Notes: I wanted a fic where Leia having a baby was the most dramatic, central thing in it, Han's there for the whole thing, Luke's helpful, and even the Force Ghosts realize that the young trio has a good thing going.

Detailed descriptions of childbirth, and sex (because they weren't going to be able to have sex for awhile).

Many thanks to shinewithalltheuntold for being my Star Wars fic buddy (and the angsty half of my brain).

Han forgets that for a human, he's tall, because most of the time, he's with Chewie and having a Wookiee tower over his head makes him short. Away from Chewie, walking down one of the fancy corridors of the New Republic's temporary headquarters on Hosnian Prime, he's tall, and fast, and people get out of his way. Anyone who wants to talk to him has to catch up first.

He prefers that, even cultivates it by walking faster, because it lets him get somewhere without being bothered by political aides, who will insist on handing him things for Leia to read over, and military personnel, who will also pass him things to give her, because both of them have enough sense not stop the very pregnant former Senator-Princess-General Organa and give her more things to do in between the meetings that take up most of her day. It's not enough that she's still working weeks past when she would have made one of her staffers go on leave, or that the kid could arrive tomorrow, and she'd probably still make the evening meeting, because newborns sleep most of the time.

It's easier to hand things to Han, who's not pregnant, not nearly as intimidating, and can be thrust data readers without guilt on behalf of the person trying to get Leia's attention. He's only overworked because he's been trying to help her. His own duties mysteriously dried up about three weeks ago when it looked like the kid was hell bent on arriving in the middle of a logistics briefing. He didn't ask Admiral Ackbar why his skills plotting the fastest, safest (from the remnants of the Empire as long as you were a good pilot, screw up and yeah, you'd be off the edge of the galactic charts, but not shot to bits, so safest) trade routes are suddenly not needed after Leia had a handful of contractions in the map room and they almost went to medical. They didn't, in the end, they weren't strong enough, though her eyes were damp and the way her fingers wrapped around his wrist insisted that 'not strong enough' meant 'still hurt like a rancor bite'. That wasn't labor, not the real kind.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, it's not the military who catches him in the corridors now. They've quietly learned to solve some of their problems without either General Organa (he almost enjoys when anyone uses the Alderaan tradition of giving him Leia's name because it lets him read and sign off on reports that Leia doesn't need to read.) His suggestions are much more fun than hers.

He's caught more by the politicians' aides who need something to keep their planet from being unimportant in the new order, or just have to get this through to make sure so-and-so is the next Senator from Darguilli. Wonder what he'd have to do to make sure they let up? Maybe he can arrange for Threepio to let it slip that Han's filing system for unimportant requests is a quickly growing stack in the corner of their quarters that he likes to rest his feet on. He's just about got it at the right height. Maybe the feet behind him will have enough data readers for him to finish it off and start another.

These feet belong to Luke, Han realises as he catches up. Luke won't have a data reader, nor will he be chased off by Han's charm.

"He wants to talk to her."

Han sighs, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling. "Hello Luke, how are you?"

"I'm well, thank you." Luke falls into step beside him, and though he must have to nearly jog to keep up, he's a Jedi, so he does it smoothly. The kid's like that. "Our father-"

"Is the last person, dead or otherwise, that Leia wants to talk to. You know that." He pats Luke's shoulder, because it has to be hard to be the mediator between his apparently redeemed dead father and his sister, who's just relieved that that father is dead.

"He's worried-"

"We're all worried," Han interrupts him as they make the corner to the stairs. The lifts are always crowded, but the stairs are blissful places of quiet. "Can't he just settle down like a good grandpa and wait? Maybe when the kid's a little older, like twenty, Leia will want to talk to him."

Luke smiles, and it's almost that smirk he used to have, before the Force made his mouth so heavy and his eyes so deep. "He can hear you."

"Great. Darth- Mr. Skywalker, look, Leia has eight meetings today if I can get her to cut the last two and go to bed. When she's in bed, she doesn't really sleep because your grandkid likes to wake up after the sun goes down, and he's got a good kick, and her back hurts and if she's on her side, that hurts and so does the other one, and it's too warm, and by the time we've worked all of that out, she has to pee and I would go back to the carbonite casing you put me in if I could get up for her, but I can't. So we go through the whole process of settling down and finding the one comfortable position that's left, and she might sleep an hour before a communications operator accidentally lets a message through. Then we're right back at the beginning, and the sun comes up and there are more meetings the next day. I think she was less busy when we were still fighting the Empire because at least when Stormtroopers came for her, we could shoot them. I'm not allowed to shoot Senator's aides."

