Thank you everyone for sticking with this story! :) You guys are the best! Hope you enjoy the next chapter :)

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She couldn't get enough of him. His hands, that devilish grin, the scent of him that was a mix of masculinity and something that almost smelled like being outdoors…he left her wanting more, a constant craving.

He looked up from where he was replacing his tools in the box and caught her open stare. A smirk seemed to threaten his lips as he tossed her a wink and returned to his task.

Leia's eyes never left him. Her heart felt so full, as if it might burst to overflowing with all the feelings battling to break free. It seemed too much to contain.

The future seemed so vague and inconsequential. It was so easy to pretend that right now was all there was, all there ever would be. That it was just the two of them, this ship, and nothing else mattered.

And Chewie, she thought with a tiny smile, hearing his heavy footsteps pass by in the corridor. She watched as Han glanced up cautiously, still on guard for some retaliation from the Wookiee.

Did Han love her in return? The depth of his stare, the gentleness of his touch, the intimacy of his embrace…to Leia, they communicated love. At moments, she almost thought she could feel the love emanating from him. But, surely, that had to be wishful thinking. It was impossible for her to feel what was inside someone's heart. There were some species that were empathic, but humans were not one of them.

She continued to follow him around and he almost seemed to expect it. What else was there for her to do besides bask in his presence?

Tool box hanging from one hand, he came to where she sat on top of a packing crate. With a lazy grin, he stood very close to her and she smiled back expectantly, craning her neck up towards him. Slowly, his head lowered and Leia tilted her lips to him, beckoning a kiss. Just as his lips descended and her mouth drew closer, a sudden jerk of his head pulled him back, just out of reach. Startled, a keen sense of disappointment surging through her, her brow rose in surprise as he smirked down at her, a teasing glint in his eyes. She realized he was taunting her and slapped him playfully on the chest with a mock glower.

"Come here," she insisted, grabbing him by the shirt collar and tugging him towards her.

"So demanding," he murmured in a thundering rumble that seemed to flow through her. Still smiling, he closed the distance between them and kissed her slowly, deeply. The air around them felt surreal and magical.

She reached for his hand and he pulled back suddenly.

` "I'm all greasy and sweaty." He held his grimy hand up as evidence. "Gonna hit the shower."

"Can I join you?" Her smile was promising.

He grinned that charming, crooked grin. "Now that's a question you never need to ask." With one last, quick kiss on her lips, he turned and carried the tool box to a corner of the hold and left it on the floor. Leia followed him through the corridor and into the refresher.

Immediately, he was tugging his clothes off and dropping them to the floor. Leia just watched him for a moment as he opened the shower door.

He looked at her, puzzled. "You coming?"

She nodded and began to disrobe. He grunted approval before stepping inside and turning on the water. When she stepped inside to join him in the narrow space, he was already scrubbing the grease from his hands and forearms. For a moment, she was reminded of her luxurious bath at home and all the expensive products she used for self-care. Han had a simple soap dispenser with standard, inexpensive soap and nothing else. Yet, she didn't want to be anywhere else, didn't need anything else.

She placed her hand under the soap dispenser and retrieved a generous amount, lathered them together and turned to Han. "Let me," she whispered, just loud enough to be heard over the running water.

He stopped rubbing his hands over his arms and gave her a questioning look. Leia placed her soapy hands on his shoulders and ran them in languid circles along his taut muscles. They glided down his upper arms then slid across his pectorals, slowly, lovingly. She felt a sudden surge of protectiveness for him. She wanted to hold him in her arms and take care of him, keep him safe and happy forever. Make him feel loved. She got the distinct impression that he had never known what it felt to be loved.

But, she couldn't express that aloud. So, she communicated it through her touch, her gentle fingers that caressed him and cleansed him.

Her hands travelled down his ribs, along his hips, to the masculine part between his thighs. She glanced up at him to find his expression dreamy with a furrowed brow. What might he be thinking? she wondered. Lowering to her knees, she began to soap his legs and felt him tense beneath her touch.

"Leia." His body and voice were both strained. "Stand up, you don't have to—"

She didn't allow him to finish. "I want to." He quieted but all his muscles remained rigid. She slid her hands down his hard calves, stroking suds across his feet. Her head tipped up to him and droplets of water sprinkled across her face. "Turn around."

