Disclaimer: "StarWars" and all related characters are registered trademarks of Lucasfilm, Ltd.  No infringement is intended.  No money was received.

NC17--SEXUAL (though not explicit) CONTENT WITHIN!!  Just so you 
know, there are bedroom scenes here.  There is no graphic detail.  In 
fact, there's little detail at all, graphic or otherwise.  But if you have a 
moral, ethical, religious, or other such objection to such scenes and pre-
marital sex, STAY AWAY if you know this will easily offend you.

I welcome responses, positive or otherwise (well, actually, I only
*welcome* positive ones, but I'll read 'em all regardless) from any
and all readers.  I will enjoy, I promise you, being able to bask in
your praise or defend my position--whichever applies.  Mail your 
responses to--kitana85@hotmail.com

Hope you enjoy it!



Reunion  (© September 1, 1997)-- by Michelle Slaughter


*To this, to this, after my hope was lost,
To this strange victory;
To find you with the living, not the dead,
To find you glad of me;
To find you wounded even less than I,
Moving as I across the stricken plain;
After the battle to have found your voice
Lifted above the slain!*
			-- Edna St. Vincent Millay




		                   Prologue
	"In a few minutes, they were all in the skiff together, more or 
less in one piece; and for the first time, they looked at one another and  
realized they were all in the skiff together, more or less in one piece.   
There was a great, long moment of hugging, laughing, crying, beeping."   
--*novelization of ROTJ, by James Khan. *


	Leia went to Han, wrapping her arms firmly around him.  He 
crushed her against his chest, hardly believing she was real -- that any 
of this was real.  He'd thought he would never see her again when Vader 
dropped him into that infernal pit; but here she was now, in his arms and 
crying a few happy tears against his chest after having snatched him 
from the jaws of death.  He wondered how he'd ever gotten so lucky.  He 
just wished he could see her better...
	"Are you all right?" she was asking as she pulled back a little, 
checking him over to make sure he had no serious injuries.
	"I'm fine, Leia," he said, wondering how long it had been since 
he saw her last.  It felt like yesterday, but...  And maybe things had 
changed, especially if he'd been out of circulation for a long time.  "Are 
you okay?"  He put his hands on her shoulders, and he realized for the 
first time that her shoulders were bare.  He looked her over.  She was  
blurry to his readjusting eyes, but he could make out shapes and colors.  
And from what he could see, Leia's shoulders weren't all that was bare.  
	"I'm fine," she assured him.  Reaching out to caress his cheek, 
she added, "Now.  I'm fine *now*."
	He pulled her back up against him, holding her tightly, shielding 
her as best as he could from whatever evil was in the galaxy that might 
cause her harm.  When he lessened his hold a little, he cleared his 
throat and tried to ease his own tension and doubt by joking.  He chose 
Lando as his target.
	"Turn around and pilot this thing, Lando.  Quit staring back 
here," he said, making an exaggerated show of "shielding" Leia from 
Lando's gaze.
	Lando had known Han too long not to recognize a tension-
breaker when he heard it, so rather than act offended, he played along.  
"I thought you were blind," he said in mock-irritation.
	"I don't have to see you to know what you're lookin' at," Han shot 
back.
	Lando grinned at Leia and winked, and she could not help the 
chuckle that rose within her.  Han and Lando had gone back to being 
pals already although, to Han at least, Lando's betrayal had not been so
long ago.  Probably Chewie had filled Han in on all the things Lando had 
done to find his old friend and repay him for that betrayal.
	"Hey, kid," Han said to Luke, "how about finding the princess 
something to put over this outfit before she gets scorched by these two 
suns of yours."
	Luke found something resembling a cloak, made from Bantha 
hide judging by the hair, and handed it to Leia.  "We're all more likely to 
get *scratched* up," he told them ominously.  "Looks like there's a 
sandstorm not too far up ahead of us."
	"The perfect ending to a perfect day," Han muttered as he 
wrapped the cloak around Leia.  He was surprised when the princess 
looked up at him and said, for his ears alone, "It *is* a perfect day."  She 
leaned against his chest and murmured, "I got you back and Jabba is 
dead.  It is, indeed, a perfect day."
	Han's only answer was to wrap his arms around her again and 
hold her as if he'd never let go...

