Last chapter! My thanks to StatsGrandma57 for reading through this for me. And thank you to everyone who read, reviewed and followed the story.

Worst Vacation Ever

Chapter Six

Leia sat on the balcony watching blue-violet waves lap at the fringes of sparkling sands. The turquoise sky was filled with sea-avians, swathed in rainbows of colors. It was paradise; there really was no other way to describe it.

With a sigh, she tried to flex the fingers of her right hand. They moved, but only slightly, as if they were doing so grudgingly. She picked up the coolpak she'd set aside on the balcony railing, and once again applied it to her swollen and bruised appendage. She really didn't think that the coolpak was doing her hand any good, but Elaintis's one doctor had insisted that she use it. So had Han. There were some things you just didn't bother to fight about.

"You know, I still can't believe this view."

Leia turned at the sound of her husband's voice. He paused for a minute to look out across the beach before dropping into the chair next to her. He propped his bare feet on the railing in front of them. Leia noted that he was still holding his injured arm stiffly. If they'd been home on Coruscant, one trip to the medcenter would have had that arm fixed as good as new. Her hand, too, now that she thought about it.

"How's your hand?" Han asked her. He could always read her thoughts.

"It's much better," she lied.

Han reached over and plucked the coolpak off the injured member. One eyebrow rose doubtfully. Running a gentle finger over the scabbed knuckles, he winced in sympathy.

"For a little thing, you sure know how to throw a punch," he teased.

"Very funny. I wouldn't have to, if you could just learn to duck." She put the coolpak back on her hand; at least that hid the damage. "How's your arm?" Leia asked him.

"It's just fine."

Leia reached out a hand, her good hand, and motioned as if she were going to poke him. Han shied back and winced.

"Oh, really?" Her own eyebrows arched.

"Gimme a break! I've had worse." He smiled complacently. "This'll just leave another scar." Han shrugged. "It adds character."

"I think you've already got enough of that," Leia retorted, picturing the other marks of 'character' that peppered his body. But she smiled back; what else could she do?

She supposed yesterday could be considered a character builder, but it was still an experience she could have done without. Yes, it might have been so much worse, she thought with a sour smile, but still…

The whole elaborate scheme had been set up by El'd'rad, when he recognized their names on the reservations. He really was smart, as Lian Greelanx had boasted, arranging the complicated deception in a matter hours. The irony was that El'd'rad had already known Lian Greelanx—they'd bonded through a mutual hatred of Han Solo. Maybe Han was right—maybe there was a club—people waiting to get him on account of his former life!

And there had never been a star destroyer. Poor Han! The former smuggler had been fooled by the combination of a false sensor reading and a false transponder code. If word ever got out, he'd never live it down!

Leia reached over to brush her fingertips across his hand. Han's fingers squeezed back tenderly in reply. They sat together, watching the waves and the avians. They didn't talk, there was no need to. It was perfect.

"I want to go home."

"Huh?" Han let his feet fall from the railing and turned to look at Leia. "Wait a minute?" he asked her. "What?"

"I want to go home." she repeated.

"But I thought you said this place was perfect?"

"I did. And now—I want to go home."

Han didn't miss the little pause in her statement; that was always a clear indication that the princess meant business. He allowed shock to register on his features.

"But we have four more days," he objected. "And I'm reasonably sure there won't be any more death threats—or imaginary star destroyers." He smiled encouragingly at her.

"I don't care!" Leia exclaimed, tossing the coolpak to one side in an uncharacteristic show of temper. She surged to her feet. "This has been a miserable trip!" she continued. "I want to go back to my messy flat and demanding job! I want to sleep in my own bed! I want to kiss my babies." She drew a shuddering breath. "I want to make sure your arm is properly taken care of," she put a finger to his lips to stop him from interrupting, "and my hand," she concluded with a wry smile. "I just want it to be over."

Han stood and gathered his wife carefully into his arms, tactfully ignoring the tears that welled in her eyes. They stayed like that for some time, and while Leia reined in her emotions, Han enjoyed the comfortable feel of her body against his, the clean scent of her shampoo, her place in his life. He loosened his hold on her when he felt her spine stiffen. She tumbled back down in her chair.

"But we can't just go home," she sighed, wiping at an escaped tear. "It wouldn't be fair to Chewie. He was really looking forward to this week."

Han sat back down as well. "It's okay, Chewie's good with it," he told her.

"What?!" Leia was stunned; she jumped back to her feet. "You commed Chewie?"

"And Tycho. And Mara." His lopsided grin was positively blinding. "We've got it all worked out."

"What did…?" she began. "How is this…?" Leia stopped, started, stopped again. "Why did you talk to Mara?" she asked. It might be the least important question, but it was the best she could come up with.

"Luke wasn't around. I think he was off someplace corrupting our children." Han's smile wavered a little. Leia could see that he was only half joking about her brother and the twins.

"Don't worry," she said. "Luke knows how we feel about training the kids before they're older." She looked Han straight in the eyes. "Okay, Flyboy, spill!" Leia poked an uninjured finger into the middle of her husband's chest. "What have you been doing?"

Han leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head, the off-center grin firmly back in place. "It's good to have friends in high places. When I called Chewie, he was ready to jump into the Falcon and rush us back to Coruscant." The smile faltered, just for a minute. "I really didn't want him to do that, so I started thinking. Then I called Tycho, who told me Wedge actually was on planet." The smile reappeared. "They arranged for Chewie to borrow a shuttle, one of those old lambda class jobs. He just has to come back to Coruscant with us to pick it up."

"Chewie hates those things," Leia commented.

"Tycho offered to let him borrow his X-wing."

Leia sputtered out a laugh. Picturing Chewbacca folded into the cockpit of an X-wing was quite an image.

"Chewie will be here first thing in the morning," Han continued. "By tomorrow evening he should be back on Kashyyyk again with Malla and Lumpy." His smile grew soft. "And we should be back in our messy flat with our three messy kids." Han flicked a finger across Leia's cheek. "I knew you wanted to go home."

"You did all this for me?" Leia could feel the tears starting again.

"Well, yeah!" Han grinned smugly. "Anyway, I want to go home, too."

Careful of his injured arm, Leia tightly hugged her husband. Careful of her injured hand, Han hugged his wife tightly back.

"This has been one hell of a vacation," she commented from the vicinity of Han's breast bone. She could feel his answering nod against her hair.

"Hey," he asked, stepping back, "do you want to go try out the bed again?"

Leia looked up at him. "To sleep?" she asked hopefully.

"Hells, yes," he agreed with a yawn. "We can save the good stuff for when we're at home."