Holiday Challenge Submission From Mermaid 32

A/N: Many thanks to my beta-reader, Jenny CBS! I couldn't do this without your support! Hats off also to my friends on the Discord chat. Y'all bring such fun into my life! I hope you enjoy this little seven-chapter story that sort of fits Zyra’s holiday challenge at hanleiafanficwriters.blogspot.com. Updates will be frequent, because the whole thing is done. Finally!

For those of you who don't know me, please note that I don't adhere to Disney canon or sad parts of Legends. All my stories will be OT compliant only, or AUs rooted in the OT. This one fits the latter category, with Legends kids and my own timeline. Don't like? Then you should read something else, a story that makes you happy. There are so many fics out there, just waiting to be enjoyed!

Reviews not only are welcome, they are treasured! I will keep each one close to my heart, no matter how short.

And now, without further ado, I present to you…

Second Time Around

Chapter 1

Leia raised her eyebrow and placed her hand on her hip. She looked back at Han. “It’s a bit small, don't you think?”

Pushing their luggage cart, Han crossed the short entryway, surveyed their quarters for the night, and realized that Leia was right. Directly to his right was the bed, which faced a dresser with a holoscreen on top. Crammed between the other side of the bed and the far wall was a loveseat and kaffe table. Behind him on either side of the door were the fresher and a mirrored closet. 

“Well, what’d you expect, Sweetheart? It’s late,” Han grunted as he heaved a suitcase off the overloaded cart and onto the floor of the hotel room. “Not my fault that they messed up our reservation.”

Nodding her head in resignation, Leia stared at the only bed, a queen-sized one. “And this is our only option. So we'll have to make do.”

  

“Yeah,” Han grumbled, wiping sweat from his brow.

He had a bad feeling about this.

Vacations are supposed to be fun, but this ain't fun, Han thought to himself. He had planned this trip as a surprise for his lovely overworked wife, hoping that this visit would have fewer complications than their first. “So far, not so good,” he mused in frustration, regretting his choice to travel under assumed identities. The benefit of anonymity, of course, was privacy, but the unintended side-effect included losing their suite to what appeared to be a Zeltron bachelorette party.

Turning back to the cart, Han reached for another bag just as a small force darted out of the fresher, careening into his legs and nearly toppling him over.

“Hey! Calm down, little buddy,” Han exclaimed, reaching for the five year-old mischief-maker, but the boy dodged to the right, then scrambled onto the bed.

“Sorry, Daddy! Come play with me!” he exclaimed, giggling as he bounced to his feet and began jumping. Noticing Anakin’s joyful exuberance, Han felt his exasperation begin to fade. An uncontrollable urge to grin overtook him, and he covered his mouth and turned away, not wanting to encourage his son’s considerable energy at this hour.  

His smile suppressed, Han turned back around, ready to admonish Anakin. At that moment, Leia looked up from her unpacking at the foot of the bed and gave their son The Look, a pointed expression that tended to inspire both respect as well as a sprinkling of dread in its recipients. “Anakin! You need to stop. People are sl…”

The door swung open, hitting the door jamb with a bang and two figures burst into the room. Startled, Han instinctively grabbed for his currently absent blaster, then stopped himself, realizing their identities, but not before slamming his funny bone on the luggage cart. Tingling pain shot down his arm, and he rubbed his elbow. He attempted to smile at their seven-year-old twins, but it felt more like a forced grimace.

Jaina’s excitement boiled over first. “MOM! DAD! THERE ARE VENDING MACHINES DOWN THE HALL!”

“AND AN ICE MAKER! CAN WE…?” Jacen began.

“Shhh…” Still holding Anakin’s arm, Leia held a finger to her lips as she spoke to their children. “Inside voices! People are sleep…”

Jacen continued in a quieter yet still excited tone, while Jaina smiled encouragingly at him. “Ok, ok. Can we get Super Sugar Blasts…”

“...or Zamberry Nerfherders?” Jaina finished her twin’s question, looking hopefully at her mother.

Leia shook her head and responded, “Not tonight. It’s bed time for you three.”

“I want a Wookiee Cookie,” Anakin chimed in, now sitting next to their mother on the bed, appearing quite interested in the topic his siblings had introduced.

“Pleeeeease?” All three wheedled simultaneously, their hands pressed together as if the Goddess might assist them in their quest for goodies.

Shaking his still-tingling arm and laughing darkly, Han turned to them and replied with a stern “No.”

Two little faces gazed at their father, eyes wide and lips turned down in disappointment. The third, the oldest, albeit by only five minutes, changed her strategy. She picked up the ice bucket from the dresser. Grasping it in both hands and holding it to her chest as if it were a prized possession, she squared her shoulders and said in a voice beyond her years, “I'll get some ice so you two can have a refreshing glass of ice water, and while I'm there, I'll get treats for everyone.” Jaina smiled expectantly, glancing from her father to her mother and back again.

Han shook his head. “No. Any more sugar and none of us will sleep.” He pointed at his daughter and smiled. “Nice try though.”

“We all need our rest so we won't be too tired to do fun things tomorrow,” Leia explained as she reached into the suitcase and pulled out pajamas for each of them. “There are many places to explore on Ord Mantell.”

