More Han and Leia love coming up...

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Leia sat at her desk, contemplating. This mission would be risky. She would need a fast ship and a skilled pilot. Han Solo only made sense.

With a sigh, she continued to war with herself. He made a little too much sense. After avoiding him for several weeks, would it really be best to put herself in such close quarters with him? His ship was almost completely repaired, after she had approved several trips to acquire the correct materials. She had signed off on them with a bittersweet flair. Now, by the time her mission came, the Falcon would be back in perfect condition. Well, as perfect as the Falcon could ever be.

She knew that if she asked him to take on one last mission before he left that he would agree. Especially after the funding she had allotted him to fix his ship. But, at the same time, she knew that if they were alone together they would end up in his bunk. And she really should put a stop to this.

But, what other options did she have? The Millennium Falcon was the fastest, least identifiable ship. And Han was the best pilot…although, she would never, ever tell him that.

Disgusted with herself, she sent a message to Han, requesting he accompany her on the mission. She paused before hitting send, lips pinched together, a silent breath held. With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, she sent the message.

It was done, decision made. For better or worse.

###

Han was feeling better than he had in some time. The Falcon was back in shape and ready to hit the skies, he could leave the Rebellion whenever he chose, and he was about to venture on a mission with the Princess.

He had barely seen her since immediately after the battle that had wounded his precious freighter. Clearly, she had been avoiding him. He tried to shrug it off as being for the best, but in truth, it bothered him, no matter how much he tried to exile her from his thoughts.

Then, the message. He had made her sweat by waiting a while before replying that, yes, he would accept the mission. How could he possibly refuse? He had spent far too many nights thinking about her, twisting and turning between the sheets in frustration and cupidity.

He was both excited and annoyed with himself for being excited. It seemed that he couldn't slake this lust for her. He couldn't fathom what to do about it other than give into it. Clearly, she felt it too. Maybe after one or two more times, he might be able to purge her from his system and move on. This time, he wouldn't even pretend to himself that he didn't plan to take her to bed. It was the main reason he had accepted the mission.

He heard movement coming down the corridor, turned expectantly, but it was just Chewbacca, barking a quick question.

"Just waiting on the Princess," Han replied, forcing an impassive mask.

Chewie chuckled in response.

"What's so funny?"

He growled that Han wasn't fooling him.

"Fooling you about what?"

His lengthy response raised Han's defenses.

"What're you talking about? We're still leaving. I took this mission because Her Highnessness got us the materials we needed to fix the Falcon. Figured I'd repay her good deed."

In the doorway to the cockpit, Chewie turned suddenly and from behind him, the Princess appeared, brow aloft.

"And the Alliance thanks you for that," she said in a quiet tone before sliding past Chewie and taking a seat in the navigator's chair.

Han wasn't quite sure how to respond, but when he glanced at his Co-pilot, he saw he was grinning from ear to ear. It brought a scowl to his features.

"Good morning," Leia said in belated greeting.

Han grunted recognition and Chewie hooted in return.

"Power 'er up, Chewie," Han ordered.

The engines hummed to life with the sound that always brought well-being to Han's soul. He never felt quite right when the Falcon wasn't running up to specs. He hit the comm and spoke automatically.

"Home One, this is the Falcon, preparing for take-off."

A burst of static then the reply resounded through the cockpit. "Falcon, you are cleared for take-off."

He adjusted a few controls, set the piloting to manual then guided the ship from Home One's hangar. It felt great to be flying again and a lightness of being came over him, that familiar thrill of being amidst the stars. In that moment, nothing else mattered.

Once they were far enough from the larger ship, Han began setting the coordinates for the hyperspace jump. Chewie made the preparations on his end, and soon, Han was yanking back the lever to send them into lightspeed.

He turned to face the Princess. "So, tell me more about why we're going to Wasichi."

"There are rumors of Alderaanian refugees hiding from the Empire," she answered stoically.

He appraised her for a moment, noticing the tightness around her eyes, the subtle stiffness in her posture. This was clearly important to her. "The Empire's looking for them?"

She nodded. "They've rounded up any remaining survivors they could locate and placed them in refugee camps on Serreno."

"Serreno?" He frowned.

"Yes. They've set up an internment camp on the plains."

"So, we're lookin' to find these refugees."

"Before the Empire does."

Chewie growled low in his throat about the atrocities committed by the Imperials.

Leia turned to him, eyes on fire. "They will never stop. Not until we stop them."

Han glanced away from the fiery gleam in her eyes. Why did he feel suddenly guilty that he didn't have the strong feelings she did? He thrust the thought aside and returned to look at her as Chewie grumbled a few words of sympathy.

"What does the Empire want with a bunch of refugees anyway?"

Her gaze slid back to him, no less inflamed. "I suppose all Alderaanians are assumed to be treasonous. At least, that is what they say." Her eyes hardened. "Because destroying Alderaan wasn't enough."

