So sorry this update has taken so long. This is nice and long to make up for it :) Thank you for sticking with his story!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Lying in his bunk, Han was sullen, anxious, and highly aggravated. With the situation and with Leia. He had run back through the ice tunnels to get her after hearing her transport calling over the base-wide comm for her to board. She was far too stubborn for her own good and was going to get herself killed if she didn't evacuate soon. He could do nothing but go after her.

But, he hadn't expected things to work out this way. He had thought he'd drop her at her transport then hit the skies. Never had he imagined she would end up on the Falcon, and even worse, trapped in subspace. It couldn't get much worse.

Well, it could. It always could. Han had learned that a long time ago. But, this was pretty bad.

Having Leia onboard complicated things. Her unexpected presence strained their food supply and made him responsible for one life more than he would have liked. Worst of all, he was trapped with this woman he cared for—oh, how he hated that word: care—when she belonged to someone else.

And, as much as he wanted to, he couldn't stop himself from caring. The feelings had been there for too long. With that care came a galaxy of pain. The sight of her, the sound of her voice hurt. By now, he should have been far away from her, able to distance himself and numb the pain. But, she was right there, in the crew quarters, taunting him with her presence.

This trip was going to be endless. He had never been onboard for such a long period of time. Why did the hyperdrive have to fail now?

He needed some peace of mind and sleep seemed impossible. He sprung from the bunk and ambled to the cockpit.

To his surprise, when the door slid aside, Leia was sitting in his seat. Their eyes met and held.

"I'm sorry," she said with surprising timidity. Rising, she moved to the co-pilot seat.

A myriad of feelings burst in his chest. She was invading his sanctuary…was nothing sacred?

"Never mind." he grunted, turning away.

"No, don't go!" She stood quickly, reached out, and grabbed his hand.

Her touch was too warm on his skin. His own hand remained limp, clasped in hers.

"This is your space. I'll go."

He looked at her, body tensed. "Don't worry about it." He made a motion to leave again.

"Please don't," she pleaded softly, clutching his hand more tightly. "I couldn't sleep. And I know you find the stars soothing, peaceful. I thought I would try it, that it might help me sleep." Her gaze lowered shyly. "And…it makes me feel closer to you."

It was like being stabbed in the chest, as if he were seeping blood. He yanked his hand from hers. "Don't do that," he growled in a harsh whisper.

Embarrassed and contrite, she clasped her hands together, cheeks flushing. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I just…that's how I feel."

He was angry now and took a step closer to face her. "Don't. You don't get to tell me how you feel."

The color in her face darkened. "I'm sorry." She paused to look at him. "I'll just go."

Han stepped aside and allowed her to pass. When the door shut behind her, he dropped into his seat and ran a hand past his face.

Why was she doing this to him? She didn't want him, had chosen another man. Now, this?

She was going to drive him insane.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

For a short time, Leia had lain in her bunk, simply existing. When had she last been allowed such a luxury? It seemed her entire life had been one long obligation. She had always been on the go, even before the Rebellion. Now that she was with the Alliance, there were always things that needed to be done and she felt compelled to get as much accomplished as possible on a daily basis.

But today, the first full day of their journey to Bespin, there was no rush. She wanted to make a ration schedule, but she had all day. There would be little else for her.

Far too soon, she felt an irrational guilt and forced herself up. She spent longer in the shower than normal, yet felt a bit of remorse over that as well.

Once dressed, Leia made her way to the main hold, spotted Han and Chewie working on a panel in the bulkhead, and scooped up the datapad she had used the day before.

"Good morning," she called with pleasant reserve.

Chewie howled a congenial greeting but Han said nothing. He wore goggles and had a macrofuser trained on some part she couldn't possibly identify. She smiled and tried not to feel hurt.

"I'm going to get to work on that ration schedule," she told Chewbacca, since he was the only one to acknowledge her presence. She swept from the hold and went to the galley for some kaffe to brighten her. She alternated between sips of kaffe and taking note of the contents in the cooling unit. It kept her from dwelling on Han for more than several moments at a time.

She moved to a stool and went over the data in her pad. It took some time to organize a schedule, but soon she was dividing up food and rations by the number of days they would be in flight, leaving some room for unexpected circumstances. Han flitted through her mind periodically, and when she had finished, she could no longer shove him aside.

She should probably let go the fantasy of this trip being some sort of last chance for them. He was understandably angry. And hurt. Maybe she should just focus on them getting along.

It was just so hard, having him so near. Every time she saw him, her senses grew so acute, the ache in her chest rising to a crescendo.