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Chapter 2

Their nighttime routine completed, Han tucked the still-giggling twins into their “bed,” which in reality was a makeshift sleeping pallet that the kids had constructed on the floor in the far corner of the room, using all the actual bed’s covers except the bottom sheet. It wasn't very soft, with only a folded blanket between their little bodies and the floor, but the twins seemed thrilled with their creation.

“It's like camping,” a smiling Jaina remarked as she crawled under the sheet and snuggled her head into her pillow.

Jacen poked his head up from where he lay beside his sister. “Yeah! Can we go camping? I wanna go camping for real!”

“How ‘bout we see how well tonight goes first,” Han replied with a chuckle, then looked over at Anakin. “Lie down, pal. You’re not gonna sleep like that.”

 

Leia leaned over to kiss Anakin. Their youngest sat in a jumble of covers on the loveseat, which had pulled out to become a single bunk, thus at least partially solving their sleep space problem. She knew immediately what he was about to say even before she noticed his big saucer-shaped eyes.

“But I’m not tired!”

“Neither are we,” exclaimed the floor sleepers.

Han smiled at them and shook his head. “We’ve been flying for 17 hours. I’m tired, so you’re definitely tired!”

In years past, he would have scoffed at feeling worn out after flying for that relatively short amount of time. Traveling with Chewie across the galaxy was one thing, he reminded himself. Traveling with kids? That was something else.

“Good night, kids. We love you.” Leia dimmed the lights to low and turned the air circulation to high, both for comfort and for the system’s sound muffling qualities. She followed Han to the entryway, stepping around the cart to stand near the door. 

Han and Leia faced each other, and she smiled up at him as he gently placed his hands on her shoulders. “I’m going to return the luggage cart and bring back extra bedding. You need anything?”

A shiver of excitement traveled down Leia’s spine in response to Han’s low murmur. Even after so many years together, that voice never ceased to thrill her. She slipped her hands between them and placed them on his chest. Flashing a flirty grin, she glanced up at him through her eyelashes and whispered her reply. “What do you have in mind, Captain?” Her eyes flickered in the direction of their children, then back to his hazel ones. “Given our current situation, of course.”

“Plenty.” Han responded with a lopsided grin and her heart skipped a beat. “But the good stuff will have to wait.”

“I know,” Leia replied. She stood on her tiptoes, ran her hands up his chest and around his neck, drawing him toward her, their lips meeting in a light yet lingering kiss. Pulling away, her eyes met his and she gave a little smile. “Don’t be long,” she said in a breathless tone, and her smile grew when she felt his heart rate increase in response.

They disengaged, and Leia opened the door for her husband. He pulled the cart into the hallway, winking at her on his way out. She thought she might melt.

Once the door closed, Leia crept over to the dresser, slowly opened a drawer and rifled through her clothing. Unable to see more than dark amorphous shapes, she chose two items that felt like the sleep shorts and camisole she'd packed. Soft, well-worn, and rather modest, Han had jokingly deemed them her “family friendly” pajamas, as they differed greatly in style from those she donned when they were alone together.

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Chapter 3

Han had not returned by the time she was ready for bed, so Leia stood in the almost-darkness of their room, considering her choices. She wanted to read from her datapad, as she did most nights before sleeping in Han’s arms... or not sleeping, as proximity and caresses often led to more active behaviors. A warm sensation began to spread through her body as her mind drifted to the latter. But as lovemaking was a non-option in their current predicament, Leia turned her attention back to more realistic possibilities.

She could lie down on the bare mattress and try to sleep as she waited for Han’s return, a wise idea given that the kids were early risers despite their late night. But after a full day of travel and kids and logistics, she felt wired rather than tired. She knew that if she closed her eyes in an attempt to drift off, her mind would do the opposite, bringing problems to solve and ideas to remember. And she would remain wide awake.

She could watch Holonet, but it would have to be on silent, and even then it would emit light, as would her datapad, no doubt attracting the attention of young eyes. Her ears attuned to anything that might relate to her children, Leia glanced in the direction of their sleeping arrangement. The rustling of sheets indicated that the kids had not yet fallen asleep, and Leia did not wish to encourage their wakefulness. She made her decision.

With a sigh of resignation, she turned to her right and entered her destination for the evening.

The fresher.

As the door closed behind her, the lights came on, flooding the small tile room with brightness. Leia squinted until her eyes began to adjust, then took a plush white towel from the shelf above the closed toilet, spread it on the lid for a bit of comfort, and sat down. Wondering what was taking Han so long, she looked longingly at the bathtub, imagining the soothing sensation of warm water, foaming bath salts, and her husband’s hands working wonders on her skin.

However, given that the kids were still awake, she knew that a bath at this moment might not be a relaxing one. She picked up her datapad from the counter, selected a juicy article on the latest holostar gossip, and began to read.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Even with the white noise of the air circulator, Leia heard kid antics and laughter.

She sprang to her feet and dashed into the dimly-lit bedroom just in time to see the giggling twins flop down onto their pillows and pull the blanket over their heads. Anakin lay face-down and spread-eagle in the middle of the still-vibrating mattress, pressing on it with his arms and legs as if attempting to stop the motion and hide the evidence of their misbehavior.

 

Leia wasn’t fooled. She placed her hands on her hips and addressed all three of them. “No jumping!”

Then, she looked at Anakin. “Bed,” she said sternly, pointing to his sleeping arrangement on the loveseat. His eyes flashed wide open in response, and he obeyed.

