Author's note:

Welcome back to Not Ready...the story forever in the making. Another chapter will be along today or tomorrow. Thank you for your patience. Rock on.

Leia's anxiety grew with each passing day. It was not for Luke and Hanna's safety that she feared, because she could sense their apparent happiness. It was the happiness that unnerved her. Never in a million years would she wish to feel pain and stress and anguish emanating from her brother and daughter, but the lack of it at this time was unsettling. They had been violently captured, taken to a far way, desolate–albeit beautiful–planet, where they had awoken in small amounts of anxiousness...which dissipated in a few days. Now Luke would not return her summons. She felt him as clearly as ever, but he brushed her off when she tried to communicate with him with a fairly inconsiderate and un-Luke, I'm fine, okay? It always sounded obstinate. Hanna wasn't much better. Leia had never been able to send thoughts to Hanna as well as she could to Luke, but when she reached a tendril of motherly concern towards her, Hanna brushed it off as a child would who'd rather not be babied.

Leia, sitting at the holo-chess table aboard the Falcon, yawned as she pushed her lunch around on her plate with a fork. Hurray, she thought sardonically, my first symptom. Just under four weeks pregnant, counting from her period as a medd would and not from the night she conceived, put her at about the right time to start feeling tired constantly. It wasn't full force yet–and wouldn't be for a couple of weeks. But the fact that she already knew she was pregnant made her more attuned to the changes in her body, more watchful of them. She smiled slightly, thinking of her bitter rejoicing a moment ago. Maybe she should, in fact, be happy about the signs coming on–it meant everything was going well.

Han came up the Falcon's ramp, wiping his work-dirtied hands on a rag. He gave her a small smile. She returned it. They were both concerned over how long the repairs were taking, and the tension aboard the ship ran high. "Any word from Luke?" he asked, and Leia could see the worry in his eyes.

She shook her head. "No. He keeps blocking me out. It's almost like he's ashamed of something–like there's something I shouldn't know."

He shifted uncomfortably. "Like what?"

She wished she knew. "He's never done this before, Han. He's always there, in part of my mind. And I'm in his. And now...."

"What about when he wants some privacy?"

She shook her head again. "We can maintain privacy without pushing the other away completely. I don't have to feel everything that's going on inside him to feel us as part of each other. It's like...like everything about him has suddenly become a secret. And he and I just don't do that to each other."

He shook his head. "Well...not much we can do, I guess. I'll bet it's just a misunderstanding, anyway. You can ask Luke about it when you see him."

She nodded, not terribly comforted, but thankful to Han for trying.

He passed her on the way to the galley to get his own lunch, but paused to watch her play with her food for a moment. "You gonna eat that eventually?"

She looked up at him, startled. She hadn't realized what she'd been doing. "Oh...yes." She took a bite, hoping it would make him stop bothering her.

No such luck. He crouched down on the floor beside her, looking intently into her eyes. "You okay?"

She nodded. "I'm just worried about Hanna and Luke." She sighed, stretching. "And tired."

"You got enough sleep last night." He rose, as if to make for the galley again.

"I know. That's just the thing. In your first trimester you can get all the sleep you need and you'll still want more." Leia watched sidelong as the look of understanding come into his eyes. She smiled slightly to herself.

"Oh. Right–that." Han shifted again, then returned her smile. "So, uh...." he continued to talk as he entered the galley, "I guess that means he's doing okay?"

He. The baby. "He's fine, Han," Leia called.

"Are you?"

Leia shook her head. Every time he was reminded of her condition he asked her at least three times if she was all right. "Yes, for the last time. I'll tell you if I'm not."

"I'm just making sure," he called defensively. "You don't have to get all huffy."

Leia sighed in exasperation. Even when he was being sweet he was impossible. "I'm not being huffy. You're being ridiculously over-protective."

He reentered the room, sitting opposite Leia with a plate of food. "I think I have a pretty good reason."

She didn't answer, didn't look up at him.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"That thing where you just ignore me. I'm just trying to...to be a good father, okay?" He said the last bit hesitantly, his voice almost trembling uncharacteristically. Leia looked up.

Oh.

That's what this was about.

She didn't answer again because she could find no words. She looked into his tired hazel eyes and found pain and longing, longing for her and the child she carried. He reached for her hand.

She drew it away, looking down.

"Never mind," he murmured after a moment. "It's not important right now anyway."

"Let me help you with the repairs," Leia pleaded, desperate for a change in topic, something to keep her busy, and a quicker rescue of her family. "I feel fine, Han."

"Yeah...." he drummed his fingers on the table, as he sometimes did when stressed. "I guess so. At this point we just need to get going...."

She nodded in agreement. "Something strange is going on. I only wish I knew what it was...."