Han rapped on her cabin door.
Leia glanced at her chrono. He was exactly on time.
She'd been sitting on her bunk waiting because there wasn't much she needed to do to get ready; she didn't have any clothes to change into. All she could do was change her hairstyle. Han, evidently, had gotten creative.
He stood on the other side of the doorway. He had tended to his hair, too: combed it. He grinned stupidly at her and presented her with his creation.
It was made from electrical tape, strips of blue and black formed into loops, the sticky ends pressed together. At the center was a wad of tape he'd crumpled into a sphere.
He had fashioned a flower. "Made you a corsage," he mumbled.
The petals of his tape flower were several inches long. Leia tested the open parts and saw he had covered the adhesive with something so they lost their stickiness.
"How clever!" Leia said with a smile. She reached to take it from him. "It's lovely."
"No, it ain't." He was actually blushing. "Tacky as shit."
"It's not tacky." Leia showed how her finger didn't stick to the inside of the loop. "Not tacky at all. See?"
He enjoyed her joke a little bit. "Here, you put it on like this." He showed her the center of his flower's back, which had an extra piece of tape, sticky side out. "May I?" and he pressed it below her shoulder, into her shirt.
He stood back, hands out, expecting the heavy bunch of tape to fall, but it stuck to her shirt, which was actually Han's shirt.
"Look at that," Leia said. It dominated her chest and must look outrageous, but she enjoyed it. She waited for his next move; this was his idea, even though right now he looked like he either regretted it or was going to throw up.
But he extended his elbow. "Our chariot awaits," he said.
She took his elbow and they ambled together out into the corridor. It was too narrow to walk side by side, so she loosened her grip and fell behind a step, her hand still touching his sleeve.
Chewie was waiting for them in the lounge. He had a work rag folded over his forearm and bowed to them. He indicated Leia should slide into the bench.
She sat before one of the two plates on the table, each covered with a cloth. Two disposable cups were half-full with wine. A welding torch stood in a mug, pointing its small flame at Leia. It made a small roaring noise, and smelled of butane.
"Han, Chewie," she beamed. "This is-" It was the most ridiculous and endearing thing she'd perhaps ever seen.
Chewie held up a furry arm asking for her silence. Han was in the booth across from her. With an elegant flourish, Chewie whisked the rags off the plates to reveal ration bars still in their wrapper. The plate was garnished with little flakes of oats.
"Rags aren't the cleanest." Han had resorted to mumbling again.
"You and Chewie went to so much effort." Leia was impressed, she wouldn't deny it. And moved, really.
Chewie growled something at Han. It had only been a week, but the crash course in Shyriiwook immersion was taking effect. Leia understood Chewie told Han he'd be in the cockpit.
Both forgot Han had given up the role of captain for the night. "Right," he answered Chewie.
"Thank you, Chewie," Leia said.
She and Han were alone together in the lounge, the windy hiss of the soldering torch the only thing making noise.
They looked at each other. She felt young and wondered if she looked it. The shy embarrassment that covered his cheeks made him seem charmingly boyish.
"This is very nice," Leia said.
"Tryin'," he said, and his eyes left her face. "You said you liked nice."
"I do," she affirmed.
He nodded. "Aren't you hungry?"
She put her nose to the plate and sniffed. "It smells delicious," she joked.
One corner of his mouth showed a tiny smile. They set about unwrapping their ration bars. Leia usually finished one in six bites; she'd actually conducted the experiment three days ago, when she was fighting boredom. But this time she merely nibbled the corner. At this rate, she calculated, it might take twenty bites. Han also took a small bite.
"You seem a little nervous," she observed. She didn't want to tease, but she couldn't help it.
He waggled his brow once, showing he could take it. "Never dated a princess before."
"And I've never dated a smuggler."
"What about a scoundrel?"
She put on a serious air. "I think so. Ones with ulterior motives, unfortunately."
"What, to get you in bed?"
"Is that what this is?" she asked, brows up.
"No, no," Han hastened to say, dropping his ration bar, which hit the plate with a thunk. "No. We talked about that."
"We did," Leia agreed. "No, they were more interested in getting my crown."
"Oh. I wouldn't know about that," Han said.
Leia entwined her fingers and rested her chin on them. "Of course, once I realized that, all I had to do was put them in jail."
Had he witnessed this side of her? The sardonic Princess, tired of being treated as a title and a means of advancement. He had evidently, for he laughed, not at all nervously.
When had he gotten to know her, over the past three years, or the last week they spent cramped on a crippled ship?
She didn't know that out of his element he was almost shy. It was quite becoming on his usually guarded face and she was determined to make the most of it. "You must have dated a smuggler."
Han pursed his lips. "Mm," he thought. "No."
"No?" Leia waved a hand over the carefully set table. "You don't mix work with pleasure?"
"Well... let's just say I didn't date much."
"Oh." Leia sat back. "You knew about corsages."
He smiled and looked cute again. "It was a craft we did in school."
"They taught you how to date in school?" Leia purred.
