This story takes place a few days after the events of ANH. Han and Leia

both have a surprising realization.

George Lucas rules this domain, I am but a player in his world....

by Dant Solo

Princess Leia Organa entered the docking bay and spotted the ship that

was her destination. The Millenium Falcon was, to say the least, an

interesting ship. It looked like a derelict, a heap of scrap. Something that no

one in their right mind would consider space-worthy. When she had first

seen it, onboard the Death Star, she had almost laughed. They were going

to escape in that thing? It had to be a joke. Surely, no sane person would

willingly board the clapped-out, old freighter. Of course, she'd met the captain by that point, so she should have realized he was not sane. And he

was as much a conundrum as his ship.

The Millenium Falcon might have looked like a hunk of junk, but it was

quite possibly one of the fastest ships she had ever traveled in. She might

have been stunned at that realization, had their circumstances not been so

dire. And it's captain....

Well, he was as much of a surprise as his ship. He had spewed at her

about having no loyalty to, or interest in the Rebel Alliance. He had

presented himself as a pirate, a mercenary who cared for no one but himself

and his ship. And money. That was his primary concern. But somehow, he

had come back to aid the Alliance in their battle against the Death Star. He

had swooped in at the final, crucial moment and shot the last TIE-fighter off

Luke's back, allowing him the opportunity to make the shot that detroyed

the Death Star. They were both heroes. And Leia would not admit, even to

herself, how vital Han Solo had been to the outcome of the battle. She had

readily believed Solo's self-proclamations, but was now forced to view him

differently. She had seen his gruff affection for both Luke and Chewbacca,

his co-pilot. Yes, Han Solo was a puzzle.

And here she stood, before his ship, wondering what she was doing here.

She supposed she felt some kind of kinship with Luke, Han and Chewie,

considering all they had recently been through together. She knew Luke felt

it too. But the Corellian and the Wookiee....who knew?

She also knew they were a distraction for her. When she was in their

company, it was the only time she smiled or thought of anything but the

blinding, horrifying flash that had consumed Alderaan.

She let out a shaky sigh, trying to steady herself. She knew that someday

this intense, overwhelming, agonizing grief would fade to the back of her

mind. She was too logical and practical not to know that. But at the moment,

she could not imagine that anything could truly deaden the pain.

So she was seeking the distraction of their company. Of course Luke had

been the one to invite her. It was funny how Luke and Han seemed to

complement each other so perfectly. To Leia's benefit. Luke's gentle caring

soothed her in a surprising way, making her feel that there was still good in the galaxy, something worth fighting for. Solo, on the other hand, was

certainly not a comforting presence, but his wise cracks and even his

arguments gave her a temporary respite from her own thoughts. Of course,

she could never let him know that. He was cocky enough already.

Shaking herself from her thoughts, Leia approached the battered freighter

and made her way up the lowered boarding ramp. She entered the main hold

and all three beings turned to look at her. Luke's face lit up at the sight of

her.

"Leia! I'm glad you came." He walked over to her and smiled with genuine

affection, bordering on adoration. Leia returned his smile, avoiding the

Corellian's glare, which she was instinctively aware of.

"You invited Her Highnessness?" he asked sourly. "Why didn't you

mention that?"

Leia tensed. She knew they were about to enter into the battle of wills that

was their custom at this point. She hoped he would not push her too far.

There were moments when she could tolerate his jabs; still, there were other

moments when he pushed her past the limit of her considerable patience.

Neither Han nor Leia could decide if Luke's sheepish look was due to

embarrassment over not informing Solo of the extended invitation, or over

Han's rude treatment of the Princess. He turned to Han and said

defensively, "I didn't think it would be a big deal."

Leia met the Captain's eyes, as he studied her with an inscrutable

expression, almost as if he were gauging her. They stood silently for a

minute until Chewie growled loudly. As Solo was the only one who could

understand the massive Wookiee, he was the only one who responded.

"Whatever," he replied, shooting his furry partner a pointed look. He

turned back to Leia. "I'm not sure you want to spend time with us this

evening."

She bantered back. "Well, I almost didn't make it. After all, you're here."

She raised an eyebrow.

Han's eyes glimmered, a look she was beginning to know well. It ususally

meant he was about to tease her, or rip her to shreds. It all depended on his

mood. "You'd better watch yourself. This is my ship, after all. If you can't

be nice, you may never get invited back." He smirked and cut off her retort

before she could open her mouth. "Well, if you want to hang around, you're

going to have to join in our activities." His voice was almost a challenge.

