EPHEMERAL

(adj.) fleeting, evanescent, lasting for only a brief time

Leia woke up slowly, distinguishing sensations first that rising awareness gradually put into context. The cool Aeien sheets skimming over her bare body. The weight of her hair splayed out on the pillows above them. Han's warm exhales teasing the receptive skin at the nape of her neck. The tickling brush of his chest hair against her back with each slow and even breath he took as he, too, progressively awakened.

She stretched her legs a touch, nestling back into him, and was met with an additional sensation: Han's morning hardness jutting into the curve of her lace-covered rear-end, the only part of her still covered. The intimate contact hastened them both to full alertness — and it all came flooding back to Leia, the totality of the evening before. Heated kisses and impassioned touches, soul-stirring fulfillment such as she'd never known.

And that was only just scratching the surface, a mere taste of what could be had, felt, experienced together. There was an entire uncharted world of ecstasy still waiting to be explored. She'd spent years relentlessly shying away from it; to do so had seemed imperative at the time. But after last night, she was left seriously questioning, what in all the galaxy for? Who had it benefited? What was truly the need?

She defended her position as the pragmatic and responsible choice when explaining it to Han, adamant that she wasn't at all influenced by old-fashioned notions, and she'd emphatically believed that. Now, however, Leia could see that she had, indeed, been thinking of sex if not in an old-fashioned way certainly in a very naïve way, as if simply engaging in it would somehow involuntarily change her or their relationship.

By blunt definition, she was still a virgin; they still hadn't had normatively defined sexual intercourse. And yet she had been incredibly intimate with Han. He'd watched her come, he'd made her come, and she had done the same for him. Never before in her life had she taken such a risk, had she demonstrated such a level of trust to lay herself so bare to another person — and she felt the striking significance of that intimacy, both last night and still this morning. There had been a fundamental shift in their relationship, in the same way there was after she first welcomed Han's kiss in the circuitry bay, and again, after they first admitted their feelings to one another later that evening. What's more, she genuinely couldn't imagine that sense of significance feeling any more striking, the shift being any more monumental, had it been his penis inside her rather than his fingers.

She had set up such a careful differentiation between the two that had eased her fears enough to allow her to take a portion of the leap she'd been longing to take with Han. She supposed she was grateful to her harried mind for coming up with the loophole that made last night's experience possible, but the very concept of some big distinction felt ludicrous to her now.

And that led Leia to question herself further. If the part of Han's anatomy inside her wasn't what caused this shift in their relationship, was it the 'inside her' part? Would it have been different if she'd limited his touch to only external genitalia? Perhaps kept it entirely above the waist? Then it wouldn't have carried as much weight? Or maybe it was the orgasm itself; he could touch her, but as long as she didn't come in front of him then it wouldn't have signified? Could it have been the nudity that gave it magnitude? Maybe he could intimately touch her, just not bare?

All of these potential, completely subjective parameters seemed positively absurd to her, opening her eyes to the indisputable insight that her past view of intercourse — or any kind of sexual contact — as a major milestone and turning point was deeply flawed. In point of fact, it was outright false.

Opening herself up to a new level of vulnerability, trust, and closeness with Han was the pivotal step forward. Sexual things had been a part of that, but only peripherally. Metaphorically letting Han in had allowed for its physical replication last night, yet the true cause of the shift between them had been the lowering of emotional walls. This new deepening of their relationship merely happened to derive out of sexual acts because that was where she had drawn the line. Someone like Winter, who was utterly sexually uninhibited, wouldn't have thought twice about letting a man finger her — frankly, even a complete stranger, if she was attracted to him. But Winter would have been outright scandalized had any man tried touching her hair, an intimacy that Leia herself had begun allowing with Han long ago, one that had developed so gradually and naturally that she thought nothing of it, though it had been ingrained in her throughout her lifetime just the same as Winter.

