Chapter 15

Han Solo's hazel eyes left the vid-screen on the shelf and landed on Princess Leia Organa. She stood framed by the doorway of the refresher. The T-shirt she borrowed from him hung off her shoulder and touched her mid thighs. Han swallowed; she never appeared more attractive than she did at this moment. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she was wearing his T-shirt.

Han cleared his throat. "I gotta go, Chewie."

He clicked off the commlink before Chewbacca had a chance to utter another word.

"Thanks again for letting me use your shirt." Leia tugged on the hem, exposing more shoulder.

"No problem."

An uncomfortable silence followed. Han's gazes traveled from Leia's face down to the rest of her body. Water dripped down her hair and was soaked up by the white material of the shirt. She twisted a lock around two fingers and stood with her left foot over the right, forcing her left hip to jut out. Her cheeks blushed pink.

"Was that Chewie?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah."

Leia tilted her head to the right.

"Are you going to tell me what news he had?"

"Oh. Yeah."

She sighed when he didn't elaborate. "And?"

"The assassin didn't follow 'em like we planned."

"Oh."

"Good news, though. Reikken's security team has some leads."

"What are they?"

"Chewie didn't say."

"You didn't ask?"

"It was a short conversation."

Leia placed a hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you going to tell me who they think the assassin is?"

Han dropped his gaze and scratched the back of his head.

"Forgot to ask."

"You forgot to ask?"

He looked in her eyes then looked away again. "Yeah."

Leia just stared at him. Han inwardly cringed.

"It was a short conversation." Lame.

She crossed her arms over her chest and sized up his words. He felt her eyes burrowing holes into his body. The silence began to fill the small room, suffocating Han. He fiddled with his commlink which laid upon on the table. Leia bit her lip and then released it. She opened her mouth to speak, and Han held his breath.

"I can't believe I forgot my pajamas."

"Hm?" Not what he expected. "Oh, yeah. Good thing I brought some. I don't usually wear 'em." Han winked.

Leia dropped her arms and rolled her eyes; Han's stomach flipped. He watched her cross the room and plop herself down on the bed. She sat with perfect posture in the middle of it and tucked her stocking feet underneath her thighs.

Han tossed the holo-screen remote to her, but Leia failed to catch it. She was staring at the screen with her mouth slightly open as if she had never seen a holo-screen before. Maybe it had been a long time; maybe it was the images on the screen. The smuggler expelled a breath, stood up, and grabbed the things he needed to clean up from his bag. He walked over to her, picked up the remote, and clicked a few buttons, switching the program from the news.

"Watch somethin' fun."

Leia looked up at him and took the remote from his propped-out hand. She then returned her attention to the screen. Han glanced at the holo-screen. A generic sitcom with a predictable plot played out. He stole a glance at Leia who intently watched the story unfold. He smiled to himself, continued with his path, and shut the refresher door behind him.

Leia's lilting laughter penetrated the refresher door. Han froze. When was the last time she laughed like that? He racked his brain; come to think of it, he had never heard her laugh like that. The sound was giddy, unrestrained, punctuated by bouts of silence. Han smiled again. It was such an intoxicating sound. He could spend hours listening to her laughter.

Solo looked at himself in the mirror and his smile faded. What was he doing? He didn't have room for romance in his life, not with a debt hanging over his head. He didn't even want a relationship, did he? Han desired something more from her, something more intimate and beyond their friendship...

He grabbed the edge of the sink as his world began to spin. Han never wanted attachments or the responsibilities of a relationship. Entanglements like that didn't go with his lifestyle. He had had relationships before—even had fallen in love on more than one occasion—but he was never willing to change his ways. Those relationships were short-lived a matter of convenience.

However, this time felt different. Han inhaled and forcefully expelled his breath. He had opened himself to her, shared things with her that he had shared with no one. It was still hard for him to be that transparent, and he still held back on revealing his past and emotions, but he wanted her to know more about him; he wanted to feel her deep inside his heart. He wanted to build a life with her—

Leia's life was rebellion and politics. That's what she was raised for, and that is all she seemed to know. Still, she had opened herself to him, had allowed herself to be vulnerable around him. Leia held back, though. Han couldn't blame her. He spoke of leaving too far too often, and she had already lost most of the people in her life with the destruction of Alderaan. She had experienced so much hurt and pain in her short life.

And Han couldn't stay with the rebellion, and he didn't want to be one more source of pain for her. He cared for her too much. He loved her.

When did that happen? His feelings most likely evolved over the last three years, but it hit him like a wall when he realized he loved her. That was nine months and twenty-two days ago in the mess hall after a particularly loud disagreement—okay, argument—between them. Han thought about their latest misadventure in the vent of the abandoned building, of how Leia's body pressed against his, of how she almost kissed him. Twice. His mind wandered to the memory of them hiding in the trunk, how she had comforted him in his moment of fear.

Could Leia love him? She had strong feelings for him; he was certain of that. She had shown him tenderness over the years—when they weren't arguing—and he had caught her looking at him with a dumb expression on her face. Han was sure he mimicked that same look when he gazed at her at times when she didn't notice. What if she didn't hold her emotions back? What would he do?

"Be careful," he told himself.

Leia laughed again, a belly-shaking laugh, Han imagined, and he smiled. He could see her fall back onto the bed, knees pointed at the ceiling, hands on her abdomen. Self-consciousness abandoned. She always seemed so self-conscious around him—at least when she was aware of his presence. Han had caught Leia staring off to a place only she could see many times. Her expression was always forlorn. These moments would only last a few seconds; she always seemed to become quickly aware of his presence.