"And what might those activities be?" If he said strip-sabaac she would

hit him. Hard.

With a devilish grin, Han gestured towards the holochess table. Resting

on top of the table was a bottle of what appeared to be Corellian whiskey

and three glasses. Leia glanced at Luke and caught his grimace. Apparently

he had not known what was on the evening's agenda. She wondered with

amusement if he would have invited her had he known.

"Well, Your Worship? Are you in?"

She wanted to wipe that smug look off his face. She was not much of a

drinker, but she refused to give Han the satisfaction of seeing her back

down. With a toss of her head, the determined Princess strode past Solo

straight to the holochess table. She opened the bottle of whiskey, poured a

generous amount into a glass and, without a word, downed half of the fiery liquid. She held back a grimace as her throat burned in protest.

When she turned back to the group, they all stared at her, mouths

hanging open. She struggled not to laugh. Inspired by her own boldness,

she sat down at the table, crossed her legs casually, leaned back and sipped

leisurely from her glass. "Anyone going to join me?" She asked with an air

of indifference.

Han was the first to recover his voice. With some amusement, he said,

"Sure, lemme get another glass." As he turned away towards the galley,

Leia saw his face contort with silent laughter, shoulders shaking slightly.

She couldn't help but take a small measure of pride in the fact that she had

amused him, as well as bested him.

They passed the evening in pleasant camaraderie. After the initial bout of

argumentative behavior, Han had not disturbed her too much. He teased, he

leered, he bantered; but he did not take it past the point of no-return, as she

had come to think of it. The four recently-found friends traded stories, told

jokes and generally had a good time. Solo's stories bordered on the

outrageous, but it was all in good fun.

After a few hours, Chewbacca had excused himself with some lengthy,

unintelligible explanation, then retired to his cabin. Luke had, quite simply,

fallen asleep on the table. He had consumed about the same amount of

alcohol as Solo, but it was obvious he had yet to develop the tolerance for it

that Han had. Leia had nursed her second drink for the last two hours,

despite Han's encouragement to "drink up."

She looked down at Luke's boyish features. He was so guileless. Leia

found it difficult to believe that he was the same age as her. She felt ten

years older. If not more. Eyes closed, lips slightly parted in sleep, he looked

even more sweet and innocent than usual.

Maybe that's why I like him so much, Leia thought. His youthful

exuberance was very appealing, a sharp contrast to the hard cynicism she

had recently acquired.

Thinking of cynicism brought Leia's attention back to her one conscious

companion. She looked up at Han Solo to find him watching her with

strangely intense eyes, his usual smirk oddly absent. She wondered what

he might possibly be thinking that would warrant such a serious expression.

When she met his eyes, he blinked sharply, somewhat abashed at having been caught openly staring. Jarred from his reverie, his face took on the

more casual insolence she was accustomed to seeing. He looked at Luke. "I

think this might be the first time the kid's ever had a drink." He smiled with

an affection that he would have denied, had she called him on it.

Leia smiled also. "Maybe. How old were you when you had your first

drink? Six? Seven?"

He laughed. "Something like that." His eyes grew thoughtful as he

wondered what she would think of his childhood. She'd probably run

away screaming, he decided bitterly. "What about you, Your Highness?

What vintage wine was served around the palace?" he asked with a lofty

air.

She blanched and swallowed hard. Inconsiderate bastard.

Han noticed her reaction and wanted to kick himself. He hadn't been

thinking of her tragedy. He lowered his gaze to his glass. "Sorry," he

mumbled.

She shook her head quickly to dismiss it. She sat quietly for a time, then

said in a low voice, "My father served wine at dinner every night. When I

was fifteen I was allowed to have one glass each night." She smiled

wistfully. "I loved Chandrillan Beloise wine."

Han watched her carefully, remaining silent for fear of saying something

else stupid. He wondered which was harder: to have a family, people you

love, and then lose them so suddenly; or to never have anyone love you.

He couldn't say, having only lived one of those scenarios. But her pain was

clear. He could see it in her eyes, as well as her posture. It bothered him to

see her in such misery. And it bothered him that he felt this way. Why did

he care? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that seeing her suffering

squeezed something inside his chest. It made him want to claim her pain as

his own. This was an unfamiliar sensation. It disturbed him, and he wished

he could make it go away.