It was so easy to see now that this turning point with Han had been sexual in nature only because that was where she had always placed significance. And even so, now that she'd loosened some of her ironclad control over herself and finally let go with Han, while she did perhaps register an additional layer of admiration, appreciation, and regard toward him, it wasn't because of those intimate acts themselves. It was because of the care, tenderness, and emotional sensitivity he had shown her throughout those acts.

Furthermore, if she imagined hypothetically engaging in those very same things with anyone else…say Wedge or Hobbie — she wanted to include Luke, as the other male she was by far the closest to, but her mind wouldn't go anywhere near considering those things with him! — Leia knew down to her very soul that it definitely would not make her feel connected to them. Simply being sexual with them wouldn't lead to romantic feelings, or any feelings at all beyond the physical sensations of the moment.

Dear gods, it seemed so clear to her now that she felt like an utter simpleton for failing to recognize it all this time.

Intercourse, other physical intimacies, kissing, chastely holding hands, or anything in between — none of that by its very nature could create or even bolster an attachment. The simple truth was that being in love with Han was what made all the difference. Yes, love could grow and strengthen with each new milestone and progression in the interweaving of a couple's lives — sex, cohabitation, marriage, children — but she was forever connected to Han by her love for him before they'd so much as kissed. In her fear, she'd denied it, refused to see it, but for years now they were already joined, irretrievably coupled and bonded, an inseparable 'we' prior to a single stitch of clothing being removed.

Yes, having sex with Han would be meaningful and profound. But only because of the preexisting love she felt for him, only because Han already lived inside her heart without requiring any intimate contact between them at all. Because sex did not have the power to bind and bond. It was the feelings for your partner, it was the love — and love alone — that did that.

And for her and Han, it was already done.

As if to reinforce her private musings, Han gathered her closer into his embrace, pressing a tender kiss to her shoulder.

He had no clue as to the substantial epiphany his princess was having. Han knew only fulfillment, love, and renewed desire. Altogether, he felt like the luckiest being in the galaxy. Leia, the love of his life, the woman far beyond anything he'd ever dared dream, was lying warm and plaint in his arms — and he couldn't get enough of her.

Leia's skin beneath his lips was softer than any of the Core's most decadent silks, and he gave an overwhelmed sigh, his lashes fluttering with satisfaction. "Morning, Sweetheart," he greeted in a husky, somewhat muffled murmur as he skimmed his mouth over her shoulder and along her clavicle to settle in at the crook of her neck.

The pleasing touch of his lips gave way to the hot, slick brush of his tongue and the gentle bite of his teeth. The combination sent a thrum of arousal coursing through Leia, and with it, a dam of realization burst, flooding her with the knowledge that she really could fully release her white-knuckled grip on restraint. Love was the risk, not sex — and she already knew herself to be powerless to halt or control that love — which meant she was free to do anything she wanted with Han. Nothing was stopping her. There was absolutely no reason to hold back any longer.

And she didn't want to. Now that her mind and heart were clear, why in all the worlds would she want to?

Yes, it was undeniably heartbreaking to have a time constraint, a looming countdown to their zero hour, but while they were both still safe and together, every moment they had left should be spent wrapped up in each other. It may not be long — true, not nearly long enough — but it would be better than nothing at all.

We have right now, Sweetheart. Nothing and no one can ever take that away, Han had told her last night, and he was right. It was going to hurt like crazy either way. No prevention, no inaction, not a single thing could stop that now. So why hold back and deny them both? They might as well have a beautiful memory to look back on when they were apart. In fact, it now felt glaringly essential for them to have that shared experience, to fully and freely know each other that way before Han left. The memory would help sustain them, bolster them against whatever hardships may come — she suddenly didn't know how she would ever make it through their time apart if that need went unanswered.

Leia eased out of Han's embrace enough to roll onto her back so she could look into his eyes. "I think we should talk about last night."

She couldn't help laughing aloud at the expression that overtook his face, particularly since the outcome of said conversation was certain to have the opposite effect of the dread currently engulfing his features. "You don't have to be afraid; I'm not going to bolt from the room, or even this bed. Don't worry, I don't want to take last night back. And I'm not embarrassed. I'm still comfortable with you this way." To demonstrate as much, she took his hand and guided it beneath the covers to her bare breast. "You're still allowed to touch me, Han," she promised him sensually.

