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It was late in the day, later than he realized. They spent way more time on the Falcon than he expected to, but it was well worth it.
It was almost as if nothing in those past two crazy days happened. As if he would wander off that entrance ramp and find himself back on the ice planet. But the little girl swirling around his legs kept him grounded in this reality.
It was like a hidden gem game as he walked around his haunts, searching with keen eyes to see what was out of place. He continued to find a few changes here and there, mostly to keep a kid out of the dangerous areas. There were door locks on the equipment sections and the smuggling compartments had been partially welded down. Continuing his search through the back, he eventually found himself in the mother of all room transformations.
He lingered once he stepped into the captain's quarters, his space. Only it had turned into their space. Just as similar as the rest of the ship was to his memory, that's how different the cabin looked. Someone had taken the time to repaint the fading cream walls in a crisp white and he didn't recognize any of the fresh, plump white linens that covered the bunk. There was a new end table bolted bedside the bed that held a few knickknacks, mainly some stray earrings and a few other pieces.
That wasn't the only change that was making his heart speed up. The open closet was peppered with clearly feminine clothes, both functional and elaborate. And a new piece of furniture in the room at the far end of the bed matched the crib that was in Rayah's room in the apartment. It, too, was bolted into the floor, into the mainframe of his ship.
Rayah jumped past him and onto the bed, completely unaware of the next wave of new shock and eventual acceptance this man was going through. He spent some of his time tinkering in his old realm and some playing with Rayah, letting her jump on the bed and finding the stash of animal figurines that were in her drawer. Apparently, Rayah had her own set of drawers in his beloved Falcon.
Half concentrating on the kid, the rest of Han's mind was picking up on the obvious metaphor that existed all around him. He was back on the Falcon, but it was structurally altered. Changed to accommodate Han Solo's new life. Nothing he experienced up until this point seemed so obviously distinct as this.
The hours ticked on and by mid afternoon, their littlest pilot had decided she had enough. And that was how he found himself returning to their apartment with a sleeping bundle in his arms.
There wasn't as much light streaming through the generous windows in the afternoon as there was in the morning and there weren't any internal lights on. It was quiet. Not that he expected Mon to still be there, but he wondered where Leia…
He didn't wait in suspense for long. She met him in the living space as she walked in from the back hallway.
"Hey," he whispered his greeting, tipping his head to show her why he was whispering.
A very tired girl laid her cheek on his shoulder, hair strewn over her face, mouth open, breathing deep and heavy. Her limbs were limp against his two-arm hold as he supported under her bottom.
He watched as she took in the scene, her face muscles immediately relaxing. Serene. That was the best word he could think of to describe her cerebral expression. Beautiful, but wistful.
"Rough day?" She said in a low voice as her eyes locked on Rayah.
He clicked his cheek. "She was busy."
Leia took the few steps to close the distance between herself and her daughter. "She's such a little dear." Her gentle hand came up to brush the locks of brown curls out of her face and towards the side of her head.
He adjusted his one arm slightly to keep it from falling asleep. "She liked the Falcon. Almost knew it better than I do."
"Did it change that much?" She asked without moving her eye line.
Han thought about how to answer that question. He didn't think he was ready to answer it honestly and he didn't think she was ready for him to answer it honestly. "No, not really,"
She sighed, a tired sigh. "That's good."
Now his arm really was falling asleep. "I'll put her in her bed," he whispered again as he stepped past Leia, carefully making his way down the hallway.
He felt her following him and knew for sure she was there when a hand reached out to palm the nursery door open. The first thing he noticed was that there was more light in this room rather than less. Someone had opened the window blind to let the afternoon sun in. The only person that could have possibly been was Leia and now she moved past him, further into the room, to close it.
If his memory was correct, he and Chewie also left the closet door open and her old pajamas were somewhere on the floor when he left. All of that was now altered and her spare toys completely tidy.
Continuing onto his main mission, he turned to the left and began contemplating the best way to successfully lower the sleeping bundle into her crib without waking her.
He must have paused too long and revealed his quandary.
"Put your left hand under her head."
The Princess had rarely steered him wrong, so he listened to her.
"Keep your other hand on her bottom and slowly lean her back."
