How will Han and Leia get out of this? Will Han come up with a plan? Let's find out ;)

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It was cold inside the austere cell of the detention center. Leia huddled on the floor, arms wrapped around herself, extremities still twitching from the round of electric shocks she had endured. Her fingers were numb and she hoped she had not sustained any permanent damage.

She didn't understand. She had been tortured, but never asked any questions. What was Darth Vader's motivation? She knew he could be extremely sadistic, but why would he ask no questions of her? Why wouldn't he attempt to extract secrets of the Rebel Alliance? It made no sense. He had just stood and watched, that loud, modulated breathing seeming to fill her head.

Her thoughts returned to Han…where had he been taken? What were they doing to him? He had still been here in the cell when they had come for her. When the Stormtroopers had shoved her back through the doorway and she realized he was gone, she began to worry. That must have been more than thirty standard minutes ago, in which time she had wrenched her attention back and forth between concern for him and the nagging curiosity as to what Vader's game was. Wondering about Vader was preferable to imagining the worst about Han's fate.

Leia was not one to be prone to hysterics, but she couldn't deny the rising concern that managed to climb just short of panic before she forced it back down again. Decidedly calm now, she told herself she would not assume the worst.

Faster than she could process, the cell door slid open and Han fell forward onto his hands and knees as the door closed and locked with a loud, final thud.

"Han!" she cried.

He dropped to his stomach on the floor as Leia rushed to his side. He looked pale, hair disheveled, with dark circles ringing his eyes.

"Are you okay?" She placed a hand on his shoulder as he rose to his knees and sat back with a groan.

"Never better," he grumbled. His clouded eyes regarded her seriously. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, ignoring the pins and needles in her fingers as she helped him crawl backwards to sit against the wall. She sat beside him and placed a hand on his arm. "What did they do to you?"

He gave a slight shrug. "Nothin' I couldn't handle." His voice was gruff and dismissive, but she could see the physical after effects and knew he was downplaying it. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

"Did they ask you any questions?"

His head came up and he looked at her with squinted eyes. "No. I don't get it."

"I don't either. They didn't ask me a thing. Why are they doing this if not for information?"

"It doesn't make sense."

They settled quietly and Leia rested her head on his shoulder, thinking about the failed mission.

"Knew I didn't trust that guy," Han finally spat. "Bastard."

"He worked with General Rieekan in the past. I assumed he was trustworthy."

"Never assume, Sweetheart." His words sounded teasing but his tone was sober.

She couldn't argue and so she said nothing. Leaning against him, a myriad of feelings welled inside her. She wondered what would become of them, if Vader would kill them. He might want to keep Leia alive, as a bargaining chip with the Alliance or for information. But, what about Han? Would Vader find a reason to keep him alive? What if these were their last moments together?

"Han?"

"Hm?"

"There's something I want to tell you." Her stomach churned nervously. "In case…in case this is—"

"Hey. Don't. I'll get us out of this."

Leia was torn. She wanted to admit her feelings, yet was relieved that he apparently didn't want to hear it. She sighed and decided to express just a bit of her turmoil. "I'm sorry I got you into this."

His eyes snapped to hers. "Whadda you mean? It's not your fault."

"It is," she said quietly, gaze on the dark floor. "The only reason you were on this mission was because I was out of control. Taking too many risks." It pained her to admit Han had been right all along. "I was angry," she admitted. "I wanted to fight back on a more personal level. You were right." She kept her eyes averted and waited for Han to gloat.

He began to move his shoulder away from her and dismay centered in her chest. But quickly, his arm encircled her and pulled her closer to lean against him more fully. "Don't worry, Princess. I'm glad I'm here."

Her gaze drew upwards to eye him as if he were crazy. "You're glad that you're here? Held prisoner in this cell?"

"Yeah." He seemed to hesitate before finishing his thought. "I don't trust anyone else to get you outta here," he concluded in a rough voice that did not match his sentiment.

The constriction in her chest softened suddenly, melting to a warmth that seemed to course all the way through her veins. She didn't know what to say, so she placed one arm across his chest and wound the other behind his back to hug him tightly. His arm squeezed her closer to him in return.

As she melted into the contours of his body, she was overwhelmed with a tourbillion of emotions rising to a peak inside her. She closed her eyes against the feelings, guarding them fiercely, as if they might slip away with this moment.