If only she could go back in time and undo the engagement. The thought was futile. And if she were able to go back in time, there was so much more she would change. If only that were possible. Her sigh was deep and troubled.

She had finally found some pocket of happiness, only to have it wrenched from her grasp. It seemed, in her adult life, that she could never have what she most wanted.

Han entered the galley with a glance that seemed to accuse and dismiss her at the same time. He went to the basin and filled a cup with water. As he swallowed, Leia spoke reluctantly.

"I finished the food ration schedule."

He placed the cup on the counter and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. For a moment he just looked at her.

"Guess that means you're in charge of meal preparation and distribution."

It took a moment for his words to sink in. "In charge of…? I don't know anything about preparing meals."

He downed the last of his water and replaced the cup. "You know how to use the holonet. You'll figure it out." He strode out of the galley without looking back.

Flabbergasted, Leia watched him go. She quickly became resigned. This was a challenge he was laying down before her. Well, she would show him.

For a moment, it felt like old times.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Perusing the inventory Leia had provided him with, Han was at first impressed with her thoroughness. Although, he would expect no less from her. As he scrolled through the list, his brow rose in surprise and he couldn't help the smile that nudged at the corners of his mouth.

Panel, .4 x .4 meters, four wires on back.

Long cylinder, sharp on one end, three grooves down middle.

Very descriptive, considering she had no idea what these items were. He supposed that, had they been on better terms, she might have asked him rather than resorting to providing a description.

His dark mood lifted slightly for the first time since the hyperdrive had failed. It was short-lived, as Threepio came clunking through the hold.

"Sir," he called in that annoying voice that somehow managed to sound both modest and pretentious at the same time. "What more may I do to be of assistance?"

"Shut down for the rest of the trip," Han grumbled.

His eyes brightened and his arms drew inwards, giving the impression of surprise. "I don't see how that would be of help, Sir."

"Of course, you don't." Han's lips pressed together in annoyance. He needed to find something to keep this droid out of his hair. "Go talk to the computer and find out what parts we'll need to repair the hyperdrive once we reach our destination. Be real thorough, down to every last bolt." Han already knew the answers to this question, but it would keep old Goldenrod busy. "And double check it when you're done. Actually, triple check it. And then report it to Chewie," he added with a wicked smile.

The droid's posture straightened, as if he were proud to be assigned this very important task. "Very well, Sir." His metal feet carried him into the corridor as Han shook his head and rolled his eyes.

This was going to be a long trip with little to pass the time. For once, he had all the time in the galaxy to concentrate on fixing and modifying everything he had ever wanted to.

Except the hyperdrive, he thought morosely. With a sigh, he put the datapad back on the table and went to check on Chewie's progress in the overhead compartment.

"Hey!" he called more harshly than intended.

The shaggy head popped out, upside-down eyes peering back at him.

"How's it going up there?"

The Wookiee barked back a satisfying update.

"All right," Han grunted back. "I'm gonna clean out the head gasket on the alluvial dampers. I want everything up to specs when we get to Bespin."

Chewie growled affirmation then disappeared. Han made his way to the galley for a second cup of kaffe to keep him going.

The sight of Leia at the counter placing several bowls aside jolted him for a moment. She looked up at his arrival.

"Hi," she said tentatively.

He just nodded back, went behind her, and easily grabbed a mug from over her head. He programmed the kaffe machine and remained facing it, keenly aware of Leia's presence behind him.

"Would you like some lunch?" she asked brightly.

Startled by the question, he spun to face her as the kaffe maker beeped. "What?"

"Lunch. Would you like some?" she asked more slowly, as if he were dense.

He simply stared for a moment at the proffered bowl in her hands. "Where did that come from?"

A crooked smile rose on one side of her mouth and, for a moment, she reminded him of himself. "I cooked it."

"You cooked it?" he asked dumbly.

"Yes. I used the holonet." Now, the smile had spread across her entire face. "You told me to." One brow rose.

His mouth dropped open and he suddenly recalled the taunt he had thrown at her. He hadn't expected her to take him seriously. She was still holding the bowl out to him so he took it in one hand. Examining the contents, he was able to recognize a large amount of potato mounder rice, which he always had in large supply. Combined were a small amount of meat and a few scattered vegetables. Something was sprinkled on top but he wasn't certain what. Some of his non-perishables had been sitting around for some time.

"Taste it," she urged.

He spared her a quick, hesitant glance before picking up the spoon sitting within the bowl. In truth, he was a bit apprehensive. Placing a small portion in his mouth, he brace himself.