He did it. His execution may not have been graceful, but she stayed asleep. He figured out the next part on his own as he lifted her away from his body and down onto the soft mattress, his teeth pressing together with the hope her eyes would remain blissfully closed.
His lips curled upwards as he removed his arms and her breathing stayed steady.
Her green blanket was draped over the edge. Leia stepped up to the crib and slid the blanket from the rim and over the sleeping babe. Patting her hip gently, she stepped away.
Han joined her with one peek back to make sure everything was still calm.
They felt it was safe to talk once they were in the living room. He flicked on the lights as they entered.
"Where's Chewie?" She asked turning back to him.
Han rubbed his hand through his hair and let out his own tired groan as he lowered himself into the sofa. "He's gettin' us some dinner. He'll be back soon."
She looked around for a moment before deciding to sit in the chair across from Han. "Thank goodness for him."
Han nodded gratefully. "He's one of a kind."
Neither of them knew what to say next. So they didn't say anything for awhile.
"Mon left," Han eventually stated after he slouched even further into the couch and crossed his ankle over his knee.
"She did," Leia confirmed the obvious. "She briefed me on the one key meeting tomorrow I'm prepped for."
His head rolled. He licked his lips. And then he spoke, anticipating the wrath that was bound to rain down on him. "You sure, Leia?"
"No Han," she retorted forcefully, anticipating his concern before he vocalized it. "I'm not sure about any of this."
She was angry, frustrated. But Han thought an emotional Leia was more preferred at this point than a stoic Leia.
She brought her voice down as she enunciated her next point clearly. "But I want to be more sure, someday. So this is something I need to do."
He heard her, but he didn't agree. "I know you think you need to do this."
"I do."
"Hey," he defended bringing his hands up in surrender. "I'm not arguing with you."
He clearly was arguing with her. But both of them decided to leave it there. He wasn't going to sway her and she was not going to relent. So they moved on.
"Mon gave me the number of the child care center," Leia shared as she finally leaned back more casually in her chair. "I'm not sure if we registered her yet or…"
"I'll stay with her tomorrow," he interrupted, casually but confidently.
"You will?"
This time, he understood her skepticism was warranted. "Well…" he let his arm rest against the back of the sofa as his fingers raised to knock on the head rest behind him. "I'll ask Chewie to stay too."
That answer seemed acceptable to her as she nodded and posited one step further. "Do you think he'll mind staying another night?"
Han didn't have to think about that as he nodded. "Life debt, remember?" Then he remembered something else he should share with her. "Apparently that extends to my… family as well."
He watched as she recognized his word choice. He didn't say 'my child.' Family… that meant her too.
"Hum." She tried the word on her own lips. "Family."
He snickered, tilting his head back. "Yeah, it's a foreign word to me."
If he had anything to do with opening up the conversation, he didn't mean to. But she took the opening. "You never mentioned a mother or father, siblings…"
His lips tightened as he cut her off. "Not much to mention. No siblings. Mother dead. Father left."
And that was all she needed to know right now. That was all anyone needed to know.
His master avoidance skills kicked in as he raised his chin and turned the tables. "And you, Princess?"
He knew she caught his digress when her smirk matched his. "I was adopted."
"Huh." He didn't recall her mentioning that before. And he found it hard to believe a fact like that slipped by without his intense notice. "By the Organas?"
She nodded. "When I was a baby. I never knew another family."
There was that word again, family. And he knew what happened to her Organa family. "I've said it before, but I'm sorry."
Her back straightened, hands clasped again tightly in her lap. Her walls were back up. "It's done. And it's been three years now."
His eyes stared her down, continuing to push. "Doesn't mean it's not still raw."
"Speaking from experience?"
And now she was turning the tables. Her challenging eyes met his, daring him to either open up or back off. He chose the latter.
"Okay, let's change the subject…"
She started to pick at the fabric flowing down her legs, asking one more thing before closing the subject. "Will I get to hear the story of the scruffy young scoundrel someday?"
He liked how she said that, the lightness and delight in her voice. "Only if I get to hear about the little strong-headed Princess."
"It's a deal." Her head nodded, affirming their verbal commitment on an up note. "Someday."
There was another pause that almost went on for too long.
"What'd…" he started, his voice seemingly louder than necessary. "You and Mon talk about?"
