Searching for a good Han and Leia fic I had yet to read, I discovered many, many fics that take place after Balance Point. Having not finished Balance Point yet (I'm fifty pages away from the end of it though), I decided to write a fic that takes places between Dark Tide and Agents Of Chaos, while Han was a grief-stricken idiot. WARNING! Very mushy, very plotless. Enjoy!

{Note: This is the first in a series of missing moments, similar to this one. I'm currently working on one illustrating the scene Jacen witnesses, mentioned in Balance Point.}

*****

Leia extinguished lights as she made her way through the apartment towards the stairs. Sighing, she mounted the stairs to her and Han's bedroom. Or what had seemed more like her bedroom alone lately. More often than not, she would awaken to find a comatose Han on the floor after touring his favorite tapcafes.

Leia wasn't sure if it was good or bad that Han wasn't drunk tonight. She would have preferred to be Jabba the Hutt's sex slave again than spend the night in the same bed as Han. In the five months since Chewie's demise, her and Han had made love perhaps a dozen times; each time Han initiated it. Every time it was because she'd happened to be awake when he came home drunk (and he hadn't passed out in the front hall or on the stairs), or he was simply trying to get away from the grief.

Tentatively, she stepped into their bedroom. Han stood with his back to her, staring sightlessly out the transparisteel, over the Coruscant skyline. That afternoon, they'd received word from Mallatobuck of the memorial service in the honor of Chewbacca's memory in less than three weeks. A strange calm had fallen over Han after reading the message and he'd spent the rest of the afternoon telling Leia stories of when he and Chewie were still smuggling, as he clutched the old cap that proclaimed "It's a both!" that Chewie had loved so much. She was sometimes envious of that wretched cap because of the way he caressed like it was of the finest silk, looked at with a strange love.

Leia walked over to him and placed her hand on his shoulder gently. His head jerked around and looked at her as if he had had no idea that he had a woman who loved him so deeply she'd navigated the Unknown Regions for him, despite all the moronic things he'd done the last several weeks.

"Leia," he breathed and hugged her hard. She closed her eyes, and, breathing in his scent, remembered happier times. Han stroked her hair like he'd always loved to do.

"I know it's hard," she said quietly. Abruptly, he pushed her away and turned away. "No you don't," he muttered.

He was lost to her again. Back into the dark, pain-filled shell he'd already spent countless days in. She was so frustrated. Frustrated with him, with the war, with the Yuuzhan Vong, with herself because she couldn't seem to help her husband. Leia clenched her fists against the emotions that threatened to overtake her; it was a battle that was added to her ever-growing list of losses.

"How can you say that?!" she shouted, "I watched Alderaan be blown up by the Death Star, a command I myself gave indirectly!" She ignored the threat of tears. If she didn't say this now, she might spontaneously combust. "I had no one to turn to. All I had left was the Rebellion. Every moment I spent alone, I relived the explosion. I barely slept for weeks, months because of the memories and nightmares that came." Tears fell unabated down her cheeks. Leia wrapped her arms around her waist, as her legs threatened to crumble. "I had no one to turn to..."

Han caught her as her legs gave way. She sobbed into his shoulder. She didn't only cry for Alderaan but also for Chewie and for her husband's pain. As her tears subsided, she simply held him close.

"I'm sorry," he said stupidly and pressed a kiss to her forehead, to her nose, then, hesitantly, on the lips. Leia sighed and leaned deeper into his arms.

They kissed deeply for an eternity. Time suddenly had no meaning. Separating, they slowly undressed each other, fingers gliding over heated skin that had gone too long without such an intimate touch. Finally, Leia pulled Han back on to the bed. They kissed and made love tenderly.

They lay in the afterglow. Minutes ticked by without regard. Han's head lay over her heart, listening to the even beat. Leia smoothed his tousled hair.

"I love you so much," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

"I love you too." They kissed.

Leia awoke the next morning to find Han gone. He sat in a nerf hide chair in the living room, watching hover cars fly by, the ratty cap in his lap.