A/N: Wow, it's been a while since I've last updated. Really sorry about that, I've been pretty busy, but hopefully I'll be posting chapters more quickly now. Thanks for being patient and for posting all your lovely comments! <3
"I don't know who you are or where you came from..." - Leia Organa, Episode IV
Leia stood outside the Millennium Falcon in the hangar uncertainly. After having finally made up her mind to show the Captain that yes, she was perfectly able to have fun if she chose to...she was now second-guessing her prior confidence.
What was she doing? She should probably be using this extra time to plan the next raid, or even sleep. But, no. She was actually considering participating in a frivolous party, hosted by the most aggravating man in the galaxy, while there was a war going on in their midst.
The ramp suddenly sprung out and the door in the ship opened as Chewbacca poked his head out inquiringly. She sighed. Well, there was nothing for it now.
She entered the ship to be greeted with a sudden rush of hot air, sharply contrasted from the chill of the base. Ah, no wonder Han and Chewie had preferred to sleep in here. The atmosphere was almost luxurious in its spaciousness and warmth. She unzipped her white jacket, folding it over an arm and followed the Wookiee inside. They found Han and Luke at the holochess table, although it didn't seem at though they were actually playing. Han had his legs propped up, leaning back lazily as Luke sat forward, speaking eagerly.
As she entered, she realized Luke was animatedly telling Han of his life on the farm with his aunt and uncle...and Han was listening. Not with disinterest, either. He asked questions and nodded and smiled. There was nothing of the arrogant, exasperating man in him now. She leaned back, amused at their brotherly rapport. Han kept surprising her in the oddest of ways.
He caught sight of her at the entrance and grinned, switching quickly to an impudent drawl, "Well, would ya look at that? Her Highness decided to grace us with her presence after all."
Luke got up immediately, thoughtfully pulling up a chair for her. She took it with a smile and then turned back to Han, airily, "I managed to take out some time from my schedule."
"We're honoured," Han quipped, then turned to Luke, "Princess over here thinks she can have fun."
Luke looked back and forth between the two of them tentatively, "Well, she's here now, isn't she?"
Han nodded, "You're right. And to be here, she's gotta pass a rite of passage."
Leia raised an eyebrow, "Rite of passage?"
Luke looked rather shifty, "Han, I don't think..."
Han waved him off, "Her Worshipfullness came here to have fun and so, fun she shall have, isn't that right, Chewie?"
Chewbacca growled in agreement. Leia was starting to have some doubts over this venture. "And what exactly would you have me do?" she queried, tossing her coat to the floor heedlessly.
Han's eyes raked her insolently, from her thick practical pants to her form-fitting shirt. "White, again?" she thought she heard him mutter under his breath, before he reached from under the table, pulling out two dusty bottles of Corellian ale.
"Really?" she eyed them suspiciously, "You want me to get drunk?"
"Not exactly," Luke said almost apologetically, "Although that is the objective of the game."
She sighed, "And what game is this?"
"A getting to know each other game of sorts," Han replied casually, "I ask a question, any question of my choice. And you answer it truthfully. If you choose not to answer it, you drink. It's as simple as that."
She surveyed him thoughtfully, "I'll play it, if you play it too. One question of yours for one question of mine."
Han leaned back, a slow smile playing on his lips, "Done."
Luke took a gulp of his own glass of ale, "You don't have to do it if you don't want to-"
"Luke, it's fine," Leia smiled at him, "I'm not answering anything I don't want to. When does the game finish?" she inquired the last of Han.
"Well, in this case...it ends when one of us gets too drunk to answer coherently or passes out completely."
Leia could tell that was a sudden stroke of inspiration on his part. And this could go very badly indeed. She doubted she had quite the tolerance for alcohol the Captain had. But the less she drank, the more personal questions she answered...why was she even doing this?
Oh yes, to prove she could have fun. Though why Han's approbation really mattered, she had no idea. But she had come this far; she wasn't turning back now.
"Han, you can't get a Princess drunk!" Luke hissed urgently.