When she met his serious gaze, their eyes locked. Something white-hot

sparked between them, something neither one was quite willing to admit to.

Leia found herself suddenly noticing how ruggedly handsome the Corellian

was. His dark hazel eyes were riveting. She couldn't tear her gaze away.

The feelings that bubbled suddenly within her were both unfamiliar and

confusing.

Han, for his part, was not confused in the least by what he felt. But the

intensity of those feelings surprised him. He found himself wondering what

the Princess' mouth would taste like. His mind buzzed as he imagined

closing the distance between them; pulling her tightly against him;

caressing her tongue with his; lifting her in his arms and carrying her back

to his cabin; slipping the tan tunic from her shoulders and running his

tongue along her smooth skin...

Whoa! He was getting carried away. His breathing had increased ever-so-

slightly and his body was responding to these thoughts in an embarrassing

way. What was he thinking? She would never go for him in that way. And

he wasn't really interested anyway. And she was interested in Luke.

So why had these thoughts crossed his mind?

He told himself that it was seeing her the other day that had put these

thoughts in his mind. She had been stunning at the awards ceremony, had

practically taken his breath away. When she'd presented him with the

medal, he winked, and when she smiled radiantly in return, his heart had

pounded. But he had dismissed it as a normal reaction to a beautiful woman.

Up until that moment he had thought her a pretty girl, but standing there in

the long, white, flowing gown, hair braided down her back, she looked

like...well, an angel. What the hell was wrong with him? At any rate, he

could blame this sudden rush of desire on memories of her appearance that

day.

Leia simply blamed it on the alcohol. She broke their magnetizing gaze,

breaking the spell along with it.

"I should be going," she said, returning her eyes to his with considerably

less intensity. She began to rise, but Han's hand darted out to detain her.

"What's the rush?" He grinned wolfishly. "Afraid to be alone with me?"

She smirked, but something deep inside her almost acknowledged that his

statement might have some validity. "Hardly," she retorted dryly. "But it's

late..," she began.

"By who's standards?" He exhaled derisively. "You just have no idea

how to relax."

Her eyebrows drew together sharply. Why was it that this man was

always able to get on her nerves so effectively? Had she actually thought a

moment earlier that he was handsome? Must've been a trick of the light.

Han saw the spark of battle in her eyes and fought to lighten the mood, as

well as prolong their time alone together. Although he wasn't quite sure

why. "Hey, c'mon...stay a while. My company's not that bad, is it?" He

smiled softly.

Leia recognized what was quite possibly an apology. Or at least as close

as the Corellian could get to one. Her posture relaxed and she looked

meaningfully at his hand still clasping hers.

With a frown, Han released her hand, aware of her heat. He felt strangely

vulnerable, something he was unaccustomed to. Almost as if he were

compelled to obey her every command. He was fairly certain that she was

used to that sort of reaction to her status as a princess. But he'd be damned

if that would impress him. He had to stop this.

"So, Your Worship." He was deliberately irreverent. "You really believe in

this Force stuff?" This was a safe topic.

She raised an eyebrow. "I assume you don't?"

"Answering a question with a question, huh?"

She sighed with impatience. "Of course I believe in the Force. The Jedi

were once the guardians of the galaxy. Protectors, the keepers of peace.

They did so much good."

"It's a myth," Han said simply. "Bunch of magicians. Hocus pocus, I

say." He refilled Leia's glass, ignoring her gesture of protest.

She eyed the glass warily then took the smallest of sips.

He focused on her face again. "You ever see one of these Jedi Knights in

action?"

"Well, no. They were-" she began heatedly.

He did not allow her to finish. "That's what I thought. They were just a

bunch of holier-than-thou guys who happened to be good at swordplay."

Leia shook her head disdainfully. "Do you believe in anything? I mean,

other than your ship and a blaster?"

He grinned. "Not really, no." He leaned back and placed his hands behind

his head. "At any rate, I don't believe there's anything controlling my

destiny. I make my own luck. And if I can't do that with this ship or my

blaster...well, hell, then it can't be done."

"Let me guess. You're a "glass is half empty" kind of guy." She took

another tiny sip of her drink.

Han lowered his hands to the table and leaned forward, grinning wickedly.

