Summary:

Beginning during Episode III, but becoming an AU when a small twist is added to the story...but don't go calling him small to his face!

Nine-year-old Han Solo is under the enslavement of a con-artist thief, who uses him and other children to steal and pick-pockets. But when they arrive on the centre planet of the Republic, Coruscant, Han uses the opportunity to run away.

Suddenly finding himself being pursued by the Coruscanti police, Han escapes into the apartment buildings of the Senators and while climbing out of a window falls onto the balcony of Senator Padmé Amidala. Padmé becomes attached to the orphan boy, who so desperately needs a loving family and home.

But will the new responsibility of Han, in conjunction upcoming birth of his child, help Anakin to see the path to save someone is not always the quick and easy way, but the path that we know is difficult, but ultimately right.

Originally posted on the Jedi Council Forums back in 2007. I first posted a revived edition of ASD back in 2010 on this site, and last year I updated it yet again for AO3. Now, upon it's 10th Anniversary, I'm delighted to bring this thoroughly revised and more cohesive version of my most popular fanfiction story on this site before I took it down. After chapter thirteen there's going to be a series of chapters I originally had planned but decided not to include with the original posting, so before the original chapter fourteen there will be a whole new side story.

I hope you enjoy this updated version of ASD, and I hope it will inspire you to try your own hand at writing something out of the ordinary.

(A/N: This story contains references to the original (now "Legend") EU back-story for Han Solo, (i.e The Han Solo Trilogy by A.C Crispin etc.) The upcoming SOLO movie, and whatever else is planned for the character's childhood doesn't factor in, notably as this story was originally penned a decade ago.)

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, the characters associated with it, or anything to do with it at all.

A Slight Disruption

Chapter 1

Han Solo was not much to look at.

Even the proud little boy, (who would snap that it was otherwise,) secretly knew it.

He was just another scruffy, dirty street kid in patched up, oversized clothing and worn down to the sole shoes.

And this was just perfect as far as Han was currently concerned, because if he had been a clean –and memorable looking– kid, he would not be able to blend into the night-time crowd on Coruscant and make his escape from Garris Shrike.

Han shuddered, despite himself, at the thought of the former bounty hunter turned crime lord, that had all but kidnapped him four years ago off the dirty, rough streets of the poor area of Northern Corellia, and integrated Han into his syndicate of child thieves.

Solo sniffled and wiped his nose on his oversized, threadbare sleeve, gazing out around the throng of people he was so desperately trying to disappear into, sneaking past both strangely dressed humanoids and alien species, the adults jabbering away as they stood lined up in one of the upper-level queues for the hottest nightclubs.

Han looked up at one of the glowing Aurbesh signs as he past by the entertainment district buildings, and read the time at being 0300 hours. Meaning that he had escaped from his fellow pick-pockets at least five hours previously, and the little snitches would have wailed on him long ago.

The boy's stomach gurgled in response to the smell of food that wafted from all around him from the food carts, and all Solo could do was rub his middle ruefully and sigh.

The one thing Dewlanna – Shrike's ship, The Trader's Luck's, Wookiee cook– was always scolding Han about was that often instead of asking for food –even from her– the nine-year-old felt the need to sneak into his pockets anything edible. This time he'd forgotten to do either.

Han looked around for a side alley of some sort to hide in to try and rest until it was dawn. Finally noticing a small alley only a few metres down past where he was standing, Han pulled his oversized shirt tighter around himself to make himself inconspicuous, as he realised some obvious two human police personnel had noticed him, and were now headed his way.

Attempting to take slow steps as not to attract unneeded attention, the slight boy darted through the crowd towards the alley.

However, that single, wide-eyed stare Han had briefly directed towards the police officers had only encouraged them to move faster to apprehend the boy.

One small, ragged street-kid, out on the upper levels of Coruscant at early morning, glancing around suspiciously, was either up to mischief or in danger.

The slightly shorter officer yelled out just to see if the unkempt child would react.

"Hey!"

Little Solo made the mistake of turning to look at the two humanoid men rushing up to him and silently cursed himself, "Oh no," Han breathed, rushing back into the crowd as fast as his small legs could carry him, dodging through the humanoids and aliens like a wraith.