Leia looked at her children, now lying motionless. An Alderaanian saying played in her mind, one that she had heard from her parents on many occasions: “Never go to bed angry.”  Sensing their tension, her own irritation melted away, overshadowed by her unconditional love for them. She knelt beside the twins’ pallet on the floor, pulled their blanket back from their faces, then tucked it snugly around them, kissing each of them on the forehead. Then, she made her way to Anakin’s bedside and did the same with him.

Gazing at the three of them curled up in their covers, she prompted them. “Guess how much I love you.”

Three little voices, well-versed in their mother's favorite children's story, chanted the next line in unison. “How much?”

“I love you to the moon… and back,” she replied as she reset the lights, this time to almost total darkness.

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Chapter 4

Leia placed her datapad on the counter, crossed her arms, and frowned. Forty-two minutes had passed since Han’s departure. She huffed in frustration, wondering what in seven hells he could be doing to be gone for so long with such simple tasks of getting bedding and returning a luggage cart. A sliver of worry crept into her thoughts. Their lives had been inundated with chaos and destruction in the years immediately following the first Death Star. Although the Empire had been defeated on Endor, heralding a new era of peace and fair government, fresh dangers occasionally had threatened their new stability, and Han still had enemies from his former association with the criminal underbelly of society. And here they were, back on Ord Mantell, where fear and pain had shut down their joy and passion.

Trying to quell the growing tickle of anxiety in her gut, Leia reached for her comm and looked at the small data screen. One missed transmission, it read. From the time log, she realized that it had come through while she was getting the kids back in bed. 

And then she saw the message. “Miss me yet?” His words were followed by a small symbol, a stylized winking cartoon face. 

Breathing a sigh of relief, Leia’s tension dissipated at his cheeky tone. “Han, where are you?” she typed. 

His reply flashed across the screen almost immediately. “I knew it. You miss me!” A cartoon face again accompanied his message, but this time its mouth was an impossibly large smile.

She rolled her eyes, then chuckled as she sent her response. “No, really. Where are you?”

“Downstairs, but I’d rather be with you. Kids sleepin’ yet?” The face had been replaced by a red heart of the same size.

Leia grinned and shook her head, not as an answer to his question, but in reaction to her husband's expressiveness. She looked at her chronometer, then typed, “No sounds from the bedroom in 27 minutes, so I think we're in the clear.”

“Good. Figured it’s best for me to sneak back in once they’re out cold.”

She raised her eyebrow and pecked out her reply. “Ah, so that’s why you stayed away. The comfortable chairs and fireplace in the lobby had nothing to do with it.”

“Nah, Sweetheart. Too busy for that. I’m gettin’ something for you!” Another symbol followed his message. Leia looked carefully. It appeared to be a tiny cartoon image of a gift-wrapped box.

“Oh? And what might it be?” She smiled as she responded, then added little hearts at the end, simply because she knew he would like them. She shook her head. Who would guess that Han Solo, with all his outward bravado, was so enamoured with datamojis?

“You’ll see. Back soon.” [Winky face, heart]

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Chapter 5

With the kids sound asleep and Han returning soon, Leia decided to make room for him on the room's only “seat” by drawing a bath for herself. Yes, it was somewhat risky, in that a child might need to use the fresher, but she had pulled the curtain closed. And a bath really was the most practical choice, she told herself. Any pleasure she derived would be simply a secondary result, a happy accident.

Leia slipped into the water, leaning backward until its warmth caressed her face and her long chestnut locks floated freely around her. Running her fingers through her hair, she resurfaced, then reclined her head and shoulders against the cool porcelain of the the small rectangular tub. She stretched her arms in front of her and rested them along the sides. Her skin tingled as the foaming bath salts dissolved, their floral fragrance permeating the air and stimulating memories too intimate to be preserved in a holo-album.

She recalled a natural hot spring shimmering under a blanket of stars, which had provided a welcome respite from Hoth’s bitter cold. That long-ago supply run to Naboo had been an escape from their comrades, whose intense curiosity she and Han couldn’t avoid while on base. They weren’t together… publicly. In private, however, their interactions had progressed beyond friendship and flirting. Having spent her entire life under the galactic spotlight, Leia had wanted to keep their romance under wraps for a while longer, as something special, just for them.  

The opening and closing of the hotel room door interrupted Leia’s reverie, and she opened her eyes as the fresher door swooshed wide, then shut, its locking mechanism clicking into place.

“Hey Sweetheart.”

A large hand pulled the curtain back, revealing the tall, handsome form of her husband. His eyes roved over the parts of her not obscured by the thin sheen of bubbles, then lingered on her barely-concealed breasts. 

“You’re late.”

“Looks like I arrived at the perfect time.” Han placed a crinkled tan package on the counter, then sat down on the closed toilet. “An’ I got the best seat in the house.”

Leia raised her eyebrow. “What’s in the bag, Hotshot?”

He reached back to retrieve it. “Got somethin’ for you.” His twinkling eyes and lopsided smile made her heart skip. Their gazes locked on each other, and after a few seconds, Leia noticed that he'd made no further effort in regard to the gift, its packaging still hiding the mysterious contents.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” Han countered.

“Are you going to show it to me?” Leia responded, with a coy tilt to her head.

Han glanced at the bag, then back at Leia. “You want this,” he teased in that soft baritone voice that never failed to send a wave of pleasure through her body.

