Title: Time to Move On
Timeframe: AU after Return of the Jedi
Characters: Han, Luke, & Leia

A sequel to Positive, which is an AU sequel to Susan Zahn's AU story, Portside Girl. Read those stories FIRST. Han faces the consequences of their arrangement.

Author's Note: I wrote this story years ago, but never posted it anywhere. One of the reasons for this is because I was unable to get a hold of Susan Zahn, whose story Portside Girl this is a sequel to. So this has been written WITHOUT HER PERMISSION. I beg her pardon, and if she contacts me asking me to take it down, I will. I am finally posting it now because I finally broke the writing ice in a different fandom, so thought I might as well post the other stories I had sitting on my hard drive.

Unfortunately, it seems like Portside Girl has also disappeared from the net. If you know where it still exists, PLEASE send me a link, and I will put it here. If you haven't read it, this story will not make much sense. If you would like to read it, you may private message me with your email address and I will send it to you. You may find Positive here: /s/4349340/1/Positive.

All Star Wars characters are owned by George Lucus & Co. This story is written without the permission, and no money is being made off of it. The premise of this story (Portside Girl) belongs to Susan Zahn, who I was unable to contact to get permission to write this, so it is without her permission. Salu San was created by A. Windsor and it is being used with her permissionl. Both authors are much better than me, and I highly recommend their work. A. Windsor's work may be found at /u/161129/, and the story the holiday came from can also be found on my profile under "Favorite Stories". Susan Zahn's seems to have disappeared from the Internet.

Time to Move On

The last person in the skys I imagined to see in the cantina to day is Luke Skywalker, although I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at all. This had all started with the kid anyway; made sense he'd be the one to end it

It had crossed my mind, more than once, to wonder what She had told her brother. I always knew he would never approve; he was always too smart of a person and too good of a brother to think this was a good idea. But the kid-NO, I reminded myself, the MAN- had been one of the closest and best friends I had ever had, long before we had conflicting interests towards Her. I hoped he had found someway to forgive me.

We had arranged to meet here-or, at least, I had arranged it-, but, at the time, "we" had meant me and Her, not me and him. This was our spot; our little corner of the galaxy where we could go to escape the rest of our lives. A place for me to go to carve out some kinda stability in this universe, and a place for her to come to get a little freedom. Or, at least that's what I managed to convince myself. Truth is, even before that day I knew different.

"What do ya think, a Princess and a guy like me?"

When I asked Luke that question years ago, I was barely thinking. I said it mostly to get him riled up, and cause, well, it was funny. Despite many peoples belief in love at first sight, I've sure never experienced it. Leia was just some girl I'd rescued, a little too bossy for anyone's good, in my opinion. She was rich and she was pretty, and I'd just drop her off wherever it was we needed to go and get on with my life. The only good she was worth was as something to tease Luke about and the money I'd get for saving her ass. Nope, love and commitment and all that were just about as far from my mind as possible.

Course, it didn't stay that way. As romantic as it is to believe I went back for her, I didn't. I went back for that sorry rookie moisture farmer who's now sitting in a dirty booth nursing a drink across the cantina (though I can't say I was quite hating her as she hugged me as we all jumped off our ships to celebrate). It wasn't until I started to get to know her, started to get ta talking to her and going on missions with her that the whole princess thing really set in. I haven't met any other royalty in my life up to that point, and She sure wasn't like anything I'd ever imagine them to be. She was tough and sarcastic and I've still seen her covered in dirt and grease and grime more often then I've seen her dressed up, and maybe that made it harder to see. It was through getting to know Her; her drive, her dedication, her kindness, and her generosity that I began to understand. "All girls are princesses" some writer once said, and if this was ever true of any of them, it was true of Her. It wasn't her genes that made her a princess, it was her heart and soul. And a princess and a guy like me was seeming less and less possible, even as I began ta want it more and more.

See, a princess and a guy like me would never work, cause no matter what, we need different things. Leia ….Leia grew up with a kinda security I can't even begin to imagine. Her family was loving, and the people around her were supportive. She could go out and have adventures and do amazing things because she had them to ground her. Losing her base, losing her security damaged her in ways I doubt anyone will quite understand, herself included. Ever since Alderaan, she's been building stability wherever she can find it; the Alliance, in Command, the New Republic, with her new-found brother. She needs it to stay sane.