With a throaty sigh, he let his hand mold around her and felt her nipple pebbling against his palm as he stroked the tantalizingly rough pad of his thumb over the upper swell of her breast.

"Mmm." It was Leia's turn to sigh, her back unconsciously arching into his touch. "Goddess, you're good at that," she murmured while he absently teased at her nipple, tugging and rolling it between his fingers. It was enticing enough to distract her from her train of thought, though she tried to persist. "What I wanted to talk about, it's — it's nothing bad, it's—" She broke off into a soft whine of pleasure at his continued ministrations. "But I…think I should explain what…mm, what happened…why it happened and — gods, Han."

He leaned down to suck at her throat, humming into all that smooth, warm Leia-skin. "I know what happened, Princess. Got it memorized, in vivid detail. Intend to replay it often."

"Scoundrel," she smiled, reaching for his shoulder. She meant it as a playful shove of scolding, but her fingers grasped onto him of their own volition, tugging him closer.

"Aren't I lucky you like 'em so much?" Han provoked, drawing back to smirk wickedly down at her.

"I don't like all scoundrels, I like your kind of scoundrel." She ran her forefinger over the scar on his chin, her middle finger coming up to join in as she traced his lower lip, shivering to remember all his mouth could do to her and knowing that was only the half of it. "I like you," Leia told him earnestly, sweetly, and he pursed his lips to kiss her fingers, opened his mouth and playfully nipped at them. "Stop that," she laughed, endeavoring not to get too distracted by his distracting touch — which, to be fair, she had started. "I'm trying to tell you something important."

Han swooped down again to graze his lips over the shell of her ear. "Alright, I'll be good," he whispered, though his tone and the gentle pull of his teeth at her earlobe as he retreated were anything but…and his hands were still noticeably busy on her body. "Go ahead, Highness. I'm listenin'."

"Well, we both know that even after admitting our feelings for each other I've still been…" she tilted her eyes upward, searching for the best words to describe it. "…guarded with myself."

"Yeah, and you had good reason. I told you, Leia, I get it." He drew two fingers over her forehead to clear away stray wisps of her hair. Then, as if unable to resist, he delved his entire hand into the fragrant mass.

Leia, in turn, moved her touch down to his bicep, indulging in a squeeze before beginning a stimulating circuit from shoulder to wrist and back again, equally powerless to stop petting some part of his skin. "Even so, my actions last night must have been confusing. Telling you for weeks that I felt it would be a mistake to take things into the bedroom, but then suddenly trying to get you to—" She stopped short; the less said about the disconcerting, misbegotten start to the night, the better. "And then encouraging other intimacies I'd also said were off limits…" She sighed, shaking her head at herself and giving a rueful smile. "I was a bit all over the place last night, wasn't I? That, I am embarrassed about. I like to think, ordinarily, I have it more together…"

"Leia, you were—"

"The truth is," she interrupted his description of her behavior that was likely to be flattering, though she didn't find it so, giving him the blunt reality of events, "I just wanted to give myself permission to be with you in some way, so I rationalized it however I could."

Han slid his hand still at her breast down to her side, his touch becoming less sexual and more comforting as he softly stroked his thumb along the dip of her waist. "Sweetheart, you don't have to explain. Whatever the reason, I definitely enjoyed the, uh, 'turn of events'," he flirtatiously borrowed one of her oft-used 'princess phrases' as he called them.

"Yes, but I want to explain how that turn of events came about," Leia stole the phrase right back in spirited challenge, arching up to nip at his neck. She pressed a lingering open-mouthed kiss to the hollow of his throat, swirling her tongue over his skin, before settling back into the pillows. "I want you to know what I was thinking then so you can understand how I arrived at what I'm feeling now."

Han nodded. "Alright, explain away," he acquiesced, still thinking it unnecessary but, as always, in the end willing to go along with whatever she wanted. He backed up the words with corporal commitment, pushing further up on his elbow and away from the heat of her body to give her his full attention.

