An enormously huge thank you goes out to all of the reviews (registered and guest both)ooxxoo – you have no idea how incredibly motivating they are to me! And guest reviewer LK – I hear you! This pandemic crap has been trying on all of us, and I'm glad my little drama is cheering you up (You all probably know that this fic has soap-opera drama and some darker moments, but in the end don't worry...everything will work out for my/our favorite couple)

Into the fire...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXx

An invisible tension hung in the air of their apartment while the princess focused her efforts on organizing baby items – blankets, onesies, and more – all while conspicuously ignoring her husband.

He couldn't really blame her for being displeased (displeased was an understatement) with his rough sketch for returning to Tatooine, but after she'd ditched and ran away from him at the tail-end of their earlier walk, compounded by this cold-shoulder treatment, he was eager for the silence to end and the conversation to resume.

"C'mon, Sweetheart, you're going to have to talk with me sometime, hopefully before I leave tomorrow, so it might as well be now, right?"

Zero. Nothing. Not even one word or so much as a turn of her head to acknowledge his presence as Leia walked past him for the umpteenth time, going between the autovalet and storage boxes.

Why in the Maker's name she had chosen today to do this task - instead of closer to her due date – was beyond him, Solo puzzled bemusedly. Nevertheless, when she'd started this little project he'd happily offered to help, but she only glared at him - once - before returning to pretend he didn't exist.

Bent on getting a reaction out of her, Han decided on the idea of strategically positioning himself on the opposite side of the counter and adjacent to the autovalet room, which forced Leia to squeeze by his form each trip, making the bumping of their bodies inevitable. So far, it wasn't producing the results he'd hoped for, however, and at this point he was yearning for any crumb of attention from his wife...a single syllable, one lingering glance, hells, a dirty look would be at least a starting point. She strode by him again, intentionally oblivious to him despite his dramatic, fake coughing.

"Are you going to keep on walking back and forth past me, like I'm an inanimate object, like a table or something?" came a familiar drawl from over her shoulder as she walked past Han, his hand conveniently, and unnecessarily, lingering across her lower back. Placing the freshly-laundered stack of bassinette sheets on the countertop, the princess maintained her silent treatment.

Her mother and father had often reminded Leia what a stubborn girl she could be, and at the moment – with her mind reeling from everything her spouse had dropped on her today - she was determined to live up to their expectations. Thus, she continued going about her business, until he went out of his way to provoke her on her next trip by him, leaning into her body and applying a squeeze to her rear.

"Cut it out!" she exclaimed, the satisfied smirk crawling up her husband's face triggering her further. "Hmm, after informing me that your mind is already set on going back to smuggling for Jabba, now you want to 'converse' with me? Ha! I'd probably receive about the same level of discourse from a wooden chair," Leia snipped while folding a fuzzy-footed sleeper. The shock over his news - that had initially left her frightened and worried - had time to foment and mix with anger. It was easier to be mad at him because she could deal with that better. Anger kept her hormonal crying in check. At least it did for the moment. "How does it feel to be ignored? To be treated as a mere background object? I suppose now you're getting a taste of how I'm feeling."

Her tone was cool, calculated, Han noted, her eyes remaining locked on the laundry basket's contents, ignoring him again as her bare foot tapped against the floor in an irritated rhythm, ostensibly to show how annoyed she was by his presence. "Well, since I ain't no mind-reader, I don't know what that's supposed to mean, and I'd appreciate it if you spelled it out for me," he grumbled impatiently.

Her hands dropped down upon the stack of neatly-folded sleepers as she finally set her eyes upon him, trying to keep her voice steady. "It means that I'm upset that you've been thinking about this for months, and have only just decided to tell me today that you're deliberately, willfully planning on running spice again, one of the most perilous – not to mention illegal - activities to participate in. And that's only if Jabba doesn't have you killed first."

He ignored the latter point. "Remember, though, I'd only be running spice long enough for me to finish paying off my full debt. Then I'm done. Forever." But he could tell by her posturing she was just at the beginning of her vent.

"It means that I'm hurt because you've excluded me from any input into such a monumental decision affecting our lives. We're life-bonded in marriage and are supposed to be making decisions together, as a team, but all I've gotten is a last-minute, "Hey, Baby, this is the deal...take it or leave it," Leia impersonated with the lowest tone she could produce, puffing our her chest while attempting to mimic her husband's cocky swagger.

They were valid assertions, and her last comment wasn't supposed to be amusing, but no matter how loud that inner voice warned, Solo couldn't maintain a straight face. "Do I really look and sound like that?" he snickered, sending her brown eyes blazing.

"How impressive, Han. Brilliant, really, that you've managed to belittle my feelings, along with stomping all over them as well. Clearly, you think the prospect of leaving me, us-", she rested her hand on her abdomen, "is so darn funny and entertaining, but it's eating me alive. I'm frightened out of my mind, just at the thought of how dangerous this idiotic plan of yours is...wondering what are the odds of you actually making it back in one piece. And yet, you have the gall to laugh about all of this? My gods, how insensitive can you be?" the princess accused hotly before her vision began to blur with moisture. Swiping at her eyes, she refocused on the pile of miniature newborn socks in front of her needing to be paired up. She couldn't fathom losing him, after everything they'd been through...