Me, on the other hand, is a different story. I grew up with nothing much to speak of; certainly no one who really gave a damn about me. I learned to shun stability; to be stable is to be stagnant and staying in one place for too long when you're on the other side of the law is never a good idea. Which is mainly an excuse 'cause I don't like to sit still for too long. I've always thought that safety is a poor reward for the loss of freedom, that if I settled into any kinda real routine or cause I would lose my edge. Maybe even I'd lose what made me me.

Or maybe I've always been afraid of what it would mean to belong somewhere, to depend on other people, to have them depend on me. Maybe She isn't the only one afraid of losing people.

Anyway, I've always loved space. I love flying the Falcon out into space, nothin' between me and the stars, and not knowing where I'll go next. I love freedom, and She's always known that. It's probably why she let me go.

Doesn't explain why I haven't let her go.

I love her, and that's the reason. Might as well be man enough to admit it to myself. I love her and I'm selfish so instead of letting her go, I slowly kill her. Cause that's what our arrangement is doing; killing her. I see it, even though I don't want to. I see it in the way her heart breaks every time we're together, how she cries until we manage to distract her from it. Hell, I see it in her on the holonet (one of the disadvantages of being involved with a public figure). I see how tired and how sad she is, and I know I'm killing her. But I can't give Her up. Haven't been able to, even though I know she needs me to.

Because I love her. And maybe, just a little, cause sometimes I too need a little bit more stability in my life besides myself, Chewie, and the Falcon.

(And, as She's pointed out more than once, the Falcon ain't exactly stable.)

So, yeah, I shouldn't be surprised to see Luke that day. And I'm not, really, cause one of us has to end it. And it didn't look like it was going to be me.

As I walk over to the booth (and yeah, I walk; you don't swagger over to have a talk with your best friend about the secret affair you've been having with his sister for the past six and a half years), he looks up and gave me a wry smile. I appreciate it for the courtesy it is; with all his Jedi powers, I'll bet the pot he knew the moment I was on-planet, if not sooner, but he has the tact not to point it out. Plus, I realize he must know how late I am, how long I would have made his sister wait, and am thankful we're starting this civil-like.

"Wait," I said, sliding into the bench across from him, "didn't we just do this, about 12 years ago?"

He laughs, as much cause, though some things remain the same, we sure haven't. One look at Luke proved as much. Where had once been an eager, brash farm kid sits a seasoned Jedi Knight. Dirty white tunics have been replaced by crisp, clean black clothes, sun-streaked blond hair has darkened to a light brown, and boyish features have matured and scarred. An orphan has found a family, and innocence replaces with wisdom. I imagine I have changed as well; there are now a few more gray hairs on my head, more worry lines in my face, and a few more inches on my waist. A selfish smuggler who only was in it for the money has somehow made it to a dingy cantina every couple months for something so frivolous as love. Which, in a way, is selfish too. Guess some people change more than other.

"Hey, Han. Grab a drink," he responds as he waves down our waitress. She seemed to be surprised to be serving us. Force knows She never ordered anything. I wonder the scandal we'll cause; after years of meeting a girl here, suddenly they see me with a guy.

"Corellian Ale," I say as I eyed his drink. "So, kid, what exactly is it that Jedi Knights drink?"

He laughs again, and takes a swing out of his glass. I marvel at his ability to look both utterly out of place yet completely comfortable just about anywhere. "Whatever's on tap, old man. It's against the Jedi vows to be picky."

I had to chuckle at that one. We manage to make small talk for awhile, with me asking how his academy's going and him asking about Chewie and the Falcon and 'did I ever manage to get the whatever replaced' and 'did he find those files he was searching for?' It's hard to small talk with a good friend you haven't seen in years, especially when there is a big orange Bantha in the room neither of you are quite ready to discuss yet.