Nodding through Han's tirade, Luke touches his arm. "You can't shoot them lethally. I think if they're at your door before breakfast, you could stun them and no one would say anything."

"I'll remember you said that." He heads up the stairs, then stops, turning to Luke. "She's trying."

"I know."

"And she's never seen this him, the person you say he really is, I mean, she hasn't talked to him like you have, and yeah, i guess if she talked to him she would see him, but she's not ready." He's not sure if he conveys the fear and loathing he sees in Leia's eyes when they talk about her father, but Luke has to feel it. He knows his sister. "This is hard enough without him too. She misses her parents, and the doctor who took care of her when she was a kid who should be delivering her baby. You know how hard it was to find a doctor she liked? How many medical centers we looked at just on this planet before we decided that whatever we go, whatever we do, it's not going to feel right because she thought if she ever had a baby, it would be home on Alderaan."

Han rubs his hand through his hair. Shouldn't be so hard on Luke. Han hasn't been sleeping either, and he's already annoyed at everyone who's not Leia for making Leia's life difficult. "I can't give her that."

"She doesn't expect you to," Luke promises, and his smile softens into the quiet, thoughtful expression he seems to live in now. He looks too much like Obi-Wan, and his eyes are too old for his face, because he is still a kid. "You're good for her, and Leia knows that. She loves you, and doesn't say that enough."

Han leads them down the progressively nicer hallway towards the living quarters, walking through shafts of sunlight on the marble floor. "She says it."

"Not enough." Luke pats his shoulder again, pausing and studying Han's face as if there's something there he can read like a tapestry. "Take it easy, okay? This is hard on you too." He starts to go, leaving Han alone in front of the door to their quarters, which are probably empty, because the sun's still up.

"Luke-"

When Han's turned, Luke is already facing him, because he's an obnoxious Jedi like that. He must have felt Han was going to talk to him again and waited.

He fumbles with his hands. "I'll talk to her, maybe talking to your father wouldn't be so bad."

"You think even bringing it up will make her so angry that you'll spend the whole rest of the night dodging those data readers you've been stashing." Luke chuckles, and yeah, he was just in Han's head.

"I dodge good."

"You do." Luke pauses, then tries to ease the tension he must be able to see like electricity around Han. "Don't push her. She has enough to worry about. I'll talk to our father. He understands."

"it's not him," Han reminds him, rubbing his head again as if that will make him think faster. "It's Vader."

"I know, and Vader isn't our father, not really. I know it's hard."

"Yeah, okay." He sighs, and leans on the wall, studying Luke's expression. "You know, it's too bad you can't see her mom. I think she'd like to be able to talk to her."

"So would I," Luke replies, and he nods, same smile, leaving Han to his thoughts.

Dragging himself up from the wall, Han watches Luke go, then lets himself in to their quarters. The sun beams through their windows, lighting up the room with golden warmth. He'll give that to Hosnian Prime, the sun is beautiful. He glances at the chrono and drops the reader on the table. It's too early for Leia, by a factor of hours, and meetings, and maybe he'll be able to pull her out of the last one because she'll be exhausted.

Dropping into the chair, he sighs then covers his eyes with his hand because he's exhausted, and he's not even pregnant. The sleepless nights were supposed to wait for the kid to actually make an appearance, but he knows when Leia can't sleep and something about her stirring drags him up. He could sneak in a nap before Leia's done for the day, but it's a guilty pleasure because she'd never let herself.

If only he had Luke's way of reaching into her mind and making sure she's all right without interrupting the meeting. Maybe she'll come home early, but he's not sure if he should hope for her giving up the meeting because she's finally admitted she's worn out, or for contractions, because they're ready to meet this kid, even if he's way too comfortable inside right now.

"You're home early."

He jumps out of the chair, staring into the corner where he's been stacking the data readers. That's the corner he gets for his junk, spare parts, blasters he can make better if he just had the right firing pin, and lately, all the work he's been trying to handle for Leia, because on Alderaan he would be General Organa too, all right, and no one really looks or cares what the signature looks like as long as it says General Organa on it somewhere.

"Leia."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asks, holding up one of the readers where she sits cross-legged on the floor. She so cute down there, her belly rounded out in front of her.

Sinking down to his hands and knees next to her, he studies her face, looking for pain, exhaustion, anything he should worry about, but there's only affection and a funny sort of confusion. "Tell you what?"

"That Senator Goskyllah wanted to talk to me about the artwork for the new reception hall, or that the menu for that dinner last week had to be only fish, or this work order for the landing bays that supply the refugee efforts." She pauses, the drops the reader so it clatters on the others sprawled over the floor. "Han."