"I'm not getting her drunk," Han replied reasonably, "It's completely up to Her Highness whether she wants to or not."
Luke slumped back in his chair, looking defeated.
Leia lounged back in her chair, tapping her bottle of ale, "Shall we begin?"
Han gave her a crooked grin, "Absolutely. Ladies first...what's your favourite colour?"
"Is this part of your grand ploy to get the Princess drunk?" she inquired. Chewbacca chuckled.
"I want an honest answer," Han said simply.
She rolled her eyes at him, but thought about it. She'd never really considered her favourite colour before. "What if I don't have one?"
"Everyone has a favourite colour, Princess," he stated in a matter-of-fact tone.
She sighed and thought about it, "Blue, then."
"I'm surprised it's not white," he chuckled.
"What's yours?" she responded in kind.
"Green," he replied immediately, "First kiss?"
This was a question typical of him. "I was fourteen and he was a royal's son come to visit. He was sixteen. When was your last?"
He looked surprised, but replied, "The day before I met Luke, I suppose."
She was just as surprised at the answer, "That must've been over a month ago."
"Yeah, well, I didn't get much of a chance while I was being shot at by clones and saving my ass from being squished in a trash compactor. The Princess I rescued wasn't about to repay me with a kiss either."
She flushed, "She repaid you handsomely, as I recall, with a monetary reward."
"Didn't get my kiss, though," he shrugged.
Luke cleared his throat and she suddenly became aware of his and Chewbacca's presence in the room. "Well, go on," she changed the subject abruptly, "Ask your next question."
"Why did you choose politics?"
"I was interested in making a difference, I suppose. Especially with people like Tarkin and Vader in the world. I wanted to combat evil. And I'm good at it. Politics, I mean. I don't back down, ever. Why'd you choose smuggling?"
Han took a swig of his ale in response. Ah, a touchy subject then. "When was the last time you had a drink with a friend, just for the sake of it?"
She thought hard, "The night before I became Princess. A friend and I decided to have a drink...not to celebrate my crowning or anything...but just...to have fun, I suppose."
"Are you saying it's been at least a year since you've had fun?" Han queried in mock horror.
She frowned, "It's my turn to ask questions, Captain, not yours. How old are you?"
"I don't know."
"What do you mean, you don't know, you-"
"It means I don't know my birthday, Princess, nor what year I was born. I'd say I'm past twenty-five, less than thirty? I can't know for sure," he said gruffly.
Leia was silent. She couldn't imagine what it might be like to know so little about oneself. What kind of life must he have had as a child, she wondered.
"Why aren't you married?" Han posed his next question expressionlessly, "As a Princess, isn't it your duty to secure the royal line-"
"Just because I'm a Princess, that doesn't make me a breeding mare," she retorted sharply, "I didn't want to get married and that was that. My parents didn't force me." A pang hit her heart at the thought of her parents and without thinking, she picked up the bottle to take a sip from it. Han reached out to stop her, "That's going against the rules of the game, sweetheart," he set the bottle back down, but not before she'd caught a flash of compassion in his eyes, "You answered my question, now you ask me one."
"Have you ever loved anyone?" she asked tersely, "In a romantic sense?"
"No." He didn't get emotionally attached. "Why are you afraid to have fun?"
"I'm not afraid, I-" Han raised a skeptic brow before she could continue. "Fine," she glared, taking a gulp of the ale. "Why did you save my life instead of chasing after the bounty hunter?"
"Because I don't leave my friends to die on my watch," Han replied gruffly.
Leia was surprised to feel a sudden rush of warmth, that seemed to have less to do with the alcohol and heat of the room, and more to do with the idea of finding a friend in him. "Thank you," she said quietly and he inclined his head, before querying, "Why've you been avoiding Luke an' me an' Chewie ever since we got back from the raid?"
"I haven't been-" but at Chewie's soft growl she stopped. "I'm not avoiding you now, am I?"
"That wasn't the question."
She drank from the bottle again. "Why are you still here?"
