A/N: Organanation was sad and missing new Han/Leia fic. I offered to lend a hand, and she requested some sweet, married fluff. I have to admit my fluff skills are a little rusty, but still. It's Han/Leia! It's new! It's a thing! Enjoy!

His eyes were closed, but Leia Organa Solo would bet any number of credits that Han was awake. He was lying on his stomach, face turned toward her. She smiled at the hair hanging over his eyelids, defiant as the man himself. The stubble on his jaw gave him an air of danger, the one she secretly loved but had to ignore in public. The sheet was pulled to the middle of his back, just below his shoulder blades, leaving tanned, smooth skin exposed to the cool morning air. Leia was tempted to sweep a hand over him, brush her fingertips against that warm skin.

But it had been a long night and he deserved sleep, if indeed he was asleep. The jury was still out on that one.

The morning light spilled through the viewport, casting the room in blush pinks. Their apartment was too big for them, she too removed from her life of privilege on Alderaan and he far more comfortable on a CEC YT-1300 freighter. But short of calling up the Chief of State herself to complain about overly-opulent accommodations, Leia's hands were tied. Settled now, with an eclectic mix of Alderaanian relics and the general clutter of marriage, it felt like home, even if it was still just the two of them. Chewie had a guest room: Luke, too. When everyone was around, she appreciated the space, so she just dealt with the times when she was alone and the apartment felt cavernous.

She watched the light drift over him. He'd come home late last night, flying like a madman to catch the tail end of their anniversary. She hadn't known he'd been attempting it; they'd agreed to celebrate whenever he got home, deciding long ago that flexibility for two incredibly busy people was probably the best route. Leia had been stuck in senate sessions for eleven straight hours the day before and was quite prepared to sleep alone that night.

It hadn't seemed like a sacrifice until her husband had suddenly lunged through their bedroom door an hour before the date shifted. And then the emotional floodgates had opened and she'd realized how much she had really, really needed to see him.

She smiled, turning onto her side to face him. He looked tired, the lines around his eyes just a little more pronounced than usual. She wondered what he'd seen this last month, if he'd been eating well, sleeping enough. If he'd been in danger.

Her smile faded. That was always the fear, though she refused to convince or manipulate him into choosing a safer occupation simply because she worried. It wasn't fair to either of them. But it didn't comfort her much when she heard reports of pirates on the Rim, or the vestiges of Imperial forces causing a ruckus out on the Perlemian Trade Route.

She exhaled and scooted closer to him, welcoming the warmth he radiated. Deciding that he was at best only half-asleep and that he would appreciate her need for affection after such a long time apart, she raised her right hand and ran her fingers from his shoulder to bicep to elbow. She caught the lift at the corner of his mouth and scooted closer still until she could press her lips against the tip of his shoulder.

He didn't make a sound, though he unfolded the arm she had been touching and wrapped it around her waist. Leia closed her eyes and pressed her nose against his shoulder. "Good morning," she said quietly. "How long have you been awake?"

He didn't open his eyes, but his voice was clear. "I'm not awake. Pretty sure I'm dreaming."

"Really?" she asked, knowing he was baiting her.

"Yup," he said. "Wife is right next to me. Good dream."

She closed her eyes for a moment and smiled ruefully. "Surely your dreams are more exotic than waking up next to me."

An eye popped open and he looked squarely at her, not a hint of sleep anywhere in his gaze. "Are you kidding? That's the best dream I have."

Leia smiled, flattered despite herself, and leaned over his shoulder to kiss his lips. "You're getting soft in your old age, Captain," she teased him. "What happened to the man who said I know when I first told him I loved him?"

"I did know."

"It was cocky."

"Sure." He rolled his eyes - the one that was visible, anyway. "But it was still true."

"Mmm-hmm," she said. "And so? Where is he now?"

"Well," he said, abandoning his pretense of sleep and pushing up on an elbow. His other arm was still lying over her waist. "Honestly, I think you wore him out last night."

There was still a fair amount of space between them. As much as she wanted to feel him pressed against her, skin to skin, Leia also appreciated the value of anticipation. Delayed gratification was her modus operandi. "Ah. I was afraid of that," she said, sighing. "The trials of marrying an older man."

"Yeah."

"You're the expert on older models," she said, running a foot between his calves. "Should I upgrade?"

He made a face. "No one with any class ever upgrades, Princess. You invest and fly it into a sun when the time is right."

"Good to know," she said. This was becoming something of a game. The more she wanted to pull him to her, close the distance and be surrounded by him, the more nonchalant he acted. Familiar with the rules, she pressed her free hand to the bed beneath her and faked a disinterested yawn. "I guess it'd be better for the old ship to go down sooner rather than later."

He cocked an eyebrow, amused at her phrasing. "Go down?"