He chewed thoughtfully, prepared for the worst. As it settled in his mouth, he was struck by the fact, first, that it wasn't awful. A bit bland, but it was edible enough. He swallowed and looked down at her.

"Not bad, Princess," he allowed.

Her smile was triumphant.

He realized he was hungry and sat at the counter to continue eating. Several moments later, his kaffe mug was placed before him with a quiet thunk.

"Thanks," he muttered into his bowl. From the corner of his eye, he saw her sit on the stool beside him. It occurred to him that it was the closest they had been to each other since the Hoth evacuation, and that it was the least hostile interaction they had shared.

"You're welcome." Her voice was quiet and serene. "I'm pleased you like the food."

"Well," he replied between bites, eyes anywhere but on her. "It's not going to win any awards. But, it's better than the slop served in the mess hall."

"I'll take that as an accomplishment." Her voice was smiling.

It unnerved Han that he was not feeling as furious as he had been. With this one gesture, she had managed to dull his anger. It hadn't disappeared, yet it was not nearly as potent as it had been. He looked straight at her finally. She was staring soberly at her hands, dressed so simply yet still so beautiful that it made him hurt.

"Not eating?" he asked mildly.

She shook her head and her fingers clicked together. "No. Not hungry." As he turned back to his bowl, one slim hand darted to take his. "Han…"

He raised his gaze to her and her eyes looked dark and enormous, as if they might swallow him whole. His eyes flitted to her hand holding his, familiar yet biting.

"I…I'm so sorry I hurt you. It was the last thing I wanted to do."

The words wrenched his heart. There was a desperation in her tone that he couldn't understand. What did she want from him? Forgiveness? Understanding?

He lowered his eyes to the bowl and disengaged his hand from hers. He couldn't fathom a response. Finally, he allowed a slight nod as his throat tightened. His appetite abruptly disappeared.

This was too difficult. With his anger dissipating, she was tearing him up inside, shredding him raw. He couldn't be around her right now. He stood, a sudden constriction in his chest. "Thanks for lunch." The bantha sitting on his chest made his voice a breathy growl. He fled the room without looking back.

Down the corridor, into the refresher, he leaned back against the door and squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn't going to be able to get through this long journey. Not with Leia looking at him like that. He needed to harden his heart and stay away from her. Not so easy on a ship of this size.

Before Leia, Han hadn't even known he could be hurt. All his adult life he had been exceptionally good at letting things just roll over him. If no one mattered, then how could they hurt you?

He never should've let her matter. Now, how could he get her to stop mattering?

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Carrying a length of cable, Han stormed through the corridors of his ship, intent and aggravated. It seemed to be his permanent state of being these days.

He rounded a bend in the corridor and came to a dead halt. Leia did not look up from where she stood, a scouring pad in one hand, scrubbing at the dirt and grime on the bulkhead. Han blinked and glanced down at the bottle of cleaning fluid at her feet.

"What are you doing?" he asked pointedly.

Her glance dashed to him for just a moment. "Cleaning."

"Who told you to do that?"

She stopped and turned towards him, pad in hand. "No one. I took it upon myself."

He couldn't say why, but the action annoyed him. "Why would you do that?"

Her lips stiffened, as if just noting his irritation. "For one, I can't stand having nothing to do. And you won't give me anything to keep me busy. And two, this ship is filthy." She gestured beside the area she had already cleaned.

Next to the bright, off-white patch was a huge smudge of grime. Han didn't notice it much these days, but now that Leia had pointed it out, the contrast was quite startling. He just stood, staring, trying to gather more words of criticism.

"What's wrong?" When he looked at her, she had arched one brow at him. "Afraid your ship will fall apart without the dirt and dust holding it together?"

He scowled in return. "Just make sure you don't mess with anything important."

"Yes, Captain." Her voice filled with mock seriousness, but her mouth quirked up to a small smile of amusement.

He clomped past her and continued to the engineering bay, feelings in an uproar. After three years, Leia still continued to surprise him.

His thoughts wandered back to the Death Star. As tough and tenacious as Leia had been, he would never have thought he would see the day that she stood with a pad and scrubbed the Falcon's interior clean. She was a princess. Hadn't she always had servants for that sort of thing?

And she was doing quite a thorough job.

Inside the engineering bay, Han set about replacing the linear pulse cable. It had been fraying for some time and he finally had the time to work on it.

Unfortunately, it was mindless work that allowed him to dwell on the woman whose presence continued to torment him. Was this really only day three of this endless trip? It felt as if they had already been stuck together on this malfunctioning bucket for months.

The cable took longer than expected and by the time Han was finished, his mood was even darker than before. He realized, unexpectedly, that his difficulties had taken his mind off Leia and that made him feel a bit better.