          			       *     *     *

	Han had been making a general nuisance of himself in the 
cockpit so, after grabbing a blanket to throw over her shoulders and hide 
the dancing "costume" Jabba had forced her to wear --  she had other 
names for what this particular garment could be called, and none of 
them were as polite -- Leia decided to go forward and try to coax him 
away from the controls for a little while.  At least until they were able to 
clear the system.  
	Leia sighed as she moved down the corridor.  Of course he was 
going to be difficult about this.  It was his ship, his baby, and he could 
not see well enough to pilot her himself.  He was probably going to be
miserable for the entire trip back to Sullust.  They were looking at four 
days of travel time, and Leia dreaded the mood Han would be in if he 
did not regain his eyesight enough by then to pilot his ship.  She was 
going to have to try to distract him.  
	She glanced down at her state of near-dress.  If he could see 
her, then it would not be quite so hard to distract him.  But then, if he 
could see, he would not need to be distracted in the first place.  He'd be 
able to pilot his ship.
	She reached the cockpit and heard Han arguing some minor 
point with Lando.  Both were quickly and sharply shushed by a growl 
from Chewie as he reached over for the comm switch.  He toggled it and 
Luke's voice was heard in the cockpit.  
	"I'll see you all at the rendezvous," he said, and Artoo chirped an 
affirmative behind him.
	"Hurry, Luke," Leia said gently.  "The fleet should be assembled 
by now."
	"I will," he promised.
	"Hey, Luke," Han said suddenly.  "Thanks.  Thanks for comin' 
after me.  I owe you one."
	Chewie growled a quick "Good luck," then they cut the 
transmission.  "Come on," Leia said quietly to Han.  "Let's get out of 
here, huh?"
	"What?  And leave this guy to pilot my ship?" Han demanded.
	Lando was about to make a retort, but Leia gave him a firm look 
and a slight shake of her head.  She was hoping he'd let it go, and he 
did, though he didn't look happy about it.  Leia then slipped an arm 
through Han's and pulled him gently toward the cockpit door.
	"Come on, Han.  You can't do anything here," she said softly.
	"Princess Leia is quite right, Captain Solo," Threepio added 
helpfully.  "Your eyesight is still not what it should be.  You can not 
possibly pilot the Falcon in your present condition."
	"Pipe down, Goldenrod, or you're gonna get to Sullust the same 
way you got to Bespin," Han threatened.  
	Theepio knew what he meant by that.  After Leia had shut 
Threepio down while Han tried to figure out where to go when he let go 
of that Star Destroyer outside the Hoth asteroid belt, Han had found that 
he enjoyed the peace and quiet so much that he all but begged Leia not 
to turn the droid back on again.  In the end, she agreed with him and left 
Threepio powered down until just before they reached the Bespin 
system.
	"Well, really!" Threepio huffed, turning to sit down in one of the 
crew chairs.
	"Han," Leia prodded gently, pulling at his arm again.  
	Han finally relented with a noisy sigh and let Leia lead him from 
the cockpit, one arm wrapped around his while she held his hand with 
her free one.  Once outside the door, he relaxed a little and twined his 
fingers with Leia's.  They walked slowly through the corridor back to the 
lounge, Han's free hand trailing over the bulkheads, caressing the ship 
like a lover.  Leia squeezed his arm a little as she noticed it, and she 
smiled up at him.  
	"If you're trying to make me jealous, it won't work," she told him.
	"You're not jealous of my first love?" Han asked.
	"Nope."
	"Why not?"
	Leia smiled slyly, wishing he could see it.  "Because I know I 
kiss better than she does," she said, pressing closer.
	Han chuckled.  "I don't know about that.  I've never asked her for 
a kiss," he teased, the crooked grin Leia loved so much spreading
across his handsome face.
	Leia pushed him down onto the gaming table's couch, then sat 
down next to him, her thigh pressed close to his.  "Are you all right?" she 
asked seriously, her voice concerned.  She caressed his brow, his 
cheek, marveling at the fact that he was alive and near her once more, 
that everything had worked and she had him back.
	He frowned.  "Sorta," he said.  "It's buggin' me that I can't fly the 
*Falcon*, though.  It's just too weird bein' a passenger on my own ship.  
And," here he paused, hesitant to go on, but he said finally, "it's buggin' 
me that I can't see you."
	"Not at all?" she asked softly.
	"Everything's real blurred," he told her.  "I can see your face, 
and because you got those big dark eyes, I can tell where they are, but I 
can't really make out any other details."  He reached to lay a hand on 
her cheek, and she pressed it closer with her own hand before turning 
her head slightly to lay a kiss in his palm.
	"Are you okay?" he asked softly, his near-blind eyes trying to 
search her face for some clue as to her well-being.  He had not stopped 
asking since they escaped from the sail barge.
	"I'm fine," she assured him.  "Besides being worried about you 
all this time, I've been alright."  
	His hand traveled to her neck, resting on the place where she 
had worn the slave collar Jabba had forced her to wear, and he rubbed 
gently at the soft flesh.  Chewie had removed the collar for her before 
they hit the sandstorm, and Leia had flung it with force into the Dune 
Sea to be buried by the drifting sand.  "That's not what I mean," he told 
her quietly.
	"I know what you mean," she returned.  "And I say again, I'm 
fine. Honestly.  Nothing happened, Han.  He kept me chained to him, he 
taunted me with the fact that he was going to kill you, but that was it."  
She reached to take his hand with her own and squeezed it gently as 
she said quietly, "Why don't you stop trying to protect me and let *me*
take care of *you* for a while?"
	Han was already shaking his head.  "Because," he told her.  "I 
promised you that I wouldn't let anybody hurt you again, and I didn't 
keep that promise."
	Leia raised her free hand to his face, smoothing back his hair as 
she smiled.  "I never expected that anyone would be able to.  Not even 
you."  He started to speak, but Leia gently pressed her fingers to his lips.  
"No, Han.  That wasn't a promise to be kept.  It couldn't be kept, no 
matter how much you wanted it to be.  Or how much I wanted it to be.  
Life doesn't work that way.  I thank you for wanting to keep that promise, 
and for trying as hard as you did.  But I don't blame you for the fact that 
it didn't work out the way we both wanted."  She gently brushed the back 
of her hand across his cheek.  "None of that matters now," she said 
softly.  "It's all in the past.  It's been a while."
	"How long?" he asked suddenly, unexpectedly.  "How long has it 
been, Leia?  Chewie wouldn't tell me, and I didn't get the chance to ask 
Luke."
	Leia hesitated, uncertain of whether or not she should tell him.  
How would he react to find out that he had lost the better part of a year 
to being imprisoned in carbonite?  The better part of a year hanging on 
Jabba's wall, a trophy for all to see?
	Han squeezed her hands.  "Please, Leia...just tell me.  I need to 
know.  I expect you, at least, to be honest with me.  I trust you to."
	Leia took a deep breath, biting her lower lip before she said, 
"About six months."
	Han dropped her hands, turned his face away and closed his 
eyes.  Six months.  Half a year.  Gone.  A chunk of his life that he'd 
never get back, that he had not even known he had lost.  Abruptly, he 
slid out from behind the gaming table and stood, then he crossed quickly 
to the console across the room and leaned on it heavily.  Six months?  It 
was a damn long time.  Time enough for Luke to grow up and become a 
Jedi.  Time enough for Lando to change allegiances and become a good 
guy.  And Leia?  How had she changed?
	"Han," she said, rising quickly from her seat and leaving the 
blanket behind.  She went to stand behind him, wishing she knew what 
to do to help him.  She placed a small hand on his back, caressed the 
tense muscles beneath his shirt.  She stood close to him, beside him, 
one hand smoothing over his back, the other resting on his arm.  She 
pressed a kiss against his shoulder, then rested her cheek there.  "I 
know it must be hard to hear that," she told him softly.  "I'm sorry.  I 
should have found some way to break it to you easier."
	"It's not your fault," he said, shaking his head.  He stood up 
suddenly, turned around to face her and framed her face in his hands.  
Gods, how he wished he could see her more clearly, could make out the 
details so expertly engraved into his memory.  He also wished his last 
memory of her face was not the pained look she'd worn when he was 
lowered into the carbon freezing chamber.
	"What happened to you?" he asked.  "After they froze me, what 
happened to you?" he asked, his eyes full of fear for her.
	"Oh, Han!  You mean Chewie didn't tell you everything?" she 
asked, suddenly realizing why the whole thing was so hard for him.  It 
was not just that six months had passed, but that it was six months in 
which anything could have happened to those he cared about.  She 
remembered suddenly that the last thing Han had known was that Luke 
was being lured into Vader's trap, and she and Chewie would be under 
Lando's guard.
	"It's all right," she whispered, moving to take him into her arms.  
	He squeezed her tightly, then released her.  "Tell me 
everything," he said.
	Leia laughed, to his surprise, and said, "No way, Captain.  
There's far too much that happened in the last six months for me to tell
you everything, but I'll sum it up for you if you walk me to your cabin so I 
can put on something decent."  She wrapped both her arms around his 
left one and smiled up at him.  "Is it a deal?"
	"If we walk real slow," Han answered.  "I want a long summary."
				