As the police gave chase, Han skidded through the streets, pulling to halt when he suddenly found himself standing in the middle of the busy central plaza, (lit up like a Wookiee tree-top village on Life Day.) with sloping, bronze and silver coloured sculptures, surrounded by high-rise buildings.

Gazing about the huge residential buildings that surrounded the plaza, Han remembered the brief low-down Shrike had given them on the districts of Coruscant…Republic Senators lived here.

Solo scratched his shaggy, brown haired head, remembering the kindly Corellian Senator, Garm Bel Ilibis, whom he had met once two years ago when he'd been in a school, masquerading as a student in one of Shrike's more elaborate schemes. Senator Ilibis had told Han he was impressed with the questions he had asked, and said he was a bright young man, who had a great future ahead of him.

Han nodded firmly with the resolve only a nine-year-old could muster, Yes. If anyone could help him the senator of Corellia could. Senator Ilibis had been a nice person, and Solo had met so few nice people in his short life, that just the memory of one compliment and kindly word was taken very much to heart.

The boy scampered towards the senatorial apartment building on his right, looking up at the glowing sign that gave directions to the various planetary quarters, he smirked lob-sidedly. It was his lucky day, as Corellia was on this list.

The boy looked around and strolled casually over to the turbolift. The security system was controlled by a panel to the left side, and the boy had learnt to hot-wire systems like this before most other kids had lost their top and bottom front teeth.

Pursing his tongue between his aforementioned front teeth in concentration, Han pulled a small knife from his back pocket, and a stick of Kashyyyk honey-chew Dewlanna had made for him last night. Han broke off a couple of pieces of the honey-chew, and shoved the remains into his back pocket.

Han put the five broken pieces of honey-chew into his mouth and chewed vigorously one at a time and spat them back into his hand. Grabbing three of the softened pieces, Solo placed them where he knew the sensors would be placed randomly throughout the outside of the panel, and then jimmied it open.

Flipping the board down and shoving the remaining gum into his mouth, Han used the knife to deftly slice some wires, and pulled a piece of gum out of his mouth each time to block the sensitive sensors beneath them. The boy finally smirking in sticky triumph as the panel beeped as it became unlocked after a few moments.

Calmly pressing a few buttons, the door to the turbo lift glided open and the boy strolled into the lift. Looking aside at the buttons lit up on the panel to the left, Han pressed the number that the sign had given him, and waited impatiently as the door slid shut again.

Even if Senator Ilibis only placed him in an orphanage on Coruscant or in a foster home, it was better than the stang-hole he'd been living in. Han just wished he'd said a real good-bye to Dewlanna.

He had said good-bye as in that he'd return with the others, not good-bye good-bye.

Oh well, the old Wookiee had wanted him to find a way of escaping anyway, she would understand. Han blew a bubble with the honey-chew and snapped it back into his mouth.

The lift was fairly swift and Solo found himself on the fifth level, after only another two honey-chew bubbles. Han stuck his head in experimentally, turning to look from right to left in the darkened room.

"Hello? Senator Ilibis?" The dark silence was broken by Han's voice that echoed across the entrance room and no response came. He walked fully into the apartment, just as the door slid shut on the turbolift. Han took little notice of the door slamming shut and continued his calling.

After circling all the rooms and finding no-one, the boy suddenly remembered why the Corellian quarters were vacant, while standing in the hall that led to the sleeping quarters.

"Oh no," Han groaned, "the separation act…I forgot!" Solo went from plain panic to pure terror, "Oh stang! The turbo lift!" He rushed back to the entrance hall and pounded on the turbo lift door. "Oh no, oh no!" Solo stopped suddenly, remembering the sensors. Any fiddling with the door panel and he was doomed. At any rate, he was a goner if they found him here in the morning.

Unless, he could find another way out of the place...Han's wondering eyes instantly fell on the windowed balcony. Practically suicidal. But –like a lot of nine-year-olds– Han resolved to worry about that after he already was all ready climbing over the balustrade.

