A note: if you've read my other work this won't come be a surprise, but I'm giving an overarching trigger warning for references (no depictions) to rape/non-con. I will try to note at the top of the chapter when these references occur, but they're sometimes small enough to slip my notice. As a head's up, there are some here. Also, the rating will be bumped up within the next three chapters.

5: Out There

Things always got away from her so quickly and more often than not her interventions were not about stopping but about slowing down. One moment there was an Alderaan and then there wasn't, one moment she was alone in her cell on the Death Star and then she wasn't. Quick flips from diplomat to prisoner, from sitting up rigid to slamming onto her back spread wide. Single seconds made her biological father transform from a mystery to Darth Vader. Showed her rescue of Han to be a failure.

Good things took time: Leia knew this. The journey from Padme Amidala's body to her mother's arms, from baby-hair to waist-length locks, from first meeting Han to their first kiss. That very first kiss itself, how it was slow and luxurious, their mouths inching closer together as time seemed to stretch out indefinitely. Even every failed attempt at sex had been worth it for that time when everything had finally aligned so perfectly. This principle meant that Leia was extremely wary of hastily-released information and rushed announcements – she needed to control so much and the spread of information, especially about her personal life, was one of those things.

Which meant that at four-and-a-half months pregnant the only people who knew she was going to have a baby were Han Solo, Luke Skywalker, and Chewbacca – and, technically, a doctor she'd visited off-world under a false name for a check-up. (That appointment – how angry Han had been about the alias and the dark glasses and the scarf on her head, the way she'd say like it was no-big-thing, You'll need an alias too if you were planning on coming along. Of course he was planning on coming along.) She took information control very, very seriously and she might have gone longer without saying a word had the information not come out via somebody else's loud mouth.

Because really, the instant she did it – and it truly wasn't much of an it, the movement really just a very light rub of her abdomen that could have meant anything, had she been more careful about the tightness of her blouse it might have been avoided – she realized her mistake, and already she began calculating the looser clothes she could wear in compensation for the next few days. She powered through the moment like she always did, moving briskly into the analytics section of the briefing she was leading regarding an upcoming exploratory mission.

And really, how many recruits could possibly have heard the low whisper from about three rows back? Maybe the half-dozen immediately surrounding? But that was it – and half-dozen people privy to think the ice princess might be knocked up was nothing she couldn't handle with a curt glance and firm dismissal. Not the first time people had called her cold, and not even the first time people had thought her pregnant – though yes, it was the first time they were right. Right – this time they were right.

But her – boyfriend, lover, partner, however he was being referred to in relation to her these days – twisting around and drawling, voice low and wry, Watch it, that's my kid you're talking about? That she was not quite sure how to come back from. That definitely warranted more than the withering death-glare she gave him before returning, straight-backed and haughty, to the briefing she was now determined to finish despite the flood of whispering. It definitely warranted more, but she might as well start there.

Afterwards, she strode right up to him with her arms crossed – he was still sitting, because of course he was, languid and chatty and comfortable. "Could I have a word with you, please?" Her voice razor sharp as she jerked her head and strode to a private corner out in the hall. And then sharper still, hissing, lethal: "What was that about?"

His stance was defensive. "Princess, people were going to find out eventually – sounded like they already did."

"That doesn't mean you confirm it––"

"You know, this whole – game of pretending you're not when you are s'been getting real old––"

"I wanted to tell people on my own terms and you took that from me – you humiliated me."

"S'this humiliating now?" He gestured vaguely between them.

"Oh, stop that, don't be so sensitive––"

"Because signs point to yes––"

"Obviously it isn't humiliating! Obviously! Han, I'm carrying your – how could you say something like that?"

He plowed again: "'Cause I understand being superstitious but at this point you're more than halfway there – why the big secret?"

"Because I want to keep my life private, you know this––"

"Great but it's not just your life anymore," he snapped.

She shut her eyes in frustration. "Right, I'm sorry – I forgot I'm not an I anymore but a we, how could I have been so selfish––"

"You can be real nasty, you know that?"