"Leia—"

"Turn around," she implored firmly.

A loud sigh huffed from him but he did as told. She lathered the backs of his thighs, lingered at the curve of his buttocks, and slowly stood as her hands slid up his back.

"Bend your head back," she said softly. He complied, but she still had to raise on tip-toe in order to lather his hair. When she was finished, he lifted his head into the water and began to rinse out the soap as she used her hands to wash the suds from his skin. When he was free of soap, she began to wash her own body. He was still rinsing the soap from his hair and she turned her back to him.

Her movements were hasty and when he placed his hands on her shoulders and began to knead her muscles, it was difficult to concentrate. After a few moments, she gave up, allowed her head to loll back, and succumbed to the pleasure of Han's strong hands digging into the knots she hadn't realized had built up.

"That feels so good," she moaned. He made his way down her arms, further releasing her tension then repositioned his fingers to grind down her spine. "How did you get so good at that?" she whispered, drifting blissfully. "You're almost as good as my masseuse at home."

"Hmm, I'll have to practice then." His voice was deep, breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. His hands slithered around to cup her breasts and Leia moaned deep in her throat, head leaning back against his chest. The slickness of the soap added to the sensuality of his touch, intensifying the pleasure.

His fingers glided slowly around her curves, down her hips and thighs, rounding to her buttocks, then slipping between her thighs, finding her most sensitive bud and stroking mercilessly. Knees weak, breathing in gasps, her thoughts froze and she could only feel.

Blissful, it seemed to go on forever, until he began to rub more rhythmically, more vigorously. He drove her into a fervor and she reached behind her to grip his shoulders, unwittingly digging her nails into his skin as her body reached for that euphoric release, rising, rising, almost there…and then OH! She was convulsing into his hand, his arm around her waist holding her steady as her legs trembled and her loud cry rasped her throat.

As her body continued to tense and crash in the aftermath of her orgasm, he turned her around suddenly and lifted her until her back was against the hard shower wall. He pressed inside her urgently, growling with need. She was still so sensitive and it felt so good, her moan mixed with his. He was pounding violently inside her and before long, he cried out, low in his throat, thrusting deeply inside her and exploding in a hot rush.

Hands beneath her thighs, he kept her pressed to the wall for a time, breathing hard against her neck, his heart pounding with hers. Could she feel it or was she imagining it? He kissed her, tender and boundless, and Leia ran her hands along his shoulders. She felt something raised on his skin and broke the kiss to examine it.

Five tiny, red welts, bright and angry, were splayed across each tan shoulder and she realized with a jolt what she had done.

"Gods, you're bleeding," she exclaimed with soft shock.

He glanced down with a frown and lowered her to the floor of the narrow stall. He gave a slight laugh. "It's nothing."

It wasn't nothing to her. "I'm so sorry."

"Leia, really, it's no big deal." His grin was crooked. "Minor injury in the line of battle." He winked.

She was not amused as she ran a thumb over one array of welts. He took her hand in his.

"C'mon, rinse off," he said dismissively.

Dubiously, she joined him under the spray of water then followed him out of the shower. As she was still toweling dry, he turned to the mirror and repeatedly ran a hand through his hair to slick it back. Abandoning her towel, she leaned a cheek against the warm, moist skin of his back and wrapped her arms around his waist. She was feeling oddly emotional for no reason she could define. He paused and placed his hands over her arms. She closed her eyes, too many emotions swirling through her.

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?" she asked quietly.

"My face," he quipped without missing a beat.

Ignoring his sarcasm, she peeked around him so that their eyes met in the reflection. That cynical raise of his brow revealed nothing.

"I mean," she began pointedly then softened her tone. "How do you see yourself?" That burning desire to know him, truly know him, never abated.

With a quick roll of his eyes, his mouth drew to one side. "I dunno what that even means."

She regarded him seriously for a moment. "Do you want to know what I see when I look at you?"

"Sure," he sighed.

Stepping from behind him, she stood next to him in front of the mirror, smiling briefly at the contrast in their heights. Rarely did she give thought to her short stature, but standing next to Han, she felt small and delicate.

