certain he must be able to hear it, it was beating so hard. "There was a very old man who lived on the island. He used to make glass out of sand – and then he'd make vases and necklaces out of the glass. They were magical."

He waited until I turned to look at him, and caught my eyes. "Everything here is magical," he told me, his voice husky, and my knees nearly gave out from under me.

I took a breath and tried to keep my mind on track. "You could look into that glass and see the water . . . the way it ripples and moves. It looked so real . . . but it wasn't."

"Sometimes," he replied – and was it just me, or was he closer than he had been? – "when you believe something to be real, it becomes real. Real enough, anyway . . ."

Yes, he definitely was closer – and moving closer still. "I used to think," I said desperately, but unable to tear my eyes from his, "that if you looked too deeply into the glass, you would lose yourself."

"I think it's true," he murmured absently.

And then he closed the small distance between us, and his lips met mine.

I nearly melted. He was so warm, and he smelled so good . . . he tasted like a delicious mixture of spices, and his hand stroked lightly up and down my arm. He made no move to pull me closer, and I began to relax, heat spreading though me as I returned his kiss. This is okay, I told myself. This is innocent, it's chaste, it's not going anywhere . . .

Liar! screamed the rational part of me. If this is okay, next you'll be saying it's okay to let him touch you, okay to let him see you, okay to let him have you . . . stop! Stop now!

I broke the kiss. "I shouldn't have done that," I gasped, and turned back to look out at the lake.

"I'm sorry," he murmured in my ear, still so, so close. "When I'm around you, my mind is no longer my own."

I nodded, too quickly, too vigorously. "It's the situation," I said, making excuses for the both of us. "The stress –"

He looked directly at me, and added, "The view."


"There is still good in him."

I woke from my nap with a start.

Even my dreams were turning against me! Could I not find a respite from my confused feelings even in sleep?

I reached out for the control panel, imagining Han's large, strong hands working here, in the ship he knew so intimately . . .

I sat up, my hand still trailing on the dashboard. Had I heard something?

And then I jumped back in shock as something attached itself to the window, giving me an unwelcome view of the underside of a suction pad and glowing yellow eyes. I moved further back as the thing let out a screeching sound and moved away.

I raced from the room.

I found Han, Chewie and Threepio in a spare cabin. "There's something out there!" I insisted, my eyes locked on Han's. There were the first words we had spoken since our kiss.

"Where?" he replied.

"Outside," I told him, wishing he'd just understand already. "In the cave."

As if to prove my point, there was a loud, sharp banging sound on the hull of the ship. Chewbacca barked in anxiety.

"There it is!" Threepio exclaimed. "Listen! Listen!"

"I'm going out there," Han said abruptly, moving toward the entry hatch.

"Are you crazy?!" I half hissed, half shrieked.

He gave me a look. " I just got this bucket back together – I'm not about to let something tear it apart again."

Han and Chewie both grabbed breath masks and headed out the door. Hurriedly, I followed.

"Then I'm going with you!"

"I think it might be better if I stay here and guard the ship," Threepio called after us. We didn't pay him any attention.

It was extremely dark outside, and surprisingly soft and sticky.

"This ground sure feels strange," I commented. "It doesn't feel like rock at all."

Han knelt to get a better look at it, then glanced around the cave. "There's an awful lot of moisture in here," he said slowly.

I shifted uneasily. "I don't know," I said doubtfully. "I have a bad feeling about this . . ."

"Yeah . . ." Han commented, his attention focused elsewhere. "Watch out!" he shouted at me as he shot something, and it fell at my feet.

I skittered backwards, nervous. Han moved to look at the thing.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he mumbled, half to himself. "Mynocks. Chewie, check the rest of the ship, make sure there aren't any more attached. They're chewing on the power cables.

Great. Excellent, I though sarcastically.

"Mynocks?" I inquired aloud.

"Go inside," Han told me reassuringly. "We'll clean them off if there are any more."

And as if he had conjured them with those words, we were swarmed with the ugly creatures. I covered my head with my arms and dashed for the ship.

Suddenly, there was a shot, and the cave rocked angrily. Han caught me and together we ran up the boarding ramp. As soon as we were inside, Han let me go and look for Chewbacca.

"Alright, Chewie, let's get out of here!"

"But the Empire is still out there!" I protested, keeping up my ruse. "I don't think –"

He simply pushed past me. "No time to discuss this in a committee!"