When she was able to speak again, she did so without looking at him. "You do always take care of me." After a short pause, she smiled wryly. "Of course, I've managed to take care of you a few times."

"You talking about Nimbla IV? I woulda gotten out of that on my own."

Leia sat up, indignant, pulling one arm from behind his back but leaving the other to remain across his stomach. "Oh, sure you would have." She rolled her eyes. "And let's not forget about your friend Lando."

A small, chagrined grimace twisted at his lips. "Forgot about that one."

She scrunched her face up in a sardonic, knowing look and he smiled back. In that moment, she couldn't begin to remember what all their past strife had been about. Leaning back down, she returned her head to rest against his chest.

"Why do you make it so difficult to remember how angry you've made me?" she chuckled in a rare moment of candor.

A small bubble of laughter rumbled in his chest. "Maybe cause I'm so damned good looking."

She couldn't argue, so she only laughed softly. "Is that what you've been told?"

"No one has to tell me. I've looked in the reflector."

Leia rolled her eyes again but couldn't help the affectionate smile that burst forth. She gazed up at him, feeling a minimal grip on her emotions. He was smiling but continued to stare at nothing.

The gravity of their predicament descended again. "Any thoughts on how we'll be getting out of this?"

"I'm workin' on it."

"I'll take that as a no."

"Hey, I do my best work when it's down to the wire. Gimme some time, will ya? I'll come up with something."

She sighed, mentally damning that slicer. At least he had gotten what he deserved. But, the Alliance still needed to obtain the Death Star plans. That monstrosity needed to be stopped before Palpatine amassed even more power through fear and intimidation.

"Don't worry," Han said, patting her firmly on the shoulder. "I've got it all under control."

She sighed again. If this was his idea of having things under control, she was a bit worried about what would happen when he didn't have things under control.

###

Han still didn't understand. They had lost count of how many days they had spent in this dismal cell on the Death Star. During periods of torture, he had slipped in and out of consciousness, unable to be certain of how much time had passed. Although they hadn't discussed the details of their individual torture sessions, he felt pretty certain that Leia had gone through the same.

It had been three days since either of them had been subjected to any sort of physical torment. Other than the single time each day that a tray of food was slipped through a compartment in the door, they had been left completely alone. Han couldn't fathom the point of all this. They still hadn't been asked any questions. And, he had yet to come up with a plan for escape. Periodically, he felt as if there were no hope. Then, he would glance at Leia and muster the resolve to get her to safety.

His eyes found her now as she paced anxiously back and forth in the space of the tiny cell. Most of their strength had returned once the torture had ceased and now it was difficult to remain in one place and do nothing. Sitting against the wall, watching Leia, he forced himself to relax and focus on escape.

The problem was, he saw no viable opportunities in their future.

"Will ya sit down already? You're making me more stir crazy than I already am."

She turned to him, crossed her arms, and gave him a stern look. "It's hard to sit and do nothing."

"Well," he drawled. "Unless you're going to wear a hole in the floor for us to escape through, that's not doin' us any good."

Her glare was half-hearted and she sat on the floor across from him, silent and somber. Han wondered if it was day or night cycle on this abomination. There was no way of knowing.

He took off his vest, bundled it up, and laid back on the floor with it beneath his head in the position he had become accustomed to sleeping in. Folding his hands across his chest, he extended the usual invitation.

"You tired?"

She was quiet for a moment then abruptly slid on her bottom across the floor, laid on her side, and rested her head against his chest. Although they had settled into this sleeping pattern, she never approached to lie beside him without an explicit invitation. Han wasn't sure what to make of that.

"What's the first thing you're gonna do when we get outta this place?" he asked lightly.

"Blow it up."

He let out a sharp bark of laughter. "Besides that. That takes time and planning. Seriously, what's the first thing you wanna do?"

He could almost feel the wheels turning in her head while she thought about it. "Take a shower." Her head swiveled against his chest and she was gazing up at him. "What about you?"

He didn't hesitate. "Have a decent meal."

"That does sound good."

"Yeah. Roba steak with mounder potato rice. And a Corellian ale, of course."

"Of course." He could hear the smile in her voice.

"What's your favorite food? If you could have anything right now, what would it be?"

"Mmm, namana cream pie."

"Too sweet." He wrinkled his nose.

"Mmm, it's delicious."

They lay in comfortable silence for a time, and Han thought about the conversations such as these that they had shared over the past number of days. Captivity seemed to have brought them closer, allowing them to discuss things that had never come up before. Surprisingly, they hadn't argued at all. Even when she questioned him about his past, he managed to deflect it without any ensuing hostility.