-:-:-:-

Below the Corellian quarters was the official apartments of the Naboo representatives. The Senator for Naboo had one of the largest quarters and balcony that looked out over the skyline of Coruscant.

The current Naboo senator, Padmé Amidala Naberrie, had helped furnish the apartments herself. But never had she noticed how many sharp and fragile to the touch objects she had furnished the elaborate apartment with, until she started thinking of the baby she now carried within her crawling, and then running, along the carpeted floors in a few months.

My baby…our baby...Anakin…

Their marriage had had to be hidden. A secret only known between Padmé and Anakin themselves, the wise-man on Naboo, and their droids, C-3PO and R2-D2. Padmé hadn't even been able to tell her family. (Although, she often had the passing thought that her older sister, Sola, suspected Anakin was much more than just her younger sister's close friend.)

But now, with a living, breathing creation of their love growing inside Padmé's womb, the world had suddenly become far more dangerous for their forbidden union.

Padmé had met Anakin Skywalker long before he had been a Jedi. Given that the then young Queen of Naboo had been only fourteen, and her now husband had been all of almost ten years old.

But that tow haired boy had still looked her straight in the eye, and announced firmly that he was going to marry her some day.

How the young queen –disguised as one of her handmaidens– had tried so hard not to laugh at the snub nosed little boy's proclaimation, replying that he was just a little boy.

With all the conviction of the future Jedi Knight he would one day be, Anakin had just stared at Padmé carefully, and responded stubbornly that he wouldn't always be.

And Anakin, as he tended to be most of the time, (when he wasn't being hot-headed,) was right. He did grow up and marry Padmé, even after being forbidden to do so by his obligation to the Jedi Order.

Still, Anakin had never faltered once in his commitment to the Jedi Order and their participation in the Clone Wars. He was a General in the Republic army, and had been fighting on the front-lines for the past nearly two years.

The slight young man Padmé had married had hardened into a muscular warrior, now a Jedi Knight and no longer a Padawan under the tutelage of the still ever watchful, Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.

This now meant Anakin could spend his leave time almost entirely with his secret wife, which made their brief reunions even that more pleasurable and blessed.

Padmé was awoken from her blissful dreams of their reunion earlier that day, (following the rescue of Chancellor Palpatine,) when the weight of Anakin lying beside her in the bed had shifted with him waking up abruptly and getting out of their bed. Padmé half-turned to look after her husband, his dark, cloaked silhouette making stark contrast against the dimly lit apartment.

As if feeling their father's restlessness, the child in Padmé womb began to shift as well. The pregnant woman made soft shushing noises, and rubbed her stomach through the blue satin material, slowly rolling over to get out of the bed to follow Anakin.

The baby must have some of his daddy's connection with the Force, Senator Amidala allowed a small smile across her delicate features, replacing the concerned grimace over her husband.

Anakin was completely convinced their child was going be a girl. But Padmé begged to differ, no offence to the powers of the Force, but Anakin wasn't bearing this child.

He had been away from their baby since it began to grow practically, Padmé was certain it was a boy. She had different symptoms from what she could remember Sola having with Ryoo and Pooja, and also old wives tales of carrying a boy lower then a girl.

Amidala was happy for their baby to be a surprise though. Boy or girl, this baby was going to change their lives completely. Padmé's delicate, bare feet padded softly across the carpet as she walked across the darkened living room area.

The Naboo senator stopped briefly to look over at where Anakin sat alone in the dim light. He cut such a solemn, distressed figure against the sparkling lights from the busy traffic and tall skyscrapers, visible outside the windowed walls.

Padmé sighed softly and continued to walk towards her husband slowly. Anakin didn't look up in her direction as she came to his side, not even moving a muscle when she ran her fingers through his fair tresses.

"What's bothering you?" Padmé whispered.

Hollow blue eyes finally looked up at her, and the Jedi Knight gave his wife a shaky smile that didn't match the look in his eyes.

Anakin reached out to graze his hand against his wife's rounded belly, and then took the japor snippet –that she wore as a pendant on a long chain– in his lightsaber calloused finger tips. "Nothing," he replied without more than a moment's hesitation.