"Well excuse me! I'm only a twenty-three year old trying to keep dozens of troops out of harm's way in between my busy schedule as a we––"

"Folks know you're pregnant, Your Worship, they're just being real polite – you look pregnant––"

"I do not!"

"And why the hell would that be such a bad thing?"

"I can't take this – obsession with my weight and what I eat – looking that way is problematic merely because it means I can't keep things private – how is this so hard to––"

"And how do you think that makes me feel, huh? Folks know we're a couple, they can see that you're having a baby, but no one's sayin' a word? Makes me out like a – fucking – lowlife who doesn't care about you and––"

"Because everyone needs to see at all times that I'm yours––"

"Because everyone can see m'not good enough for you and they never let you or me forget it for a goddamn second! And it feels like shit––"

..Shit. Leia grimaced and leaned closer to the mirror, inspecting the glob of mascara she'd blinked onto her eyelid. How long had it been since she'd fully completed this ritual? Since before the baby was born? Long enough that she'd forgotten to wipe the excess off of the wand before bringing it to her lashes, apparently. Sighing, she wet a piece of tissue and started again.

She thought of the first time she wore eyeliner or a cupped bra – how her reflection had looked outlandish, cartoonish. The cupped bra in particular – her mother was insistent that this is what "real bras" looked like but Leia, thirteen and looking at the way it padded her barely-there curves and changed the way her dress fell, was mortified. Everyone will be able to tell I'm wearing it! I look different from how I did without it! Like that first day in white, the awkward walk of knowing everyone knew she'd started her cycle; like looking at herself in lipstick for the first time and being sure she saw a clown looking back; like standing in the mirror naked and staring at the ways her body began to contort into a mother's: purple lines, white lines, bulges, breasts. Unnatural made natural over time, things she got used to. So maybe she looked silly in makeup right now but that was only because it had been a while, soon she'd be back to wearing it every day and the Leia Organa in the mirror would be her again and would not make a mistake as silly as too much mascara on her wand.

After fixing her makeup, she added another pin to her hair to secure a stray lock and felt almost embarrassed at what a pleasure it was, to put every piece in place. Her hair, too, was meticulously done today, not too severe but worlds better than the loose bedraggled mess it'd been for weeks, close to the girlish style she'd arrived at Cloud City in. Feminine but under control, like a princess or a very diligent young mother.

Appearances were important to her. They gave her security. The taupe trousers and white blouse she was wearing, the uncomfortable bra she was bearing, the shoes instead of slippers – armor. Today she was going to make her private life public and she was damn well going to orchestrate her appearance to at least hide the fact that she'd slept maybe three hours the night before. She was taking the baby to the Falcon with Han and she was going to walk through the base with the stroller looking professional and serious and she was going to do a little bit of work while Han worked on the ship and look normal and, by looking normal and being seen as normal, she was going to feel normal.

This, she admittedly knew, was not exactly why Han wanted her to make this trek into the outside world – had a lot more to do with his idea of family and possibly getting her out of the house in the meantime than her creating the public appearance of post-partum bliss. But if she could accomplish both at once, all the better.

(And too, she thought as she drifted back to the kitchenette to finish packing up her bag, if she could convince Han that she had it under control more, that she was doing better, maybe things would feel better between them? Regardless of whether or not she was?)

He was pulling on his boots with one hand, pushing the baby back and forth in the stroller with the other, and he smiled genuinely at her – "You look great."

"I feel like I'm wearing a costume," she said lightly.

"It's a good one, then."

"Well, I try."

"Thanks," he said, smiling broadly at her again, "for coming with me today."

"Not like I have anywhere else to be," she quipped, but she smiled too before waving a datapad. "I'm bringing this, okay?"

He nodded in that slow, what're-you-up-to way. "Okay, sure."

She went to put it in the bag, then frowned and pulled out the topmost item. "Han," she said flatly, holding up the pump and giving him a peeved look.

He met her gaze and merely raised his eyebrows. "You," he said, pointing at her, "are getting some sleep tonight."

She twitched her lips and placed it back in the bag, thinking If only Ben was the only thing keeping me awake. Indeed, last night had been particularly ugly on the nightmare front – but then maybe there was something sweet about him saying he knew she had other things on her mind than just nightmares, downplaying them. Or maybe he knew tonight she'd have to sleep double in compensation?