“Scoundrel.”

“Who, me?” Han pointed at himself, his expression one of mock disbelief. “I’m a nice man.”

“No, you're not,” Leia admonished as she held his gaze. “You’re a scoundrel, making me wait.” Her lips were pursed in a pout, yet twitching to grin as she suppressed a rising urge to giggle at their familiar words.

“Whatcha gonna do about it, Princess?”

“Mmm…” A flush of anticipation spread through Leia’s body. She fingered the facecloth that lay under her hand, inhaling deeply as she reminded herself that their current situation wasn’t conducive to a night of passion. But as playful possibilities began to dawn on her, Leia’s eyes sparkled with mischief. She immersed the cloth in the bath, then looked at Han, whose lopsided grin made her flush. Yes, she wanted the package. But mostly, she wanted his soft lips moving against her lips and his talented hands roving over her body. And if she had to work for it, then so be it.

Leia tilted her head, then lifted the dampened fabric to her exposed neck, savoring the sensation as well as her husband’s rapt attention. Warm water ran along her skin, traveling over her collarbone and following the rise of her chest before merging with the bubbly surface. Han swallowed hard, his intense gaze generating a flutter of excitement. With lips turned up in muted delight, Leia raised her knee, then slowly extended her leg out of the water as she smoothed the cloth over her glistening skin.

 

She closed her eyes, relishing the soft warmth. Calloused fingers cupped her heel, then enveloped her ankle, and she opened her eyes to see Han now sitting on the side of the tub. He grasped her foot with his other hand, and began gently massaging her toes. Continuing to support her ankle, he gradually brushed a hand along her lower leg, kneading her calf with sensuous ministrations that made her pulse quicken. A niggling concern about their current close quarters inched its way into Leia’s awareness, and she pushed it away, distracted and desirous for more.

“You like this,” Han murmured. His careful attentions softened to a delicate touch while he began to move both hands up her leg.

“Mmm…” Leia closed her eyes, enjoying the heat of their abiding attraction.

Han’s fingers grazed her knee and trailed slowly upward toward more intimate areas, one hand reaching her waist while the other massaged her inner thigh. Leia arched her back and his thumb brushed the underside of her breast. She gasped, her body craving more, much more. But she knew that her desires could not be fulfilled here and now.

She lifted her head and saw that Han's expression was no longer playful. His eyes, now darkened with need, mirrored the fantasies galloping through her mind. If he could join her in the bath, she would move to straddle him… Her thoughts were jumbled, and she sifted through the fragments to remember her original goal: the package.

Leia struggled for a moment to find words. Han's face was moving ever-closer to hers, now mere centims away. “You didn't answer my question,” she whispered.

Han sat back slightly, and Leia noticed his eyes raking over her body once more. "What..." he began, his voice foggy as if with sleep, then cleared his throat. "What question?"

Leia grinned, pleased that their passion had derailed his brain as well as hers. She looked leadingly toward the neglected bag, now lying on its side by the door.

Han’s eyes followed hers, and a sheepish smile crossed his face. “Oh, yeah.” He picked it up from the floor, and began to unfurl the top.

“Bedding’s in the room, by the way. We got the last comforter, but I know you'll still stick your frozen toes under my legs anyway.”

“Han, I only do that on ice planets.”

“That's ‘cause you know I'm hot.”

Leia rolled her eyes, and Han’s expression turned mock-serious. “Leia Amidala Organa Solo, you will sprain your eyeballs if you keep doing that.”

She laughed at his rather accurate impersonation of a statement she had repeated several times to the twins of late.

Han pulled out a bottle of ale and placed it on the counter. “Corellia’s Finest,” he said, reading the label, then grinned at her. “Hey, it’s me!”

Leia raised an eyebrow, then squinted as she made out the other words. “Does that say... Butt Cheek Brewing Company?”

“Yep. Classy little operation out in the countryside. Brewmasters are a bunch of ladies who really know their stuff. But I have something else for you.” He took a small dark bottle out of the bag. “This ain't much, but it fits the occasion.”

Upon first glance, it seemed to be an inexpensive bottle of red wine, the kind available at most every fueling station. But then Leia noticed the script on the white label, which read 10 Years. She smiled up at her husband, then read the smaller print: Celebrating a decade of fine wines by Mantelli Vineyards.

“Happy anniversary, Sweetheart.” Han's deep voice sent shivers down her spine.

“I love you,” Leia replied, watching curiously as Han turned to place the bottle on the counter, then reached for another object beside the sink. He proceeded to remove the wrapper, revealing a plastene cup. Tossing the trash into the small receptacle in the corner, he picked up the bottle again, then began to pour its content into the clear cup.

Leia suppressed a laugh when she realized that she and Han were about to celebrate their anniversary, their tenth anniversary, by drinking cheap alcohol in a tiny hotel fresher. Not wanting to insult his effort to present a meaningful gift, she concealed her grin with her hand, then found herself distracted by a sensuous mouth, a strong jawline, stubbly skin she longed to touch, and hazel eyes that were looking into her own. 

“See something you want, Your Highness?” He leaned forward, offering the drink to her.

Her gaze flicked to the cup, then back to her husband. She raised an eyebrow. “Fancy.”

“Hey, it could be worse!” Han quipped as she took the cup from his outstretched hand. “You could have to drink out of the bottle!” He winked, then gave his bottle of ale a slight tip in her direction before taking a swig.