This was a topic she had never discussed in front of him. He was always careful to steer clear of her losses and she never brought them up. Even that night, when he had surprised her for Founding Day, she hadn't spoken of her home planet. He had never seen her grieve, couldn't even imagine her breaking down behind that icy façade. But in her anger and outrage, he could see that she was hurting. She just didn't let anyone know it.

"So, where will be looking for these refugees?" he asked, ignoring his observations.

"They're said to be in the mountains." Her expression was no less impassioned.

"Well, that's real specific," he muttered.

Chewbacca barked a question and her head turned in his direction.

"I have coordinates for a village."

"Don't they stand out with the Wasichi?" Although humanoid, the Wasichi people tended to be of a larger frame, with varying shades of brownish-red skin.

"They must. But, who would think to look for them there? The Wasichi live a much more basic life. I certainly wouldn't expect to find Alderaanians there."

HehewieBBBMMMM shrugged, uncertain what else to say. He checked the readouts before him to distract himself from the situation. After several minutes of silence, he heard Leia vacate her seat and flee the cockpit.

Han turned to stare after her, wondering if he should follow. When Chewie spewed an amused arf of laughter, his head shot in the Wookiee's direction. Realizing he had been caught longing for the Princess, he grimaced.

"Shut up," he muttered, only causing Chewie to guffaw harder. Han sprung from his seat and stomper into the corridor.

###

Leia couldn't fool herself this time. She was well aware of her motive for venturing to the Falcon's galley late during night cycle. The fact that she had taken down her hair and wore only her nightgown were far from incidental.

Was Han awake? Would he be hoping to run into her as well?

She had hoped to have the willpower to stay away from him. But, she had been kidding herself. The moment she saw him in the cockpit, she knew she was doomed.

Discussing the mission had been a keen distraction, but it hadn't lasted long. Using Han as diversion from her pain had become all too common.

Standing at the counter, she took care in choosing a cup, wanting to draw the process out as long as possible, in the hopes that he would appear. She filled the cup with cool water and placed it in front of her. Waiting.

She didn't know how, but somehow she just knew Han would find her there. Intuition perhaps…it was inexplicable. It would surprise her if he didn't show up. Was this what fate felt like?

Quite a few times in her life, Leia had felt this odd foresight, this telling feeling about what someone would or wouldn't do. It had helped her greatly in matters of diplomacy. It had been less common in her personal life, but this time, it was like a beacon, a bright, hot light drawing Han towards her.

And then she heard him in the doorway, instinctively knowing that it was not Chewbacca. A smile brushed her lips and her heart sped up in expectation of what was about to happen. She froze and neither spoke for a long moment.

"You're up late." His deep voice boomed into the silence and the tiny hairs at the back of her neck stood on end.

Anticipation rattled her nerves and when she finally found her voice, it came out low. "I was thirsty." She remained facing the counter, aware of how pointless her response sounded. Did he know what game she was playing? Could he also feel it in the air between them?

"Did you have another nightmare?" He was right behind her now, although she hadn't heard his approach.

"No," she answered in a quavering voice. "I haven't slept."

His warm hands landed lightly, tentatively on her shoulders and she froze as her eyes fell shut. Yes, she thought desperately. He began to knead her shoulders and everything became surreal. Her head tipped back and it felt suddenly as if she were amidst the clouds and gravity had ceased to exist.

And then his mouth was on her neck, open and hot, and her awareness of the galaxy around them dimmed, becoming faint and fluid. Her body suffused with heat as his lips and tongue slid across the skin of her throat with aching slowness. She moaned and her head leaned back against his chest. His tongue flicked to her ear and when he took the lobe between his teeth, she whimpered, urging a low groan from Han. She felt it vibrate through her.

His hands slipped down to her waist and travelled up to cup her breasts. Leia was lost to the heat of his mouth and hands as they teased and tortured her, fingers gently pinching her nipples through the fabric of her gown. This, she thought before her mind became incoherent.

One hand slid languidly down her abdomen, fingers brushing inside the band of her panties, making her gasp. Back and forth, he teased with painstaking slowness, almost giving her what she wanted, then shying away at the last moment. It left her weak and breathless, desire pounding through every nerve in her body.

His mouth was at her ear, breath hot and tingling. "Is this what you want, Princess?" he growled.

She only breathed in response, too absorbed by his touch.

"Is it?" he demanded, licking the sensitive spot behind her ear. "Tell me yes or I'm gonna stop."

She moaned at the thought. "Yes," she breathed.

"It's what I want too," he whispered harshly before his finger flowed downwards and slipped delicately into her wet folds. "Gods," he gasped as Leia's moan seemed to fill the galley. His finger stroked, down, up, back again, bringing a sharp cry to her lips with each motion. His other hand snaked back to her breast, squeezing her nipple between his fingers.