Ugly was the right word to him too even though it sounded like the wrong one. Had been the sort of night terror he hated most of all – not only the rare kind that ended in her rushing to the bathroom to vomit, but also the kind in which he could figure out the content pretty quickly. Leia crying out in the bed next to him: No, I hate it – I hate it! Also the kind in which rather than her waking up at a screaming peak, dream-Leia seemed to give up, resign herself, just whimper. Left him feeling like he was always too late by the time he shook her awake, at which point she was stony and solemn and still. Going "somewhere else," as she called it, and then rushing off to be sick while he tried to soothe the baby back to sleep. That righteous screaming slamming around the inside of his head – I hate it! I hate it! I hate it! Too easy to fill in the details. Thoughts racing ahead of him before he could stop them – would Ben ever be able to fill them in? The kind of thing that made him gag to think of.

Took him a second to realize Leia had swept over to the couch and taken the stroller from him, had started talking to the baby – "And you're going to be excellently behaved, aren't you? And afterwards we'll have to give you another bath, because you'll certainly be very filthy after spending time on such an ancient, decrepit ship. But I think you're starting to like baths now, from what I can tell. Now that you've discovered how to splash your mam?"

The same voice that called out in sleep for mercy and chilled him to his bones, that sent him crashing into her room with a blaster drawn on their first overnight mission together. Hair swept back, dressed all nice, talking to the baby nice and easy. Heading for the door and indicating that he should grab Ben's first favorite toy, the little stuffed thing from Luke somewhere between a Wookiee and an ewok, all while maintaining the bright, clever chatter, all while on three hours of sleep, all while looking like a vision of youth and hope and optimism. Leia who confessed she was lonely, empty, isolated, sad – shit, you could blink and miss a thing like that. Right?

XX.

It took her a second to remember how to roll back her shoulders and walk tall, but after that second passed she began to feel her pulse calm, her grip on the stroller relax. One perfect gift Ben was giving her: she could always look at him to avoid eye contact with others. If people stopped and looked at her they usually gave that up pretty quickly after she didn't look back at them and kept walking. And bless Han, really, for his light grip around her shoulders and the way he was steering her ahead and his disinterest in conversation and the fact that people didn't expect polite chatter from him so she could wear his brusqueness like a cloak, or an excuse. So sorry I can't stop to chat and let you put your hands all over my child and struggle through blithe smalltalk on three hours of sleep, my roguish husband likes to move quickly! You know how men can be.

Still, though – as they moved from their unit to the hangar, she could feel every set of eyes on them, caught glimpses as Han gave quick nods and she gave brief smiles, taking in the spectacle of a married couple and a baby on a military base. Cloistered away for five weeks, she had almost forgotten they were famous, that people looked at her and expected things from her and felt a bit ownership over her. And too – that in a not-quite-real-world of this remote base there were only individuals dedicated to a cause. As they passed young, fit recruit after young, fit recruit she felt her choices thrown in sharper relief than she thought possible. Something like how she felt when medical shipped in a sonogram machine for her, how she had to bring diapers and a baby blanket and a bitty hat in the bag she brought to give birth. This far-off world not built with young women as leaders in mind – constructed for every disaster and threat other than dear princesses needing ramps down which to push strollers.

"They could at least be subtle about it," Han was muttering, ushering her forward more quickly.

"They're curious, I've been gone for awhile," she murmured in response, reaching out to stroke Ben's soft little chin until he cooed. "And they're with us, they're serving the Alliance––"

"Doesn't mean they get to gawk."

"People like babies, Han..."

"He's our baby. Not theirs."

"I know," she said, a little peeved, a little louder. "That's why I don't allow any photographs – it's why I only go for walks very early in the morning. I'm very particular about this issue, you should know that."

"Yeah," he sighed. "I know."

His grip around her shoulders tightened as they strode past rows of ships towards the Falcon, the stroller and her heeled boots clattering on the ground. Leia tracked the people they passed subtly, out of the corner of her eye, trying to seem calm and put-together and engrossed in the baby. "Wait!" she whispered, stopping short. "I want to greet Wedge."