"No," he was smiling. "When I was real young. It was to celebrate New Season. We made them out of stock flimsi and glue."
"What was New Season like?"
"It came after Dead Season."
"Dead Season," Leia laughed. "You Corellians are so descriptive."
"It's when everything dies!" Han explained. "And then when it grows again, it's New Season."
"You're such a pragmatic people."
He shrugged. "I don't know about that. But flowers symbolize New Season. The women wear a corsage when they go to Festival."
"I bet that was fun."
"I don't know about that either. I worked."
He might be nice, but his memories weren't. They flickered across his face like the shadows caused by the wavering flame of the soldering iron. In ten minutes she understood him more than she had in three years.
"I worked those, too," Leia offered. She only had one really awful memory, taken from her perspective of life, and she had to keep it because if she didn't it, then that meant she had to leave Han behind; Chewie and Luke too, and that negated a future. The past ten minutes were revelatory for her, too: she found she wanted a future.
It wasn't too hard to think about Alderaan. Sometimes it seemed like the loss overshadowed the fact it had once existed, and talking about it made it real again. "Ours was a harvest festival. Gods, how I dreaded them," she reminisced to Han. "Since I was four, I had to walk a parade. Do you know how hard it is for a four year old to stay in place for two miles?"
She got him to smile. "And then stand there and do things like award the nerf with the most points, or weigh the largest tuber and pin ribbons on coats. That was when I was older. Not that I disliked the mundane. A Princess was not allowed to complain. They used to say how I didn't smile much. I was jealous of it, is all. And my feet hurt."
"Yeah, jealous," he said. "Me, too. I worked the crowds. But instead of saying, "congratulations of the size of your tuber-" he made it sound dirty, drawled it with leering suggestion, and Leia laughed, "- I..." He hesitated, not wanting to ruin the moment.
"Go on," Leia encouraged. "I have an idea what you did."
"I picked pockets."
She nodded, and took it. That's what tonight was for. "When you were four?"
"No, four I had to stay in place too. Smudge my face with dirt, stand around barefoot and pretend to cry. Watch everyone pass by with their frocre cones."
She cocked her head at him, realizing something. "Is that why you insist on buying a frocre cone every time we land somewhere?"
He smiled. "Yeah. I treat myself. They don't ever taste as good as what I thought when I stood there salivating. But then," he shrugged, "Luke seemed to really like 'em too, so I kept the tradition."
She raised her wine cup and looked wryly into his eyes. "To the Alliance. For providing her uncover smugglers, Jedi, and spies with a new tradition. A frocre treat after each mission."
"To frocre." He touched her cup and they both drank some wine.
"Maybe you can get one when we arrive at Bespin," she said.
Han chuckled. "Maybe."
The chilled wine was starting to break down the moisture barrier of their cups. Leia touched Han's again. "To first dates," she said.
"To first dates," he echoed. "Shoulda done this sooner. I didn't know you could be so nice."
She laughed at his teasing. "I guess the circumstances of our meeting dictated how we reacted to each other. We were both under a lot of stress."
"I'll say. I'm never gonna admit the rescue plan- which was Luke's, don't forget- was poorly contrived."
"And I will admit it would have been the best feeling in the world, if I wasn't so-"
"I know," Han said.
Leia nodded her thanks that she didn't have to say it. "But experiencing freedom and then coming immediately into a dead end fire fight was a bit of a let down."
He bit into his ration bar, chewing on one side of his mouth, which made him look like he was smiling at her. "I will admit jumping into the garbage masher was probably the only solution."
"Thank you," she said smartly.
"Too bad we couldn't take the time to have a first date there."
She laughed loudly. "Set aside some garbage and take a seat in a quiet corner-"
"- look into each other's eyes while Luke splashes about with a dianaga."
"I might have kissed you at the end of it. Thanking you for a pleasant evening."
"Didn't you? On the cheek? Thank me for helping save the galaxy?"
"No," Leia said kindly.
"Musta been General Dodonna, then."
She laughed again. It came from deep inside her, a forgotten place. Maybe her muscles would be sore but she felt wider. Fuller.
"To us," she said. She raised her cup once more. It felt thin in parts, and the side walls were maybe starting to collapse. They'd have to finish their wine soon.
Leia used to think that would symbolize an end. Now she asked herself if they just couldn't get a new cup. "To us," she repeated, and drained her cup. "I'll probably kiss you on the cheek tonight."
"Just the cheek?" Han said after also emptying his cup. His eyes were merry at her.
Suddenly the tape flower's own weight became too much and it fell from Leia's shirt, dropping onto the table with a flop. She picked it up, testing the stickiness at the back. She pressed it to Han's chest, pushing hard to make it stick, and his hand covered hers, assisting her.
"Ah, you got me, Princess," he said upon noticing the tape mass was adhering to his shirt, at least for a moment. "Right where it hurts."
"Rescued a scoundrel with his own creation."
He leaned forward to kiss her. "Sounds about right," he murmured.