"It's my ship, darlin'-"
"You know what I mean," she set the bottle down on the table, "Why haven't you left for your smuggling business in all this time?"
Han opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again...and took a swig of ale.
Han eyed the Princess warily. Luke had fallen asleep, piss-drunk and Chewie had left for his cabin, growing tired of the game. Leia was still going strong. The questions had gone from casual to personal to outright bizarre in the space of an hour. And he figured they were both a little too drunk at this point to really care. He couldn't remember if he'd taken another swill at that last question or if he'd answered it.
Leia surveyed her now-empty bottle regretfully. "I guess we'll need another one?"
"Ah, no, that's enough for you," he said hastily. He was a scoundrel, but he wasn't so far gone as to knock her out senseless. The General'd have his head if he got the Princess hungover...and he had a slight suspicion that so would Chewie. His furry friend had seemed to have taken a sort of protective fondness for the Princess.
"But we didn't finish the game," she frowned.
"I'm fresh outta ale," he lied, "Maybe we'll continue this some other time, but not today, Princess."
"Oh, alright. But I'm gonna win," she stated with confidence.
"Are you now?" he said, amused, "You don't answer half the questions I ask you, how do you expect to stay sober?"
"Neither do you," she pointed out, "You're just as afraid as I am."
"Afraid?" So now she was admitting to fear? He'd clearly gotten her more intoxicated than he'd thought. "I'm not afraid of anythin'."
"Everyone's afraid of something. Like losing a loved one," she looked past him, her expression sad. Yet, she did not cry.
"I don't have any," he shifted in his seat uncomfortably.
"But you have friends," she said, wide-eyed, refocusing her attention back to him, "You have Chewie and Luke and...and..."
"And?" he prodded encouragingly.
"I'm not telling you," she folded her arms smugly, "You can get that one out of me when we finish the game."
"Is it so hard to say you consider me a friend?" he said in exasperation.
She frowned, "I didn't say that."
He sighed, "No. No, you didn't." Dammit, she wasn't drunk enough for that. "Well then, tell me something else," he grinned craftily, "Do you find me handsome? Excessively good-looking?"
"You have a scar on your chin," she frowned, "And your hair is scruffy. And you're never dressed neatly."
Clearly she wasn't drunk enough for that either.
"But you're not bad-looking," she added comfortingly, "In fact, you look sort of...rakish. I'm sure the ladies love that."
"You're a lady too."
"I'm not just any lady," she said imperiously.
"Yes, yes, I know, you're the Princess."
"I don't have time to take any interest in men."
Oh? Well, that was interesting. "Not even me?" he queried.
"Especially not you," she pointed a finger at him, "You're trouble."
"I really am," he drawled. "But so are you, sweetheart."
"I am?"
"Yes, you are. Trouble for me." He knew very well she wouldn't remember much when she woke the next day. "C'mon, let's get you back-"
"No," she shook her head stubbornly, "I'm staying here. We have to finish the game."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair, "You need to sleep."
"Then I'll sleep here. It's nice and warm."
He realized there was no way he could get her to her quarters without someone seeing her. And she would probably never forgive him if any of her men saw her in such a state. "Alright, come with me," he held out a hand.
She took it and he led her to his cabin. She eyed it suspiciously, "Is this some sort of trick? Are you trying to get me to sleep with you, Captain, because I can tell you-"
"Not today, Princess, not today," he flashed a grin at her, "You can sleep in here, I'll go sleep somewhere else, don't worry."
"Okay," she nodded, kicking off her boots and pulling off her thick pants to reveal a tiny pair of briefs and shapely white legs. He watched, stupefied. She frowned, looking at him, "Aren't you going to bed?"
He swallowed, looking at the bed in question, back to her, and then taking a deep breath, closed the door and left. You're drunk, Han, he told himself sternly, get a grip. This whole "having fun" notion seemed to be a hell of a lot more trouble than it was worth. He'd hoped by doing this he could get her to loosen up a bit, but little had he realized that he'd be loosening up a bit himself, too.