"You want to – Antilles?"

"Because of Luke," she hissed emphatically, guilt still surging through her at everything she didn't notice – she would revisit that guilt again and again, sister falling somewhere shortly after wife and lover on her list of inadequacies, and she strode over to where the Corellian was at work. "Hello there," she called, waving lightly.

"Hey, Your Highness!" Wedge Antilles, climbing down from some absurd position on an X-Wing, rubbing his hands on his pants before reaching out for – something like a handshake, something like a hug?

In a rare, guilty display of physical affection towards anyone other than Han and Luke, she hugged him. He seemed – a bit surprised, but did his best to hug her best while being careful of the grease on his hands and her white shirt. She, for her part, felt a surge of purpose – make this man feel comfortable, make her family seem appealing, like something worth joining, she could do that, couldn't she? "How are you? It's been––" So long since I haven't seen you kissing my brother? "Well. I feel like I haven't been out in ages."

"Yeah, you're like the lovely ghost of the base, eh? This the little guy?"

"Oh – yes, here––" She reached down and scooped Ben up, trying to hold him on her hip in a way that seemed charming, familial, endearing. She kissed the top of the baby's head affectionately and flashed a smile. "Yes, this is our son." Our son. It still made her heart race just a bit to say it.

"Aw, he's real cute – got big fast, hm?"

"You know, it doesn't feel quite so fast when you're up to your elbows in baby things for hours at end. Council meetings on Hoth never felt as tedious."

"At least least you're not frozen solid these days."

"Ah, but diapers only smell a teensy bit better than tauntaun dung."

Wedge snorted. "Least baby shit's smaller," he said, and Leia covered her mouth with a hand and gasped and grinned on cue.

Han came up behind her and she could feel the skepticism – not at Wedge but at her posturing, he could always see through this sort of thing – rolling off of him. "Antilles."

"Solo, hey – helluva cute kid you've got there."

"I think so." He threw his arm around her shoulders casually. "Takes after her side of the family – they're an attractive bunch, don't you think?"

"Ah," Wedge said, flustered, rubbing his neck. "So Luke..."

"Only because I – saw you two in the morning," Leia blurted out, shushing the baby who, apparently feeding on her anxiety, had started to whimper. "I mean, he isn't the type to betray trust, is what I mean. That is, he doesn't blab – he takes discretion very – as do I, of course, and––"

Wedge was still rubbing his neck, though – "No, I – uh, I think he'd been trying to – planning on telling you for a bit, so…" He gave her an apologetic-yikes sort of half smile, and she tried to keep her features from collapsing. Trying to, planning on… and you were too self-absorbed to––

"Well," Leia said, pasting her smile back on and shifting her grasp on Ben as he began to fuss in earnest. "Either way, glad to be in the loop – we'll have to – sometime, the four of us, or––"

"Sweetheart," Han muttered, nudging her and flicking his gaze to the baby pointedly.

"Yeah, 'course," Wedge said generously, "but go on, tend to your kid. Good running into you guys, glad I got to meet him." He paused for just a beat before continuing, "Glad to see you out and about, Princess."

Glad to see you out and about? Glad to see you out––? "Yes, I – shh, 'loved, come on now, sh-sh-sh…" She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her lips to the top of the baby's head as she bounced, mortified as Ben's cries drew other curious eyes. Eyes, always, on her, always. Glad to see you out and about – why the pause, what was he trying to say – she told Han everything, did Luke tell Wedge Antilles everything – did he tell him that she'd confessed feeling painfully low and lonely – did he know about Vader – did he know about everything that had happened to her? It didn't make her feel unhappy so much as desperately uncomfortable, exposed, embarrassed – the thought of there suddenly being another person who could look at her and see right through her composed posture and demure smile, who knew saw all that all over her... looked at her with special private knowledge of her body, what she looked like crying, what she screamed about in sleep… there was a reason, then, that she and Han kept to themselves… "Yes – I'm glad too."

XX.

Leia stepped back out of this second embrace with her friend and sighed. "Is it written all over my face, then?" she asked, moving to make herself a cup of kaffe.