	"And that's pretty much it," Leia finished with a shrug.  "After 
that, we knew what we had to do to get you out, so we came after you.  
The rest of it you already know."
	Leia hit the access panel and the door slid open, but neither she 
nor Han started inside.  He was standing still, in fact, shaking his head.  
"Life never slows down around you, does it?" he asked with a smile.
	Leia pretended offense.  "What?  You think this is all *my* 
fault?" she asked, her hand going to her collarbone.
	"Well, I used to lead a nice calm, quiet life before I ran into 
you--"
	"I beg your pardon?"
	"So I can only assume it's your fault," he finished, grinning at her 
wickedly.
	"You tell such lies," Leia shot back, moving closer to him.  
"You're a pretty fresh kid, Solo.  Maybe I oughta I give you one," she 
joked, raising her fist just below his chin.
	"Take your best shot, sweetheart," he said, leaning closer.  
"Come on, princess.  Right here," he told her, tapping the scarred place 
on his chin.
	Leia raised up on the tips of her toes and planted her lips firmly 
against his.  When she finally pulled back, she looked up at him and 
asked, "Well?"
	Han cleared his throat and said, "That was a pretty good shot."  
When Leia smiled  at him, he added hastily, "Not great, but pretty good."
	Leia kissed him again.  She wrapped her arms around his neck 
and pressed the length of her body to his, one hand straying to play in 
his thick hair.  A moment later, Han's arms snaked around her waist and 
he was pulling her closer, as though he could somehow meld their 
bodies together, and he kissed her back, his lips working in conjunction 
with hers.  She sighed against him, glad for his response.  It felt so good 
to have his arms around her again, to feel his hands moving over her 
flesh.
	Leia pulled her mouth from his, laying tiny kisses over his chin 
and jaw, then down his neck.  "Come inside," she murmured.
	"Are you sure?" Han asked softly.
	Leia looked up at him and gave him a small smile.  "It *is* your 
cabin," she told him.  "I've just stored a couple of outfits there for the 
ride back to the fleet."  She pulled away slightly and took his hands, 
pulling him inside the darkened cabin with her.  When the door closed 
behind him, she pressed close again and said with a sly grin, "Besides, 
I'm going to need some help getting out of this thing."
	Han kissed her gently before he said, "Do something for me?"
	"Anything," Leia responded softly.  
	"Turn on the lights," he told her quietly.  He framed her face with 
his large hands again and said, "I want to see you.  As well as I can, 
anyway."
	Leia responded with a soft, lingering kiss, then she left him to 
turn the lights on.  She turned them to a dim setting, low enough to keep 
the mood, but bright enough that Han could see her.  "Is this all right?" 
she asked.
	Han watched her with his unclear eyes, saying only, "That's 
perfect."  
	He held out his hand to her and Leia returned to him, stripping 
off the bracelets on her arms as she did.  When she reached Han, she 
stood back from him a little so she could pull his shirt up enough to put 
her hands beneath, so she could feel the taut flesh over lean muscle. 
She pressed closer, laying a kiss on his neck, his collarbone.  He cupped 
the back of her head in his hand and closed his eyes for a moment, but 
he opened them immediately when he heard her voice whisper his name 
questioningly.  He looked down at her and she said, "Let me take this off 
you?"
	Han nodded, his voice gone for the moment, and he helped her 
tug the shirt over his head, then he quickly threw it aside.  
	Leia's hands were on him the moment his chest was bared, and 
she pressed more kisses against him, her fingers running through his 
chest hair...over his nipples...down his abdomen...
	"You feel so good.  I'd almost forgotten," she half-whispered, her 
voice choked.  "I wasn't sure I'd ever feel you in my arms again."
	Han placed a hand on her cheek again, and he was surprised to 
find that her face was wet.  
	Leia looked up at him, tried to explain.  "I thought I'd lost you.  I 
thought.... I thought I'd never get you back."
	Han wiped away her tears with gentle hands before he leaned 
down to kiss her firmly.  "I'm here, sweetheart," he murmured, his lips 
traveling to her ear.  "I'm here."
	"Hold me," she begged him in a whisper.  He tightened his arms 
around her as he nibbled her soft flesh, and she sighed with some 
measure of relief.  He was here, he was in her arms again.  All had not 
been lost.  Yes, he was here, alive, and warm, and perfect in form and 
shape.  Han, the smuggler and scoundrel.  *Her* scoundrel.  The Empire 
had tried to take him away from her, as they had taken away so many 
others that she had loved and cared for, but she'd had the chance to 
fight back this time, and fight back she did.  And she won.  She'd gotten 
him back, and she was not going to let him go any time soon.  If she had 
to personally strangle every gangster in the known universe, she'd see to 
it that no one took Han from her arms again.
	Leia's silent vow made her kisses more urgent, and she was 
soon kissing Han hungrily, lustily.  The force of her desire surprised him 
at first, but he reminded himself that it had been six months since they 
had last seen each other.  It might have felt like it was just yesterday to 
him, but it was clear that Leia did not share that feeling.  Her need for 
him was infectious, and it was not long before he needed her just as 
much, before he felt, as fully as she did, the time they had spent apart.
	That time was his worst obstacle at the moment, however.  
Remembering how long they had been apart made him wonder...doubt.  
Yes, she needed him.  But need was not love.  If anyone knew that, he 
did.  Maybe she did still love him, but that thought alone was not enough 
for him.  He felt a sudden need to hear her say so.  He needed to know 
for certain.  
	"Tell me you love me," he said huskily, looking down into her 
eyes.
	"I love you, Han," she whispered fiercely, letting the tears flow 
this time.  She held him tightly, whispering still, "Oh, yes!  I love you!"
	When she pulled his head down to hers, Han's doubts and 
questions vanished, burned away by the all-consuming fire of Leia's 
kisses.
	"Love me, Han," she murmured breathlessly, pulling her mouth 
away from his only enough to speak the words.  "Love me like it's been 
six months for you, too.  Love me like you were afraid you'd never see 
me again."
	She begged him with her eyes, even knowing that he couldn't 
see her.  She placed more kisses on his chin and around his mouth, 
murmuring the words, "Love me," over and over again.
	Han was more than willing to comply with her wishes, and he 
reached for the clasps on her costume.  She marveled at the fact even 
half blind he could still undress her expertly.  Quickly, the pieces of the 
slave garment fell away, and she was in Han's arms again, her lips 
captured by his while his hands freed her long hair from its golden clasps 
and quickly unbraided it.  When he had accomplished that, he focused 
his attention on the rest of her, his hands and mouth seeking out the still-
familiar curves of her body, bringing her to a swift arousal.  
	For her part, Leia did not hesitate to reach for the fastener of his 
trousers, to undress him so he stood as naked as she.  And though she 
wanted to desperately, she did not hesitate in her own exploration of his 
body.  Six months was too long.  She looked him over, her hands 
playing over familiar scars, and she knew now, more than ever, that she 
had to have him again.  She had to make love to him again.  Whatever 
happened tomorrow or in an eternity of tomorrows, she had to remind 
herself what it was like to have his body above hers...inside hers...
	A moment later, Leia felt the bunk beneath her back, and she 
welcomed Han down into her arms, welcomed the weight of his body on 
her own.  The feel of his warm skin next to hers drove her half-mad with 
desire, and she pulled at him, knowing even as she did so that she'd 
never get close enough to him.  She *couldn't* get close enough to him.  
She ran her palms over his strong back, across his slender hips.  She 
needed to touch him, to make sure he was real, not merely one of the 
dreams that had so cruelly visited her during these long, torturous 
months of wondering if she would ever get him back.  She kept her 
mouth next to his, her lips parted as she took in his breath, her tongue 
reaching to play over his own.  
	"Tell me again," Han said quietly, pulling back from her mouth 
only by centimeters.  His breath was coming in ragged, shallow gasps.
	"I love you, Han Solo," Leia said again, her teeth nipping gently 
at his flesh.  "By all the gods and stars in the universe, I love you."  Her 
teeth found his lower lip this time, and she caught it once, gently, before 
she whispered close to his mouth, her eyes staring up into his, "I love 
you."
	Han pushed his lips back down on top of hers, then pushed 
himself inside her with a gentle, slow movement of his hips.
	Leia gasped with pleasure, arching her back to help him in, 
trying not claw at his shoulders with her nails.  "Yes," she whispered, 
urging him onward.  "Oh yes, Han."  A moment later, she found his 
rhythm and matched it, her hips tilting toward him, her head thrown back 
in ecstasy.  
	Han rained kisses of white-hot fire down on her lips, her chin, 
her slender throat.  With the longing of a man who feared losing that 
which was most precious to him, he made love to his princess, urgently 
but slowly, trying to engrave every sweet second of it in his mind.  He 
made love to her...as though he would never get the chance to again.