After awhile we've both lulled into silence, nursing our umpteenth drinks, and I've begun to wonder if he feels like he needs to alcohol too to get through what's coming, that maybe this is hard for him as well

I, on the other hand, feel like I've already had the conversation. That we both know what's going to be said, we're just waiting for the words to make it official. So after screwing (both figuratively and literally) his sister for years, I feel like I maybe owe it to him to make the first step. This wasn't his doing, though you could make a claim it was all his fault to begin with, seeing as he started this whole thing. And maybe I owe him for that, too.

"Look, Luke, it's time me and Leia ended this thing…."

"Yeah, it's time for you guys to end this, it's not healthy or fair to either of you. You keep going and going and you think that it's a good thing, but it's not and-" he stops and looks up at me, and his face changes. He had on an expression I've seen countless times mirrored on Her, as she gears into a speech. But now all there is a kind of acceptance. "You know all this, don't you?"

"Yeah." And it's kinda funny, cause he had it all ready; he had his speech planned and set to go. He didn't expect it to be so easy. As if this could ever be easy. "A princess and a guy like me. Knew it wouldn't last."

He stares at me for a long minute, gauging, with either his eyes or his Force, but I can't honestly blame him either way. Then he sighs, frowns, and leans heavily forward on the table, examining his hands. "Listen, neither of you needs the lecture. You're both adults, and you can do what you want. I hate to have to step in and be the big brother"-and I wonder if that means symbolically, or if they actually found out - "and you, you guys, don't know how hard it is to be in this position, to be in between like that. It was almost - ALMOST - a relief when you left, to not have to do it anymore. It's hard to be equal to both of you, to be fair." He stops and looks up at me. "But when push comes to shove, she's my sister. First and foremost. She comes first."

"Yeah, kid," I swallow and nod, "that's the way it should be. Don't ever feel bad for that."

"It's not good for you two. It's not good for her; I can see it, and I can't imagine it's good for you either."

I nod again, and my throat is tight. "I know. It's just, just a hard habit to quit."

"What habit?" he asks softly, and I owe it to him to answer right.

"Loving her."

He stares some more, his icy blue eyes searching. He responds just as softly, "But you have to."

"Yeah, I know."

"No, you don't know," he replies, his voice now determined and closer to normal volume. "It has to end, and it has to end now. That's why I'm here. She sent me, because she couldn't trust herself to do it. It has to end now, Han."

His words and vehemence confuse me, and I wondered what the rush quite is. Then my heart sank; she must have found someone else. She found someone else, and she needed to end it. We never talked about what happened on the in between, when we were apart. We ignored it and lived for the moment, the then, not the past. But it hurt, to hear, and I know that's not fair, but it did.

His eyes are still on me, still searching, and his voice is quiet again. "She sent me, because she couldn't trust herself to do it. You have always been her greatest weakness, for years, for almost as long as I've know you, and she couldn't trust herself to come here and see you and end it." He draws back, a little, and suddenly I see that he looks older, burdened, and that there is a big weight on his shoulder right before he drops it on me. "She's pregnant."

I thought I knew what this whole conversation would be before we had it. I was wrong.

I don't know how to respond. I don't know if there IS a way you're supposed to respond in a situation like this, if there was a manual somewhere that said. So I do what I imagine countless men across the universe do when they hear they're going to have a kid. I stare, dumbfounded. Luckily, somewhere over the years my not-quite brother-in-law had learned patience. That is, my kid's uncle….

Suddenly, something pops through my head, manages to break through the shock-induced fog. Luke must sense my shift, because he sits up a little straighter and braces himself. "But….but….if she's pregnant, shouldn't we not break it off? I mean, there's a kid involved and shouldn't I…" The words are coming out of my mouth as I think them, and they're jumbled, along with the thoughts. Luke motions me to stop, and I think I appreciate it, 'cause I didn't know what to say, didn't fully finish the thoughts in my head.

"Look, I know I'm springing this on you, and this is very sudden, but I need you to think. Han, you're gone for months at a time, and when you are around, it's not even for a day. Do you think that's fair to a child? Is that really what you want for your kids? A father who pops in and out of their lives? Someone they can't depend on? Someone who's four hours late for meetings?" That one stings, cause I just proved it, didn't I? "Is this what you want them taught about love? That it's just a dingy meeting in a cantina once every 6 to 8 weeks? Do you really want them to sit here, in this place, waiting for you their whole lives?"