I stared after him for a moment, confused by his mixed signals, then wondered if I was reading too much into his actions. "I am not a committee!" I replied hotly, following him.

Han already had us in the air by the time I reached the cockpit. "You can't make the jump to lightspeed in an asteroid field –"

"Sit down, sweetheart, we're taking off!" was his terse reply.

Chewie barked.

"Look!" Threepio squealed, pointing out the main window.

"I see it, I see it!" Han snapped.

"We're doomed!" Threepio cried. I resisted the urge to smack him, certain I would only hurt my hand on his metal plating.

"The cave is collapsing!" I said in shock as I looked out the window.

"This is no cave!" Han told me tightly.

"What?" I said, and then realization dawned. We were inside something. And if this was the end were coming out – I didn't want to think about the end we went in.

We barely made it out. Han winced as we felt the vibrations of the thing's teeth nicking the hull. I could sympathize.

And then the fire from a Star Destroyer started.

Han glared at the nav screen with outraged dismay. "Let's get out of here," he muttered. "Ready for lightspeed? One, two, three!" He pulled back the hyperspace throttle.

And nothing happened.

He blinked in shock, then burst out, "It's not fair!"

Chewie began a loud, angry series of barks and growls, complete with flailing arms and pounding fists. Han tried the lever again.

"The transfer circuits are working!" Han replied to something Chewie said. "It's not my fault!"

What had Vader done to the ship that Han couldn't fix?

"No lightspeed?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"It's not my fault," Han whined at me, his eyes wide.

"Sir," Threepio interrupted, "we just lost the main rear deflector shield. One more direct hit on the back quarter, and we're done for!"

Han's lips (oh, those heavenly lips!) tightened into a line. Then, he pulled another lever.

"Turn her around," he ordered.

Chewie looked at him as if he'd gone insane and barked something at him.

"I said turn her around!" Han repeated. "I'm going to put all power in the front shield."

"You're going to attack them?!" I squealed in shock.

Threepio didn't like that much, either. When he spoke, his voice was pitched slightly higher than usual. "Sir, the odds of surviving a direct assault on an Imperial star Destroyer –"

I made my decision: to support Han. "Shut up!" I ordered Threepio.

He listened to me for a bare moment, then began again. "Captain Solo, this time you have gone too far!"

Chewie growled menacingly at Threepio, but the droid was wound up far too tightly. "No, I will not be quiet, Chewbacca! Why doesn't anyone listen to me?"

Han glanced over a Chewie, ignoring Threepio completely. "The fleet is going to break up. Go back and stand by the manual release for the landing claw."

Chewie obeyed with a bark.

"I really don't see how that is going to help," Threepio continued. "Surrender is a perfectly acceptable alternative in extreme circumstances. The Empire may be gracious enough to–"

And he fell silent as I let my hand drift away from the switch under his chin.

Han shot me a grateful look as we settled onto the exterior of the Star Destroyer. "Thank you."

"What did you have in mind for your next move?" I asked.

"Well," Han began to explain, "if they follow standard Imperial procedure, they'll dump their garbage before they go to light-speed, then we'll just float away."

I smirked at the irony. "With the rest of the garbage. Then what?"

"Then we find a safe port somewhere around here." He switched on the computer and opened a search field. "Got any ideas?"

"No, where are we?" I peered over his shoulder.

"The Anoat system," he replied.

"Anoat system." I mulled that over for a moment. "There's not much there."

"No," Han agreed, then tilted his head in consideration. "Well, wait. This is interesting. Lando." He pointed to a spot on the screen.

I followed his finger with my gaze. "Lando system?" I asked, confused. I'd never hear of it.

He gave me a little smirk. "No, Lando's not a system, he's man. Lando Calrissian. He's a card player, gambler, scoundrel." He caught my eyes with his own. "You'd like him."

I tore my gaze away from his flirtatious stare. "Thanks."

Han looked back at the screen. "Bespin. It's pretty far, but I think we can make it."

I read some of the information. "A mining colony?" I asked skeptically.

"Yeah, Tibanna gas mine. Lando conned somebody out of it. We go back a long way, Lando and me."

"Can you trust him?" I asked pointedly.

Han looked insulted. "No! But he has no love for the Empire, I can tell you that."

A bark form Chewie came over the intercom. Han craned his head around to look out the window.

"Here we go, Chewie. Stand by . . . detach!"