[What?]

"That I'm the sort of person who needs extra hugs and whatnot these days."

[Or maybe I just missed ya.]

"Has Han told you that I've been…"

[That you've been…?]

She frowned, but inside felt relief – either Han hadn't told Chewie about this dense spell of sadness, or (more likely) had honed in on the utmost importance of pretending not to know about it. Preserving her dignity, a bit. "Nothing, never mind. I'm sorry it's been so long, I've been so – preoccupied, with the baby."

[Grew some since the last time I saw him.]

"I really am sorry." She sighed, sitting down with her mug. She could hear Han's voice wafting through the ship, enthusing to the baby throughout the newborn's little tour and gave a bit of a smile. "He really wanted us to come out here."

[Only home he knows.]

"I feel similarly. I mean, I wish I could show the baby mine, but…"

[You look tired, princess.]

"Gee," she said, sighing heavily. "Thanks."

[It's understandable, you have a newborn. But – you look more tired than your husband.]

Leia said nothing, sipped her kaffe.

[He likes to help – to fix things. If you let him.]

"I don't really need another person reminding me to let Han help," she muttered, peeved. "I'm not hogging a toy, I'm home with the baby."

[That's all I'm gonna say, forget I said anything.]

"Right. Right." She took a deep, long breath. "I'm sorry, I really am sorry – I'm sorry we haven't – I haven't – Ben and I haven't. I don't want you to think that your friendship doesn't – it's just very hard, to find the energy to get all the way down here… I guess it's not exactly the same as always, is it?"

[Not quite, no….]

"I suppose that was a bit naive, to think it would be? To think that we could just – add a baby to the whole equation and everything would be mostly the same? But it's like the whole dynamic now is just so… I don't know."

[It is different. But that may not be a bad thing.]

"It does sort of – expose how shoddy some of the – my mind is such a mess, ugh – I'm on three hours of sleep…"

[See! How can you get offended when someone says you look tired?]

"Because women aren't supposed to look anything but lovely," she said snidely, rolling her eyes. "What I mean was – everything's shifted and it sort of – shows how fragile some things we thought were so solid really were. If that makes sense?"

[Ah, yes. Putting stress on a beam that had never had any weight on it. Looked sturdy before, but that was because it wasn't having to bear anything.]

"I don't mean our – marriage, relationship, what have you," she said hastily, flushing. "I just mean – the fact that I don't actually think, ah…" She lowered her voice a tad: "I don't actually think Han knows what he wants to do, now that the war is winding down? It's not like he's going to go back to smuggling..."

[Something I understand very much, yes.]

"In what way?"

[Ah, just – you, this, the new cub….] He gestured vaguely. [It is less clear where a Life Debt fits into all that.]

"How do you mean…?"

[Just that he is starting a new life, a different life, with you and your child. A life that does not need so much protection. But also a life I cannot imagine not being part of – it's something I've been considering, recently. And I imagine he's thinking along those lines about himself.]

"About him––"

[Princess, he has been outrunning different enemies for as long as we have known each other – Imperials, bounty hunters, Hutts, then the villains trying to bring down the Alliance. It's hard to know where to fly next when suddenly you have a lot more options that just Away, Fast As Possible.]

She frowned deeply. "I suppose, but I never––"

[And I think after this war? Many beings will find themselves in similar positions. You and other elites were more – running towards a New Republic, if you will. Most were trying to merely run away from the Empire. Having spent so much time fleeing, they don't know where to go when not being chased.]

She had opened her mouth to reply, something about But I hardly know where to go either, and the only reason I have a semblance of an idea was very much an accident, when suddenly Han was with them, holding the baby close. "And then the galley, with your mama and your Uncle Chewie…" He looked between them, frowning. "You guys alright?"

"Fine," Leia said, "just sleepy." She put on a smile, thoughts still racing. "How's your tour going?"

"Goo-ood," he sing-songed, back in that light, high voice he used with the baby, grinning at him and tickling his stomach, "we're just pausing because we both got a little hungry…"

She gave him a look. "Is that a cue, or…?"

