BRING IT TOGETHER

LEIA:

It's been a week since I learned I was pregnant with our third child. I'm still very much on an emotional roller coaster. I alternate between complete terror and utter dismay.

I wish Han wasn't so damn pleased about it. I hate to admit it, but I'm not in the mood to be thrilled about anything. His happiness just makes me feel so alone.

He keeps telling me that everything will be fine, that it will all work out. I want to believe him. Right now, I can't.

We haven't told anyone outside of Chewie. I haven't even said anything to Luke. I certainly haven't revealed anything to anyone at work. I've been keeping to myself. I'm sure Najia suspects something but she is too polite to say so.

I'm on the sofa, holding both babies and reading 'The Little Lost Bantha Cub' to them since Han is due back late; he and Chewie did a turnaround on transporting an ambassador from the Inner Rim. Jaina and Jacen's eyes begin to close and I cuddle them near me, looking at their sweet faces, feeling their soft skin, listening to them breathing gently. I find myself dozing off as I hold them.

I don't know how many hours I've been on the sofa with the little ones when I hear the sound of the front door swish and soft footfalls. Han must be back.

I blink my eyes, and he's there, smiling at us. "Let me get these kids off to bed," he says, smiling at me. He looks tired but happy. He scoops up Jacen first, then comes back for Jaina.

"How're you feeling?" he asks me very quietly. Han is actually surprisingly soft spoken when it's just us. It's a side of him outsiders never see; he's quite the hail fellow well met in public, quick witted and something of a loudmouth. I cherish this about him, that only I get to see the softer side of Han Solo.

"I'm...tired." It's the most honest answer I can think of and in my present state, the least complicated.

"Come to bed," he says, helping me up and kissing me, his strong arms around me. He pulls back the covers on my side and tucks me in, kissing me again. His lips need to be classified as deadly weapons. "I'll be there in a moment."

He heads for the 'fresher and I can hear water running. A few minutes later, he's out, and I'm somewhere between waking and sleeping. He pulls on some sleep pants, and comes to bed. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his chest. I listen to his heartbeat, steady and sure. I start to cry again, and I have no idea why. My feelings are impossible to sort out right now.

"I'm sorry," I say to him.

He takes his thumb and dabs at the tears on my cheeks. "Don't be. This is a big thing."

"I'm not trying to make you miserable."

"I know that."

"I just...the timing is terrible."

"I don't think there's ever a good time or a bad time. There's just...time."

I consider that. "You don't seem unhappy."

"That's because I'm not, Princess, but that doesn't mean you have to feel that way."

The tears run again. Why am I crying? Maybe because my husband is being so kind and I don't deserve it? I don't know.

"It's all right, cry it out if you need to." He pulls me as close as he can to him, kisses my temple.

"I don't even know what I'm crying about."

"Who said you had to be crying about something? Maybe every once in a while She Who Wants To Be Everything To Everyone needs to let it out."

"Is that how you see me?"

"Yep. And everyone else."

"What do I do about it?"

"I don't know if you can do anything about it. Being hyperresponsible is who you are. I think it attracted me to you in a number of ways."

"Really?"

"Hey, you remember how I was when you met me."

I smile in spite of myself. "You were a mercenary. Arrogant, self righteous - "

"Hey, those were my good qualities!"

"I think I called you half witted."

"And don't forget scruffy looking nerfherder." That makes me chuckle. "Me, I spent all my time wondering what you looked like under that snowsuit."

Han is making me laugh in spite of myself. I hate this about him. And I love it about him.

Again, it dawns on me that this man brings something to my life I desperately need: balance. He accepts me for who I am. He's not letting my mixed feelings about this unanticipated pregnancy color his, and he's not telling me how I should feel.

"You're wearing my favorite shirt," he teases me gently. I'm wearing a T shirt he found while trying to enhance his guitar collection. It reads: 'She Who Must Be Obeyed.'

"And don't you forget it, flyboy," I say, smiling again.

"We'll bring it together," he assures me.

We kiss, and I fall asleep. I feel so safe with him.

And I trust him, that we will bring it together.