Done for a challenge a long time ago. Was promptly told that it was OOC and not shippy enough. I'm not a shippy kind of person, though.

It was ridiculous. Anti-climatic, even. According to the theory of uncomfortable meetings with your ex-boyfriend, she should have met him at a diplomatic function of some sort, or the usual kind of death-defying mission to save the galaxy, or even at a funeral.

They definitely weren't supposed to meet for the first time in six years in a candy store.

Of course, when had anything happened like it was supposed to for them? For one thing, they never went on dates (although, in her family, that was perfectly normal) or kissed in public (well, not much, anyway) or had roaring fights (which was very unlike the Skywalker legacy – maybe it skipped generations).

Right now, they weren't even having a horrible misunderstanding about their respective flavors of the week. Zekk was getting married to some Bothan girl, and Kyp was in the hospital (again), and all the other black-haired, green-eyed males in her immediate vicinity had significant others (which meant she was stuck with blondes. Blondes didn't have more fun.) And she got the feeling that all the human women in the Unknown Region were related to him and all the Chiss women were too…pragmatic. This was saying a lot, when it came to him.

Either way, they were both single, and chatting companionably about the merits of dark chocolate versus white.

They were so untraditional. She was surprised that her mother didn't pop out of nowhere and start a harangue on proper Skywalker courting behavior. Or would that be Luke?

"So, what do you work as, nowadays? I heard you got out a few years back."

Somehow, they've left the candy store behind, and they're walking up the street in the general direction of her house. He's carrying the candy she bought ("…a gentleman never makes a lady work…") and looking absolutely immaculate. She, on the other hand, is looking less so.

She always had the crappiest luck when it came to clothes and guys.

"Hey, Jaina. You still with me?"

See above statement in reference to guys and conversation.

"Yeah, sorry. Phased off there for a minute. What did you say?"

"I asked you what you were doing these days."

She looks at him like he lost his mind at the candy store.

"You know, according to tradition, we're supposed to be clumsily declaring our undying love for each other."

He gives her the same look he always gives her whenever she says or does something stupid.

"So funny I forgot to laugh. Answer the question, please."

She pretty impressed. She'd never heard him growl before.

"I got out a few years ago. Too much paperwork. Went into ship design – didn't realize the tax forms were twice as bad. Now I have my own company. I'm doing pretty well, even if I do say so myself."

She preens a bit, proud. It's the one thing in the galaxy that no one could say she got from her family, the one thing that's all her own. Jag is suitably impressed.

"What about you? Shouldn't you be off doing the diplomatic dance?"

She says the last mockingly, and he grimaces.

"I did my two years and then I got out. Retired, went back to school, and got my doctorate, etc, etc."

She considers him from the corner of her eyes.

"Let me rephrase that. What are you doing here?"

He gives her one of his famous thin half-smiles.

"The university here offered me a job as a professor of linguistics in the Unknown Regions, with an emphasis on the Csillan language. I decided to take it."

Her grin flickered on and off in a millisecond; Han Solo may have had the fastest ship in the world, but his daughter had the fastest smile.

"Wow, I'm talking to a college professor of linguistics. Makes me feel guilty I never finished secondary school."

He rolls his eyes in exasperation and tugs on her messy ponytail in retaliation.

They walk in companionable silence through the quiet residential area. It's nice, to talk to him again. She had thought it would be uncomfortable, and it is, to some degree, but only the oddness of talking to a man that she used to know very well. People change when they're not at war.

"Hey, do you want to get some caf?"

His question come right out of the blue, and she just stops walking and stares at him with a look he's probably categorized as Facial Expressions #271: This isn't part of the romance formula, you dolt!

Jag is unimpressed, as usual.

"Jaina, I know this is a stunning epiphany for you, but we're not in a war anymore. You're a ship-builder, and I'm teacher, and I'd like to get to know you better. I think it would be fun to talk about something that doesn't involve the words blast radius or Goddess and do something normal people do. Does that sound good to you?"

She looks at him, wondering when he got so fluent in Basic.

"In other words, you want to go out on a date."

He takes a slow breath and counts to ten in his head and then exhales. Mom used to do this all the time when she was a kid.

"All right. Can we stop by my house first? I want to get into some decent clothes."

He grins, and says that she looks fine as she does, why does she want to change? She just laughs and swats him upside the head. They walk around the corner to her house, and as she fumbles with her keys, she thinks that although they aren't planning the wedding, or passionately kissing, or even holding hands, it's OK. It's more than OK.

"Hey, do you want to see my new designs?"