Padmé eyed Anakin suspiciously as he glanced up from his gaze on the pendant with another uncertain smile.

"I remember when I gave this to you."

Senator Amidala sighed with tired patience. She too remembered all too well when a nine-year-old Anakin gave her the Japor fragment carved with a symbol of good-luck. That boy had been as honest as a starshine in the night sky. Now the man he had grown into was lying right to her face.

"How long is it going to take for us to be honest with each other?" Padmé invoked simply.

Anakin dropped the pendant and his face darkened again as he looked away. Anakin had been wearing that look all too often since he'd been in the Clone Wars.

The response came just as plainly as Padmé's question "It was a dream."

Padmé winced, remembering the visions he had about his Mother, "Bad?" She pinched herself inwardly.

Of course it had been bad. Why would Anakin look so moody and awoken in the middle of the night if it had been a pleasant dream?

Anakin's frown deepened into his tanned, broadly handsome face, "Like the ones I used to have about my Mother, just before she died," he ascertained, still staring straight ahead in troubled memories.

Senator Amidala reached out to stroke his arm comfortingly, she had been right, "And?"

Anakin let out an unsteady breath as he turned to look into her dulcet brown eyes, "And it was about you," his gaze darkened even more and Padmé's husband turned his head away again.

"Tell me." Padmé begged in a soft whisper as she gazed at him in concern. About me?

Anakin got to his feet, "It was only a dream," he said quietly and firmly, walking away from Padmé gradually. The Jedi's shoulders dipped when he sighed defeatedly, gazing out the tall window. The moment's anxious silence was unexpectedly broken, as Anakin slowly turned his upper-torso to gaze painfully back at his petite wife.

"You die in childbirth."

Padmé's arms quickly enveloped her rounding stomach, "And the baby?" She demanded fearfully. Amidala had never been afraid to die, but to die and leave Anakin she feared.

To die and lose the baby within her she feared even more.

Anakin's steady voice broke, "I don't know," he admitted stonily, looking away from her again.

Padmé opened her mouth to say a word of comfort, 'It was only a dream,' or something to quell the visible anger and worry on Anakin's face, and the nervousness she was feeling, when there came –from the direction of her beautifully kept balcony– a loud yelp.

Quickly accompanied by the crashing and banging sounds of smashed pottery.

"What in the name of the Force was that?!" Anakin exclaimed, rushing towards the balcony, Padmé not far behind her barefoot husband, the nightmares temporarily forgotten for the moment.

Upon approaching the windowed balcony, the couple saw the dust start to clear and a small, very dirty figure was sprawled in the middle of the floor. The figure sat up and started coughing, and Anakin immediately analysed its Force signature as that of a young boy. Aged between eight and ten years old. The boy's feelings registered between mild pain and relief.

Anakin narrowed his eyes slightly. "My dear, I think our guest is a street louse," he informed his wife, who was already pushing open the doors to kneel beside the small boy, rubbing his back as he hacked. Skywalker folded his arms and lent against the door frame with a mildly disapproving look.

She shouldn't be worrying herself so much in her condition...

"Are you all right?" Padmé inquired gently as she rested her hand on the dusty boy's shoulder.

The boy nodded his shaggy brown haired head and peered up at her cautiously, the Senator's heart almost broke into a thousand pieces at the immediate mistrust and nervousness in those hazel eyes.

"Yeah…" the boy said softly, then straightened and jumped to his feet, brushing off his pants with a quick swipe. "…yeah, I'm all right. Thanks." He said a little louder and staring back at the beautiful woman more astutely, a grin on his face.

"Wow! I know you! You're Senator Amidala! Everyone always says you're the prettiest lady on the Galactic Senate!"

Padmé smiled in wonder at the lob-sided grin on the grubby boy's face, "Is that so," she humoured the small boy, who nodded firmly, brushing back his long bangs off his forehead.

"Ah huh...I didn't know you were so..." the child looked down at her stomach with wide eyes, "big."

Amidala looked down as well and noticed her pregnant stomach was very visible through her sleek satin nightgown, Uh oh. "Oh," she said softly.