A small grin tugged at her lips as she watched her husband swallow, his Adam's apple moving up and down. She held her cup just under her nose, swirled the contents, and inhaled, noticing the spicy yet sweet aroma. Considering his joking declaration, she sipped her wine, savoring the intermingling full-bodied, complex flavors.

“True. We’ve endured quite a bit of worse.” Her voice now soft, she glanced from her drink back to Han and continued. “No regrets?”

“No regrets, Sweetheart,” he replied.

They looked at each other for a moment, and the sincerity of his words filled her awareness, resonating with her own sentiments about their life together. Leia grinned, and stretched her legs until her toes touched the end of the tub. She wiggled them. It wasn’t that she ever doubted his feelings for her; he had demonstrated his devotion to her—to their family—innumerable times. However, it felt good to hear him say it.

“I’d let you marry a gorgeous guy like me all over again.” Han looked pleased with himself.

Raising an eyebrow, Leia replied, “I'm not sure we could squeeze a third wedding between your assignments, my meetings, and the kids’ Jedi training.”

“Good thing you finished your own training, or we’d really be swamped.”

“True.” Leia smiled, then took another sip of her wine. “And it's a good thing that our first trip here was postponed or this may have happened very differently.”

“You mean we wouldn’t be drinking in a hotel bathroom on our anniversary? ‘Cause I’d rather celebrate another way.”

Leia rolled her eyes at his exaggerated leer. “Well, so would I. But that's not what I'm saying. When the original Ord Mantell supply run was planned, I'd just finally let myself like you.”

Even at that early point in their acquaintance, Leia had known that her feelings for Han greatly exceeded like, but after losing everyone she loved, she had feared opening herself to the possibility of more loss and pain. Then there had been the guilt... She’d not permitted herself to pursue something as frivolous as romance after the Empire had destroyed her planet and victory seemed nowhere in sight. But then, the handsome smuggler from the garbage smasher had found his way to her heart. They'd endured many obstacles together, yet he had remained at her side, first as a courageous and steadfast friend, and eventually as a lover.

Leia’s eyes moved to the cup in her hand, and she remembered the long-ago Hoth day when she first acted on her growing feelings for Han. Protected only by thin gloves, her hands had been bone cold in Alderaanian terms, so cold that she could barely feel her fingers, even after Han had invited her onto the Falcon. Although she’d attempted to conceal her discomfort, Han had noticed. Leia had felt as if time stopped when he took her hands in his. She remembered thinking, Oh, yes, as he’d pulled her closer.

Although the moment had been lost when an exasperated Wookiee interrupted them, Leia had stayed, and Han had served her favorite drink, hot chocolate. He’d also given her his much thicker gloves. The warmth of Han’s gifts had been more than physical; his kindness had comforted her lonely soul. So she'd mustered her resolve and asked him to accompany her on the Ord Mantell supply run. When he accepted, she'd felt both elated and relieved, as if the two of them had found and placed a missing puzzle piece. Being with Han felt right. The kiss she’d placed on his cheek, although innocent, marked the beginning of a very different type of relationship and a new world for both of them.

Shortly thereafter, Leia had fallen ill, as had almost half the base personnel. She hadn’t been surprised when Command had cancelled that initial mission. However, despite her fever and weakness, she’d been frustrated and disappointed rather than thankful at the chance to recuperate. But Han had taken good care of her during and after her recovery. Very good care, she mused. And she had reciprocated.

Then, six months later, High Command had rescheduled the Ord Mantell run, sending Han and Leia to this “land of casinos and nature’s wonders,” as Han had described it. There, they had met with their supplier, a fellow Alderaanian who owned a large orchard just outside of the city in the foothills of the Juvel Mountains.

They’d spent a bright afternoon together, filling the Falcon’s cargo hold with crates of much-needed tangelina and limon fruits. Han had taken Leia’s hand, but this time she wore no gloves. She could feel the calluses on his work-roughened hands as he rubbed his thumb tenderly across her palm.

“Got somethin’ to tell you.” His serious tone made her stomach drop.  

Was he leaving?

“Come ‘ere.”

Gripped by uncertainty, she glanced up. At the sight of his grin, hope had replaced anxiety.

Han had led her toward a grove of fruit trees with large orange and white blossoms. There, as they faced each other under the fragrant branches, he’d taken her other hand. “I’m stayin’ with you. An’ with the Alliance.”

Leia recalled how her heart had leapt, how she'd thrown her arms around him and kissed him despite the fact that they hadn't yet made their romance public. In that moment, she wouldn't have cared if the entire Alliance had seen them.

And their kisses had deepened once they returned to the privacy of the Falcon. What wickedly wonderful things they'd done with each other that night… Those memories still made her face flush and her body tingle.

She and Han had finally emerged from his cabin to take a speeder into the city, one they’d borrowed from their supplier. Under assumed identities, they’d planned to go to dinner at Paradisi, where the finest chefs on the planet prepared unique dishes using fresh ingredients from local orchards and farms. Given their usual diet of years-old processed and preserved foodstuffs, eating fresh and local was an opportunity they couldn't resist.

If only we'd not left the Falcon… The thought had occurred to Leia many times, but less frequently as the years passed and new memories—happy ones—soothed her pain.

