HAN: Hey, Your Worship, I'm only trying to help.
LEIA: Would you please stop calling me that?
HAN: Sure, Leia.
LEIA: Oh, you make it so difficult sometimes.
HAN: I do, I really do. You could be a little nicer, though. Come on, admit it. Sometimes you think I'm all right.
LEIA: Occasionally... maybe...when you aren't acting like a scoundrel.
HAN: Scoundrel? Scoundrel? I like the sound of that.
[Han takes her hand and starts to massage it.]
LEIA: Stop that.
HAN: Stop what?
[Leia blushes, confused]
LEIA: Stop that! My hands are dirty.
HAN: My hands are dirty, too. What are you afraid of?
LEIA: [looking right into his eyes] Afraid?
HAN: You're trembling.
LEIA: I'm not trembling.
HAN: You like me because I'm a scoundrel. There aren't enough scoundrels in your life.
[Han pulls Leia slowly close]
LEIA: (softly) I happen to like nice men.
HAN: I'm a nice man.
LEIA: No, you're not. You're...

Best. Kiss. Ever.