"Listen, taking care of a ship takes hard work," he said to the baby, grinning and content. He handed Leia Ben before rifling around for something to eat, his good mood evident in everything from the way he moved to the way he assembled a sandwich.

[I'll give you some privacy,] Chewie said, but before he left the room he gave Leia a look as if to underline their conversation.

"I ruin every party," Leia sighed. "I start to unbutton my shirt and everyone flees…"

"Nah, Chewie just knows you're intense about being modest an' private," Han said lightly. He placed a sandwich in front of her before sitting across from her with his own.

"Intense?"

"From – y'know, missions and stuff, the way you are about the 'fresher." He shifted awkwardly. "And with nights – actually a light sleeper, believe it or not, so…"

She felt her features begin to fill with shame, thought of her violent nightmares the night before, how she'd had those same ones on the ship so many times, was always anxious about Luke finding out what had happened and she never even considered––

"Hey, Leia, don't – it's no big thing, I never said anything about anything, he just––"

"Put it together?"

"I don't think he really has thought about it that much––"

"What is it I say?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. "That makes it so – can it possibly be that obvious?"

He looked more uncomfortable still. "Uh. Not much that's coherent."

"Han… I won't be mad, I just want to know what I say."

"You said I hate it," he said, not looking at her, his voice flattening a bit. "You do a lot of don't-touch-me, a lot of please. And then just – I hate it, I hate it."

She felt her face burning – you like it, don't you? You fucking love it––

"Sweetheart, can we – I promise no one's––"

"Right, yes," she said, and she forced herself to snap out of it and she put on a smile. "You know," she said after a moment, "you're very funny, with him."

"How'm I funny, sweetheart?" he said slowly, appearing to play along.

"You're just so easily amused by the baby."

"Just glad you're here. Nice to see you like this."

"Like what?"

"Dunno – here, with him. And me. Just like to see all of us together someplace that's home."

His home, a voice in her head murmured, but she mostly ignored it. "Now if only we could get a crib out here. Maybe we'd get fewer noise complaints."

"Psh, that's easy. But dunno if Your Highness will be able to sleep in a bunk after months in big, cushy bed."

"It's true, I've gotten used to sleeping without all of your heat wrapped tight around me to fit."

"You ever miss it?"

"Maybe a bit." She gave him a little grin as if to say please? See? Everything is fine, it's all fine. "Though it got a little too roomy there towards the end, with the belly and all."

"Aw, but that was the best part," he said, and she flushed. He grinned – "Love that I can still make you do that."

"What?"

"Blush like that. I love it."

"Still?" she said, flushing further despite herself. "You talk like we've been together for ages. Do it successfully after ten years of marriage and then I'll be impressed."

"You will be."

"Good to know."

"Hey, you uh – you get any work done? I know you wanted to…" He glanced over at the datapad beside her. "Anything interesting?"

She shifted the baby and frowned. "Oh, no, I––" Was actually just talking about you instead of working, was talking about whether or not I should ever worry about you, was talking about what's next for you, what comes next–– "No, nothing of note."

"What's this on the screen?" He was frowning and held out the datapad to her.

"Oh, nothing. It's for this silly little media blitz the communications team is organizing, for the elections." What comes next for you, Han? This is what comes next for me – do you resent that?

"Media blitz...?"

"The thing about democracy is you can't just give it to people, they have to take it and utilize it, so if there isn't turn out for these first senatorial elections it's going to be both useless and also an embarrassment – evidence for Imps, the people don't care, those voted into office are illegitimate-"

"Sure, sure––"

"So they're doing a marketing campaign in some of the more densely populated regions and one of them features a holo of me, I suppose because they can trot me out to remind people of the Empire's evils..."

"C'I see it?"

"If you really want, it's nothing of note." She burped the baby and held him close – suddenly, the emotion he reached out to her with was blue and cold and shadowy – lonely and scared. Was that from her? Or from Han, or…? She pressed him close to her chest with both arms, like some secret, tiny thing, like she was trying to keep her heart from spilling outside of her body. Rotated at the waist back and forth. His thoughts flushed to a soft green of breathing easy.

Han kept frowning at the datapad. "This is... a lot," he said slowly. What comes next, now that you aren't fleeing?