"This is my child, Luke," I said quietly, my voice horse.

"I know," he visibly sagged, and I'll be dammed if I don't see wetness in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I wish it could be different."

And he does. That's why we trust him and listen to him with stuff like this. Cause somewhere, in his heart, Luke still believes in people and happy endings, and we believe that somehow everything will turn out right if we follow him. The universe needs more people like Luke. I know I do.

We're both very silent for a long while.

"What will you tell the kid? Ya know, when he asks?"

"I don't know. Stuff. The truth. As much as they're ready to know, I guess."

"And the media and all them?"

He smirks. "They can all go screw themselves, for all I care, and for once, Leia agrees with me."

And that made me smile too, cause as good as a poster boy he was for the Alliance and the Republic and the Jedi, Luke had always made a better friend. He's loyal above and beyond the call, and that is in the end why he was here. He knew I needed to be told and that She couldn't tell me. We are very lucky to have him, and my kid's gonna be lucky too.

Questions I hadn't thought of, questions you're SUPPOSED to ask, started coming to mind. I already sucked as a father, I thought.

"Is it, I mean, him or her, I mean, whatever, healthy, or-"

He graciously cut me off with a smile. Suddenly, he seemed to glow; he was excited, he was going to be an uncle. I always knew he'd be wonderful at it, he's just that kinda guy, but seeing him glow was just…. indescribable. "Yes, everyone is healthy and fine, and there is something else you need to know, too. It's not "a" baby, it's two; it's twins. A boy and a girl."

Twins. The world spins around me again. I'm going to have children. Luke's pronouns from early start to spring to mind, but I just though he was speaking metaphorically or avoiding using a gender pronoun, but twins. It makes it all both harder and easier at the same time. And somehow, happier too.

Luke's grin is contagious. "A boy and a girl," he repeats. "They're four and a half months along, and healthy, happy, and strong. Oh, and really force sensitive," he adds, almost as an afterthought.

Me, the father of Jedi. Somewhere along the line, my life became really, really crazy.

I laugh and lean forward, shaking my head and rubbing my eyes. Sometimes, all you can do is laugh. Life is crazy and insane and full of hurts you can't imagine until you experience them and crammed with miracles. Ya just gotta laugh.

We talk a little more, about mundane things about babies and life and half a million other things that I won't remember in an hour. It wasn't important, but it was good and bitter sweet and a good-bye, in a way, for two friends who lives just would no longer cross, but would forever be linked, in some crazy and yet completely normal ways. Finally, we calmed down, and it was time for him to leave. We said good-bye and good luck, made the mandatory farewell noises and gestures, and he rises to go.

He starts to walk away, but paused. He seems a little uncomfortable, unsettled, and it was weird to see him this way, the strong, cool Jedi of the Holonet I'd gotten used to mixed with the farm boy I remembered. He looked at me, troubled.

"Look, I don't know how to say this in a way that makes sense, or doesn't contradict with what I said earlier, or doesn't make just everything harder. I just know I have to say it. If there ever is a time, if you ever feel that you're able, that you could provide what they needed, well, just, I, I think you would be a good father. I think that they could use you, someday."

"Is that a Jedi observation?" I calmly ask.

"No. It's an uncle-ly one."

"Good," I reply, "I'll keep that in mind."

And I will. Because, after all that has been said, all the emotions and thought and reasons of the last couple hours, that's the only place I can keep it. I couldn't process that idea right then. I don't know if I can ever process it and stay sane. But I'll keep it there, for someday.

With a smile and a nod, he leaves. He seems slightly younger now, with the weight off his shoulders and onto mine. But it is my weight to carry, and none of us would get out of this without some baggage. But we will gain some things, too. Even if those some things lived far, far away.

I rise to leave a few minutes later, thinking of what to do next, now that I don't have plans for the night, and what and when to tell Chewie. And as I stepped into the dismal fog that passs for sunlight around here, I say I silent prayer to a Force I don't usually trust for the sake of my kids and my girl. That it would look after them when I couldn't.

It's time to move on.