	Leia stretched luxuriously, sliding one slim leg over her lover's 
while her hand played through the soft hairs on his chest.
	"Mmm," she hummed, resting her head on his shoulder.  "I *had*
forgotten."
	Han smoothed a hand over her long hair, then kissed the crown 
of her head.  "So had I," he said absently.  When she craned her neck to 
look at him, he smiled and said, "I'd forgotten how well you sap me of 
my strength.  And I'm not exactly at my strongest, you know."
	Dr. Dodonna had warned Leia of that.  Six months without 
movement in his limbs might cause Han's muscles to atrophy.  That was 
part of the reason he had not been able to stand on his own when he 
was first freed from the carbonite.
	"I just used muscles that haven't been worked in long time," Han 
was saying.  Cocking an eyebrow at her, he added in a falsley hurt 
voice, "And all I get from you is demands for me to work those muscles 
more."  He ran a hand over his abdomen and looked down at her with 
mock accusation.
	"Well," Leia said lightly, "Grace did say that the more exercise 
you give your muscles, the quicker they'd return to normal."
	Han tugged gently at her hair.  "Behave yourself," he 
admonished her.  "Try to remember that you're a princess."
	"Yes," Leia said with a laugh.  "And don't I look so thoroughly 
noble right now?" she finished wryly.
	Han stroked her cheek.  "You look beautiful," he said seriously, 
a small smile playing over his lips.
	Leia kissed his chest in answer, then worked her way up to his 
collarbone, his neck, around to his ear.  She slowly moved her leg up 
and down on his, caressed his chest as she kissed him longingly.
	"Then you *do* still love me, princess?" he asked huskily when
they broke apart.
	Leia pulled back, propping herself up on one elbow as she 
looked down at him.  "You can honestly ask me that?" she asked 
incredulously.  "After what just happened here?  And after I travel 
halfway across the galaxy to track down Boba Fett; after I get myself 
into Jabba's sorry excuse for a palace and let myself get captured by 
that fat slug--"
	"What?  Wait a minute--"
	"--and deal with being forced to wear that slave costume and 
being chained to that repulsive--
	"Whatdya mean 'let' yourself get captured?"
	"--disgusting creature; after I strangle him myself, all to save 
*your* butt," she said, poking his chest with her finger, "you can honestly 
lie there and ask me if I still love you?"
	"Stop, Leia," Han said, holding up a hand.  "Whatdya mean you 
let yourself get captured?  What's all this about?"
	Leia half frowned at him.  "Han Solo, I'm a student of Harlan 
Dryvers, the best self-defense and martial arts instructor in this or any 
other galaxy, *and* I'm a Rebel leader.  I've fought quite a few battles 
myself, and I led the liberation of the Galayshan prisoner of war camp 
not more than a year and a half ago.  Don't you think I could've gotten in 
and out of Jabba's place without getting captured if I wanted to?  That if I 
was captured, it was because I did it on purpose?" she asked.
	"Well, now that you mention it, yeah.  I do think so," Han said 
seriously.  "So I guess the question is; why?"
	Leia's expression softened and she explained.  "We couldn't 
move you out of there until we had you out of the carbonite.  And we 
knew that you wouldn't be in any shape to travel, much less fight, once 
you were freed."
	"Wait," Han interrupted.  "How did you know what kinda shape 
I'd be in?"
	"The Empire," Leia said softly, "decided that freezing prisoners
in carbonite was a good way to ship them to wherever they needed to go 
without risk of them escaping.  After they took over Cloud City, that's 
basically all they did with the place."  
	She winced inwardly as Han suppressed a shudder.  It had to be 
difficult for him to hear all of this.  But she knew it was better to tell him 
as much as possible right now.  Han was an adaptable man, and the 
more time she gave him to adapt to this news the better.  He needed the 
chance to gather himself together before they made the rendezvous with 
the fleet, and Leia was determined that she was going to do whatever 
she could to help him to that point.
	"We intercepted some of their transports," she continued when 
he looked like he could stand to hear more.  "Dr. Dodonna followed the 
progress of those we were able to get hold of.  The last one we saved 
was very shortly before we were able to get to you.  He'd been frozen 
about a month after you were, so he'd been in about five months...longer 
than anyone else we snatched away from them.  That's when the muscle 
atrophy and temporary blindness started to show pretty badly.  Dodonna 
knew roughly, from watching him, how long it would take for the 
blindness to recede and the muscles to be restored."
	Han nodded.  "Do you know who it was?" he asked, not sure he 
wanted to hear this.  
	Leia nodded.  "We knew quite well," she said.  "In fact, it's one 
of the reasons we went after him."  She was silent a moment before she 
said, "It was Damon Ter."
	Ter.  An Alderaanian.  He had deserted the Imperial Navy after
the holocaust of Alderaan and made his way to Yavin to offer his 
services to the Rebellion.  Leia had been fond of him, almost protective.  
His past in the Navy made him suspect in everyone else's eyes, but Han 
had been almost proud of Leia for the fact that she treated him without 
any prejudice.  They had become friends, in fact.  Ter had been 
reassigned to another cell for more dangerous work just before Hoth, 
and Han had never known what happened to him.  He'd never thought 
Ter would have gotten himself captured. 
	"Why Damon?" Han asked.  "Why didn't they be kinder to him 
and just execute him?"
	"His former commanding officer wanted to deal with him 
personally," Leia explained.  "He ordered Damon frozen so he could be 
sent to him, then he planned to unfreeze Damon and torture him at his 
leisure.  All in all, he did give him a kinder fate.  We got him back, after 
all," she said.
	Han nodded.  "Go on with what you were saying about getting 
me out of Jabba's.  Why were you the one to get me out of that block, 
and get captured in the process?"
	Leia smiled down at him.  "I wanted it that way."  At his 
bewildered look, she told him, "We figured Jabba would go easier on a 
woman who might pleasing to his eye.  He might have just killed a man 
without a second thought."
	"Do you have any idea what kind of things Jabba was capable 
of?" Han demanded. He was upset to find out that Leia had put herself in 
such jeopardy to save his life.
	"Besides," Leia said without acknowledging his sudden outburst, 
"I wanted to be the one who saw you first.  And I wanted my voice to be 
the first friendly one you heard."
	Han caressed her cheek, brushed loose hair from her face, his 
anger forgotten.  How could he fault her for being what she was, for 
being so naturally brave?  It was just Leia's nature, and one of the many 
things he loved about her.  He could not help but feel that she had risked 
too much, though.  Too much for a man who was just a former smuggler 
and rough-around-the-edges scoundrel.  "You shouldn't--" he began.
	Leia's fingers were suddenly pressed to his lips, her voice soft 
and her touch reassuring as she told him, "I wanted it that way, Han.  
Would you have done any less for me?"  When he looked away instead 
of answering, Leia smiled.  "And there you have it," she told him gently.  
"As many times as you've come to my aid, I saw no reason why I 
shouldn't do the same for you.  I love you after all."
	"I know that," Han said, stroking her cheek gently.  "Still--" he 
protested.
	" 'Still' nothing, " Leia interrupted firmly.  "It was the best way for 
us to do it, and I wanted to be there for you when you came out of the 
carbonite.  Besides, with Luke arriving the very next morning, we knew it 
wasn't going to be too dangerous.  Jabba was going to want time to 
figure out what to do with the two of us.  Lando even figured--"  At this 
point, she paused, suppressing the shudder of revulsion that rose in her 
at the thought.  "He figured Jabba would save me for when you were 
well enough to see better, that way he could..."
	"He could torture me by forcing me to watch whatever he 
planned for you," Han finished for her.
	Leia nodded.  "I'd have probably wound up as rancor food," she 
said.  "Threepio said Jabba had just killed off a girl that way, in fact."  
She shook her head.  "It doesn't matter.  He's dead now, and that's the 
end of it."
	Han looked at her questioningly.  "Did you really strangle him?" 
he asked incredulously.
	Leia nodded again.  "With the chain he put around my neck," 
she told him.
	Han shook his head in disbelief and admiration for the small 
princess in his arms.  Jabba had kept her near him for her beauty, never 
realizing that he was keeping the instrument of his death bound and 
chained to him.  The Hutt had been a fool to think that, because of her 
large, soulful eyes and her slight frame, Leia would be no threat to him.  
He had underestimated her strength of spirit...and evidently the strength 
of her arms.  But then, Leia understood the laws of physics and the 
concept of leverage versus mass, proving that Jabba also 
underestimated Leia's intelligence.  All in all, Han couldn't imagine 
Jabba ever having a more deadly foe...and he had kept her at his side, 
thinking she was just another plaything.  *Poor, foolish Jabba*, Han 
thought.  *I wonder if he even knew what hit him.*
	"You know," he told Leia, running one hand up and down her 
back in a soft, slow caress, "half the galaxy's been tryin' to kill Jabba off 
for more than three years.  You accomplished what everybody else has 
wanted to do to him after just two days."
	"Well," she said, laying her head back down on his broad chest, 
"he took you away from me."  She wrapped her arm around his body 
protectively, squeezing slightly.  "And that really ticked me off," she 
explained.  
	"Then how did I ever survive three years of fighting with you and 
constantly ticking you off?" he asked with a chuckle.
	"Oh, with you it was just little things," she told him.  "You never 
did anything that made me want to kill you.  Besides, whenever I got 
really mad at you, you'd just give me one of those drop-dead sexy 
smiles and a scorching look, and then I'd have to go hide in my quarters 
so nobody else would see how you'd affected me."  She smiled and 
kissed the hard shoulder beneath her head before she continued.  "By 
the time I was finally able to compose myself and look like you hadn't 
gotten to me, I had usually forgotten what I was mad at you about to 
begin with."
	At this he laughed outright, hugging her closer.  She craned her 
neck to receive the kiss he set on her full lips, her arm curving up 
around his neck.  They continued kissing for a long time after that, Han's 
hands moving with slow, intimate ease over her body and through her 
hair.  
	Leia raised herself up beside him, then on top of him, and she 
returned his caresses measure for measure, awakening his body all over 
again.  She took her time now, being patient enough to slowly reacquaint 
herself with every centimeter of Han's lean, hard form, her lips following 
her hands as she moved over him.  He tangled his hands in her hair, 
letting her move as slowly as she wanted, hoping he could find enough 
strength in himself to make love to her again, and he said as much. 
	"Don't worry, Captain," she teased, her teeth nipping gently at 
his earlobe.  "I'll do all the work this time."  She grinned wickedly at him 
before she kissed him again, and Han marveled at this woman he loved 
so much, this woman who was so different from the one who was 
snatched from his arms just days ago, it seemed.
	Leia continued with her slow exploration of the Corellian's body 
beneath hers, willing to take all the time in the universe because she 
knew that he was enjoying it as much as she was.  But when he 
suddenly shivered, she knew instinctively that it wasn't from desire or 
passion.  Worried for him, she looked at him and noticed the expression 
on his face.  "Are you cold?" she asked, the concern in her voice coming 
through clearly.
	Han answered by saying only, "I'm not sure I'll ever feel warm 
again."
	Leia kissed his lips gently, lingering over his mouth.  "Let me 
see if I can't help," she murmured softly, kissing him deeper.
	Han tightened his arms about her slim body.  "If you can't," he 
half-whispered, "then nobody can."  
	"I'll take that as a challenge," she declared, laying a trail of 
kisses across his chest and down his abdomen.  His stomach quivered 
beneath her lips, and she smiled up at him, openly delighted with his 
reaction, then she dipped her head back down to kiss and nibble that 
area again.  She slowly pressed tiny kisses all around his navel while her 
hands brushed ever so lightly over his thighs, then she moved lower...  
	Han groaned softly and closed his eyes tightly, his neck arching 
as his head pressed further back into the pillow.  A few moments ago he 
had joked about having enough strength for this, now he prayed for it, 
begged for it in his mind.
	*Gods of my fathers, give me strength enough!* he exclaimed 
silently.  A second later, Leia's lips burned all coherent thought from his 
mind and he gave himself up completely to the sweet madness of desire 
and the princess's ministrations.  
	And this time, he was the one begging for more.