Leia took a long breath before diving into what would be an unbecoming look into her rationale on the previous evening. "I told myself we could do what we did last night because it would be different than full sex. Sex is something adjoined, it's an experience you're sharing. Just touching one another still maintains a barrier; there's a degree of separation there."

Han's brow furrowed a tad but he nodded again. "Okay. I…think I get what you're saying. Like it's less personal?"

"More like that it would be individual," she supplied, chagrined at her own naivety for ever thinking what they did last night wouldn't be a synergistic experience; the very fact that it was them guaranteed it would be. "Something for me and something for you, rather than something we were creating and partaking in together."

Leia wasn't fully satisfied with that explanation and knew the most straightforward and simplistic way to get her point across because it was exactly what had gone through her mind last night, though it was far from complimentary. "This is going to sound insulting," she warned. "It is insulting — you know I'd never let you hear the end of it if you thought of me this way — but almost like using a vibrator, only it would be your fingers instead."

Maybe he had a more utilitarian view of sex than she did, but Han wasn't offended by that. It made perfect sense to him, really. There were plenty of ways he'd imagined it happening over the years in his heated late-night fantasies, but if Leia ever did actually let herself go there with him, he'd long suspected the reality would be something like that. She would rationalize it as merely a perfunctory yielding to an inherent biological urge, allowing her to assuage her yearning to go to bed with him while continuing to maintain that barrier of distance. While it certainly screamed of emotional issues on her part, if anything, it was flattering to him, that she craved him so intensely she was willing to twist herself in knots to justify it.

"Nothing insulting far as I can see," Han shrugged, and truly meant it. "You have to guard yourself, but you still wanted to experience…" His mind sought out a non-vulgar way of phrasing it, and he eventually went with the clinical. "…a sex act. You wanted to try it with me because you want me, because there's always been an electric pull between us, and if you wanted to see how your body could sing with another person, who better to show you?"

"No. Not like that," Leia shook her head, baulking at his description, though she knew he didn't mean anything negative by it. "I didn't just want to experience something sexual with another person. If that was all it was, I could have gotten it many places by now. And it was more than choosing you because we have an immense attraction, or even because I knew it would be good, you would be good — of course you would be good in bed."

She watched his eyes heat and drift involuntarily to her lips at her acclamation of his sexual talents, and Leia smiled, rewarding him with further laudatory truth. "Both of those statements are entirely accurate, Captain, but they're not the reason why. That makes it seem as if I consider you a gigolo."

Han smirked at that. "Gigolos are in it to get paid, Sweetheart. And credits sure as hell ain't the reason I spent years tryin' to get you into bed."

"Fine then, a consort. That's how my aunts — to be fair, all of Society — derisively referred to it whenever someone of rank kept a lover around for the sole purpose of servicing them," Leia explained with aversion. "I didn't just want a sex act. I wanted a sex act with you." She frowned hearing it aloud. "I'm not sure that sounds much better, but there is a vital distinction."

"Leia, it's okay. I understand what you're getting at," Han asserted. "Better than you think I do. It was you I wanted last night, not just to touch or be touched."

"Yes." Leia breathed a relieved sigh, grateful that he appreciated that crucial difference. "I wanted specifically to be touched by you. And only you. That's what I'm trying to say, that's what I wanted. Not just the physical act, but you."

"Honey, I felt, feel, the same way. Why do you think I chose—" Han broke into a wry laugh. "—hells, more like I resigned myself to — celibacy for so long? Because I don't just want sex. I want sex with you. It has to be you."

"Exactly," she approved. Still, his previous remark about their chemistry, the allusion that it would be the reason she'd pick him, continued not to sit right. She couldn't bear the thought of him thinking that's all it was to her. "But not only because I find you so unfairly, irresistibly desirable," she told him, running her hands down his chest.

"Leia," he groaned. His hand had a mind of its own, gliding up from her waist to seek her breast again before Han brought it under control, halting his touch mid-ribcage. "You can't say things like that when you're in bed with me, mostly naked, and expect me to stay sane or well-behaved."