Why was it, that despite the best of intentions, he frequently ended up hurting her, the one person in his life who meant the universe to him? Han sheepishly pondered, dragging his fingers through his hair as he inched his way around the island to stand next to Leia. He thought he'd been doing the right thing by shielding her from this burden for as long as possible, but apparently that was a serious miscalculation on his part. Picking up a sock, he slipped it over his thumb, marveling at its snug fit. "Leia, I really am sorry about all of this...and you're right, none of it is funny, but I guess attempting to find some humor, even in a shitty situation, is my way of coping," he murmured, finally locating the miniscule sock's mate. "I didn't tell you right away about my plan because I was concerned that you'd get all upset and worked up. Figured that would be bad for you and the baby," he explained while awkwardly folding a sleeper, looking up to find his wife's eyes narrowing upon him.

She could hear the sincerity in his voice and see it in his expression, but in her current state of emotional upheaval, it wasn't enough. "That's very magnanimous of you, but did it also, by any chance, have something to do with the fact that you knew I'd oppose this crazy scheme? And I'm certain that I wouldn't be in the minority opinion, either, if you had bothered to discuss this with Luke or Carlist, or anyone else who cares about you - and is also uncomfortable with the concept of breaking inter-galactic narcotic laws," she chided before murmuring in an offhanded manner, "Can you imagine what they would say? Or what their reactions would be?"

Giving her profile a long, thoughtful stare, Han stated obstinately, "I don't give a crap what anyone else's opinion is, and I sure as hells don't need anyone's approval to get rid of the bullseye on my back."

"Obviously, my viewpoint is trivial and meaningless to you, as well," the princess claimed, twisting away from him to speed in the direction of the autovalet, hearing his extended sigh as he tracked close behind her.

He wasn't very good at this and she wasn't being her usual logical self, either, the combination leaving him even more flat-footed than he normally would be while attempting to explain his point of view. "C'mon, Leia, now that ain't true at all...you're like the kriffin' sun to me; your opinion is the one that matters most," he declared, leaning against the door frame as she gathered the next load, shaking her head and muttering something about stubborn nerf-herders. "Leia, honey...just...try to calm down and hear me out."

Straightening her spine, the princess planted her hands on her hipbones. "What. Did. You. Say. To. Me? - I'm supposed to calm down?!"

Han's penchant for digging himself into deeper holes continued. "Look – I know you're worried about me and my safety, and that this is going to be really tough on you...but I also think you're mad cuz you're used to being in charge and giving orders, and that's not happening this time. This isn't Alliance business; this is my business and my mess to clean up, and I'm going to be the one who's calling the shots. You're just going to have to accept that. Trust me, it'll be better this way." What he said made sense to him, but apparently not to his wife - whose mouth dropped open and remained that way until she accidently dumped the basket over, its contents spilling across the chilly tiles.

As if she wasn't already irked enough, her husband's observations further upended her already frazzled thoughts. "Well, that's rich. Better for who? You, I suppose, if I'm reduced to parroting, "yes, dearest, whatever you say is always fine with me, dearest; I will never ever question you or any of your intentions," Leia huffed as they both knelt down simultaneously to gather the fallen laundry. "You've certainly got a lot of nerve...is this how your father spoke to your mother? Is this what is expected from a Corellian wife? Well, thank goodness I'm not Corellian!" she lashed back before using the basket as a shield to push past him.

The implied comparison between him and his abusive, asshole-of-a-dad seemed like a low blow, stinging him to the core and Han taunted back lasciviously, "You are by injection, Babydoll...and don't forget about those South Continent Clan laws that we life-bonded under, because they clearly state that you are, too," still bristling with insult. Jamming his fists into the pockets of his Bloodstripes, he grumbled through a deepening scowl, "It sure would be nice if I received a little bit of encouragement and support from my wife, since I am trying to preserve a future for us - where we're not always looking over our shoulders."

He hit a few nerves and she wavered inwardly for a second or two before digging in her heels, parrying, "And it would also be nice if my husband would swallow some of that machismo-pride of his and at least consider some of the other possibilities available," her fingers losing their deftness as she fumbled over a tiny onesie's snaps...

"Alrighty then - name one," Solo challenged, crossing his arms in mounting aggravation, guessing she had nothing better up her sleeve - because neither did he (something which didn't please him to admit). That fact, along with the childlike flickers of hope currently brightening her face made his chest constrict uncomfortably, and he reminded himself to remain steadfast, no matter how hard she pushed to stall this decision.