Her voice was quiet and serious in the small space, her eyes holding tightly to his. "I see a man who has hidden his heart, refusing to care for anyone so that he couldn't be hurt. But, when you do care, you care so deeply. And then you can't hide your heart because it's too big." She voiced the suspicions she had held for quite some time, yet never been courageous enough to speak.

His eyes went wide for a moment, something vulnerable and emotional swirling there, mixed with surprise. It quickly turned to a frown and she could almost see the gears turning in his head as he floundered for a response.

"I've seen the real you, the you behind all that bluster," she continued. "I've seen it every time you came to my rescue." She hesitated, wrestling with feelings that struggled to erupt from her. He already knew, had already coaxed it out of her. "That's what I love about you," she said softly. "You have so many layers and the deeper I look, the more beautiful you become."

He was staring at her in the mirror, brow lowered, eyes shocked and sober. The moment drew out and Leia took his arm and kissed him gently on the bicep, never letting her gaze falter from his.

Abruptly, the softness she saw there froze, grew steely and frigid. "You don't know me." His voice was hard and low, taking Leia by surprise. He shrugged his arm from her light grip and slipped from the refresher.

She watched him go, eyes remaining on the door even after it whispered shut. Disheartened, she cursed herself for pushing him too far.

OOOOOOOOOO

The lights on the Falcon's console cast a soft glow in the cockpit as Han watched the stars skidding past them, emotions whipping through him with equal speed. He had secreted himself away, needing some time to contemplate things with Leia. She had thrown him for a serious loop with her unexpected observations of him.

That's what I love about you.

Her words returned to haunt him. Having wrenched the confession from her just days ago, he had come to terms with what they were to share in the next few weeks. But he couldn't bring himself to explore things further, when he knew what was in store for them. He wanted no declarations, no deep conversations. These were things he never allowed, and with the way things were, that would be no different now. He was resigned to enjoying the last of their time together. He did not wish to complicate it. It was complicated enough already.

He leaned back and put his feet up on the console, one on top of the other, then folded his hands across his stomach.

He was trying so hard not to think past this trip, to simply live in the moment. He had always been so good at that. But, the more comfortable he became with Leia, the slightest bit that he allowed his guard to further lower, he began to feel open and vulnerable, something he detested and avoided at all costs. Yet, he couldn't seem to stop it.

Surely, she was hurt by his hasty departure from the refresher. In that moment, escape had been so urgent, nothing else had mattered.

His mind returned to the shower, Leia's small, delicate hands running over his body. Had anyone ever bathed him before? Perhaps when he was a small child, but he had no memory of it. It had touched him, somewhere deep down, the likes of which he hadn't known existed. Never before had he felt such a powerful tenderness run through him. He had felt humbled, overwhelmed, yet deeply uncomfortable. No one had ever shown him such care, such kindness, such…love?

Was that what love was? It was unsettling, to say the least. It had all come to a head when she dropped to her knees to scrub his legs and feet. It made him feel utterly unworthy of her attention. It was the strangest combination of pleasure and shame. And when she was finished, he had felt as if he needed to do something to reciprocate, so he had decided to give her a massage. The swell of emotion exploding inside him had moved him to passion and, in the aftermath, something inside him had felt weak and trembling. He'd tried to brush it off, to hide everything he was feeling, but when Leia started with all that serious talk, it had been too much.

Her insistence that she 'saw' him had been unnerving, had hit far too close to home. But he refused to think too much about it.

Behind him, the door swooshed open and Han felt his muscles immediately become rigid. Jaw clasped, he waited, uncertain what was to come. Soft hands landed on his shoulders. His heart skipped a quick beat just as lingering lips pressed to the top of his head. He swallowed past the sudden tension in his throat then reached up to cover one small hand with his. He felt both relieved and nervous.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into his hair before turning her cheek to rest on his head.

He hesitated a moment, unsure of what to say. "Nothin' to be sorry for," he finally replied gruffly.

"I upset you."

"I'm not upset." He kept his voice aloof.

"Could've fooled me." Sotto-voice, her words barely reached his ears. "You try so hard to hide yourself," she said quietly, removing her face from his head. "You just can't take it when someone sees through your façade."

He grimaced. Before Chewie, he'd never questioned himself. He'd learned at a fairly young age that he could trust no one but himself. He had been through enough to resolve to worry about no one, just take care of himself and to hell with anyone else. Anything that nagged at his conscience was quickly thrust aside.