Her eyes danced happily, pleased that he remained so utterly affected by her. "I wasn't trying to entice you, but the fact is I do find you wildly, overwhelmingly attractive. Still, that's not why it happened. I would never want you to think that I think of you as an object for my gratification."

Han's smirk was absolutely delighted now. "Worship, you can objectify me all you want."

She rolled her eyes, swatting at his arm playfully. "I'm serious. Last night happened because I wanted you, all of you, the totality that is you as a person, and I—"

"Laurel, I know," he cut off her impassioned explication with a soft smile. "I was only teasing. We both adore the whole sum of each other, okay? Is that a sufficient statement to satisfy Her Highness?" he asked waggishly, his fingers tickling at her sides.

"Yes. Her Highness has been thoroughly satisfied," Leia reported with a wink that let him know she definitely intended the double entendre. "What I'm trying to say," she went on, leaning up to steal a quick kiss, "is that, despite what I told myself it would be, that wasn't at all how it felt in the moment, when we were…" Her words trailed away, though she held his gaze.

Han's eyes darkened to remember it, and his voice when he spoke was that low and husky rumble that tripped along her spine. "When I was getting you off?"

He said it to get a rise out of her, to see more of that adorable color splash across her cheeks, but Leia called his bluff by throwing back a sultry, "Or when I was getting you off", for she hadn't been too shy to describe it, she only wanted it known that she meant the entirety of their interlude, not only the things he did to her but when she was loving him, too.

She was rewarded for the seductive comment by the twitch of hardness against her thigh, his thin sleep pants doing nothing to mask the tantalizing heat of him. "The point is," Leia smiled at his reaction, "it wasn't individual or impersonal, it wasn't detached or merely functional. It was the very opposite of that impassive experience I told myself it would be. And, Han," she paused to hold his gaze meaningfully, to lace their fingers together atop her hip, "I'm glad. I'm so grateful for that. Because even though it wasn't sex, to me, it still felt like an expression—" she altered her statement mid-sentence as she realized it for herself. "Yes, as far as I'm concerned it was making love."

While Leia was certain he'd experienced the profound connection between them last night just as she had, some verbal confirmation and input from him felt necessary at this point. "What do you think, Han? Did you feel that same way?"

Han pushed himself higher until he was sitting up against the headboard and pivoted at the waist to face her. "Leia." He took a deep breath and slowly expelled it.

Some might have thought it a stalling tactic; Leia knew him well enough to recognize it as trepidation at what he was about to say — or more precisely, her reaction to it.

"I'm not gonna lie," he finally answered, confirming her suspicion, "before you, I didn't once use the phrase 'making love'. I never would have."

"I can certainly understand that," she assured him with a soft smile. "I highly doubt it was in the commonly used lexicon of the circles you ran in."

"It was more than that. I knew the saying; I just thought it was ridiculous." Han cocked his head to the side, his left brow and that same corner of his mouth lifting in a sardonic half-smirk to think how his younger self would have scoffed at the very idea of referring to the act in that manner. "Nah, to me, sex was sex. Sometimes it was better than others, but I wouldn't've ever described it in any romanticized way. You might be surprised to know, even at my most cynical, I didn't doubt that love could exist. For some. Never for me, didn't think I was built that way, but for others. Even then, with those 'others', I couldn't see what place love had in sex. Sex was its own thing; sex was about lust, physical need, a fundamental biological drive. Galaxy-wide, more things fuck than not, in one way or another — humans, humanoids, all kinds of alien species; kriff, even animals and bugs! — and love ain't any part of it. Figured what beings really meant when they said 'making love' was that the sex felt especially good, or they imagined it did, 'cause they were so gone on whoever they were fucking. But now…"

He looked down at Leia, still lying reclined against the pillows — the striking cascade of her hair flowing free and wild around them; the bedsheet now fallen to his waist and dragged far enough down her chest to reveal the top half of her areolas, a situation she made no movement to correct; her eyes soft and bright with feeling — and she was easily the most stunning, precious thing he had ever beheld. Nothing had ever been, or ever would be, more cherished or dearer to him.