Han always wondered what she was thinking about…

He shook that thought out of his head and walked into the shower.

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After a longer-than-needed soak, Han toweled off, dressed, and opened the refresher door. Leia lay on her back, knees pointed to the ceiling, and a hand on her abdomen apparently asleep. She had to be exhausted after their misadventure. Han pressed his lips together; she looked so young—younger than she usually did—lying there like that, not self-conscious, not aware of his presence. Han walked over to her.

"Leia?"

She didn't answer. Han looked at the holo-cube which was still on. He removed the remote from her hand and clicked it off. He then put his hands on his hips and smiled down at her. He sighed, lifted the side of the comforter, and covered her with it. He pursed his lips. He didn't want to wake her, but the comforter didn't sufficiently cover her. Han pulled away the comforter, pushed back the sheets, and slipped his arms under her shoulders and knees. She stirred; Han froze in the compromising position. When she failed to wake, he lifted her off the bed and put her down so that her head rested on a pillow. He leaned over and placed a kiss on her forehead before pulling the sheet and comforter over her.

"Pleasant dreams and stranger things."

Han yawned, stretched and climbed under the covers of his bed. With Leia forefront on his mind, he drifted to sleep.

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Han opened his eyes; something wasn't right. He listened to the silence in the room before rolling onto his back and twisting his head around. Leia wasn't in her bed. Han sat up. His brow furrowed as he looked around the room. Light seeped out of the crack of the refresher door. He held his breath and listened. Nothing.

"Leia?"

No answer. Han swiveled his body, dropped his feet to the ground, and walked over to the refresher door. He gently rapped on it.

"Leia, sweetheart?"

Still no answer. Han licked his lips and stood akimbo before pushing the door open. He found her sitting in the shower with her back against the tile wall and knees pulled up to her chest. She was hugging her legs to herself and staring at the opposite wall.

"You okay?"

She didn't move.

"Leia."

Leia looked up at him; her eyes were wide with fear.

"What's wrong?"

She blinked, opened her mouth slightly, and again said nothing.

"You're startin' to scare me."

Her large brown eyes left his face and gazed beyond his shoulder. Han touched the spot on his hip where his blaster normally rested and looked over his shoulder. Nothing was there. He crossed the threshold. The cold tile on the floor shocked his system but did not deter him from going over to her.

"Bad dream?"

She met his eyes again and closed her mouth. Han expected her to shut down, yell at him, insist that she was fine and not haunted by the tragedies in her life, but she defied his expectations by nodding.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

Leia swallowed and shook her head "no." Han pressed his lips together and turned toward the sink. He picked up a glass and filled it with water. Then he crouched down next to her and handed her the glass. Those large brown eyes that stared up at him…they squeezed his heart. Her hand brushed against his as she took the glass, and his pulse vibrated through his veins. She took a few gulps before resting it on her knee.

Leia cleared her throat. "I'm fine."

"I didn't say you weren't."

She eyed him for a moment as if she was gauging the truth in his words. Han bent over, took the glass from her hand, and placed it on the counter. He then stood to his full height and held his hands out to her. Leia bit her bottom lip before she took his hands. He pulled her up to her feet and led her out of the shower.

"I'll never let anything hurt you."

His words tumbled out of his mouth before he could catch them. How could he tell her that when he was planning to leave the rebellion, leave her? However, in that moment, Han realized how much he wanted to keep her safe, to be her protector—so much so that it hurt. How could he leave her? How could he even think of leaving her?

Leia released her lip as if she were about to say something, but then her mouth relaxed. Han dropped one of her hands and turned away. Han immediately regretted his would-be broken promise; she was the last person he'd ever want to make false promises to her. But wasn't his continued presence a false promise in its self?

He turned off the refresher light and walked her back to her bed. She sat down on the edge.

"I know."

Her words were just a whisper, but they slammed into Han's ears. He leaned over and placed a kiss on top of her head before he released her hand.

"'Night, Sweetheart."

Leia turned her head to the left and then to the right. Han's brow furrowed then relaxed.

"Where's your little light?"

"I left it on the ship."

He frowned then returned to the refresher. Han flipped on the light and closed the door so it was only open a crack. The light poured into the bedroom, creating a wall of illumination.

"Better?"

"Better," she whispered.

Han walked back to his bed, climbed in, and pulled the covers over his shoulders. He chewed the inside of his cheek. If only he could do more for her…

Just as he was about settled in, he lifted his bare chest off the bed and twisted. Leia still sat in the same place where he left her. Han pressed his lips together, scooted over to one side of the bed, and pulled back the covers. He stole a glance at Leia and took note of the furrow in her brow that was expression barely visible on her face. He rolled away from her and waited a moment before resettling. Offering her a spot in the bed was a stupid and foolish idea. She probably thought he was trying to take an advantage of the situation. If only he could take it back.

When his mind started to slip into oblivion, the bed jiggled. Han's eyes popped wide open and he froze. Then there was a tug on the blankets. He rolled a slightly back to free them from underneath his body. The pulling stopped, a jiggle followed, and the activity ceased. Han closed his eyes as he listened to Leia's respiration. At first, it was uneven and shaky, as if she were crying. He fought the urge to roll over and comfort her. He wanted to do so more than anything, but he feared that she'd rebuke his efforts. Things were going so well between them; he didn't want to chance scaring her away.

Leia's respiration fell into a pattern, and Han's body relaxed. Soon he joined her in sleep.