	Han propped his head up on one elbow so he could peer down 
at the princess sleeping beside him, her breathing deep and rhythmic.  
Her long hair was piled up above her head, fanning out over the pillow.  
There was the slightest of smiles on her angelic face, Han realized.  She 
was still blurry to him, but not by half as much as she had been a few 
hours ago when they boarded the *Falcon*.  Han was grateful for that.  
He'd wanted to see her better since her voice first came to his ears at 
Jabba's palace, piercing through the darkness that engulfed him, lighting 
it with the brilliance of a thousand stars.  Leia.  Beautiful, strong, daring 
Leia.  His amazing, lovely princess.  To finally be able to make out her 
features made Han feel as if everything would be all right.  At first, 
anyway.  But then...
	At first, he'd been content with the sensation of touch alone, with 
being able to feel her warm, slim body next to his, her back pressed 
against his chest, his knees crooked behind hers, his arm wrapped 
around her waist and her fingers twined with his.  As she had fallen into 
a deeper sleep, her hand relaxed to the point that their fingers were no 
longer entwined, so Han satisfied himself with lightly running that hand 
over her body, applying tender, skillful caresses in a leisurely fashion. 
Not to wake her, but more to aid her in sleeping peacefully.
	And the longer he looked at her, the more certain he was that 
she needed that sleep.  Even with his imperfect vision he could see the 
dark circles beneath her eyes, the paleness of her skin, the thinness of 
her frame.  Had she really been so affected by his imprisonment as a 
living statue for Jabba?
	*And can you still be asking that after tonight?* he asked
himself.  *How can you?*
	How could he, indeed?  Leia had said it countless times this 
afternoon -- and this night, Han thought, reminding himself of the hour, 
for it was, in truth, only minutes away from being morning -- she loved 
him.  She honestly and truly loved him.  And despite his cocky attitude 
and his reply of, "I know," when she had cried out that declaration to him 
on Bespin, Han really was not sure what to do now.  It had been so long 
since he let himself fall in love with anyone, much less accepted 
someone else's love for him.  He was uncertain how to handle the 
situation.  He only knew that he didn't want it to end, and he was going to 
have to find some way of staying in Leia's life, and keeping her in his.  
He knew only that he could not bear the thought of her walking away 
from him now, and he'd do whatever it took to keep her from doing so.
	Leia stirred in his arms, stretching her legs and drawing a deep 
breath.  Her eyes fluttered open and she turned her head to look up at 
Han.  A bright smile spread slowly over her beautiful face.
	"Hi, sweetheart," Han murmured as he bent to kiss her.
	"Hi yourself, Captain," she said back, shifting onto her back so 
she could put her left arm around his neck.  When their lips finally 
parted, Leia passed her fingers lightly over his jaw, looking at him with 
worried eyes.  "Haven't you slept at all?" she asked.
	"Sweetheart, I've had enough inactivity to last me a good long 
while," he answered wryly.  "When I get tired enough, I'll go to sleep."
	Leia turned again, this time so she was facing her lover.  "And 
you said you weren't sure you'd have strength enough to last the night 
with me," she teased, her eyes sparkling now.  "You certainly exhausted 
me."
	Han ran a hand through the silken mass of hair on the pillow.  
"You needed the sleep," he said quietly.  At Leia's surprised look he 
added, "My vision is still pretty rotten, but it's good enough to see a few 
things."  He traced the tip of his index finger beneath one dark eye, 
looked at her face critically.
	"Makeup," she replied glibly.  "Jabba insisted, after all.  It's just a 
little smeared, now.  That's all it is."
	"Liar," he said gently.
	Leia caught his hand and drew it closer to her face, then turned 
her head to place a searing kiss in his palm.
	"That's not gonna work," Han said gruffly.  "You're not gettin' out 
of this with a few simple kisses, princess."
	Leia's next kiss was against his mouth, her lips parting his as 
she pressed her body closer, and her arms wound around him.  She 
brushed her nails lightly down the back of his neck, and he shivered, 
much to her delight.  She could not help the chuckle that escaped her, 
and she smiled at him as he broke the kiss.
	"Oh, you are devious, princess," he muttered, trying to look 
grim, but Leia only laughed quietly.  "All right," he said, touching her lips 
with his own once more.  "We'll finish this argument later."  He pulled 
her close, but he only stared down at her for a long moment, his eyes 
devouring her.  If he spent the rest of his life looking at her, he imagined, 
he would still never tire of it.  She was, as he had told her, the most 
beautiful woman he had ever met, as well as the strongest, the fiercest, 
and the most compassionate.  That she had survived so many 
heartbreaks told Han that the Empire would never succeed in crushing 
her the way they wanted to.  That she had been forced to bear the pain 
of those heartbreaks made Han want to do something damaging to the 
Empire in turn, to keep his promise to Leia and see to it that no one was 
allowed to hurt her again.  She would probably despise the idea of Han 
getting protective of her -- she was too strong to accept anyone else's 
protection -- but he was not going to let that stop him.
	"Well, Captain," Leia said quietly, "are you warm enough now?  
Or do I need to try again?"
	"I'm almost warm enough," he told her.  He quickly rolled her 
onto her back, placing his body over hers, and then he added with a 
wicked grin, "If I'm gonna get warm, I better be the one to get the 
exercise.  Gotta work those ab muscles anyway."
	Laughing with him, Leia twined her body around his, then she 
closed her eyes and gave herself up to his fiery kisses and maddening 
caresses, wishing -- as she had on the way to Bespin -- that this one 
night would last forever.  She reminded herself that they had four days 
before they would reach Sullust.  But she had already decided that if she 
and Han never left his bed it would be too soon.  Four days seemed only 
a minute.  
	Leia wanted Eternity.  
	She knew it was selfish, but she did not care.  For all the rest of 
that night -- or was it morning already? -- there was no Rebel fleet 
waiting for their arrival, no war waiting to happen just outside the cabin 
door, no Empire to fight or wrongs to be righted.  There was only this 
room, this man, and the all-enveloping sweetness of a true, passionate 
love that could last forever if the gods would just allow it to.
	And the silent prayers of a young princess that they would deign 
to do so.