He'd been man enough for a while now to admit he cared about things. He cared about the success of the Alliance and had a vested interest in seeing the Empire fall. He hated the fuck out of Vader for everything he'd done to Leia, desperately wanted him blown to bits the same as that bastard Tarkin. He cared about the Rogues, the little kriffers; they were the new gang he ran with. As a boy, he adored his mother for the short time he had her, and he came to love Dewlanna in that same way. Most of all, he loved Chewie, loved Luke, loved the Falcon. But nothing in this whole galaxy or others beyond — nothing — could come close to meaning more to him than Leia. Nothing and no one could begin to compare to how much he loved her.

He almost had to laugh at his former, cynical self and all he had still to learn, all he had yet to discover and taste for himself.

"Now, yeah, I think I do understand what making love is," Han told her sincerely, in awe himself to recognize the truth of it. He shifted onto his elbow to lean over her, tenderly running his fingers along her side. "Think it's when you use those physical acts not only for sexual gratification but as an expression of what you're feeling. To show that person, share it with them — let them feel it, more than just words could. If that's what it means, then yeah. Yeah, Leia, I think that's exactly what we did last night."

Without preamble, she reached for his neck with both hands and pulled him down into an enthusiastic, wholly unreserved kiss.

Her emphatic affection, combined with the smile he could feel against his lips, let Han know he must have said something right. After several moments more of passionately showing him, Leia gently eased back and he could see her smile, too — broad and beaming, near blinding in its joyful intensity.

"Yes, that's what I mean by making love," she wholeheartedly endorsed. "And what I've been trying to get at in my usually long-winded way," she said, rolling her eyes as she lightheartedly used one of his old descriptions of her particularly fervent speeches, "is that, since it did feel that way, it's made me realize I've been looking at this entirely wrong. These past weeks, if I'm honest with myself, for years now," she admitted, "as much as I've wanted to — and, Han, I've really, really wanted to — I've been terrified of having sex with you because I thought it would make us further connected to one another. But last night, I felt immeasurably connected to you; I didn't need your cock inside of me for that."

Leia watched the color of his eyes deepen with hunger at her graphic words, felt said member one again pulse against her in eager approval of that image, but Han said nothing, made no move to touch her further, just nodded for her to continue.

"Because it isn't intercourse that connects two people. Literally, in that moment it physically does, but intercourse doesn't make feelings, or even add to them. You already do or don't bring those feelings to the table. Sex — whether you have it all the time, or never at all — isn't going to, can't, change that."

Leia suddenly felt very foolish hearing herself say it out loud. It was now so simplistic and evident to her, but only minutes ago it had come as a grand revelation. Though she had never considered herself as someone who overly sentimentalized sex, clearly, she'd been approaching it in a painfully idealistic way that a person as worldly as Han would surely find embarrassingly innocent and callow. "I know that makes me sound terribly unsophisticated and immature," she acknowledged, "to even need to make that discovery."

Han smiled for a moment, then realized she was serious. "Hey, what are you talking about?" he scoffed. "You're all kinds of sophisticated — you're a fuckin' princess. And you sure as hell aren't immature. You? Sweetheart, 'm sure you had the wisdom, maturity, and restraint of a two-hundred-year-old Wookiee back when you actually were a child. Kest, I don't know, Leia…I've never tried it with feelings before. Maybe sex will make us feel emotionally connected to each other. Just not in any kind of life-altering way. Not any more than we—"

"Than we already are," Leia finished for him, knowingly. "Yes, I see that now. When we finally have sex, it will be an intense and meaningful experience. But not because it's sex, because it's us. Emotionally speaking, the intimacy of intercourse won't be any different from what we've already shared. And I don't mean last night. I mean every time you held me after a nightmare, every time we jumped in front of blaster bolts for each other, every inside joke, every look across the Command Center, every game of sabacc, every long conversation, all the confidences shared. Those were the moments that created and added to the feelings. Those were the things that forged the inescapable connection. It's already there; there's nothing for it now. The thing I was so terrified of has already happened."

