Chapter Text
Prologue
“His cold politeness, his ceremonious grace, were worse than anything.”
Jane Austen, Persuasion
Chapter One
Apartment 4708, Aurek Tower
Federal District, Coruscant
The apartment had gone dark while Han waited on the sofa. He hadn't bothered to turn on the lights.
Finally, the alarm sounded and the front door cycled open.
First came the bag, dropped onto the floor. Then the shoes, kicked off where he’d inevitably trip over them.
With a sigh, Leia shrugged off her jacket and headed toward the wet bar.
She flipped on a light.
"I didn't see you.” She took out a cut-glass tumbler. “What are you doing sitting there in the dark?"
"You're late."
"Apparently."
Han ran his thumb along the seam of the sofa. "That's three nights this week."
"Then I'm improving."
Leia dropped three cubes into the glass and took a sip. "Don't start, it's been a long day."
"Well," Han said, getting to his feet. "It's about to get longer."
“Han, please. I still have a pile of work to do.”
“Is it actually yours?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“We were supposed to have lunch today.”
Her face fell for a moment. “Did Te not call you?”
“No, she did. I stopped by your office anyway."
She froze.
"Te said you were down in Transportation."
Han frowned.
"Funny, last I checked, you were the Ambassador of Interplanetary Affairs."
"This is ridiculous. Six months of work was about to fall apart."
"That's not your job."
"Someone had to do it."
“Why does it always have to be you?”
She crossed her arms. “Is this what this is about: my work schedule.”
It was on the tip of Han’s tongue to reply: no, your home schedule. But he didn’t.
He crossed to the balcony. Outside, streams of speeders stitched ribbons of light between the towers.
"So, what is this?"
Han kept his back to her. "You keep trying to carry this whole damn planet."
She scoffed.
"You know what I saw in your building today?"
"What?"
"People. Lots and lots of godsdamn people. You don't have to be everywhere. Do it all."
"I think I know that."
"Do you?"
Leia crossed her arms. "For Sith’s sake. You’re talking in circles. What is this really about, Han?"
He watched a speeder bank to the left and drop down to a lower space lane. “I don’t ask for much. For a godsdamn lunch every now and then.”
She laughed. "You know what's funny?"
He kept watching the traffic below.
"You keep acting like I'm the only one who's nonexistent around here."
He turned away from the window. "Because you are. I’m the only one who keeps showing up.”
"Here, yes?" She gestured toward him. "But when was the last time you talked about anything besides that ship?"
Han said nothing.
"You spend every free minute on the Falcon."
"Because somebody has to."
"No." She shook her head. "Because it's the only thing you still care about."
"I don't—" He stopped and ran his fingers through his hair.
Then he laughed once.
Not because anything was funny.
Because he suddenly felt very tired.
"You really think that's it?"
Leia folded her arms. "I don’t know what to think."
The city lights drifted across the apartment walls.
"You really don't know, do you?"
"What are you talking about?"
He grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair.
"For the love of-."
He turned back toward her. "For months I've been trying to tell you something."
"What? That you want to have lunch? That I can't work late?"
He laughed.
A tired, defeated sound.
"Goodnight, Leia."
He headed toward the door.
Stopped.
Waited.
A question.
A protest.
Something.
Nothing came.
His hand hovered over the scanner for one last heartbeat.
Behind him, the apartment remained quiet.
The door slid open.
He left.
Federal District, Coruscant
Three Days Later, late evening…
Han sat in the cafe. His table by the window.
The kaffe was terrible. The food was worse.
He was there for the view.
Three nights of sleeping on the Falcon.
Three days of checking whether his comm was broken.
Working on the Falcon hadn’t helped.
Neither had replaying that night over and over in his mind.
He twisted the ring on his left hand.
The skin beneath it felt raw.
The office doors finally opened.
She walked out of her building.
Holding that bag. Wearing the jacket. Those shoes.
Her hand went up, hailing a taxi.
She looked at a datapad while she waited.
A few more people came out of her building. Stood beside her. She talked to them.
Then she got in her taxi. And drove away.
Han sat in the cafe until it closed.
The Millennium Falcon
Private Hangar, Federal District, Coruscant
The next morning…
“Someday you’ll have to donate this thing to a museum.”
Han smiled. “Funny, coming from someone who’s actually in a museum.”
“Don’t remind me,” Carlist Rieekan replied.
Han wasn’t surprised to see Carlist. It hadn’t taken long for word to get around that he had requested a short leave to visit his old co-pilot.
And few knew Han and Leia better than Carlist.
Han went back to prepping his ship.
“You sure about this?”
“Sure as I am about anything.”
“You, uh, said goodbye to anyone else?”
“A few people.”
Carlist opened his mouth.
The tools on Han's workbench suddenly seemed far more interesting.
Whatever question hung between them, they both already knew it.
“Well,” Carlist stuck his hand out. “Tell Chewbacca we send our best.”
Han took his hand and shook it. “I will.”