A/N: Written for tami-taylors-hair on Tumblr, who asked me to fluff her up with the Han x Leia prompt "innocence." I don't know if babyfic was what you had in mind, but babyfic is what you get! I'm so sorry for the fact that Han x Leia + Ben fluff comes with a side order of angsty foreshadowing!

And thanks to magical-destiny for helping me figure out how to end it!

Perfectly Happy

Someone must have held Han like this, once, but hell if he could remember who. Someone with dark hair, maybe, like this nearly raven black that covered the baby's head and didn't come from him or even Leia. Or maybe it came from her side of the family, from the mother she couldn't remember, either, except through the Force as being kind and sad.

Not that the baby would remember this, either. Or if he had one of those Force impressions like his mother, it wouldn't involve sadness. That was the furthest emotion from what Han felt as he stretched out on the narrow couch that had been provided for him in Leia's room in the medbay, holding the newborn baby.

Their newborn baby.

Their newborn son.

His son.

They'd known for months, almost from the beginning of Leia's pregnancy, that they were having a boy. But the Ultrasounder scans hadn't really showed a clear picture of his boy, nor had pressing his hand to Leia's belly made him feel anything close to what he did holding him in his arms.

Han had thought he'd be bigger, for one thing. Maybe because Leia had gotten so big by the end. He was longfor a human baby, the Midwife droid said-in the ninety-fifth percentile for height, whatever the hell that meant. Han could see how the spindly limbs would take up a lot of room all curled up inside such a tiny woman. Still, with his head cradled in Han's palm, he barely spanned the length of his forearm-and he weighed next to nothing.

So fragile.

So helpless.

Yet sleeping as peacefully in the cradle of his father's arms as he had been in his mother's womb. More, maybe, because now he was actually still, which Leia claimed he'd never been during her pregnancy.

His lashes rested so dark against his pale skin, full lips puckered, a little drool escaping, glistening on his chin-exactly like Leia when she slept. That was Han expected to find her doing when he pulled his gaze from his son to look at his wife in the bed; instead, her eyes were open and watching him.

"How long have you been awake?" he asked.

"Not long."

"Are you okay?" Careful not to jostle the baby-they really needed name the kid-he sat up straight, twisted to slide his legs off the couch and onto the floor. "Can I get you anything?"

"I'm okay," Leia answered. "Better than okay. And I have everything I need."

Her eyes, though shadowed with exhaustion, crinkled at the corners and were warm with affection that reached him. Were the baby's eyes brown, too? How hadn't he noticed the color of his own son's eyes? But of course when he looked down again, they were still shut, the blue veins visible through the translucent skin of his eyelids.

"Who do you think he looks like?" Leia asked.

"Been trying to decide. Don't think there's a lot of me in there. Whoever it is," Han said, bracing the baby against his chest as he eased to his feet, "he's perfect."

One of the baby's hands had worked free from his swaddle to curl around Han's index finger, and as he settled himself gingerly at the edge of Leia's bed, he noticed the pink half-moon nails at the tip of each tiny finger. How was it even possible for fingernails to be one of the most incredible things he'd ever seen in the whole Galaxy?

Leia hmmed as she leaned in to adjust the blanket. "His ears stick out, and his chin is crooked."

"Your mother's a harsh critic," Han said. "Don't take it personal, kid. Once she called me scruffy-lookin'. Obviously she didn't mind."

He flashed Leia his most winning grin, and she wasn't too worn out from labor to roll her eyes.

"Before your father interrupted, I was going to say I agree with his assessment. You are perfect, my beautiful little boy."

She feathered his hair back from his forehead and pressed a kiss to it. The baby squirmed a little, nose wrinkling, shoulders and feet straining against his swaddle before he settled again, and Leia chuckled.

"You want to hold him?" Han asked, offering her their baby.

Smiling, she shook her head. "Not just yet. I carried him for nine months."

Han was actually glad he didn't have to relinquish his son. "Guess that's fair."

"And I like watching you with him." Leia leaned her head on his shoulder. "Father and son."

Father. Han had been called a lot of names over the years, many of them deserved, but that was one he'd never thought would be.

"When I say he's perfect," he said, "I don't just mean all ten fingers and all ten toes. I mean…he hasn't done anything wrong. Seen anything bad."

"He's innocent," Leia supplied the elusive word, her hand drifting from the baby to Han's arm, thumb stroking his bicep through his shirtsleeve.

"Yeah. I can't imagine him any other way."

Leia squeezed his arm. "Well you'd better, because considering who his parents are, he's not going to stay that way. Between your uncanny knack for getting into trouble-" Han's mouth fell open in protest, but before he could utter one she added, "and my temper…"

"Which he already demonstrated."

He'd barely been out before he protested the change in his surroundings, at full volume, violently flailing and kicking as the Midwife droid held him up for his parents to see.

"No matter what," Han said, "he'll still be the best thing I've ever done."

"Once again I agree." Leia resumed stroking his arm. "But don't sell yourself short, General Solo. You're a hero of the rebellion. Even if you do hide your medals in the bottom of your underwear drawer like contraband."

The back of his neck prickled, but he didn't want to take his hands off the baby to scrub at it. "I mostly did all that for selfish reasons."

"Looking out for the people you love. I can think of worse traits I'd like my son to emulate."

"Our son."

"You were looking out for more people than you even knew. Making the Galaxy a better place for them. For him."

A better Galaxy. A son. Things he'd never known he wanted, let alone could have a hand in making. Han looked at Leia, warmth creeping over him again in the glow of her admiration and her touch as she brushed his hair back, trailing her fingertips over his temple.

"You're being uncharacteristically nice," he said.

"Well, you did give me the best gift I've ever been given."

"Ain't what you said in the delivery room. Before you got your nerve block, I believe your exact phrase was, This is all your doing."

"Enjoy it before the drugs wear off," Leia replied.

Conversation lapsed as the baby whimpered and began to wriggle. Han shifted his grip and Leia made soothing shushing sounds. The slits of his eyes cracked open, only to screw shut again when he gave a huge yawn. For a moment afterward it seemed he'd fallen back asleep, only for his eyes to snap wide open. They were dark.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," Han said. "Did you know you've got your mama's eyes?"

One corner of the baby's mouth twitched, revealing a flash of gums.

"You're in there all right, Han. He's got your smile!"

"You think?" he asked, with more eagerness than he meant to show.

"At this age, smiles are most likely involuntary muscle spasms in response to gas," intoned the Midwife droid, entering the room.

Han scowled and looked at Leia. "Think she's any relation to Threepio?"

"As I am sure you are well aware, Droids cannot reproduce," the droid replied.

"Their loss."

While the Droid checked Leia's IV and her vitals, Han returned his attention to the baby, who was still looking up at him. The corner of his mouth pulled briefly upward again in that expression that might be a grin but probably was only gas. Whichever it was, Han grinned back.

Someone he couldn't remember held him like this, once. He would never forget how he felt to hold his newborn son.

Perfectly happy.