Anakin walked over and helped Padmé to her feet, keeping an arm around her waist, he looked over at the boy. "He appears to be all right. Nothing broken?"

The boy looked over his limbs and shook his head slowly in response.

"Bleeding anywhere?"

Again the boy looked over his skinny frame, and shook his head.

"Okay then. So, I suggest we call the guards and—"

Padmé glared up at her husband and thumped his arm disapprovingly. Anakin looked down into her angry brown eyes with a raised brow as Padmé pulled him a few feet away from the dusty boy.

"Anakin, " Padmé warned sharply. "I know you're worried about me and the baby, but the boy's done nothing wrong."

Anakin looked back over at the boy, who gave him a sullen look of suspicious disapproval in response, the Jedi rubbed his forehead, "I know, Padmé, but what if he's working for someone—?"

"Well then I'm going to find that out for myself. Either way, how dare they send a child out this late at night." Padmé pulled away and walked back to the boy, as Anakin folded his arms into his cloak with a sigh.

The boy smiled up at the woman as Padmé stood over him, he was skinny and quite obviously a very active child.

"You know my name, young man, but I don't know yours," Padmé ascertained brightly.

The boy looked uncomfortable. "No, you don't. Who's the stuff-shirt?" He pointed at Anakin in an attempt to change the subject. The pregnant woman smiled indulgently at the boy, as Skywalker snorted derogatively from behind them.

"That would be my former protector and very good friend, Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker," Padmé informed the young boy, who gave the tall Jedi a very distrustful glare in response.

"Jedi? Are they like the Feds?" The boy whispered to the woman warily.

Padmé glanced over at Anakin with a supportive smile, "No, not really. You've never heard of the Jedi?" She felt almost relief at the thought. If the boy knew nothing of the Jedi and that they shouldn't be married, perhaps they would be safe.

The urchin shook his head and Senator Amidala sighed.

"Oh, they're kind of like guardians. They protect people that are in trouble or danger."

"Huh," the dusty child brushed off his pants again. "Are you in trouble or danger right now?" He inquired. Padmé looked mildly taken back and the boy wiped his nose with his sleeve, "I mean, err, being pregnant and all...you are pregnant, right?" He added hurriedly.

Padmé's heart almost melted again at his concern, and she nodded, "Yes I am. But I'm not in trouble," she sighed. "Not yet," Amidala added under her breath. "Now, will you tell me your name? I promise I won't let anyone hurt you." She assured him.

The boy snorted, "Yeah, like that's a new one," he sighed and looked down at the ground. "All right. My name is Han," he said reluctantly.

Anakin stepped forward and looked down at the boy, "How old are you, Han?"

The boy stared up at the tall, fair haired man with narrowed eyes.

"I'm nine, almost ten," Han informed him cautiously.

Looking the dusty child up and down, Anakin raised a wry eyebrow. "You're a little short for nine."

The boy looked offended, "Yeah, well you're a little too tall for any age," he shot back. "And you have a nasty scar over your eye," Han huffed. Padmé chuckled at the none too impressed look on Anakin's face.

"Oh, well, you're short and dirty, I'd rather be tall and scarred any day," Anakin retorted with chagrin.

Padmé patted Anakin's arm as Han poked his tongue out at the Jedi.

"Honestly, Ani. Han, would you like to go into the 'fresher and clean up?" She motioned to the R2 unit who came trundling up from his position watching the drama from the door-frame. "Artoo will show you the way."

Han nodded, "Okay. You sure you don't want to come with me? I don't know if the big guy thinks I'm going to steal the soap," he ignored the dirty look Anakin shot him. Padmé shook her head. "Okay then," the boy went to follow the blue-domed droid –who beeped at him friendlily as he approached– then turned around mid-way.

"Sorry about the stuff I broke," Han added as an afterthought, before he followed Artoo into the apartment.

Anakin pointed after Han, "How did he even get on the balcony way up here?"

Padmé sighed, "Ani, The poor boy is obviously frightened half to death, let him clean up a little," she put her arms around Anakin's tapered waist as he sighed and looked away.

"I'll get the droids to see to the mess out here. We'll set Han down, give him a drink, and ask all the questions we need to get to the bottom of all this."