And so we floated away. We all head our breaths for a moment, but then the Star Destroyer hopped into hyperspace and was gone.

I couldn't keep the grin from my face. I looked down at Han, whose relief matched my own, and made an instant decision.

I kissed his cheek. A small gesture, but it meant a lot to me. I hoped he realized that. It was an experiment, a where-are-we-going-with-this, what-do-all-these-new-feelings-mean, I'm-willing-to-try-if-you-are kind of kiss.

Out loud, I simply said, "You do have your moments. Not many, but you do have them."


"Leia?"

I started violently, nearly falling off my chair. "Yes?" I answered after a moment.

It was dinner time, and only Han and I were in the room. Chewie didn't eat with us (I took Han's excuse about Wookiee eating habits at face value) and we hadn't turned Threepio back on yet. It made for a rather quiet meal.

Except I wasn't eating. I looked down at my bowl, from which I had been spooning up stew only to pour it back in again. I covertly glanced at Han's dish. He was nearly done.

A line appeared between his brows, indicating just how awkward he found the situation. I tensed. That didn't bode well.

"I don't . . ." He waved his spoon in the air, searching for the right words. "You've just seemed . . . a bit off, lately. Preoccupied, like. I was just wondering . . ."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you sure you want to know?"

He blinked. "Well, I think so. I mean, it's not . . ." He paused, and the line deepened. "It's not that time of the month or anything, is it? Cause I really don't need –"

"No," I interrupted, almost as embarrassed as he was. Our relationship was definitely not to that stage yet. "Just . . . a question."

He put his spoon down and laced his fingers together under his chin, elbows on the table, looking at me expectantly.

I took a breath. "What would you do . . . if your enemy turned out to be . . . something . . . other than what you expected?"

He pressed his lips together in thought. "You mean, if you discovered a secret about them that makes them seem a bit more human?"

I nodded, surprised at his maturity and insight. "Yeah, something like that."

He shrugged. "Well, depends on the secret, doesn't it? Are we talking big enemies or little enemies, here?"

"Well – strictly hypothetically – big ones. Like Imperials, for instance."

He tilted his head and a sparkle entered his eye. "Like Vader?"

I stared at him, nearly panicking. "No – Vader's – he's –"

He held up a hand. "Just humour me on this, okay?"

I bit the inside of my cheek. "Alright," I agreed cautiously, already planning the quickest route to the escape pods in case he pulled a blaster on me for my deception.

He stared down into his empty stew bowl for a few seconds, jaw working as he put his thoughts in order, then looked up at me again.

"Little known fact of the matter is, that suit he wears was designed by Corellians," Han began slowly. "When I was a kid, I was going to do a project on it for school; the teacher found out and forbade it. Never did like that teacher after that," he added as an afterthought.

"Why forbid it?" I asked, not understanding.

He gave me a mirthless half-smile. "Cause Vader uses it. And they don't want anyone finding out why. If anyone knew anything that could come across as a weakness in Vader, they'd be deader than a doornail within hours. Not that thy told me any of that. Course, it didn't scare me too much, and I did some research anyway."

"And?" I breathed, almost afraid to ask.

"And it was originally designed for a man who'd had first degree burns over seventy five percent of his body. Guy had a phobia of death, apparently. Anyway, it's basically a torture machine. It's awkward, and painful, and as soon as you can get corrective surgery, you should, because this thing is downright nasty. I don't know how Vader's put up with it for so long."

I swallowed. Hard. "So . . . what are you saying?"

He leaned toward me earnestly. "Now, don't get me wrong, I think the guy's a sick, twisted son of a bitch. But honestly, Princess, you're telling me that you don't wonder what put him in that suit? Why he still has to wear it? Who he was before he had to put it on? And really, can you blame the poor bastard for acting the way he does? And knowing all that about that suit, can you still hate him as much as you did?"

I could hardly believe my ears. "You . . . pity Vader?"

He sat back. "Well, now, pity is a strong word . . . but yeah, I guess I do. He's evil to the core, too, but . . . don't you ever wonder why he's evil? Does that suit maybe have anything to do with it?" He shrugged and rose from his seat. "Anyway, that's all deeper than I planned to get. See you, Your Worship."

And he walked out the door.

I sat there for a long time afterward. All that talk about Vader . . . could Han really not know my secret?

I pondered that question until I fell asleep at the table.