She shrugged playfully. "Nothing too heavy, just intergalactic peace, etcetera."
His eyebrows raised. "Glad someone's mind is on that."
"It's what my mind was shaped to do." Her wording was awkward, but he understood her meaning. The meetings, the briefings, the negotiations, that was all what was familiar to her.
He stretched his arms once again around the back of the couch. "For me, it felt good to be back on the Falcon. Something familiar."
Her head bobbed with understanding as her eyes lowered and then slowly raised again. "Maybe I can join you next time."
With his mouth slightly agape, he nodded. "Sure." He liked the sound of that. He liked the idea that she might also feel more comfortable on his ship, more grounded.
"Anything that can spark a memory."
"That's what I said."
"Did it?" She asked, hope in her voice.
He was disappointed that he had to shake his head. "Nothin' from the past four years. I'm still on Hoth in my own memories. Chewie filled me in some…"
"On what?" That sparked her curiosity.
His mind reeled again at the conversation he had with Chewie. He wasn't going to lie to her, just not say the whole truth… yet. "Just about findin' Lando," he shrugged.
"I did my own exploration of this place while you were out."
"I was wonderin' 'bout that." He was sure that was why Rayah's room was now cleaner. "Find any skeletons?"
She tilted her head as half her face scrunched nonchalantly. "Only the one, but I called Mon and she just told me that was my first husband."
He was sure she was joking. He was positive she was joking. But his voice failed to work as a cough choked him.
"I'm kidding!" She exclaimed, her stomach contracting with her laughter as he heaved over in a coughing fit.
"What did you do that for!" His body raised as he glared at her with crazed eyes. "Do you want me in an early grave?" He brought his fist to his mouth for a few more coughs before holding his palm at her. "Don't answer that!"
Thought it was at his expense and his throat now felt raw, he was glad to see her laugh.
After he cleared his throat one last time, she calmed down enough to share actual information. "There's an office in the room beside ours. There's a lot more government files in there and a few of our personal files. I found your military orders including the address of your home base office on planet."
He was now sitting forward, his elbows resting against his spread knees. "That'll be helpful." It certainly would be. He was once again grateful she had thought about things like this.
"We can look through them together later," she offered as he nodded. "Then there's two other guest rooms each with their own 'fresher."
"Yeah, found one of those 'freshers last night."
He meant it as a statement of fact. He didn't mean to make her feel bad about last night again. But that's the way she took it.
"Look…" Her lips pressed together and her head dropped, studying her joined hands before speaking again. "We can keep sharing the closet space if you want…" Her voice hesitated and then sped up. "Or we can move one of us into a guest room… I'll move my things if…"
"Actually Princess…"
He interrupted before he knew what he wanted to say. He heard what she was offering through her babbling. Yeah, it made sense. But it didn't align with what he wanted in the long term.
Thinking quickly, he continued. "This sofa is more comfortable than you might think." His hands pressed into the firm foam, doing his best to fake satisfaction.
With the sass of the Leia he played with on Hoth, she rolled her eyes. "Is it really?"
She caught his bluff, but he continued the fiction. "Oh yeah! And I'd hate to lug everything out of there when it fits so nicely… If that's okay with you."
He swallowed as she continued to stare at him, analyzing him. Probably trying to gauge his motive. Honestly, he hoped she could see through to his motive. He wanted her to see that he wanted them to grow closer together, not further apart. Separate bedrooms seemed permanent. The couch… temporary.
Leia was smart, so he expected she knew all this already when she gave him her answer. "It's okay with me."
It was a simple statement, but for him it meant that they were on a good path, moving forward not backward.
With a hopeful spark ignited within him, he slapped his knee and moved to his feet. "I might jump in the 'fresher before dinner. Got messier than expected at the Falcon."
He was sure her keen eye noticed the grease stains that not only colored his shirt, but also his forehead and neck.
Her grin said she did. "I don't think myself or future Leia would ever protest about you wanting to clean up…" Her eyes turned up, making sure she had his attention before she finished her sentence. "In our 'fresher."
So she did know what he wasn't saying.
His lips parted, gaze moving across the room as he nodded before moving towards the back of their apartment. His last words were loud enough for her to hear.
"Good to know."