Twenty-one years after the Battle of Endor, Coruscant

Luke Skywalker woke up late at night to the feeling of his family close by. He sighed happily. Leia and Hanna were the only family he had, and when they were gone he was so lonely. He heard them open the door to their small apartment, speaking softly. Luke pulled himself out of bed and hurriedly put on his pants. He was excited. They were just a few feet away. Only the darkness of his room and his bedroom door lie between them.

He didn't bother with his shirt. He burst through the door. "Hey," he called to Leia, and then she was in his arms. It was all too often that affairs of state took both her and Hanna away. Leia kissed Luke quickly. "What are you doing up this late?" she asked, furrowing her brow. But she was smiling.

"He was asleep, Mom," Hanna chimed in, smiling crookedly at her uncle, blue eyes twinkling with happiness. "We were trying not to wake you up," she explained.

Luke took her in his arms as well. "I'm so glad you're back," he said into her cropped chestnut hair.

"Why don't you come with us next time?" Leia asked jokingly, pinching Luke in the ribs.

He flinched. He hated it when she tickled him. "Oh, no. You're not pulling me into the evils of politics. You've already corrupted Hanna."

"Come on, Luke," Leia persisted. "We might be taken more seriously if we had a legendary Jedi Knight with us."

"You're not taken seriously?" Luke mock-frowned. "Besides, Hanna's a Jedi, too."

Hanna blushed. "Not yet."

Leia put an arm around each of them. "Close enough. You've only been training for eighteen years."

"Yeah, Hanna," said Luke, "I only got a few weeks here and there over the course of three years."

Hanna yawned. "Fine. Whatever you say. I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Mom. 'Night, Luke."

She gave a small kiss to each of them, then swaggered tiredly off to her bedroom. Luke watched her go fondly. It had been years since he had consciously noted the similarities between his niece and her "three parents." Though Hanna had never met her father, she smiled like him, occasionally talked like him, and walked like him when she wasn't consciously trying to walk in a more dignified manor--usually when she was tired or distracted. She had her mother's curvy, slight frame, her hair, and her temper and intelligence. She had her uncle's remarkable affinity to the Force, his tendency to confusion and embarrassment, and his pale blue eyes. But she had an ease, honesty, and solidity all her own. As Wedge had once put it, she really had it all figured out, especially for one so young.

"She walks like him," Leia spoke into her brother's thoughts as soon as Hanna's door was closed. Leia hadn't used Han's name since she gave birth.

"She has since she learned to walk." Luke put his arm around her shoulders. "Something on your mind?"

Leia shrugged sadly, all the happiness of reunion fading. "I've just...been thinking about him again."

Luke pursed his lips. "You want to talk about it?"

She shrugged again. "I'm not sure what there is to talk about." She paused. "Well...have a glass of wine with me. Talk to me."

Luke frowned. "You drink too much."

She shook her head stubbornly, sitting on their big velvet couch. "I do not."

Luke went to the kitchen, took out a bottle of red wine, and poured a glass for himself, a glass for Leia. He probably wouldn't finish his--he tried to stay away from substances--but he wouldn't let Leia drink alone.

Handing Leia her glass, he sat close beside her. "Tell me what's going on. What made you start thinking about him again?"

She took a sip of the wine, then gestured to Hanna's room. "His daughter. When we were on Malistare she insisted on carrying a blaster instead of her lightsaber because she said being marked as Jedi made her a target."

"It's true."

"I know it's true. Let me finish. So she carried a blaster pistol, strapped to her thigh...and she was wearing black pants and high boots...and she was letting herself walk like him. Then there was trouble in the streets, and she drew her blaster. You should see her with a blaster, Luke. Just like Han. So much like him, it scares me."

"I know," Luke said simply. "She doesn't do it in front of you, but sometimes when it's just the boys, and she's joking with us...I can hear Han saying some of the things she says." He laughed, remembering the old days. "She has his dirty mind."

Leia would have normally scowled at the mention of her only child having a dirty mind, but she was too lost in her on memories. Luke looked into her eyes, asking permission silently. Leia gave it to him. He took both the glasses, put them on the low table, and took Leia's hands. He entered her mind gently, careful of her privacy. Meanwhile, in the physical world, Leia cuddled up to him, letting him look for what he wanted. He needed to understand what she was feeling. They were partners--not in love, but in life. They had chosen to live together and raise Hanna together. Leia had never looked for another man after Han left, and Luke's attempts to find a woman had been unsuccessful. So now, in their early forties, they had only one another. They tried to understand each other, to be one the way Jedi twins were meant to. They had missed that much earlier in life. They needed it now.

Not many people outside of their family knew that Luke and Leia were siblings. They had never announced it publicly, but they would never dream of keeping it a secret, either. Most people who didn't know better assumed that Hanna was Luke's daughter, particularly given her blue eyes. To those people, Luke would say, "Then explain her smile."

As Luke searched Leia's troubled mind, he discovered something he hadn't found there before. Not ever. Was it new? Or had she hidden it from him all of these years?

"You miss him," he stated, coming back to his own mind, "You're lonely." He was surprised. He hadn't expected this. Maybe regret, but not loneliness.

She nodded.

"I never knew. I thought you were happy. I thought you were happy," he braced himself: this was important to him, "with me."

Leia sighed. "I am. You're such a good father to Hanna, and I love sharing my life with you. You're the best friend I've ever had. The best I could ever ask for. But you can't give me everything I need, Luke. We may be Jedi twins--bound mind and spirit--but you aren't my other half. I'm not whole."

Luke nodded. He felt the same way a lot of nights, when the dark of his room seemed endless, the wind outside blew cold, and his bed felt too big to sleep in alone.

"So?" Luke asked at last.

Leia looked confused. "So what?"

"So what are you going to do about it?"

Leia frowned. "Nothing. What can I do? He sealed his fate nineteen years ago when he left me."

"You sent him away."

"I know, but I didn't think he would disappear entirely. I thought he'd--"

"I know. You've told me. But it's Han. What did you expect? When Han does something, he never goes half-way."

"You can say that again," Leia said under her breath, staring in the direction of Hanna's room.

Luke tried to suppress a smile. Han would have loved that remark.

Leia had picked up her wine again during the conversation, and she took a large sip of it.

Luke put an arm around her, kissed her forehead. "Get some sleep, okay? And go easy on the wine."

"I don't need you to baby-sit me."

"Yes you do." He kissed her lips this time, quickly as he could. "Goodnight."

She smiled faintly. "Goodnight."

Luke went back to his room. He hoped he'd be able to sleep. When something was troubling Leia, it always troubled him as well.