With a loud grunt, he jolted his hardness against her buttocks, still manipulating her with swift movements. He groaned with each undulation against her, and Leia felt his presence surrounding her in the most delicious way. The rapture was rising, building inside her and she wanted it so desperately.

And then he moved quickly, spinning her to face him, bare chest all she saw for a moment before he yanked the gown over her head, took her in his arms, and lowered her to the deck. For a whisper of a breath, she wondered if it was such a good idea to remain there, but then he was on top of her, mouth demanding the submission of hers.

His teeth nipped at her lips and Leia was surprised at how delightful it felt. He skimmed down her throat, collarbone, across each shoulder, tongue caressing with intent thoroughness. Down the swell of her breast, he lapped at her nipples, pausing to gently suck before moving ever lower. When his mouth was at her pubic bone, she realized his intent. Her body tensed.

"Don't worry," Han whispered against her skin. "You'll like it." His tongue drifted lower.

The first feathery brush of his tongue sent her body rigid with shock. The second stroke melted all her limbs and sent a shuddering moan through her. Then nothing else existed but the blissful, aweing sensations that brought an arch to her back and loud whimpers to her lips.

"Told you you'd like it," he murmured against her heat.

"Stop talking," she commanded in a desperate voice.

He laughed and she felt his breath against her, so overwhelmingly intimate. Then his tongue returned to tease her and again, there was nothing else.

Enraptured, she groaned, grunted, and gasped as his mouth drifted, bringing sensations she could never have imagined. When his tongue found her most sensitive spot, she inhaled sharply, crying out at the jarring thrill of Han's relentless tongue. It was euphoria, her body soaring through the streaming stars of hyperspace on a journey that seemed never ending. She clasped his head in her hands, uncertain whether she was pulling him closer or pushing him away.

And then it hit her, that wave of frenzied exhilaration that shook her body, harder and more fervently than ever before. She tensed, quaked, and succumbed to the shudders that overtook her, depleting her utterly. She screamed throughout, throat becoming raw as the release rocked her until she felt she could no longer take it, was trembling and enervated.

Her thoughts remained incoherent as Han rose up, crushed his dripping mouth to hers, and pounded inside her. She couldn't move but his thrusts within her were frantic, desperate, almost violent. She was spent but found his rough, battering movements somehow comforting, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, urging him deeper, wanting his ecstasy to be as intense as hers.

That moment, his body rigid and strained, his guttural howl filling her ears, pouring into the center of her…everything seemed to stop as his spasms brought the galaxy to a staggering halt.

She felt his delightful shudders inside her, as if they were hers, and she clasped her legs tightly around him in the aftermath of the storm.

Afterwards, Han said nothing and Leia was grateful.

###

Han didn't know what he felt. He only knew it was too much. Somehow, Leia had managed to gracefully excuse herself without saying much of anything. In her wake, he felt equal parts confusion and disquiet.

Lying in his bunk, he found himself wishing she were there. To what end, he didn't know. He wanted to go to sleep, his body was beyond exhausted. But, his mind was like a revolving, 3D, zero-g puzzle.

What had he gotten himself into? This hold the Princess had on him…it was consuming him. Before, he had been able to blame it on pure lust. But now, something had subtly shifted and Han suspected there was more it to than simple physical craving.

When had it happened? He sighed and closed his eyes. Had it been there all along? Or was it a seed that had been planted along the way, growing and mutating into a deeper hunger. He wanted more.

Having never experienced such feelings before, he wasn't certain what 'more' entailed. Yes, he wanted her body…over and over again. But, after satiating himself of this desire for the night, he found himself longing to hold her in his arms. The emotions that this thought stirred in him were far from sexual. And that was the most unnerving thing about it.

But, what could possibly come of it? They were polar opposites in every way. She was married to the Rebellion, while he valued his freedom above all. He didn't want to stay with the Alliance, and couldn't even if he did want to. He still had that debt hanging heavily over his head, a crane readying to pluck him into danger at any moment. In truth, he should have repaid it immediately after Yavin and was placing himself at greater risk every day that he did not.

A sharp pang hit him square in the chest at the thought of leaving, bringing a bitter taste to his mouth. He grimaced and sighed through his nose. The pang became an ache that he was unable to banish.

It was pointless to even think about this. Sure, she was happy to fall into bed with him and surrender her body to his touch. Many women had, but that didn't make it any more than just that.

A smile tugged at one corner of his lips as he recalled his assumption of her virginity. How wrong he had been. And beneath that pure, proper façade was an inferno of passion, just as he had expected. A woman's reaction to his touch had never affected him to such a degree before. Every moan, every gasp made him want to please her more.

This was just insane. It made no sense. He shrugged to himself and rolled on his side, intent on defeating the thoughts battering at his mind.

They buzzed anyway, swirling, leaving him awake and utterly frustrated.