Anakin shrugged and looked down at his petite wife, "All right, but he's not an abandoned pitten, and you're in a delicate way at the moment," he gave in reluctantly.

The woman laughed, "Delicate way? Really?" Padmé laughed and even made her husband chuckle at his own words. "I'm pregnant, Ani, not ill," she pursed her lips, Anakin did not look happy with the choice of words, and neither was she.

"Besides," Padmé added hurriedly, "I want to do something nice for him. Han reminds me of another scruffy little boy I met long ago," she stood on tiptoe and kissed the tanned Jedi Knight's lips.

Anakin rolled his eyes as he took Padmé hands. "I was a lot taller at nine." He linked her arm through his, and led Padmé back into the apartment, ignoring her short snort of laughter at his indignant expression.

-:-:-:-

The small boy gawked around the lounge of the apartment, as he walked out of the nicest 'fresher he'd ever been in his life.

The R2 unit had watched Han carefully, beeping at the boy sternly when he just washed his face with water and pointed a mechanical grasping pincer at the soap on the shelf above the sink.

Han scratched the back of his neck worriedly as he approached the young man and woman, who were watching him from the sofa in the middle of the curved room.

Senator Amidala looked over at with a small, genuine smile as Han approached, and that big grouch Skywalker with a less inviting stare, as the boy slowly walked over and stood a few feet in front of them.

"You sure have a real nice place, Senator Amidala," Han said politely, folding his arms over his torn shirt, looking curiously over at the shiny golden plated protocol droid balancing a tray, standing behind the seated adults.

Senator Amidala's smile widened as she rested her arms on her stomach, "Why, thank you, Han. And I must say, you are far more nice looking when you don't have dust all over your face. Please sit down," she motioned to the circular couch opposite the one her and Anakin were sitting on.

Han obligingly walked over and flopped down on the couch. The gold droid he'd observed earlier, shuffled over with the laden tray and offered the boy the warm mug of blue-milk resting on it, along with a plate of sweet-snap cookies. The boy cautiously took the mug and three of the cookies.

"Cheers, goldenrod," Han thanked the protocol droid.

"Goldenrod!" It squawked at Han, who smirked in response at the appalled tone in the droid's voice. He'd never liked these blabbermouth things. Astromech droids were fine, but who needed a machine to talk?

"Well I never. My name is C-3PO, young sir, it is certainly not–"

"That will be all, Threepio," Amidala intervened with a smile around her own mug of warm blue-milk, as Skywalker nursed a mug of caff with a raised eyebrow in the pregnant woman's direction.

Han jammed a cookie in his mouth and narrowed his eyes at the familiarity between the couple. "You two sure are awful close," he commented offhand.

Padmé took a sip of her drink and smiled affectingly, patting the hand of the Jedi beside her.

"I've known Anakin since he was your age, Han. We've been very good friends for many years," Padmé eyes sparkled when they connected with the young man, and Han rolled his own eyes.

He might only be nine, but Han knew what a look like that meant.

"Anakin was living on Tatooine with his mother when we first met. Do you have parents, Han?"

The little boy raised his eyebrow in an expression far to old for his features, "Mine died a long time ago," Han muttered. Reaching out for another cookie, the boy suddenly looked up in surprise as he felt a large hand rest upon his own.

Anakin Skywalker gazed down poignantly at Han.

"My mother died a few years ago. I never knew my father. My mother always said 'Sadness has a season and it will pass,' What she never said was that seasons leave their mark in the soil for generations, regardless of floods or drought." Anakin smiled for the first time at the small boy, and Han was slightly taken back.

Not really knowing what the sudden kindly words from the tall man meant.

"Yeah, I guess…I never knew my folks, though. They died before I could ever really remember them. I guess I was kinda kidnapped off the streets of Corellia by a guy named Garris Shrike. He trained me to steal, lie and pickpockets," Han admitted abruptly.

Anakin's eyes widened slightly, and Padmé looked saddened.