	Four days had been at once too little and too much for Leia.  
Too little because there were not enough hours in the night for 
lovemaking and sleeping both, so she and Han had often forgone the 
sleeping part all together.  Too much because Leia was certain that the 
lack of sleep was going to affect her judgment badly and it would show 
once they reached the Rebel fleet; because she was uncertain how 
much more punishment either of their bodies could take; and because 
there was the realization that came with each morning that the closer 
they got to the fleet, the more likely it was one of them might die within 
the next few days.  And she could not bear that thought.  Not for herself, 
of course, for she had developed the unfortunate habit of no longer 
fearing death -- unfortunate because that kind of attitude was what killed 
so many soldiers.
	Rather, she was afraid for Han.  Not that he had said that he 
was going to stay with the Rebellion to the end, nor did he give her a 
reason to believe that he wanted to.  She knew only that she feared his 
leaving, that she would likely kill herself before letting him go again, and 
she believed he did not wish to leave her.  So, she thought he would 
stay -- for a little while, at least.  And if he stayed, he would fight.  
	And that frightened her.  Death was the usual outcome for 
soldiers of the Rebellion.  She caught up with them all, eventually.  Han 
had cheated Death plenty of times, and she had his number, now.  For 
her, it was just a matter of time.  She was waiting for the perfect 
moment, for just the right time to take him into her icy embrace.  
	*I couldn't take it*, Leia thought as she lay beside him that final 
morning of the trip.  *I couldn't possibly bear to lose him, too!  Especially 
not now.  Dear gods, not now.  Not ever!  Let me be the one to die, not 
him.  I couldn't go on living if he died...not really living.  I've lost 
everyone else...don't take him, too.*
	It wasn't accurate, she reprimanded herself, to say that she had 
lost everyone.  Jhavid Khan was still alive and well on Tsuran, as was 
Mattheu Chaunders on Garon IV.  They were both dear friends whom 
she loved like brothers, and she could not be happier that they still lived.  
And there were other friends; Winter, Lisa, Jhavid's sister Safiye, Damon 
Ter, Grace Dodonna, Carlist Rieekan, Chewie, Luke...even Lando had 
become a friend in the last six months, after much atonement for what 
he had done.
	But Leia could name just as many friends who had died...could 
name more, in truth.  Marie-Helene's name came to mind instantly, as 
did Alexa Doruggan's.  Both were childhood friends.  She couldn't forget 
Cassandra Terramoss, either, the young girl who had practically been a 
sister to Han and a friend to all the Rebels of the Halashan base.  Borus, 
Carlin, Dagg, Morrel, Rolkins, Xent -- soldiers all, but friends as well.  
To this day she had no idea what had happened to her mother's 
sister, Kessia, the vicereine of Dahnash, but she was presumed dead  
since no one seemed to know where she was or if she was safe.  And 
there was, of course, the cruelest blow of all, the deaths of her 
mother and father... 
	And there was also the memory of Alixander Gavin.  Her first 
love.  Murdered by the Imperials not quite three years ago.
	Leia held Han protectively at this thought.  Losing Alix had 
crushed her.  Losing Han would kill her.  Her love for him was more 
powerful than it had been for Alix, more powerful than it had been for 
anyone.  He had become the center of her universe, and she could not 
lose that.  Like any orbiting body, she too would die without the warmth 
of the sun around which she gravitated.  No, she could not lose him.  
	For these four days, Leia had been content to bask in the 
radiance of Han's love and his lovemaking, forgetting that there was 
anything beyond the walls of this ship he loved even more than her.  For 
this all too brief trip, there had been nothing of any substance to Leia 
other than Han and the long hours of the past few nights during which 
they talked to and held each other.  It had been beautiful... glorious.  The 
gentleness of those hours pervaded through the deep cold wall Leia had 
long ago built to protect her heart from further injury, making her realize 
again why she loved this man so much.  Even the waking hours had not 
broken the spell, for there had been -- whether by their own ideas of 
decency or by threat from Han, Leia was not certain which --  no sly 
remarks meant to hurt or embarrass either of them ever made by Lando 
or Chewie.  Both of them seemed to act as though there was nothing 
different happening around them, and that allowed Leia to be 
comfortable about showing Han her affection in a public setting.  
Everything had been as close to perfect as it could possibly be during 
this trip.
	But in six hours, perhaps less, they would reach Sullust, and 
War would be at Leia's door again, Lady Death standing behind him to 
take away a few more of Leia's friends.  Waiting to pay back all those 
who had cheated her in the past...
	Leia pressed closer to Han, holding him more tightly as she 
buried her face in his chest and pleaded that whatever gods or 
goddesses existed in the universe would be willing to spare Han's life 
again.
	*Take me*, she thought desperately. *But please don't take 
him...*
	"Sweetheart?"  he asked sleepily.  Han stirred beside her, 
awakening with the urgency of her embrace.  His arms went around her 
instantly, protectively, and he hugged her close.  "What is it?" he 
whispered into her hair, his lips brushing lightly over her crown.
	"Nothing," she lied, knowing even as she did so that it was a 
lame answer, and that he was unlikely to believe it, but she did not know 
what else to say.  
	"Nothing?" he asked quietly, disbelieving -- just as she knew he 
would be.  "Nothing?  Come on, sweetheart," he coaxed her gently, 
quietly.  "I know better than that.  Tell me.  Let me help."  He kissed her 
hair again, one hand smoothing over the silken strands, caressing her 
shoulder and her back.  "Talk to me, honey."
	Leia pulled back enough so she could tilt her face up toward 
him, and she tried to sound convincing as she said, "I just don't want this 
trip to end.  I don't want either of us to have to leave this room again."
	It did sound convincing, and Leia knew it did so because what 
she told him was, in a sense, the truth.  She did not want it to end, did 
not want to leave the cabin.  She wanted to stay right here, in Han's bed, 
with him safely wrapped in her arms where no harm could come to him, 
where Lady Death could not lure him away from her.  
	Han grazed his lips lightly over her crown once more, speaking 
softly into her hair.  "Or maybe you don't want it to end for other 
reasons?" he asked quietly.
	"What reasons?" she countered, not looking at him, trying to 
keep him from guessing the truth.  But even she felt that it was hopeless 
gesture on her part.
	Han laughed shortly, wryly.  "Sweetheart, I remember more 
vividly than you do how our last trip together ended, and it wasn't 
pleasant for either of us," he told her.
	*He knows*, she thought with some despair.  *He knows I'm 
afraid for him.*
	"It's gonna be okay, honey," he told her confidently.  "Don't worry 
about me.  You just concentrate on taking care of yourself, okay?"  He 
held her tighter, his hands smoothing over her back in long soft 
caresses.  "You hear me, sweetheart?"
	Leia nodded, cuddling close to him, content to just lie next to 
him and soak in the warmth of his body, to revel in the feel of his hands 
gently roaming over her own form.  Yes, she could definitely stay here 
forever, never tiring of this beautiful, warm moment.  And she could only 
hope that Han was right, that things would work out as they should, and 
that this would be only one of many such moments between them in the 
future.
	"You ready to get up and get something to eat?" Han asked 
quietly.  
	Leia closed her eyes.  "Do we have to?" she asked in return.
	Han tilted her face up towards him so he could kiss her lips 
softly, murmuring against them, "No, not just yet."  He kissed her 
forehead, smiling slightly as he told her, "Not if you don't want to."
	She looked back up at him, taking comfort in the thought that he 
could see her now, his eyesight having finally returned to normal three 
days ago.  He had been more relaxed ever since, glad to finally have the 
chance to fly his ship and stare longingly at his princess.  She stroked 
his cheek softly, grazed her fingertips over his lips reverently.
	"No," she sighed contentedly.  "Not yet.  I just want to stay here 
a while.  But we don't have a lot of time, so I suppose we should go 
ahead and drag ourselves out of bed."
	She started to pull away, but Han tightened his arms and drew 
her back to him, saying lightly, "Now hold on a minute, sweetheart.  
We've got some time still.  We've got about..." he craned his neck to 
look at the chrono on the small bedside table, "six more hours.  Minus 
ten minutes for you to shower, and ten minutes for me to shower, and 
about thirty minutes for us to eat.  That leaves us about five hours and 
ten minutes.  Figure in about..."  He silently ticked some figures off on 
his fingers and said, "About fifteen minutes -- and that's being generous 
-- to get everything prepared for docking with the fleet.  That still leaves 
us with about..."  He raised his hand, touching each finger to his thumb 
in turn as he counted out the total.  "...four hours and fifty-five minutes," 
he said at last.  "all that time to just lie around if we want.  Or," he said 
slowly, grinning down at her, "we could find other ways to fill the time if 
you can think of something."
	Leia was shaking her head with a smile, wagging a finger at him.  
"Oh, no you don't," she declared.  "You know all too well that neither of 
us has had a lot of sleep, and if we make love again we'll be too 
exhausted to do anything *but* sleep.  Better we get out of bed now."
	Han framed her face with his hands, then kissed her deeply, 
firmly.  When their lips parted, Leia drew a deep breath, opening her 
eyes to look at him.  "No way," she said at last.  "Not this time.  Uh uh."  
She pulled away from him and sat up in bed, holding the sheet close to 
her.  "You win every argument now by doing that," she said with a smile, 
shaking her head.  "Not this time, Captain.  I'm going to go grab a 
shower," she told him.
	"In case you hadn't noticed, sweetheart," he said, a slow grin 
spreading over his handsome face as he tucked his hands behind his 
head, "there's a wall on your side of the bed.  I gotta *let* you out of 
here."  He smiled at her, a challenging expression on his face as he 
watched her.
	Leia shot him a falsely sweet look, one eyebrow raised, then slid 
to the end of the bed and climbed off, pulling the sheet with her and 
wrapping it around herself.
	"Damn," Han joked with a snap of his fingers.  "I knew there was 
something I was forgetting about."
	Grabbing a uniform from the closet, Leia said only, "Never 
underestimate my ingenuity, Han."  Her smile was brilliant when she 
turned to him, and he smiled back at her, laughing lightly.
	"So, princess," he said, still grinning at her, "want me to join 
you?  You know, in the interest of conserving water and all?"
	Leia laughed outright, shaking her head in amusement.  As she 
brushed her hair from her face she told him, "I sincerely doubt that you 
joining me in the shower would do anything to conserve water.  More 
likely you'd see to it the water was being wasted."
	"Now what makes you so sure?" he asked in mock indignation.  
"You've never taken me up on the offer.  How do you know what I'm like 
in the shower?  For all you know, I might be very efficient back-
scrubber."
	"Let's just say," she told him, her eyes traveling over his nude 
frame with frank admiration, "that I'm making an educated guess."
	"A hunch?  You?" he asked in exagerrated surprise.
	She nodded slowly.  "Think I could be right about this?" she 
asked.
	Han seemed to consider this as he propped himself up on one 
elbow, his own eyes raking over her as if the sheet were not there.  Then 
he screwed up his face and shook his head as he fell back among the 
pillows saying, "Nah."
	Leia laughed and moved beside him to drop a quick kiss on his 
mouth, then she picked up her uniform and left the cabin.  She wished, 
as the door closed behind her, that she *had* told him to join her.  After 
all, who really knew what would happen after the next five hours.  *And 
fifty-five minutes*, she added without thinking about it.  She could not 
help but smile at that, thinking that Han had certainly managed to get 
under her skin.  Three years ago she would have done everything in her 
power to deny that, but now she wanted to shout out that she loved him.  
She loved this smuggler, this scoundrel, this prince of pirates.  And she 
thought somehow, though she did not know why exactly, that her parents 
would have approved.  
	Leia reminded herself of something she had thought four days 
ago when she had just gotten Han back after six months of fearing for 
his life; that it did matter what happened tomorrow or in an eternity of 
tomorrows...the present was what counted.  Tomorrow was too 
uncertain.  She had to live for the present, enjoy what she had while she 
still could, and tomorrow be damned.  Beyond that, all she could do was 
hope...