"Mm. I know, somebody should've stopped me from wearing white on white so soon after having a baby." That you aren't running away? Do I know what's next? This is what's next for me...

"What? No – what?" He shook his head firmly. "No – just. You – it's really – uh, intense."

She glanced at the image again over the baby's head, considered it. Intense wasn't incorrect. The image was mostly empty – Leia herself was placed just to the edge of the frame. She was wearing those slender trousers she favored, her white pair, and the high-collared white blouse with all the tiny black buttons tight up her spine, and her shining black boots. Her hair was braided over her head in the practical, sturdy style she'd made use of mostly on Hoth.

And she was slightly turned from the viewer, her posture defensive and edgy, strapped to her visible hip was a very sizable blaster, and the swaddled baby was cupped tightly – protectively – to her chest. The only movement in the holo was the flickering of her gaze – to Ben's face, then out to the viewer, then back. No smile. Furthest thing from one. Below, in bold, black text: SECURITY.

"It's silly," Leia said again, but looking at it she felt a rush of pride – a single day she'd spent doing something relevant, being relevant, being briefed on a plan. "They've got all these people roped into it – there's one of little Poe, his back, running and playing or something? And it just says Freedom. It's supposed to be minimalist, articulating new freedoms while also demonstrating their ephemerality––"

"You look––"

"I know."

"It's kinda – sexy." He sounded more unnerved than anything. And just like the regular ol' untouchable virgin princess they've always made you out as.

"Yeah, right," she snorted.

"It's – you look real... powerful, s'what I mean." You look defensive, he thought to himself. You look like you did on Hoth – like you're sizing up the threat of everyone around you. You look like it's you against the world, you and him all alone. "When'd ya do these?"

"You mean in between nursing and changing your child? I found some time," she teased.

"Guess I would've ruined the shot?" Kriff, he sounded way too needy. But also – who did the New Republic think it was, propping her up in these photos with his kid as though he didn't even exist, as though she was always scared... making her look like this guarded, edgy person he knew she wasn't any more…

"Oh, hush. You'd have been distracting, it's not a fashioncampaign, we don't want people stopping to contemplate your ass, we want them to vote."

"You look – different," he concluded, barely hearing her. "Sorry I – it's just really, uh, surreal."

"I look matronly," she said, wrinkling her nose, "and slovenly."

"You look like you're back on Hoth."

"Give or take a few pounds––"

"Cut that out," he snapped.

Leia made a show of closing her mouth obediently and raised her eyebrows high, articulating her displeasure in just a look. If that's how you're going to talk to me.

'"What I mean is you look – y'look – y'look like you're ready for someone to jump out an' attack you guys. You an' him. Like you've been up all night, waitin'."

She gave a weak laugh. "I am up all night, hotshot."

"Sorry, sweetheart, I dunno what – sorry." He shook his head. "It's a good shot, sexy as hell, like I said. I'd vote." Sexy in the old Leia way, not the new Leia way – sexy like I wanna take you up against a wall and make you lower your guard. Not sexy like home.

"Oh, please. I'm holding the baby, Han."

"S'my baby," he retorted, kissing her.

She gave him a skeptical half-smile and fixed her gaze back down at Ben, who was dozing lightly against her. Meanwhile, he looked at the holo again, his face expressionless. If he were in it, he would stride up next to them and wrap his arms around her and she would smile and laugh and roll her eyes and flush. Ease up, feel comfortable. Like a family.

He put his arms around her suddenly, then, tight, pressing his face to her neck and inhaling.

"Han––?"

He was rocking her back and forth a bit and it almost felt right again, the way it had moments before.

"You're gonna wake the––"

"No m'not. Leia, just – shh, alright? Just––..." He shook his head and just held her there, at the kitchen table, him pressed tight against her with his eyes shut, her holding the baby close as she dared. His feelings bright yellow, warm, home, precious. Han was murmuring something as he rocked the three of them, maybe it was just shh, she couldn't tell. The baby's eyes were shut too, like his father's. She knew this because hers were open.

Bit of a transition chapter as we move forward. Thank you for being the best reviewers; those of you who comments are all so lovely!