"Han?" Her voice was tentative. "Tell me something."

"Like what? A story?"

"No," she replied with a hint of amusement. She hesitated then seemed to muster her resolve. "Tell me how you feel about me."

A visceral reaction made him feel as if he had been punched in the gut. "Whadda you mean?" he asked thickly.

"I mean…" Her voice was barely audible and he had to lower his ear closer to her mouth to fully hear her. She sighed. "There have been…a lot of things that have transpired between us. And…if anything happens…I don't want things to end with so much left unsaid."

He tensed as more emotions ran through him than he could possibly identify. "What've you not said?" he asked stiffly, both afraid and excited for her response. He wanted to look at her but he didn't seem able to move his eyes.

"I asked you first," she said softly, lightly.

"Whadda you wanna hear?" Why was it so hard to breathe all of a sudden?

Her head bent back and now she was gazing up at him, but still he could not look her in the eye. "Whatever you want to tell me," she whispered.

He swallowed, uncertain. "You know why I volunteered for your missions?" This seemed like a safe starting point.

"Why?" Her soft breath breezed against his chin.

I care about you, he thought, unable to get the words out. "I didn't want you getting killed." The hammering sound of his heart seemed so loud, he wondered if she could hear it.

"Why?"

Her voice was so low, her mouth so close to his. He took a breath and floundered for a response. I care about you. Was it just that he cared? The question was more than he could contemplate in that moment. "You're important to the Alliance," he finally choked out.

"Just to the Alliance?" Was she smiling? "You must be more loyal to the cause than you let on," she chided. "Maybe…I'm important to someone else as well."

"Maybe," he allowed.

"There's nothing like imminent death to make one contemplate their priorities."

"We're not gonna die here," he reassured, glad for the distraction.

She was quiet for a moment. "But, if we did…I wouldn't want to have any regrets. Anything I wished that I had said."

Pressure off himself, he angled his head to look down at her. Her eyes were lowered, lips parted thoughtfully, a breath seemingly held, as if words were about to tumble forth and she were trying to prevent it.

"So, say it." His voice came out more quietly than intended and something in his chest constricted expectantly.

Her eyes rose quickly to his and lingered, staring intently. Dozens of emotions burst forth inside him at the look in her eyes. He wasn't certain what he felt but it was more than he wanted as the moment stretched out between them.

"Yeah, Princess?" he whispered, suddenly wanting very much to hear what she had to say.

The cell door abruptly slid open and, faster than one might blink, Han and Leia were sitting upright, ready for anything.

An Imperial Officer entered, door swishing shut behind him. His dark gray uniform sported the rank of Lieutenant Commander.

"Get up," he hissed in a low voice. His blaster remained holstered at his side, which Han found unusual.

They stood slowly and Han took Leia's hand protectively.

The Officer moved next to the door and took his blaster in hand. "I'm getting you out of here," he said with the lift of his brow.

"What?" Han asked incredulously.

His eyes went to Leia. "Princess, I'm Chrome Wave."

Leia gasped and Han felt her reflexive squeeze of his hand.

"What?" Han demanded again.

"Han, Chrome Wave contains a handful of Imperials that are funneling information to the Rebellion."

He felt his jaw drop in surprise as she turned back to the Imperial.

"You're going to compromise your cover," Leia warned.

He smiled, resignation in his eyes. "I'm going with you. I'm done with the Empire."

Han took a step closer to him. "What's the Empire's deal? Why have they been holding us? They never even interrogated us."

"They used you as a trap. For that pilot who blew up the first Death Star, Skywalker."

"Luke?" Leia sounded as shocked as Han felt.

"Yes," the officer answered. "Luke Skywalker. Somehow, he knew you were here. They stopped torturing you once he arrived."

"Luke is here?" Leia asked urgently.

"Yes, he's in the medbay, under sedation."

Han and Leia shared a quick look. "We have to take him with us," she demanded.

The Officer eyed her as if she had lost her mind. "It's too risky. We'll never make it away if we go after him. You need to get to safety."

"We're not leaving without Luke," Han growled in a low, menacing voice.

The Imperial looked back and forth between them then gave a frustrated sigh. "All right. We'll get Skywalker. But, it's a risk."

"That's okay," Han replied confidently. "Taking risks is what we're best at."