				 *     *     *

				  Epilogue
	"Get up on the table and take off your shirt," Dr. Dodonna said 
briskly.
	Han pretended shock.  "Grace!  I hardly think we know each 
other well enough," he was saying, his hands crossed over his chest in a 
protective gesture.
	Grace Dodonna was not impressed.  Frowning at him, she said 
with near-believable iciness, "I should remind you, Solo, that you're on 
my turf now, and at my mercy.  Nobody will hear you scream if I don't 
want them to."
	Grinning at her, Han removed his shirt and allowed her to 
examine him with the many scanners and medical instruments she 
pressed against his bare skin, all without much more teasing.  She was 
surprised that he had healed so well in such a short amount of time, 
even after having been forced to fight his way out of Jabba's clutches.  
His healing factor was, she said, tremendous.  Thinking of Garris Shrike 
and all he had gone through growing up under the other man's thumb, 
the Corellian said only, "I've had a lot of practice with healing quick."
	Grace glanced up into his momentarily unguarded eyes and 
muttered, "Somehow, I don't doubt that."  For Han's sake she added, 
"Not with all the scars you've gained."
	Han smiled wryly.  Grace was no fool.  She knew.  She could tell 
the difference between his manufactured scars and the real ones.  True, 
the differences were subtle, even to the trained eye, but Grace Dodonna 
had not become the Alliance's chief medical officer because she was 
mediocre.  Grace was the best, and that was all there was to it.
	"How are your eyes?" she asked.  "Any blurring?  Spots?  
Fading of vision?"
	"Nope."
	"No relapses?"
	"Uh uh."
	She raised her hand, holding her index finger up, and asked, 
"How many fingers am I holding up?"
	Han couldn't resist.  "Which one of you?" he asked, squinting.
	Grace frowned at him again, giving him her practiced "angry 
doctor" look and said, "Remember what I told you about being on my 
turf.  You don't want me to make this a full examination, do you?  Aren't 
you about ready for one anyway?  A nice, thorough, embarrassing 
exam?"
	Han held his hands up in defense and said quickly, "All right, all 
right.  I'll behave."
	When Grace had satisfied herself that he was in good health 
and told him he could put his shirt back on, he decided he had better ask 
her what he had been thinking about before she got really irritated with 
him and kicked him out.
	"So, what's going on around here that I should know about?" he 
asked, hoping she would give him a straight answer.
	"How should I know?" she returned innocently.
	"Oh, come on, Grace.  Tell me.  You're an old war-horse's 
niece," Han said.  "They tell you what's goin' on around here."
	"Haven't you ever heard of doctor-patient confidentiality?" Grace 
asked him sourly.
	"That doesn't count for what you're told at the sabacc table," Han 
said, leaning casually against the exam table and grinning at her.
	Grace looked him straight in the eye.  "Why?" she asked.  "You 
finally looking to stick around?"
	It was the first time since he had known her that Grace had ever 
made Han feel guilty about anything.  Maybe she had not meant to do it, 
but she did.  
	"Actually, I am," Han said quietly, his casual demeanor gone.  
"Don't you think it's about time I did?"
	Dodonna's expression softened slightly and she sighed.  
"Personally, no.  I think you should get the hell out of here while you're 
still alive.  You and everybody else here," she said quietly.
	"Then why did you ever start fighting the Imps to begin with?" 
Han asked, amazed by her statement.  But then, she was a doctor.  Her 
mission was to preserve lives, and she desperately wanted to do that.  
All in all, he should not have been surprised.
	Grace had lost precious few patients before she came to the 
Alliance, but working with few, or sometimes *no* medical supplies 
meant that she was not always able to win in her personal war against 
death.  She still saved more lives under worse circumstances than any 
other doctor the Alliance had, but it was the ones she lost that she 
remembered best.  A few of them had been friends...
	"For the same reasons everybody else here did.  Revenge, 
mostly," she said.  "And why do I still fight after the revenge factor isn't 
enough?  Again, for the same reasons everybody else does; because it's 
the right thing to do."  She looked at him for a long moment before she 
finally said, "You know it would devastate the princess if you get yourself 
killed."
	Han did marvel this time at her perception.  She had the sharp 
eyes of any skilled surgeon, and so it made sense that she would notice 
all the little things no one else did.
	"Then I better be careful, huh?" Han asked.  "Make sure I pick 
the right mission -- something that I know I can handle?"
	Grace pursed her lips for a moment and ran a hand through her 
short, graying hair.  After a long minute of silence she said, "We're going 
up against another Death Star, though it isn't complete yet.  They're 
looking for somebody to handle a ground assault and somebody else to 
lead a fighter assault.  The fighters will fly into this thing and attempt to 
knock out the main reactor."  She went on to tell him what details she 
knew about it, and the factor of difficulty involved.
	Han remembered Lando's battle at Taanab when he had 
completely wiped out a group of bandits from Norulac, all on a bet.  This 
sounded like something he could pull off, he told Grace.
	She nodded and said, "Drop his name to Admiral Ackbar, then."
	"Ackbar," Han muttered, trying to place the name.
	"Calamarian," Grace said.  "He's a good strategist.  The best we 
have, in fact."
	Han nodded thoughtfully.  "What about this ground assault you 
mentioned?"
	Grace frowned at him.  "Highly dangerous," she said.  
"According to what Ackbar told me, the new Death Star is shielded.  The 
generator's on some moon, and the shield has to come down before the 
fighters have a chance of attacking.  They want to land a strike team on 
the moon using a stolen Imperial shuttle, and the strike team gets to 
take out the shield bunker."
	That sounded perfect.  Han had broken into more places than he 
could remember.  He could handle that part of the mission without any 
problem, he knew.  And Leia had said he was a natural leader.  Rieekan 
had told him he was good in a fight.  Maybe the officer heading up this 
daring little plan would think the same way.
	"Who's handling it?" he asked.
	"Corellian by the name of Madine," Grace said.  "I just met him 
last week.  He's a little stiff, but he's tough and he's got brains.  He 
knows what he's doing."  As Han was nodding, Grace asked, "Do you?"
	Han straightened up and pulled his vest on over his shirt as he 
said, "Grace, these people have done a hell of a lot for me.  It's about 
time I earned their friendship and repaid them for what they've done for 
me."  He stood very still and said to her in his most serious tone, "Yeah.  
I'm sure about this."
	Grace sighed and said, "Do me a favor then.  Keep yourself 
alive.  Leia's been through enough already.  She doesn't need to lose 
you a second time."  She paused only a moment before she added, in 
typical fashion, "It isn't good for her health."
	Han bent to kiss the middle-aged woman's cheek and said, 
"Thanks for the information Grace, and the advice.  And don't worry.  I'll 
come back alive.  I got something to come back *for*, after all."
	Grace shook her head sadly though, remembering all the 
wounded who had, at one time or another, passed over her surgery 
table.  "It's too bad we couldn't just settle this entire thing with some 
high-stakes sabacc," she said wryly.  " 'I'll see your Chandrila and raise 
you Corellia and Garon IV'."
	As Han passed through the double doors he said with a big grin, 
"With you playing for our side, we couldn't lose."
	Grace waited until the doors closed behind him before she said 
quietly, "Too bad we didn't think about that years ago."  With a final sigh, 
she resigned herself to what was to come and quickly moved off to 
make sure her staff was prepared.  Their part would come mostly at the 
end of the battle, but she was certain they would be as busy as any of 
the others fighting in this war.  The only difference was that even if the 
medical staff won all the battles today, they could never win their war.  
Death would still be there, waiting to snatch the next patient off the 
operating table.  And Grace Dodonna began to wonder if it wasn't a good 
idea after all to replace sentient, feeling doctors with droids, the way 
many people wanted to.  
	Shaking her head, she cursed herself for a fool for even thinking 
that.  It was, after all, not simply that this was what she did for a living -- 
she had an excellent education and was more than capable of changing 
careers, even this late in life.  But being a doctor was simply who she 
was, and she promised herself that peace would come one day soon and 
her job would get easier then.  Until that time, she just had to do what 
her heroic Uncle Jan had always done; bear up and move forward.  
Fight to the last man.
	And fight she would.