Bundling up the old, tattered cable, he carried it through the main hold. Upon entering, he halted at the sight of Leia placing several plates on the game table.

"What're you doing?"

She smiled at him. "I thought it might be nice for us to all eat dinner together."

Han's lips stiffened together. What was he supposed to say to that? Sorry, Your Worship, I'm trying to avoid you. He nodded and strode past her.

After dropping the cable in the rear cargo hold, he stopped at his cabin and changed out of his work clothes. He shrugged into a fresh white shirt and put on his brown pants with the yellow Bloodstripes. Gods, how much his life had changed since earning those.

After a quick wash-up in the refresher, he ambled back to the hold and found Leia and Chewie at the table waiting for him. Uneasiness took hold as he observed the three ales on the table, one beside each bowl.

Chewbacca sat to the far left, leaving Han no choice but to sit next to Leia. With an internal sigh, he took his place beside her.

Chewie barked and growled that it was nice of the little Princess to cook for them.

With a non-committal grunt, Han wondered why the damned furball was always on her side. He took a swig of ale as the Wookiee dug into his meal. He gave Leia a pleased yelp. Han appraised the food before him.

More mounder potato rice lie beneath a sauce with a smattering of pinzer beans and root vegetables.

"What's wrong?" Leia asked.

Han's gaze was drawn to her immediately. Had he been frowning? "Nothing," he said tersely. "Looks good." He plucked his spoon from the table and shoveled some of the food in his mouth. It was good enough. "Nice job." He tried to smile but was aware that it came off as insincere.

He ate in grumpy silence, highly aware of the chatter between Chewie and Leia.

"Have you been to Bespin before?"

An affirmative bark.

"What should I expect?"

Chewbacca went on at length to describe the luxury and the dusky, cloud-filled views of Cloud City.

"Don't forget all the gambling," Han muttered in a bored voice.

"Have you gambled there?"

"Of course." He downed the last of his ale and quickly went to the galley for another. When he returned, he found Leia looking at him, brow raised in surprise.

"What?" he asked brusquely.

"You won the Falcon in a sabaac game?"

He shot Chewie a withering glare. Him and his big mouth. If he had wanted to talk about it, he would have.

"Yeah," he replied, voice gruff. He returned to his meal.

"High stakes," she observed.

Han said nothing as he returned to his meal.

Chewie revealed a bit more of the incident.

"Lando?" Leia asked. "The same Lando we're asking for help?"

Han dropped his fork in his bowl with a clatter. "Yeah, the same Lando." He aimed a disgruntled gaze at Chewie. "Don't you have any of your own business to talk about?"

With a roll of his big, blue eyes, Chewie grumbled under his breath, stood with his empty ale bottle, and left the room in a few long strides. He returned shortly with three full bottles and handed one to Leia before gulping another in a few swallows. He opened the third, took a quick sip, and returned to his meal.

Leia's voice was low and sullen beside him. "I don't understand what the big deal is. You guard your past like it' s hoarded credits."

He ignored her but she continued.

"So, you won your ship in a card game. Why such a secret?"

He threw her a brief glance. She sat back with her arms crossed, frowning.

"What's the big deal to you?" he sneered. "Why so hot to know?"

She turned her glare on him. "Because. I've known you for three years and I still know almost nothing about you. And you know almost everything about me."

Incensed, he stood, hands on hips. "Well, it all ends here. At three years. Cause in a few weeks, I'll be gone." He paused, features hardening. "And soon you'll be a married woman." He stalked from the hold, stiff with resentment.

Stopping at the galley, he swiped a bottle of whiskey and a glass before heading to his cabin. After pouring himself a hearty portion, he placed the bottle on the floor by his bunk and sat down for a long swallow. Satisfied with the warm burn in his chest, he sat back against the wall behind the bunk and thought about what had just happened.

He had always closely guarded his past. It had always been about self-preservation. Where he had been didn't matter. There was no reason to look back and it was no one's business but his own.

Truly examining it for the first time, he recognized that it was a way to keep others at a distance. He'd never contemplated it before. It was simply his state of being. Now, Leia had dragged it out into the light.

If there was anyone he wanted to keep at a distance right now, it was her. He had let her far too close before. It was a mistake he wouldn't repeat.

A tentative knock sounded at the door. Dread flushed through him and a deep sigh expelled from his lips. "Yeah!" When the door slid aside, the flush deepened at the sight of her. Han just glowered.

"Can I come in?" she asked softly.

He grimaced. "I'm not gonna stop you."