“You definitely liked me,” Han said with a smirk, bringing her attention back to the present. “Just took you a while to admit it.”

Leia rolled her eyes. “A long while,” she quipped. Her thoughts flashed to images of exchanges relatively early in their… what would she call it?  Friendship was too standoffish, and relationship was too open. Past platonic but not yet a couple...

As if he had read her mind, Han chuckled and shook his head. “We were somethin’ then, but we sure didn't know what.”

Leia sniffed her wine again, then ran a finger around the rim of the cup. “We were wasting time. Two-and-a-half years...”

“Nah, Sweetheart. It wasn't a waste. We just got to know each other real well.”  Han waggled his eyebrows at her.

Leia huffed in amusement. She still very much enjoyed their gentle banter. At the beginning, their intense interactions had been fortified by their mutual strong feelings for each other, which neither had been willing to acknowledge. Even then, she had found those encounters energizing for reasons that she had refused to say, even to herself. 

Leia looked up at her husband. “You could be a real nerfherder sometimes. But I wasn’t perfect either.” She smiled. “I knew there was more to you than money.”

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Chapter 6

Still seated on the hard lid of the toilet, Han took another drink, then set the now-empty ale bottle on the counter. He placed his hands behind his head and leaned back, stretching out his aching back and legs. His eyes were drawn back to the lovely figure in the bath, and he concluded that the view was well worth any discomfort.

Leia smiled, and his heart skipped a beat. Through the bubbles, he glimpsed hints of those curves he longed to touch. Han swallowed. He would have done just about anything for her to rise out of the water, with the thin layer of soap running down her glistening form, gradually revealing beauty that only they knew. She’d step out of the bath, and he would caress her soft skin with a warm, dry towel, then entice her to bed and....

Leia brought the cup of wine to her slightly parted lips and took a sip. “Happy anniversary, Hotshot. Too bad this tub isn't like the one in our honeymoon suite. We would have made much better use of it.”

Her sultry voice nearly convinced Han to turn his fantasies into reality, right then and there.

Han blinked. “Uh, yeah,” he rasped then cleared his throat.

Leia's eyes sparkled with mischief. “Pitten’s got your tongue?”

Refusing to concede defeat to his wife’s teasing remark, Han grinned back at her. “Pita? Nah. We left her at home. Probably tearing up the curtains right now.”

“She's with Chewie, Han.”

“Probably tearing up HIS curtains then.”

Leia winced.

Han laughed. “There's a reason we named her Pita.” He raised his eyebrows. “Pain-in-the-ass.”

Leia leaned her head back and looked at the ceiling. “I know, I know,” she groaned. “Chewie seems to like her though, and at least the kids still think she’s named after the flatbread they like so much.”

Han shrugged. “Same color.”

“They’re smart kids. They’ll figure it out at some point.”

He raised a finger and smiled. “But not yet.”

Leia’s lips turned up as she gazed into her cup of wine. Very little was left. She placed it on the side of the tub, then immersed her arms into the water, running her hands down her thighs. She tilted her head and looked up at Han through thick lashes. “I don’t want to talk about pets or kids,” she said.

“So what do ya wanna do, Princess?” Those deep brown eyes… that luxurious hair… that seductive body… Han knew what he wanted to do.  

Leia reached for her cup and finished the last sip, then held the cup toward him. He took it from her and placed it on the counter next to the empty bottles.

She folded her arms, and rubbed her biceps. “I’m cold.”

His fantasies now muted by mild concern, Han moved forward and crouched next to his wife. You’re in a bath. How can you be cold? He hoped she hadn’t contracted Findris Flu. But once he dipped his hand in the water and realized that it had cooled, he grinned in relief. “Still warmer than Echo Base showers.”

“That’s not saying much, Han.” She curled her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

With gentle fingers, Han took her small hand in his, finding her skin cool to the touch. “You're trembling,” he murmured.

Shaking her head, Leia gave a small grin. “I’m not trembling.”

He kissed her quivering hand. “Yes, you are. Let’s warm you up, Sweetheart.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, then turned away to reach a towel on the shelf behind the fresher seat.

Potential ways to warm Leia up flashed through his mind. Skin-to-skin contact—their bodies pressed together with limbs entwined—was usually his favorite strategy. But that required an element they lacked at the moment: privacy.

Idiots. Han once again silently cursed the hotel reservations department for their abrupt room change. 

“Han?”

Leia’s voice pulled him back to the present. Glancing in her direction, he became transfixed by the very real vision standing before him. A lopsided grin stole across his face as his eyes roamed over her body. She’d risen and stepped out of the tub. Her long, damp hair hung over her shoulders and down her back, with escaped tendrils hugging her curves like chestnut waves painted on alabaster skin. She placed a hand on her hip, on that smooth, wet skin he longed to touch.

“Han!”

Her emphatic tone caught his attention, yet all he could do was utter, “Huh,” while continuing to admire her.

Leia eyed him patiently. “May I have that towel?” She motioned toward the fluffy white one in his hands.

Han had forgotten that he was even holding a towel. The fleeting thought occurred to him that he'd rather not hide her lovely body, but she was cold, and he couldn't have that. “‘Course,” he rumbled, then opened the towel with a flourish. “It's all yours, Sweetheart.”

Leia turned so that her back faced him, and Han at once wrapped the soft cloth around her, delighting in how she leaned into his chest. He kissed her temple. “Let’s go to bed,” he murmured in her ear.