"It all depends on how thirsty you are, Sweetheart."

Leia rolled her eyes, but inwardly she almost laughed. He was so

predictable.

"Besides," he continued, on a roll now. "You're one to talk. Up on your

pedestal, all high and mighty. You don't let a damn thing touch you." He

was teasing her, assuming she would not take offense. "Do you feel

anything?" He wasn't quite willing to admit what he was implying.

Leia's breath caught as if he'd slapped her. Han recognized the hurt look

immediately and mentally kicked himself for being so stupid.

"No, Captain, I don't feel a thing," she retorted, voice lethal. "It takes the

destruction of an entire world to make me feel anything." Her eyes were

shards of ice as she glared at him.

Han looked contritely at the drink between his hands, desperately seeking

some softening words. Before he could come up with anything suitable, the

Princess was on her feet and heading towards the ramp. Han jumped up

instantly, grabbing her arm to prevent her sudden departure.

"Hey, Your Holiness-"

She spun on him and shook his hand off angrily. "Stop calling me that!"

She was dangerously close to tears. She wasn't sure who she was more

upset with, him for being such an idiot, or herself for letting him get to her.

Why did he always seem to bring out the worst in her? She looked him fully

in the face and was surprised at his expression. He looked...penitent and

regretful. Somehow, that just made her feel more like crying.

He placed his hands on his hips and sighed. "I was just kidding, you

know that." He saw the sheen of tears in her eyes and felt like a shit. He

reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently. He looked at the

floor, then up at Leia, then back down at the floor.

Leia wasn't quite sure what to think. He was trying to be sweet, in that

frustratingly crass way of his.

His mouth opened before he knew what he was going to say. Eventually

he spoke. "See, this is why we smugglers don't walk in royal circles. Too

much opportunity for sticking your foot in your mouth." He tried out a

smile.

She didn't smile back, but her expression softened. His smile became a grin

of relief. Just when she thought he was the most infuriating man she had

ever met, he let a glimpse of kindness shine through.

Surprising her yet again, he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it

gently. The spot where his lips touched tingled insanely. With large, liquid

brown eyes, she stared up at him, feeling suddenly exposed and vulnerable.

She would never know that the look in her eyes had the exact same effect

on him, making his insides quiver, and completely unnerving him. He

struggled to find something to say before he embarrassed himself by acting

on impulse. He was certain she would slap his face if he did.

She saved him from such a fate. "Well, Captain," she said softly.

"Sometimes royalty can make allowances." A tiny smile quirked the corners

of her mouth. She squeezed his hand slightly. They shared a quiet moment

that each of them savored.

Leia looked down at Luke's head resting on the table. "I suppose we

should wake him up and get him back to the barracks."

"Nah," Han replied off-handedly. He dropped her hand as the moment

ended. "Let him sleep it off here on the Falcon." Then, unexpectedly, and

with more gentleness than the Princess would have credited him with, he

leaned over and hefted the smaller man in his arms. Luke murmured softly as

Solo shifted his weight. He started to smile, then caught himself and

scowled instead.

Leia did not miss the changes in facial expression. She was mildly taken

aback by Solo's tenderness , but she smiled at his scowl. She took two

steps to his side and with some amusement at his apprehensive expression,

Leia stood on tiptoe and kissed Han quickly on the cheek.

Eyes wide, brow lifted in surprise, Han just looked at her. His heart

jumped at her touch, and he felt strangely giddy. It took a moment before

he found his voice. "What was that for?" he asked, mentally denying the

sudden huskiness of his voice.

Leia smiled knowingly, eyes twinkling. "You're not so tough, Solo," she

chided.

Han's heart skipped a beat as he looked down at her glowing smile. It was

a smile he had not before been the recipient of, and it made him glad he had

decided to hang around the Rebels a bit longer.

She softly touched his shoulder before turning and leaving. He stared after

her, eyes filling with desire. His cheek was hot from the brief touch of her

lips. He felt himself sinking, but into what he could not tell. What had he

been thinking earlier about not being interested in her? Well, hell, a man

could only take so much.

He found himself fearing that he would dream of her that night. Sweet, hot

dreams that would awaken him with a longing of both body and soul. He

took a deep breath and let it out very, very slowly. Damn. This was

frustrating. Maybe sticking around here wasn't such a great idea.

END