Han became instantly animated before they could say anything, "I...I didn't want to, and I wasn't stealing nothin' when I landed on your balcony, I swear. I was only looking for Senator Ilibis. I met him a while ago when Shrike used me in some sort of scam, or somethin', and he said that I was really smart." He fiddled with the sugary treat in his hands, leaving sticky marks along his fingers.

Padmé watched the hazel eyes become misty and she felt the child in her stomach shift, as if sensing it's mother's unhappiness. Amidala rubbed her stomach gently and tried to keep her emotions in check.

"When we landed on Coruscant," Han sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve again. "I escaped from the others, and then some policemen started chasin' me, and I ended up at the bottom of your apartment block. I saw Senator Ilibis name on the sign and I broke into the turbolift.

"I just wanted to talk to him, to tell him everything. I thought he might help me." Tears started flowing down Han's cheeks and he rubbed at them furiously with his hands, still sticky from the melting cookie.

Anakin reached out tentatively with the Force to check if the boy was putting on Dewback tears, but Han's emotions were very honest and real. Skywalker bit the inside of his cheek as Han continued to pour out everything that had happened to him.

"An' then I was going to try the turbolift again, but I saw the balcony and I really wasn't gonna try somethin' stupid like climbing down it…but then I decided at the last minute to climb down it any ways. I slipped because I got really sleepy, and then I crashed onto your balcony."

Han hiccuped, and tried to hold back the tears.

"Please, please don't make me go back to him. You gotta believe me!"

Padmé looked over to Anakin, her hands grasping and twisting the fabric of her nightgown as tears flooded her own eyes.

Skywalker looked kindly and firmly at Han, "I believe you," he nodded at his wife, brushing back a curl from her eyes. "We believe you."

Padmé almost smiled in relief, and rushed over to Han's side, taking a wet-flimsy towel from the side table and drying Han's sticky face with it. Before pulling the boy into a warm hug, resting her chin on his head, and rubbing Han's back comfortingly.

"It's okay, it's going to be all right. We won't let anyone harm you, not as long as there's breath in my lungs."

Anakin sighed, rubbing his temples tiredly, "Well, I suppose that's an end to my quiet, relaxing leave," he commented offhandedly.

Han turned his head to look at the imposing Jedi. "You mean, I can stay here with you two?" His choked up voice almost squeaking on the last syllable. Padmé threw Anakin a delighted smile and Skywalker smiled in return.

"You mean staying with Senator Amidala, this is her apartment. I live at the Jedi Temple while I'm on leave," he pointed out.

The boy raised an eyebrow and rubbed his swollen eyes. "Right, so that's why you're half-clothed and here at 0400 hours," Han pointed out with a small grin, pulling back from Padmé.

"I might only be nine, but I know where babies come from Anakin, and I don't think this kid has a thing to worry about. Senator Amidala's really pretty, and your real nice when you're not being grouchy," the boy remarked.

Anakin rubbed his forehead, "It's not that simple, Han. You see, Jedi aren't allowed to marry or have children. And I've done both in secret," he said softly. Anakin walked over and squatted down beside Han, his steel blue eyes firm.

"You can't tell anyone. Especially if we find a foster family for you."

Han frowned, looking between Padmé and Anakin, "But I thought I could stay here with you guys for good. I'm not that much trouble, really! I've done some sneaky things, but I've never hurt anyone, honest!" He pleaded.

Padmé was taken back. "You really think we'll be good parents?" She inquired. Anakin raised his eyebrows in respite, as Han nodded his head rigorously.

"Ah huh, you're both really nice. I'd want you as my parents if I had a choice. My full name is Han Solo, and I really, really want to stay here with you two," Han said firmly, with a full blown smile on his face.

Padmé laughed and embraced Han tightly. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to have someone around while Anakin's away, and then to help out when the baby comes. He could use a big brother to look out for him," Padmé said kindly, brushing back the boy's hair.

Anakin rubbed his chin and turned away thoughtfully, Han looking over at him anxiously.

"I don't want to hear anything about our daughter hot-wiring turbolift systems," Skywalker finally responded, turning back and giving Padmé a nod, his wife beaming in response.