“I like the sound of that.”

-------------------------------

Chapter 7

“Ready?” Leia asked.

“Always.” Spoken from directly behind her, Han’s baritone voice in her loosely braided hair sparked a thrill that reached her toes. She felt his strong hands grasp her hips, pressing his firm body to hers.

“Han!” Her words came out in a whispered giggle.

Han laughed, and her breath caught as he kissed her neck. “Sorry, Sweetheart. We don't have space for anything else.”

Leia exhaled and closed her eyes for a moment. “If only…” she began to imagine before reality returned to her awareness.  She gave her head a quick shake, set her jaw, and refocused her attention on their mission: exiting the fresher and getting into bed without disturbing the kids. Although they already had donned their sleep clothes, thus increasing their chance of success, she knew they could never be too careful. 

Ready for the task at hand, Leia turned and looked up at her husband. His hazel eyes and lopsided grin once again made her heart skip, and she found herself lamenting the existence of his sleep shorts and t-shirt. She blinked, momentarily escaping her distracting thoughts. “Shall we?”

“Alright. Let's do this.”

With one hand still on her waist, Han dimmed the fresher lights until the small room was cast in a low glow. Leia palmed the door open, and they peered into the darkness toward the sleeping area. Unable to see anything, she paused for a moment to allow her eyes to adjust, and felt the warmth of Han’s hands on her shoulders. She then opened her mind to their children, sensing their peaceful presences.

“Out cold,” Leia whispered as she crept into the bedroom with Han following behind her, carrying the extra blankets he’d picked up earlier. She placed her hand on the wall and then the bed as she stepped forward, an old habit rendered unnecessary by her Jedi training, but it was comforting nonetheless.

Han plopped the bedding on their mattress, which in turn made rather non-mattress-like sounds.

"Ow...," a child's voice groaned.

"Wanna cookie," another one mumbled.

A third whined unintelligible syllables.

Then, in the faint light from the fresher, Leia watched with dread as the bed appeared to come to life. Dark, moving lumps reminded her of a campy horror holoflick she'd seen as a university student where a glob of black slime grew as it engulfed sentient after sentient. She'd laughed at the silliness then, but these blanket-covered amorphous masses were real.

Her battle instincts were activated, and she froze. Glancing at Han’s silhouette, she saw that he had done the same. They were in a dangerous predicament. Never wake a sleepin’ kid was the old Corellian saying, and they were on the cusp of waking three.

There they remained, motionless and barely daring to breathe, for what seemed like forever. Despite her concern, Leia's lips turned upward as an image of Threepio came to mind, complete with his clipped voice reporting their dwindling odds of a restful night in each other's arms.

Finally, the lumps stilled. Leia closed her eyes, again observing the children’s mental states through the Force. Anakin’s mind felt serene. His consciousness had quieted and turned inward; his breathing and heart rate had slowed. Clearly, he was asleep. She turned her attention to the twins, finding their brains at ease, but still somewhat aware. Leia frowned. She really wanted everyone to be well-rested for the days to follow, and she knew from past experiences that the twins were likely to awaken soon. She considered her ability to manipulate their brains into sleep states. It was something she and Han had joked about, especially during their sleep-deprived early parenting days. But despite the temptation, Leia had never done it, preferring to use her Force abilities to understand and comfort their children rather than to actively control their minds.

She only engaged in the latter if their safety was at risk, which unfortunately was a rather frequent occurrence in the Organa-Solo household. Leia recalled how only last week she'd dashed from the cockpit to check on the kids in the all-too-quiet lounge. She'd had a bad feeling about what she'd find.

"Stop!" Her shout had echoed in her head as well as her ears. A surge of power had flowed from her to her children, familiar and practiced, yet no less emphatic.

All three had frozen over the disassembled dejarik table, its wires dangling in haphazard patterns from the open top.

Jacen had straightened his posture and then spoken. "It's not our fault! It won't work, and Dad's busy!”

"So we're helping," Jaina had added.

Leia smiled at the memory as the soft rustle of careful movement caught her attention. She opened her eyes to see Han's dark figure reaching for the bedding. “Not yet,” Leia whispered, and he stopped.

Jaina let out a low moan from her spot on the side of the bed closest to Han.

Here we go, Leia thought, closing her eyes again and taking a deep breath as she readied herself to soothe their daughter's discomfort.

But Jaina's distress evaporated quickly, and Leia's eyes flew open to see Han gently massaging her back. Her frown melted into a smile as her heart filled with tenderness. Despite his difficult youth, Han was a terrific father. More than once he'd told Leia that he wanted to give their kids all the “good stuff” he never had, and she knew that he was referring to love and time rather than toys. Not that Han didn't enjoy the toys. Many evenings upon arriving home, he would join the kids in whatever they were playing, whether it was Jedi Jeopardy, which he usually lost, or sabacc, where they competed for sweets, or some game of pretend in which he might end up dressed as a sparkly krayt dragon with a pink cape.

Leia suppressed the urge to laugh as she remembered Han’s latest caper with the kids. While she’d been at a conference one weekend, the four of them had set up a convoluted Pita-feeding contraption stretching from the kitchen counter, through the dining room and living area, and back to the kitchen. Seemingly random items had been employed in creative manners, including the blender, a smashball, a mini-racetrack, copious amounts of spacer tape, extra Falcon parts, and one of Han's boots. When Leia arrived home, she’d immediately spotted their “invention” as well as the pitten food splattered all over the floor. She had rolled her eyes and was about to tell them to clean it up when Jacen greeted her with his excited appraisal: “The best part is that it almost works!”