	Madine had been skeptical at first, but Han was nothing if not 
convincing.  Lando had once told him that he could sell heavy-quilted 
coats to Sand People, he was so convincing.  And he had convinced 
Madine in the end.  
	Han patted the pocket where he had stashed his new insignia.  
He wanted to surprise Leia, and he asked Madine to keep it under 
wraps.  The Corellian general had agreed to that easily.  The entire 
ground assault was under wraps.  Nobody knew yet but Madine, Mon 
Mothma, Admiral Ackbar, and the team that had been assembled for the 
assignment.
	*And a certain brilliant doctor who shall remain nameless*, Han 
thought with a smile.  That had been the toughest part...asking for an 
assignment he was not even supposed to know about yet.  He'd had to 
appear as if he was simply ready for whatever they wanted to give him.  
And they had wanted to give him the Death Star assault, the one 
assignment everybody knew about.  
	But Han knew he wasn't ready for it.  He claimed, truthfully, that 
he did not think this was the best idea.  On the ground Han might be a 
leader, but in a pitched space battle, he flew strictly by the seat of his 
pants, not the textbook way a wing leader should fly.  A wing leader had 
to be responsible for keeping an eye out for the people following him, he 
had to be easy for them to follow, and he had to be difficult for his 
enemies to follow.  Han claimed that was outside his area of expertise 
and suggested Lando.  Lando, he had said, knew how to lead fighters in 
a space battle, not simply preserve himself.
	So then Madine had mentioned the shield bunker, and Han 
persuaded him that this was the perfect job for him, and Madine, after 
hearing about Han's previous forays into locked and guarded places he 
should never have been in, had agreed.
	And then he had made Han a General.  As he watched Leia 
approach him from across the command center floor, he decided he 
liked the sound of that.  General Solo.  It made him feel more worthy of 
the princess.
	"When are they gonna start this?" Han asked as he took Leia's 
hand in his.  He did not move to kiss her like he wanted to.  Alliance 
officers were a little like Imperial officers in that they all came from the 
old school of military conduct that frowned on public displays of 
affection, not to mention how other people might view Leia if they saw 
her kissing a scoundrel.  Han thought it was strange that he, who so 
often gave Leia grief over the importance of her image as a proper 
leader, was now worried about that same image for her.
	"Soon," Leia told him.  "Mon Mothma is just going to confer with 
General Madine and Admiral Ackbar, then with the rest of the cell 
leaders.  As soon as she gets here, we should be almost ready."
	"How about you?" he asked seriously.  "Are *you* ready?"
	Leia gave him a wry, not very humorous smile and said, "I've 
been ready for three years, Han."
	He squeezed her hand sympathetically, seeing Alderaan in her 
dark eyes.  "Then it's time," he said.  "And it's gonna work out, just like I 
told you."
	Leia drew a deep breath and held it momentarily, as though she 
might argue the point with him, but Mon Mothma entered the floor level 
at that time, speaking quickly with Madine and Ackbar before she raised 
her eyes to search for her old friend's daughter.  Seeing Leia, Mon 
Mothma motioned to her, asking for her attendance in that naturally 
dignified way that typified her career as a Senator and the founder of  
the Alliance.
	"Save me a seat?" Leia asked Han.  He nodded, squeezing her 
hand again, wishing he'd had another few seconds so he could tell her 
his news, but it would have to wait.  
	He released her and watched her walk toward Mon Mothma, 
noticing the sharp contrast between the two women.  Both were stately 
in their own right, elegant in fact.  But watching the combat-fatigued 
princess approach the white-robed Rebel leader gave Han some sense 
of how differently he viewed Leia after three years of knowing her.  
	At one time, she had been just another white-robed Senator to 
him herself.  Now he saw her for the warrior she'd always been, and he 
felt sorry for any Imperial stupid enough to get in her way or in the sights 
of her blaster.  No, they did not stand a chance against her.  No more 
than Jabba had.  And no more than Han had when she made him fall in 
love with her.  
	He sighed.  His life had been so uncomplicated once.  It made 
sense to him then.  Now, his life made no sense at all, was as 
complicated as anything could be.  But he had already decided that if he 
had to give up Leia for an easy life, he'd take the complications instead.  
He did not understand that, himself, but he did not care to, really.  He 
loved her, and that was all he needed to know.  And the gods help 
anyone who tried to get in his way or take her away from him.  
	Han made his way to Chewbacca across the room, and smiled 
when Lando approached.  "Well, look at you," Han teased his old friend.  
"A general..."


			   (Not Quite) The End