"Maybe I'll find some other pretty girl to keep me company."

Gasp! "Nooo, I'll be quick!"

"I'll be waiting." She leans back in her seat, smugly. "For a bit."

She rushes through gathering her things and is back in four minutes and forty-eight seconds.

Leia's still there!

"I'd almost given up hope," she teases, opening the passenger side door.

"As long as I'm alive, hope remains," she grins, not even breathing particularly hard.

"I'll keep that in mind."

She tosses her bag in the back and takes a seat, bouncing a little.

And she drives off.

She's somehow worse than Dalia.

Dalia is a very good driver, thank you very much.

It makes for an exciting ride, though!

Leia's apparently having fun cursing back at anyone who yells at them, too, even if they're only briefly passing each other. (Which is always, at these speeds.)

She gets them to her apartment's garage without causing a single wreck, though, and she hops out to offer Dalia a hand.

She takes it. "Thank you, angry princess."

"You're welcome, pretty princess."

Giggle. She grabs her bag and hefts it. "So where to?"

"Elevator's this way..." She locks her speeder and offers to take Dalia's bag for her.

She accepts graciously.

Good.

Up to her apartment then, where Leia's father greets them at the door with his usual veneer of polite friendliness. (Leia is trying not to look nervous.)

"Hello, Senator," she greets him.

"Good evening, your Imperial Highness," he says with an extremely precise bow, welcoming them in and showing them the receiving room. Then, tone a bit more jovial than formal: "Did you have a pleasant drive here?"

"It was enjoyable. Your daughter has a remarkably direct style in all her endeavors."

He smiles, his gaze softening as it lands on Leia. "She's always been the sort to give her all, in everything she does."

"I quite like that about her."

Blush!

Chuckle.

"Have you had dinner yet, your Highness?" he asks Dalia, then. 

"Call me Dalia. I have not."