Then there had been Chewie, stolidly at his side. Soon after, Luke and Leia. And it was Leia who had truly shattered his barriers, making him care against his will. And unable to hide his feelings.

He took a deep breath. "Leia…"

"I love when you say my name," she whispered.

Taken aback, he quieted. That word again.

"After 'You Worshipfulness,' 'Your Highnessness,' and all those other obnoxious nicknames…" She paused and he could hear the smile seep into her voice. "Now, my name on your lips sounds so beautiful."

Thrilled to change the topic, he spoke quickly. "Well, you know, you were a Princess and you never gave me permission to call you by your given name."

"As if you would wait for permission," she said dryly. Her arms encircled him, her cheek now beside his.

Struggling with more emotions than he could identify, he closed his eyes and swallowed. Her intimacy, her…love…it was too much to take.

"Leia, we both know how this is gonna end." His voice was hoarse and low, yet seemed so loud in the silence.

It was a long moment before she replied. "That doesn't mean we can't enjoy our time together." Her arms left him and she moved to sit in the co-pilot's seat, facing him and enfolding his hand in hers.

Han's eyes flitted around the cockpit before settling on her. "That's what I'm trying to do. But, we can't have more than right now. Cause you're goin' your way when this is over, and I'm goin' mine. And right now is just the present. I'm not sharing my past and I'm not thinkin' about the future. There's just now. And I'm not getting into anything deeper than that. Cause the end of this trip is complicated enough without adding anything else to it."

Her somber gaze was lowered to their joined hands. "I don't mean to complicate anything. I just…" She bit her lip and returned to look at him. "I've had all these feelings for so long…and they seem to be multiplying by the day, the more we're together. It's hard not to express them."

Her admission brought him a pleasant flush but stung at the same time. It was difficult to form a response. He looked away, dully acknowledging that the thought of losing her grew more painful as time passed. "I can't hear them. Or we're gonna have to stop this whole thing." When he turned his gaze back to her, her eyes were large with a hint of sorrow.

"Is that what you want?" she asked in a tight, clipped voice.

Gazes locked, he contemplated lying but knew he would only be hurting himself. He shook his head slowly. "No. But, I don't want this to be harder than it needs to be."

She nodded quickly. "Okay. Let's keep it in the present. And I'll try not to say too much."

He squeezed her hand and forced a small smile, still feeling unnerved but pretending the opposite. He'd never had any trouble covering what he felt. These days, it was a struggle.

The cockpit door hissed open and both their gazes were drawn to Threepio was shuffling inside.

"Mistress Leia!" he called. "Chewbacca asked me to return your misplaced hair comb."

Han's eyes flew to the droid's hand and he recognized the item immediately. A jolt of surprise and panic shot through him. Pressing his lips together, he glanced at Leia, who was holding her hand out to receive the offering, eyes puzzled.

Once in her hand, she appraised it with a frown. "This isn't mine, Threepio." Her eyes bolted to Han then back to the comb.

Uncomfortable now, he held his tongue.

"Well, of course it is yours, Your Highness," the droid declared. "Who else could it belong to?"

Her brow rose. "That's a very good question, Threepio." Another brisk glance at Han.

He was going to strangle that big, bushy beast. He knew she was waiting for an explanation. It was best to allow her to believe it belonged to a prior lover so he said nothing.

"But, it has your name on it." Threepio's head was tilted at an inquisitive angle.

Han froze, stomach sinking. He had completely forgotten about that.

Her eyes widened and she flipped the comb over to scrutinize it, lips forming a small, surprised circle. "Leia," she read in a voice filled with wonder. "A little piece of Alderaan for you." Her jaw fell open and, after a moment, she closed it and turned the comb right side up. For several beats, she only stared at it. Then, her head rose to look at Han.

Embarrassed, his neck felt warm and he sat up straight, eyes falling to the floor.

"This is an Alderaanian sea stone," she said in a quiet voice of amazement.

He looked at her and tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace.

"When did you buy this?"

"Coupla years ago," he muttered with a shrug.

"Why didn't you give it to me?" she asked gravely.

Another quick bounce of his shoulders was his only reply and his gaze was drawn away and back again.