Another moment of silence passed. Han, still rubbing Jaina’s back, mumbled, “I think we’re in the clear.”

Again, Leia connected with their children’s minds, first Jaina’s, then Jacen’s and Anakin’s. Their tranquility washed into her awareness, and she looked toward Han. “Yes. We’re good to go, Captain,” she whispered.

“I got the magic touch, Sweetheart,” Han replied as he slowly pulled his arms back and stood.

“You certainly have a way with them,” Leia remarked softly, nodding toward the three sleepers.

Han stepped toward her, and she tipped her face up, unable to see his features in the darkened room. But she felt his tender touch when he placed his large hands on her shoulders. Deft fingers caressed her skin as he moved one hand to her neck, his thumb grazing her collarbone. She felt her body respond to his touch, and tilted her head to the side, inviting further exploration.

Han chuckled, then leaned down and rumbled in her ear. “So what’ll it be, Your Highness? The pullout or the floor?”

“Mmm…” Leia began with eyes closed, lost in the sensation of his gentle ministrations. Then he kissed a sensitive spot just behind her earlobe, and her breath hitched as his teasing lips traveled to her neck. “I would say ‘neither,’’ she continued in a halting whisper, “but our bed... has been invaded. A retreat is necess…”

Speech became impossible as Han descended on her lips. Their kiss deepened, and Leia became vaguely aware that her hand had somehow found refuge in his hair, while his had slipped under her shirt, caressing her lower back.

Han's gentle pressure pushed her backward, as she pulled him with her until the squeak of overused mattress springs caught her attention. Leia opened her eyes and realized she was lying on the pullout bed, her legs dangling off the edge. She yearned to wrap them around her strapping husband, who at present lay partially on top of her, leaning on his elbows, his fingers laced in her hair and thumbs caressing her temples.

The decision was made. Not that it mattered. Leia could sleep with Han anywhere, and had.

Images of the unorthodox sleeping arrangements they had endured during the Rebellion came to mind. They’d certainly slept in some less-than-ideal places, and any surface in this room, even the closet floor or the cold fresher tiles, would surpass every one of those. Tents and sleeping bags had been five star hotels compared to nights spent in a cold, muddy ditch, a large hollow tree, or a cave in a rockface just big enough for the two of them. There’d also been the night they’d spent in the Falcon’s smuggling compartment—indoors, but rather uncomfortable.

Despite the challenges of resting in such environments, they all had a singular advantage, which at the time Leia had vehemently denied, yet secretly desired: the necessity of sleeping with Han. Even during their earliest missions together, she had felt safe with Han, and cared for. A happy warmth spread through her body as she remembered curling up next to the man she would eventually marry, his arms around her, his breath in her hair, his lips on her forehead. Those pre-dawn forehead kisses—the ones he bestowed upon her when neither was fully awake—she had relished, often allowing herself to remain in his arms, pretending to doze, simply so the kisses might continue.

As if he had read her thoughts, Han kissed her lightly, his soft lips just grazing hers. Leia lifted her chin for another kiss, but he pulled away. Confused, she shivered, already missing the warmth of his body against hers.

“Han…” she whispered, sliding herself fully onto the small bed.

“Hold your tauntauns, Sweetheart. We’re forgettin’ something.”

Before she could utter a retort, thick soft material covered her body, and Leia felt the warmth of her husband as he crawled under the blanket. In a practiced move, she lifted her head as he extended his arm under her, and she rested her head on his shoulder. He ran a finger along her cheek. “Better?” he asked.

“Much,” she whispered, stretching a leg across his and placing her hand on his bare, well-toned chest. She splayed her fingers, enjoying the sensation of his skin and his taut muscles under her fingertips.

Then she realized that something was missing.

“Han, where’s your shirt?”

“Under my head. Kids have death-grips on all the pillows an’ the hotel didn’t have extra.” Leia felt his body stiffen and cool air on her skin as he began to move away from her.

“What are you doing?”

Han placed a hand on her cheek, then tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “Gettin’ something for your pretty head.”

Leia knew that he wouldn’t chance waking anybody by prying a desired object from Force-sensitive hands, and lack of a pillow was not her concern anyway.

“Oh, Han… No,” she whispered, pulling him back to her and nestling into his arms again. “I just need you.”

Han chuckled. “You need me. I’ve got a good feeling about this.”

Leia grinned into Han’s chest as she inhaled his musky scent. Good feeling, indeed, she thought. And Han was right. She did need him. In the aftermath of Alderaan’s destruction, she hadn’t expected to find happiness, and now, even after ten years of marriage, their shared story still amazed her. Fighting side-by-side, albeit reluctantly at first, they had escaped the Death Star, had fallen in love on a Goddess-forsaken iceball in the middle of a war, had survived and won that war, and now were raising their three children. Together, they had accomplished what many would have deemed impossible.  

Leia raised her head and drew closer to her husband’s handsome face. “I love you,” she murmured, her lips centims from his.

“I know.” Han paused. “I love you too.”

THE END

The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.

Moulin Rouge

Never tell me the odds.

Han Solo