"If only the Empire hadn't confiscated all of my family's holdings," Leia lamented before imploring with her doe-like gaze and a dulcet, pleading tone, "just give me a little bit of time; I'm sure that between myself, Carlist and Luke...perhaps even Fedr, we can come up with a less risky alternative-"

"Jeffin Krist, look at you, girl!" Han barked gruffly, his eyes popping while looking her up and down, finishing with emphasis on her expanding belly. "It seems pretty obvious to me - we don't have time!" Despite the near-immediate collapse of Leia's expression, his temper was gaining upward momentum, driven higher at the mention of her pest-of-a-friend, Ashtean – who was probably the last person in the galaxy he'd ever ask for help.

The princess clutched at the powder blue sleeper in her hands so tightly that her fingers were beginning to lose sensation. Shutting her eyes provided no relief, either, for the images from her night-terrors – of a tattooed-covered husband with a changed personality that could best be described as barbarous - now haunted her freely. "Why do you have to always be so damned closed-minded and inflexible? It's one of the worst things about you," she accused while trying for the dozenth time this day to keep from bursting into tears.

"What other options, realistically, do you think I have at my disposal, Sweetheart? You know firsthand that I can't sing for a living. Maybe we should hold a fundraiser or raffle or something? How about asking the Rogues to organize a base-wide bake sale for poor Han Solo? Or would you be happier if I ran around begging for handouts like some pathetic charity case? No fucking way that's ever gonna happen," Solo growled through a harsh and bitter laugh, resigned to the unpleasant reality of having to revert to smuggling again. But to see the love of his life, now already beginning to crumble - with her lower lip quivering and those big beautiful eyes of hers welling up with tears - gutted him. But there would be no backing out. Because he couldn't trust himself to have the fortitude to return to Tatooine, once she gave birth and he caught his first glimpse of their newborn son, both of them even more vulnerable to threats and danger.

"There's no need to be such a smart ass! For gods' sakes, at this point something – anything – has to be better than rejoining the Hutts and degenerating back into a mercenary, thug-life again," the princess practically shrieked before turning her back to him, shakily swallowing down gulps of air.

Mercenary? Thug-life? What the hells. Is she seriously virtue-signaling me? Solo suspected. It shouldn't have been a shock to his system, since he always knew, fundamentally, that she was a better person than him, but still...

Shame-fueled anger ignited his temper and he reached out and grasped Leia's arm, twisting her back around to face a bruised ego masked with a sardonic grin. "I see you've climbed up on your haughty, moral high-horse, huh? Well, good for you. Little rich girls can have the luxury of maintaining fairy-tale-ideals, but I'm from the real world, and sometimes a person has to get down in the dirt to beat the dogs." He didn't realize the severity of his tone, nor the brusqueness in his grip around her bicep, until it was too late and the damage was done.

"Let go of me! And don't you ever talk like that to me again...like I'm some kind of ignorant, spoiled child," Leia choked through a sudden cascade of tears. Balling up the sleeper, she threw it at him and watched it bounce ineffectually off his chest before she rushed into their bedroom, the locking mechanism a convicting clang in his ears.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxx

Well, he'd really fucked things up this time.

No amount of pleading or cajoling could get Leia to open the portal. So, Solo sat on the floor outside their bedroom, occasionally thumping the back of his head on the durasteel with a remorseful sigh, left to feast upon the sour meal of his own thoughts and the faint sounds of her muffled sobs.

"Please, Leia...sweetheart... angel... please let me in. Since when do you ever hide from little ol' me?" he baited in the hopes of coaxing her out, reaching his arms over his head to stretch his stiff back.

"Since you started behaving like a bantha-headed jerk," came the cutting response from the opposite side of the barrier separating them.

Touché, Princess. But he was walking a fine line, knowing that if he wasn't rigid, there was a strong chance he'd end up caving and coming up with bogus excuses to delay his return to Tatooine. An indeterminate period of time passed before he tried again for a breakthrough with her. "Leia...I know I irritate you, piss you off and say stupid things. But putting all that aside, there's no one in this universe who loves you more than I do. Couldn't we at least call a truce until I get back from Noverti?" Han plaintively proposed, then waited.

And waited.

The temptation to hotwire the lock was powerful and increasing in strength with each passing second. "Leia?" he implored again but this time louder, hoping to soon hear the patter of her tiny feet approaching, the door opening, and another chance...

"Go away, Han, and leave me alone. Haven't you hurt me enough for one day?"

Dejected, he stood up and slowly dragged his fingers down the cold metal while temporarily conceding, "Alright, Leia, I'll give you what you want and head over to the Falcon for a while, but I'm still gonna check on you and come back later, because I'm not that easy to get rid of."

More silence. Though at this point, his short-term expectations had already tanked. After an hour or so, when they'd both had some time to cool off and regroup, hopefully she'd be willing to speak to him again and they could find some common ground. Otherwise, it was going to be a very long night.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXx

Please don't hate me. Han and Leia fighting is never pleasant and I know this was a difficult chapter (I really struggled writing it myself). Stay buckled up...