"So…" She wrapped her arm around his side, tugging the weight of his upper torso down solidly against hers. "I was thinking…thinking that — that we…" A blush spread high over her cheekbones and she did shy away from it now, not wanting to come out and beg him for it but wanting it all the same.

Han's brow furrowed to find her so uncharacteristically tongue-tied. "Go ahead," he gently encouraged. "Whatever it is, you can say it, Sweetheart."

"I think we should," Leia blurted.

She let the statement hang there for a beat, and it sounded…correct. Hearing it, letting the idea fully penetrate, the choice felt good to her. It felt right.

In the Command Center, at tactical displays, or in the heat of battle itself, when Leia had to decide on the next vital course of action, though it wasn't something she could discerningly put into words, there was always a moment where she felt it deep down into her bones when she'd hit upon the right thing — knew to the very core of her that it was irrefutably the propitious, imperative and solely vital move to make. This was just such a moment, and Leia gave a decisive nod, confirming she'd heard and understood the will of the Universe, or the Force, or whatever it was that compelled and filled her with this definitive sense of rightness.

"Yes," she categorically redoubled, "I absolutely think we should make love before you leave."

Han thought he had understood what it was to be stunned, but after the jarring reversals of the past day, he now realized that 'stunned' had a whole other level.

First, there was the about-face transformation of Lando — whom Han had known as far more of a scoundrel and fast-talking criminal than he ever came close to being — into the respected and revered Baron Administer of Cloud City. It was difficult to even get his head around that utter metamorphosis.

Sure, Han himself had changed quite a bit over the past years, but as Leia delighted in pointing out, deep down, he was never really all that bad. He became an expert pickpocket out of necessity, for his literal survival, at an appallingly tender age when he was far too young to understand the right or wrong of it — and powerless to get out once he was old enough to know better. Even when he finally did get away from Shrike, life wasn't magically sunshine and flowers. Systemic poverty perpetuated in a society set up to benefit the rich, which was the case more often than not galaxy-wide. Born into that kind of hand-to-mouth lifestyle, the deck was firmly stacked against beings like him, making it nearly impossible to ever break the cycle of hardship, so you were stuck doing what you had to do to make ends meet. Not everyone can afford morals, Princess, used to be his favorite thing to say to Leia back in the days after they first met.

Lando, on the other hand, had about as close to an idyllic childhood as most beings got. Raised by both parents in comfort and stability, Lando had become a gambler, smuggler, mercenary, and all-around con artist purely out of sport. Flying here, Han had fully expected to find Lando running some kind of long con; it was the only explanation. But everything he'd witnessed since arriving on Bespin pointed to his old friend actually being an upstanding member of society now, and one who took seriously his responsibly for the wellbeing and governance of the city and its near million citizens. Such a whiplash turnaround was too much of a red flag for Han to fully trust, but for now, he appeared to be on the up-and-up.

And then there was Leia, with her sudden attempt to seduce him into a seduction of her, followed up by tears and then apology, and then the eventual decision to engage in some mutually satisfying sexual contact that although he'd very much enjoyed had been similarly flummoxing in the extreme nature of its reversal, from strictly off-limits to Leia imploring him not to refuse her.

All in all, Han thought he really couldn't be blamed for being a bit disoriented. Especially given her ambiguous word choice, having also just described last night's handplay in the same vein. Thus, it seemed reasonable — even necessary — to ask, "'Making love', as in…?"

"As in sex, Han," Leia answered with an amused smile, understanding the reason for his uncertainty but wishing to quickly rid him of it. "I think that you and I," she went on slowly, letting it sink in, "should have sex before you go…At least once. Preferably, several times. Starting soon."

Looking up at him, Leia gave herself permission to feel in its entirety all the desire for Han she'd spent years trying to lock up, and the seductive tone that crept into her voice was as spontaneous as it was authentic. "I was thinking today."