For @otterandterrier Scoundress Saturdays prompts - “I’m trying so hard not to kiss you right now” and One character adjusting the other’s jewelry/necktie/ etc.
A/N: So the last scoundress saturdays for awhile. :( This isn’t much. But this little bit of Han x Leia lurking in my docs was the closest thing I had to done for today. No plot, just mood, and a bit of HanLeia love.
Timeline: Star Wars rebellion era, Return of the Jedi. 4ABYÂ Rebel Fleet Command Ship - Home One
===========================
 She’d gone from ecstatic and proud, to somewhat betrayed and left out. Even though it wasn’t really Han that she should be angry with... Well, she couldn’t be angry with High Command, she wasn’t allowed to be. Especially not at this stage of the upcoming major military operation. And so, Leia was angry with him. Angry with him because she could be. He not only allowed it, he encouraged it. To get it all out. Out of her system. No one else could allow her to vent and rage like Han could. He just took it all, redirected her negative energy, absorbing it when he had to, transforming it when he could, and – certainly– often in their pre-relationship past – he would hurl it back at her. Challenging and humbling her in a way no one else dared.
 Nerfherder, Leia’s wordless, scalding ire was squarely directed at the lanky, dark haired man she shoved out of the elevator doors. Gods, she was kriffing angry! She’d just got him back, and he throws himself into an insanely dangerous mission for the Rebellion without even telling her? Not one word or peep from him until it was announced at the briefing?
 “When were you planning on letting me know? When they bring your carcass back?” Leia’s eyes were red rimmed, and flashing angrily as she pushed at Han once more. The lift behind, closed on the stoic but bemused witnesses to their argument.
 “You’re supposed to be happy, I joined finally.” Han snapped back at the petite ball of fury fuming before him. Shifting a long coat he’d thrown over his left shoulder, along with a bundle that contained both their kit for the strike team, Han walked backwards in front of Leia with his arms outstretched for a few paces.
 “You were supposed to remain with me on the command ship while you recovered from being encased in carbonite!” Leia snapped.
 Smirking, Han waved off her argument. “Nah. And let these other kids have all the fun? No way, Princess. Boring.”
 Two personnel mutely redirected their paths around the couple to skirt the opposite side of the hall. A third, engrossed in his datapad, nearly plowed into the edge of Han’s shoulder, then stopped dead, a little bewildered at the public spectacle. Han and Leia shot him a look, and he hastened down the corridor. After a moment Leia decisively twisted her head, to fix her anger on Solo once more.
 She glared at him, waiting for him to quail. He almost never did. Today was no exception. His lazy grin was a sin in itself. No excuse, apology or regret lurked there, only those two hazel orbs with a glint of mischievousness.
 “You should have told me.” Leia skewered his shoulder with her forefinger. Han winced, drew his head up and squared his jaw, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.
 “Thought you’d be happy I joined,” growled the Corellian once again.
 Leia’s right finger dropped to trace out the square metal plate of coloured rank lozenges on the dark tan of Han’s new Alliance issued jacket. They’d just returned from the supply officer with their kit for the Endor forest moon mission. Han had grudgingly agreed to wear his rank, as long as it stayed only on that jacket, and only if that jacket was the only piece of official uniform he wore. His ubiquitous black vest and new camouflage duster, along with a rucksack were in a bundle, slung over his left shoulder. Shifting his load, Han lifted a brow at her curiously, awaiting her answer.
 Her throat constricted, “I- I’m just trying so hard not to kiss you right now. You half-witted…” She shook her head, “I want to hit you. I want to punch you so hard, that you stay in that bed in the medicenter.”
 Leaning her forehead against his chest, Leia quietly explained, “Now that I have what I want, I don’t want to lose it.”
 Han’s free hand traced her cheek, “You won’t. Until you say otherwise, I’m with you for the long haul, Princess.”
 Leia fidgeted with the rank tab on Han’s jacket for just a second longer.
Swallowing a hard lump that suddenly coalesced in her throat, Leia gave Han another small push against the doorframe, then pointed a stern finger at him, indicating he should remain. Meanwhile, she dialed in her access code to her assigned quarters with her free hand.
 The door hissed open. Leia turned to incline her head at Han, and gestured come in with a roll of her wrist.
 When the newly minted Rebel General hesitated, his deep set eyes following the bustle of personnel in the hall, Leia grabbed the bundle off Han’s shoulder and dramatically tossed it in the chamber entrance-way with an outstretched arm. Then she shrugged off her rucksack and roll with her poncho, and dropped it on the pile.
 Han made to open his mouth to say something. Whatever it was, didn’t matter anymore. He’d barely squeaked out a, “Hey!” when Leia stood on his boot tips and stretched up to plant a very unexpected and passionate kiss on his lips. And the tension that had been building in the set of his jaw and shoulders since they’d left the command meeting dissipated. Leia held him there at the threshold of the doorway, her hands on the collar of his jacket tugging his head down to her.
 Han’s eyes remained wide open as Leia relaxed into him. When they finally disengaged from the kiss, she drew out his lower lip between her teeth, until she stepped back down onto the floor. Han nearly bent double as he followed her on down to her level.
 A chorus of murmurs followed whistles and catcalls from the hall, heralded their break. Both their eyes dropped, embarrassed by the reaction of their comrades to their display. Traffic continued in the corridor, with a renewed sense of confidence and guarded hope amongst their number. No-one spoke directly to the couple. Though there were a few asides and mutterings.
 “Took you two long enough.”
 “Nice catch, Highness.”