Han eyes lit up, "Is that a yes?" He demanded, "that was a yes!" The little boy jumped across the couch and hugged Anakin unexpectedly. "Thank you, thank you! I promise I'll be the best son, and the best big brother in the galaxy!"

Padmé smiled delightedly, amazed at how fast the charming little boy had come into her life, "I have no doubt of that, but I think we better get you into a bed. We have a big day ahead of us. You think that this Garris Shrike is off planet?" She asked Anakin, who tried to pry Han's arms off from around his neck.

Han got the hint and dropped his arms, "Whenever one of us would run off, especially on a busy planet, Captain Shrike used to pack up everything into the Trader's Luck and leave before we could blab to the feds. Sometimes," he remembered running off to meet his insane Sal-Solo cousin and Aunt.

"If he found you again, he'd thrash you pretty bad."

Anakin put his hand on the boy's shoulder, "We're not going to let that happen to you ever again, Han. If we ever track down or run into that Shrike, we'll be the ones doing the thrashing," he assured him firmly.

Padmé cleared her throat poignantly and Skywalker smiled deviously at her.

"I mean, we'll let the authorities take care of him," Anakin amended, winking at Han, who struck a fighting pose and nodded.

Padmé shook her head, getting to her feet and holding out her hand to the small boy, "Come on, tough guy, we have a lot to do later today," she reasoned. Han tentatively took Padmé hand and she smiled down at him.

"And you don't have to call me Senator Amidala. It's a silly title only for politicians."

Han nodded, "Okay, Padmé," he tried out, looking down at his feet before staring back up at the curly haired woman, as Anakin watched on with a small smile.

"Do you suppose, after it's all worked out, that I could call you Mom?"

Padmé's heart swelled in a feeling similar to when she found out she was pregnant, "I would like nothing better in this entire universe. In fact," she knelt down to face Han, glancing up into his eyes with a shaky smile. "Could you do one thing for me?"

The boy sniffed and wiped his nose, "Anything in the whole galaxy!" He replied with so much gusto, that Anakin lowered his head to hide the wide grin on his face, as he got to his feet and folded his arms into his cloak.

Amidala looked down at her belly, placing her other hand over the growing child within, "That you start calling me Mom, right from this moment?" She looked back up at Han, who nodded vigorously and threw his arms around her.

"Absolutely yes!" Han agreed, looking cheekily over at Anakin. "Does that me I can call you Dad?"

The tall, fair haired Jedi Knight laughed, "A much as I would like you to –it would get me in practice for the little one– it's all right for Padmé to say she's fostering a child, but not for someone who's suppose to be only her friend," he pointed out.

Han scratched his head. "What if I just call you 'Dad' when nobody else is around?"

Anakin sighed, not wanting to disappoint this boy. "In theory it's a good idea, but what if you slip up around anyone else and call me 'Dad'? It's probably a good idea to stick to Anakin," Skywalker said firmly. "When the baby comes, then things might change," he placed a hand on Han's head.

"But I promise I'll still be your father, regardless."

Han embraced Anakin and pulled back, "That's all right. This is so great!" He grabbed Padmé's hand again, "Can I see my room now, Mom?" He didn't wait for a reply and started marching away, "Which way is it?"

Padmé let the boy pull her along, "Han, slow down a little, sweetie, we need to be going this way," she pointed across down the hall.

Anakin watched them both with a troubled smile, wondering quietly to himself what this new development would bring into their already turbulent lives.

-:-:-:-

Shrike spat irritably off the platform, as he marched up the boarding ramp into the slaver-ship. The enslaved children aboard darting off in all directions as to not incur the wrath steadily growing on the scarred man's face.

"That blasted Han Solo! Nothing but trouble." Garris hissed under his breath. If he ever caught up with that little snot-nosed brat again, this time he was dead.

No forgiveness and pardons, dead.

A soft, furry face peered out hesitantly from the small door that led to the kitchens. Dewlanna's greying furred features became furrowed, then the Wookiee wuffed a quiet pray-chant in her native tongue for her beloved little Han, as she shuffled back into her kitchen.

Please be safe, little one.

Thank you for reading. The sequel, Revolution of Fate, will begin to be also be re-posted soon after this story is done being re-posted.