Looking a tad relieved, she entered and sat in the chair at his desk. He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled down at his feet.

"Han, I know you're angry and resentful. And I deserve those feelings, I know I do. You have no idea how sorry I am. I never wanted to hurt you."

At her pause, his gaze flickered to her. Her expression was drawn and she was staring hard at the floor.

"I'm sorry, Han. I'm so sorry," she whispered miserably, tears filling her eyes.

His throat abruptly narrowed and he closed his eyes against the torrent of emotion. It was weakening him, softening his heart. His anger seemed to be dissolving. He wanted to cling to it, to remain unaffected. He tried to gather the outrage in his chest, but it was sluggish and frail.

Her sorrowful gaze returned to his. "This hurts me too. It hurts so much because I…" Her voice cracked and she broke off, averting her eyes.

Something in her tone sounded so promising to him. Was she going to say what he thought she might say? "You what?" he asked carefully.

Her eyes closed and she shook her head vigorously.

"You what, Leia?"

With a deep breath, she seemed to pull herself together. One finger swiped at the lone tear just beneath her lashes. "Nothing. It's all so upsetting. And there's nothing I can say to make it better."

Say you're not marrying him. But, he kept silent. Her unfinished sentence still hung over his head, a desperate, dismal cloud.

They sat separately, staring at nothing. At a loss, Han finally grabbed the bottle from the floor and raised it, along with his glass.

"Whiskey?"

She simply stared at the bottle for the longest time, confusion swirling in her eyes. Then, she abruptly stood, crossed the small space, and took the bottle from him. Han held the glass out to her but she surprised him when she pulled off the cap, tipped the bottle to her lips, and drank several long swallows.

He watched, dumbfounded. As she lowered the bottle, her eyes squinted shut, her lips twisted, and she shuddered violently. Han's mouth skewed to one side as he tried not to grin. He took the bottle from her hand.

"That was disgusting," she sputtered.

"I didn't tell you to swig it from the bottle," he smirked. For just a moment, everything seemed okay.

She handed him the cap and wiped a hand across her mouth with a look of disgust.

Han suppressed a chuckle. "You all right?" He closed the whiskey and replaced it on the floor, along with his glass.

She blinked a few times. "I don't know."

Looking at her more closely, he saw that her eyes looked slightly glazed. "You downed a lot of whiskey."

She seemed to sway on her feet a bit and Han stood. Leia grabbed onto his arm.

"You ever had whiskey before?"

She shook her head then frowned.

"All right. Let's get you to bed." He steered her carefully through the door as she continued to clutch his arm.

"I feel woozy," she said in a thick voice.

"Yeah, I'm not surprised." Her steps were a bit too careful. "You might wanna stick to wine or ale from now on."

She stopped walking and her expression was petulant. "You gave me the whiskey."

Forced to stop alongside her, he regarded her patiently. "You didn't have to drink it."

Her brow wrinkled in confusion. Han took that moment to get her walking again. Inside the crew quarters, he guided her to the bunk and she sat down heavily. A small giggle escaped her.

"What's so funny?"

"I don't know." A silly smile spread across her features.

Somewhat amused, Han shook his head back and forth and lowered himself to one knee. He slid a boot from her foot and tossed it aside. Before he could grasp the other boot, Leia's fingers brushed gingerly against his cheek. Reflexively, he met her eyes.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes soft and sorrowful. "Han," she whispered softly. "I wish…"

Poignant emotion swept through him. He couldn't deny the regret in her eyes and it sparked his own. He let out a slow, deep breath. "I know, Sweetheart. I know," he said quietly, heart thudding in his chest. Her fingers remained lightly at his cheek and he couldn't bear it another moment. He pulled back to remove her other boot, forcing her to drop her hand.

Placing the second boot on the floor, he stood and appraised her. Her head remained lowered.

"Lie down," he instructed tersely.

With surprising obedience, she laid her head against the pillow. Han pulled at the blanket beneath her and she scooted aside so he could pull it over her.

"You've always taken care of me," she whispered, eyes intently on him.

"You're drunk," he replied, trying hard to belay his impulse to lean over and kiss her.

She smiled brightly. "I am."

He couldn't help but smile back. "Get some sleep." Starting towards the door, he halted when she called his name. He turned back.

"Thank you." Her voice was quiet and sincere.

"For what?"

"Everything."

Abashed, he just nodded and slipped through the doorway. He stepped away from the door and leaned back against the bulkhead with closed eyes.

How did Leia always manage to disarm him? The anger was gone, replaced now with sadness and longing.

Maybe he could just drown himself in whiskey for the rest of the trip.