He brushes his thumb across her cheek then takes her hands, wrapping them up in his. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Her voice catches on the syllables of the word, and her eyes are suddenly wet and okay, she's not angry. "You didn't have to."

Moving next to her, bringing her hands to his chest, he rubs a tear from her cheek. "You wanted to read all this stuff?"

"No, of course not."

That makes him laugh, and he moves the readers aside, making room for her to come into his arms because holding her always helps. He hasn't run into a situation yet that it hasn't helped. Even huge with her pregnancy, she fits between his legs, resting against his chest and he kisses her head. "You work too hard, and everyone knows it, so they just give you more work because they think they need your opinion for everything, but really, one of your aides could pick out dinner, if you let them."

"I let them." She takes a deep breath, snuggling closer. Guiding one of his hands, she places it over the foot pressing outward through her skin. a few months ago it was never definable, but now it's obviously a foot. Their kid's foot.

"Not enough."

"It's not just me, you know," she says, exhaustion seeping through her control over her voice. "Everyone thinks whatever they need is the most important, and that they should come to me."

"Most of them are wrong," he mutters. Leia's hand squeezes his.

"Yes, but I can't tell them that."

Her little fingers trace the back of his hand and he gets comfortable against the wall because they probably won't get up for awhile. Lately once they're all the way down, it's an effort to get back up and they're both spending enough effort just getting through the mess destroying the Empire left.

"You could."

"Sure," he jokes, and sighs, because even though she doesn't admit it, she knows that even his war hero status doesn't help with everything. Some of her petitioners won't be put off by her husband, no matter how much she trusts him.

"But why did you do all of this? You've been wanting to work on the Falcon's sensors and do some racing, and you just said yesterday that you never have any fun anymore."

"This is fun."

"This?" she repeats, turning around to face him. Her familiar, wonderful, deep brown eyes are full of questions, and wonder. She gestures at all the data readers, at the mess. "This isn't fun."

He runs his hand down the back of her head, then smiles. "I love you."

"Han-"

She's not getting it, and as intelligent as she is, that makes it easy to chuckle. "I love you, and I believe I have some time off so I can spend it with you, so we can get ready for the little guy, make sure he has a safe landing. Not so I can tinker with the Falcon."

Leia looks at her belly, then back at him, and maybe it never dawned on her that his time off was for her, for them, and that as much as he loathes politics and all the maneuvering, he'll play the game for her, because he loves her. Their little family is the most important thing in the galaxy, and if chosing a few place settings means she can sleep a little longer, he'll do that. He'll do that the rest of his life if he has to.

"And you're busy, I get that," he continues. "But wading through this helps you be less busy, so you only have to read five things when you get home instead of twelve."

"You're not one of my aides." Leia says, stroking his face. She's crying again, but that happens a lot and she's happier if he just lets her cry without commenting on it. "You're my husband."

"I like to think that makes me chief aide," he says, his tone light. He strokes some of her tears away, but that makes her face crumple. "Hey, hey," he stops, lifting her chin. "That's a joke, remember those?"

She only cries harder, shaking her head. "I love you."

"Which should help my jokes be funny."

Leia puts her forehead on his chest, breathing slowly while he strokes her shoulders. "I've had aides my whole life. I remember one of my nannies teaching me how to make my letters look more like my mother's, and the other explaining how I had to stand up straight, like her, that I had to share, always, because I could never put myself ahead of my people. I've had so many people look after me so I could look after everyone. That's my life."

She looks up for a moment, tracing his collar with trembling fingers. "But you, you did this for me."

"I love you," he reminds her, lifting her chin. Maybe they just haven't said it enough lately. "I want you to be happy, to sleep, to feel like you don't have to read through dinner."

"I'm sorry."

"Let's go," he says, ignoring her apology. Han kisses her forehead then meets her eyes, watching surprise pass through her face. "You, me, Luke and Chewie, because we'll never be able to leave without them. We can go anywhere, the Alderaan colony on Espirion, Kashyyk or Yavin- somewhere where no one can hand you or me any more damn data readers." Snapping his fingers, he grins. "Takodana. Maz adores you, and she'd love to see Chewie. Her castle's neutral so no one will even talk to us."

She laughs gently before she kisses him. "A smugglers' hideout is your idea of a vacation."

"It's the last place where anyone will need assistance from a person with your renowned talents." He kisses her again, sealing his decision. "Come on, you can tell Luke he's coming with us and watch me pack, and then we'll take the Falcon and just hide the from galaxy for awhile."