She turned back to examine the large, flat stone. "It's lovely," she breathed.

"Oh, it is indeed," Threepio agreed. "The Alderaanian sea stone was discovered soon after the founding Organas settled on Alderaan. They are found—er, were found—on the shores of the Demara Beach. The stones come in varying shades of blue and green. The first king of Alderaan presented—"

"That will be all, Threepio," she said softly, eyes still on the comb.

The golden droid stood up straight, arms moving closer to his sides in a posture of offense, as the lights in his eyes blinked with quick surprise. Mumbling something about ungrateful humans, he turned and clunked from the cockpit.

Leia's gaze returned to Han and he silently cursed Chewie. He recalled that distant day on Hominor, strolling through the marketplace, eyes landing on the hair combs. When he realized the vendor had one with an Alderaanian stone, he had decided instantly to purchase it for the Princess. The vendor offered to write an inscription, which had seemed like a wonderful idea at the time. Chewie had been all for it. But, once they were onboard the Falcon, he had second guessed himself, feeling foolish. And when he saw Leia again, things were hostile enough that he tossed it somewhere and forgot all about it.

Apparently, the big Wookiee had not.

He wondered what would have happened if he had given it to her then. Would it have changed the course of things between them? He relinquished the thought, realizing that it didn't matter. She would still be engaged, would still be marrying another man. He realized she was looking at him and he forced his eyes to hers.

"Thank you, Han. I love this. I'll treasure it always." She clasped it to her chest.

He grunted acknowledgment, gaze bouncing around the cockpit. The air was solemn, yet charged. When he looked back to her, she was running one thumb across the stone. He had forgotten how pretty it was, light blue with both darker and lighter ribbons of blue streaking through it.

"I haven't seen one of these in so long," she confessed wistfully. "They're hard to find on the beach, since gem dealers go early in the morning to harvest them from the tide." She smiled at him, eyes distant and dreamy. "One morning, when I was young, I found one that had washed up all the way to the sand dunes. I was so excited, it was such a find." A light, bell-like laugh trickled through the air, a sound he had heard too infrequently.

It felt as if he were falling into her memory, like she was drawing him in with her words. He found himself very curious about her life on Alderaan, something he had given minimal thought to in the past.

"You like the beach?" he asked just to keep her talking.

"I used to love the beach. I haven't been since I was…probably about twelve or thirteen." She was still examining the comb with shining eyes.

"Why not?"

She looked up at him, as if suddenly remembering his presence. She thought for a moment. "I became busy with politics and the Rebellion. I took on responsibilities and there was less time for extracurricular activities."

"So, that's when you stopped having fun," he observed, new insight buzzing in his mind.

Her brow lifted in surprise then lowered in annoyance. "I'd hardly put it that way. But, there comes a time when one must grow up. The pursuit of fun can't be a lifelong, main goal." She frowned.

He thought about his own childhood on the harsh streets of Corellia, roaming the Blue Sector and getting into trouble, sometimes by accident, often on purpose. "Doesn't have to be a main goal. But, even when things are at their worst, you gotta have some fun."

A coy smile sprung to her features and she raised one brow. "That's where you come in, Captain."

He forced a smile despite the fact that her comment irritated him. Was that all he was? Some fun to distract the Princess? Resentment diverted the conversation. "That's why they say what they do about you."

"What do they say?"

"That you're an Ice Queen."

Her lips pursed together and her eyes dulled. "Yes, I've overheard that nickname."

He hadn't been sure if she were aware of it or not. "They call it like they see it." He shrugged.

Her eyes narrowed. "And how do you see it?"

Another terse raise of his shoulders. "Depends on the day."

She blinked quickly, startled and clearly angry. "I see," she said coldly. She reached for his hand and he watched her take it in hers. Turning over his palm, she placed the comb in it then closed his fingers to cover the keepsake. "Keep it," she said sharply before standing and exiting the cockpit with a haughty stride.

Sullen, confusion churning his stomach, his jaw hardened as he opened his hand to look at the comb. Things between them were always getting convoluted and combative. Maybe it was best that they were going their separate ways. She could live an easy life of luxury with her Prince. And he could go back to things being simple and uncomplicated. After all, she deserved to regain her true status as a Princess, and he was best off alone.

All he had to do was convince himself of that.