AN: You all know I don't own Star Wars and I ran out of creative ways to say that a long time ago. This fic takes place maybe a few months before the events of TFA.
"Anniversary Apart"
By EsmeAmelia
"HAN SOLO!"
Han wished Maz wouldn't scream his name every time he entered her palace. He shifted his eyes around the various patrons, but after a threatening roar from Chewie, they all went back to their own business and the music resumed.
"Hi Maz," Han said, trying not to sound too annoyed.
"So what do you want this time?" Maz asked as she shuffled up to the smuggler, adjusting her goggles as she looked up at him. "I know that look – it's something sentimental, isn't it?"
Han groaned as he reached into his pack. "Maz . . . I'd like you to give this to Leia."
There was a hint of a smirk in Maz's wrinkled mouth. "And what makes you think I know where the Resistance currently is?"
Han groaned again. "C'mon Maz, I know you know people who know people. You've gotten the other stuff I sent to her."
"Maybe," said Maz, shifting her weight from foot to foot, "or maybe I just stashed them away and she never got them."
"I know you didn't. Look, if anyone can get it to her safely, you can."
"Or you can," Maz retorted, pointing a boney finger up at him. "You want to, I know it, but you're afraid."
Han ground his teeth. "You think she told me where the Resistance base is? You and I both know she never wants to see me again."
"Maybe," said Maz, "but then again, sometimes the best thing for you can be exactly what you don't want."
"I remind her too much of . . ." Han trailed off, unable to utter that name. Just thinking of him brought a twist to his stomach and made him want to drink himself into a stupor.
"So you think," said Maz, again pointing up to him, intimidating despite her diminutive stature.
Just like Leia was . . .
"Look," said Han, pulling a small datapad out of his pack, "I don't need this lecture every time I come here."
"Consider it payment for these favors," said Maz, taking the datapad. "Fine, I'll get this to her, but next time I just might refuse and you just might have to actually face everything head on."
"Whatever," said Han, unable to keep himself from staring at the datapad as if staring at it would keep Maz from breaking it.
"So am I allowed to know what this is?" Maz asked, fingering the datapad far too roughly for Han's liking.
Han sighed. "Nothing big. It's just . . . our thirtieth wedding anniversary."
"Ahh," said Maz, turning the datapad over in her small hands. "Are you even still married?"
"We never officially got divorced, so technically yes."
Now Maz was studying the screen as if she were considering turning it on. "Hmm, you know, wedding anniversaries are usually spent together. Why aren't you?"
Han couldn't respond.
. . .
Leia sat on her bunk, staring down at the datapad in her lap. How did Han manage it? Then again, if he'd actually gone back to smuggling as Leia had heard rumored, he probably had plenty of connections. She shook her head. Of course he'd probably gone back to smuggling. Run away from it all just like Luke did.
But then again, maybe she was running away in her own way too. Fighting against the First Order kept her busy and meant she didn't have to think too hard about what had happened to her family.
What had happened to her son . . .
She knew her son could die at the hands of the Resistance – Han had certainly spoken up about it several times before he left. It was what finally drove him away – he couldn't handle that she was leading a cause that would likely result in their son's death and he wanted no part in it.
But didn't he realize that the thought broke her heart as much as it did his?
Finally she gained the courage to turn on the datapad, and there was her husband's face, looking slightly more stressed and wrinkled than it had been in the last recording he'd sent her. "Hey Leia," he said in a sheepish voice, "well, it'll probably be over by the time you get this, but today's our thirtieth anniversary, so I wanted to say hi."
Leia felt her eyes starting to well up. Unlike a stereotypical husband, Han had never forgotten their anniversary and every year he tried to make the day special. Her mind rushed through the fancy dinners, the breakfasts in bed, the trips to the park with their son . . .
"I guess neither of us thought we'd be spendin' our anniversary like this," the recording continued. "It'd be nice if we were livin' in a retirement home right now, wouldn't it?" He sighed. "Guess things don't always work out the way you want 'em to, but I hope you're doin' okay wherever you are. Maybe . . . maybe you even miss me? A little bit?"
"Yes," Leia whispered, wishing Han could hear her.
"I miss you too," Han was saying, "but I'm sure you're busy with your Resistance stuff. Maybe things'll get better, who knows?" He swallowed, blinking as if he were trying not to cry. "Well, Chewie and me are doin' all right, I guess, considering, so don't worry your pretty head about us. I know you can't respond to this since your base's location has to be kept hush hush and all, but if you just think of me today, that'd be enough."
Leia wished she could reach into the datapad and touch him.
"Well anyway," the recording concluded, "Happy Anniversary." Then the screen went dark.
For several moments Leia sat there, clutching the datapad to her chest, wishing she were in another world where they hadn't lost their son, where Luke hadn't left, where they could all be celebrating thirty wonderful years of marriage together.
Then finally she rose and placed the datapad on the shelf next to the other recordings her husband had sent her.
"Happy Anniversary, Han," she whispered
THE END