Christa barreled through the saloon like a mad woman. For the first time in her life she couldn't talk to him. Nor could she look at him. A year ago she'd have thrown herself in his arms or at his feet. But things had changed. Han saw to that. Obi-Wan's life as a Jedi saw to that, as did his love for Siri. After all, that is where he spent his time, not with her, not with their son.

And where was Kaivo when she needed him? Tobias? Anybody who could possibly stave him off?

Christa rushed into the suite and clasped the locks on the door. She looked at Han. He stopped nursing to stare at her, mouth agape as her heart drummed in her chest and her chest rose and fell in pants. The child, too distracted to nurse started to wail.

She pulled the sling over his head again then stroked him through the blanket.

"Please, be quiet, Han" she muttered, patting him softly.

Obi-Wan knocked on the door and her adrenaline suddenly pumped like an oil drill.

He stood on the other side of the door hands clasped behind his back. He knew she was in there. He knew, she knew that he knew she was in there. So what took her so long? The fact that she hadn't rushed him at the market and thrown herself in his arms after all they'd been through and after all the separation actually hurt.

But not as much as her refusal to let him into the suite.

"What do you want?" she called.

"I have a letter," he said.

"Slide it under the door," Christa answered.

"I've been instructed to deliver it in person." He was certain she'd heard that one before.

Christa sighed and unclasped the lock. The sight of him upon opening the door, to Obi-Wan's eyes, brought a look of utter exasperation to her face.

But for Christa, it was like her heart had been un-caged. He was so virile, so brutally and devastatingly handsome. The groomed beard, the muscular build, the warm steel blue eyes, the sharp intense stare within them as he engaged her, trapping her in his gaze.

He wrapped his arms around her body in what felt like an embrace, little Han in between them. Christa recoiled at first, but his arms tensed and drew her even closer.

Obi-Wan held her eyes in his own, and didn't see the love. Only worry. And despite his physical recovery, his senses were still too weak to ferret out her true feelings. Much had changed indeed. Yoda said his powers will return. But something blocked him. There was a dark cloud of some kind, blocking the energy of the force much like a cloudy sky as it blocked light from the sun.

Christa thought he was going to kiss her as his neck arched and his face drew close to hers. But instead, she felt his fingers tickle her spine as he unclasped the back of Han's carrier.

He pulled the wriggling infant from the sling and held him at arms length as he gazed into his face.

He looked like Christa. Deep gold, tanned skin, straight dark hair with a copper tint. His eyes were brown like hers. The baby drooled. It rolled out of his mouth and dribbled down his shirt, soaking the neckline of his shirt with slobber. Han's arms and legs flailed helplessly, he didn't seem to like being held that way, with nothing around him. Obi-Wan could tell Christa probably kept him close to her warm body.

Obi-Wan suddenly craved that closeness.

Han sucked his fist, then suddenly, brought it down and bopped Obi-Wan on top of the head. He blinked, lowered the boy, and held him close to his chest. Normally, his senses would have prevented something like that. He smiled.

"He looks exactly you," Obi-Wan said warmly. A twinkle in his eye brought creases to the corners of them. Christa liked when he smiled like that.

And suddenly, she cracked. The ice in her eyes melted like an ice cube under the fiery blue blaze of a blow torch. Obi-Wan didn't need his senses to know that something within her buckled.

He leaned forth, and their lips met. The kiss was short, friendly, but as warm as the planet's core. Han, sandwiched between them pulled Obi-Wan's beard, ending the kiss sooner than he wanted it to end. But he felt a tremendous amount of care and concern for the boy. It didn't matter who his father was. Christa would tell him in her own time. Perhaps, she won't tell him at all in fear of ruining his career. Either way, he would not force her.