MIXED UP ⌲ HAN AND LEIA

one; anywhere with you

— FOUR MONTHS AFTER THE FALL OF THE GALACTIC EMPIRE; TATOOINE —

Tears threatened to fall from Leia's eyes.

"You sure you'll be okay?" she and Han asked in unison.

Luke nodded. "Yeah, don't worry. I'll be okay....it's just Coruscant, how bad can it be?"

Han shrugged, a small, thin smile rising on his cheeks. "From what I've seen? Pretty bad."

Luke sighed. "I can take care of myself, Han."

"I know you can, kid; that's what makes me worried."

Luke, with a huge desire to learn more about the old Jedi Order, had decided that traveling to Coruscant was the best option for what he planned to do in the future. Leia wasn't quite sure why going there of all planets would be beneficial, but she trusted him. Even still; he was her brother, and she couldn't help but be terribly worried.

A calm silence overcame them. Luke's gaze traveled slowly until reached hers, and she ran up and embraced him tightly, nearly knocking him to the ground. She didn't want to let go. She didn't want to let him go. But she knew she had to—he certainly wasn't the same farmboy she had met all those years ago—so, after a few seconds, she stepped back without a word. Surprisingly, Han hugged Luke with almost the same kind of passion, too.

"Take care," Luke muttered as he walked toward the half-battered X-wing in front of them, his voice unsteady. Leia felt like she had to say something, anything; but she didn't know what.

"Luke...." she started off quietly. "May the force be with you."

The words were foreign to her, but she knew that they meant more than she could fathom.

Luke looked back at her for a second and nodded. He seemed lost for words himself, but his eyes explained everything; reluctance, sadness, anguish, even nostalgia. Nevertheless, he climbed into his ship and took off. Han and Leia stared at the ship as it gradually disappeared, both frowning. Han reached for Leia's hand and entwined his fingers with hers.

"Let's go," he murmured.

Leia swallowed the lump that had grown in her throat and looked up at him. "Go where?"

Han attempted to smile, but it faded within seconds. "Honestly, anywhere off this dustbowl."

He turned around towards the Falcon, pulling her along with him. Chewie was waiting for them at the boarding ramp, looking rather despondent himself. Before they entered, Han stopped and turned around to face Leia, taking hold of her other hand. Despite her gloominess, her heart fluttered.

"Leia, I—ugh, how do I say this...." he bit his lip, the color in his cheeks becoming more noticeable. "I'm always here if you need me."

She looked up at him, her gaze sharp; but before she could respond, or thank him, or perhaps even kiss him, he quickly walked away and into the ship without another word. Chewie, who was still standing, shrugged (almost in sympathy) at Han's odd behavior, before entering the ship himself.

Leia stood in awe.

"Such a strange man," she mumbled to herself.

— 20 MINUTES LATER; MILLENNIUM FALCON —

Han walked out of the cockpit and into the lounge, where Leia was sitting stiffly, staring at the wall.

"We're in Hyperspace now." he said, grinning.

"Where are we going?" Leia asked flatly, her tone making it hardly sound like a question. Han's original smile quickly turned into a frown.

"Nowhere in particular, yet. We're just circling around the outer part of the system. You okay?"

Leia avoided the question. "Then why are we in Hyperspace?"

Han sighed, oblivious to the reason for her uncanny behavior. "It's....hard to explain how that all works." He sat down near her, but not as close as he usually would've out of prudence. She was acting bizarre—cold, even. It reminded Han heavily of the experiences they had on Hoth—both literally and figuratively.

He stared at her out of habit; her hair was pulled back in oddly perfect braids, and she was wearing some sort of gray jumpsuit with a black vest.

She was beautiful.

Even though Han was slightly afraid of how she would react, he said it. He had to. "You....you look stunning, sweetheart."

Leia finally looked at him, her eyes wide.

Sweetheart.

Once a mocking nickname Han had called her out of conflicted sarcasm, the word had evolved into something more. Something more solicitous, more loving.

Han thought back to Bespin, seconds before he had gotten frozen in carbonite. She had said that she loved him. In some ways, he wasn't quite sure how; he always screwed things up, always said something he didn't mean to or never even said anything at all. But he loved her, too. He really, really loved her.

Han moved a little closer. "I know I can be an asshole sometimes, but I love you, you know."

"I know," Leia bit her lip. "And, yeah, I'm okay; just a misunderstanding, I think. Plus, I have a lot on my mind with Luke leaving and all...."

"Misunderstanding?"

"It—it doesn't matter now, Han." This time she moved closer to him, to the point where they were nearly touching. Han felt like he was on fire; like his heart would explode if he didn't close the inches between them.

"Where do you want to go, Princess?" he whispered. Leia shrugged, a smile apparent in her eyes but not on her mouth.

"Well....somewhere secluded, I guess. Not like Outer Rim-secluded; but, just, you know....nice. Quiet."

Han nodded. "If only the galaxy wasn't as messed up as it is....it seems like every planet has its problems, doesn't it?"

Leia's eyes seemed to survey his face. "Yeah,"

Han, finally overwhelmed, leaned in closer and captured her lips with his.

He was always afraid that she would tense up whenever he kissed her—that she would pull away and tell him that they couldn't do this, that she didn't truly love him—and it would never be the same. But she never did, and she never would. Leia's arms wrapped around his neck, while his pulled her so that she was on his lap.

They stayed like that for a while—kissing each other like it was the last time they ever would, tangled in each other's embraces, until Han pulled away slightly.

"Personally, anywhere with you sounds pretty good...." he whispered against her lips.

"Yeah...." Leia said in a trance, as if she was daydreaming about what "anywhere" entailed. "Pretty good,"