She hadn't misspoken. "A moment of glory before the end, and all that," she said, unable to hide the slight grin.

"Glory for who? You or me?" he wondered.

"What is an old ship compared to a sun?" she challenged.

"What indeed," he agreed, conceding defeat. He quickly yanked her to him and rolled so that he half-lay on top of her. His left leg pressed between hers and while his hips still held his weight to the side of her, his upper body was a warm presence all around her torso. "I should know better than to try to outwit you in the morning."

She smiled at him. "I love that you keep trying."

"Never learned to cut my losses," he said, before he kissed her. His lips felt warm and unhurried against hers. She pressed her hand to the side of his face, then swept it up into his hair. He didn't try to initiate anything more, just kept nibbling her lips and surrounding her in the warmth she so desperately needed from him. Happiness bubbled up in her chest and when he pressed a final kiss to her forehead, she was smiling. "Good morning," he said, smiling down at her. "You're a sight for sore eyes."

"You too," she said, really looking at him now. The lines around his eyes were still troublingly deep: they weren't laugh lines or wrinkles, they were exhausted chinks in his armor. "You haven't been sleeping."

He shrugged. "Tough without you sometimes. I could accuse you of the same thing."

She waved off his concern. "Story of my life."

"Then why the hell aren't we still sleeping?" he growled, kissing her neck lightly. "I cancelled all your meetings today so we could sleep."

It occurred to her to be angry at his presumption. Cancelling all her meetings would mean more meetings later this week and would just defer her exhaustion. He wasn't doing anything other than putting off the inevitable. Beyond that, she didn't really love the idea of creating a precedence of him reorganizing her work whenever he felt like it.

But that was unfair. Work was work, it would always be there. And the odds were good that he had done equal rearranging to get here in time. Either that or he'd risked life and limb in a reckless torrent to get to her before their anniversary was over. And while she didn't particularly approve of Han Solo-speed treks back to Coruscant, it did make quite the romantic gesture. Her tone was mild when she spoke again. "How did you manage that?"

"Called your office last night. Told them you were gonna be sick."

"Your powers of precognizance are legendary around my office," she said. "Most husbands would wait until the morning."

"I'm not most husbands," he said. "Result is the same."

True. "A whole day?" she asked. "An entire day?"

He grinned and her heart fluttered. "An entire day," he affirmed.

She honestly couldn't remember the last time this had happened. Between the senate and Han's schedule, they rarely had enough time for a meal together, much less a day. Luke had even mentioned it on his last visit. Aren't you lonely? he'd asked. It just seems like a lot of time apart, that's all.

It was a lot of time apart, and she supposed to most other couples it would be a sign of trouble. But that simply wasn't the case with them. She missed him, he missed her; that was going to be a reality for them both. And when her senatorial term was up, Leia knew it would come time to have another talk about what they wanted in the future. He'd mentioned children on more than one occasion and Leia was still unsure about the repercussions of her half of the genetics. But she was slowly coming around to the idea, and he'd told her that he'd gladly shift over to an administrative position once they made a clear decision on that front.

This time in their lives wouldn't last forever. In fact, it was probably in it's death throes. They could manage just a bit longer.

"I don't want to sleep," she said, wiping away her introspection in favor of the much more alluring crooked grin in front of her.

"Really?" he said, amused. "And what would you like?"

"I want you to kiss me again," she said. "And then I want breakfast."

"Yes, ma'am," Han said, pressing his lips to hers obediently. She loved how he kissed her in the mornings, like they had all the time in the galaxy. They had a tendency to let the urgency of the moment take over at night; their mornings were more for affection than gratification. For the most part. He kissed her sweetly, slowly, and Leia's hand drifted back up into his hair in an effort to bring him closer.

He pulled his lips away at the same time he sat up, and Leia had to rearrange her expression before he saw her pout. She stretched and watched him stand up and amble over to the closet to retrieve a pair of loose sleep pants. She propped her head on her fist as she followed him with her eyes, biting a lip. When he emerged, pants on and hair still in complete disarray, she couldn't help her reaction. "Come back to bed," she murmured. "I was wrong. Forget breakfast."

He grinned, white teeth flashing. Climbing back onto the bed, he kneeled beside her and placed an arm on either side of her body. "Nah," he said. "What is it you always say? Anticipation is key?"

She frowned. "That's what I say. It's not what you say."

He leaned in. "Maybe you're rubbing off on me. Or," he kissed her ear, "maybe I figure you didn't eat anything last night."

Her frown turned into a scowl and he smiled brightly at her as he climbed down off the bed. She got up and put on her robe, tying her hair back into a haphazard bun. It was an absolute disaster this morning, it always was after a good night like the one they'd had. She decided to ignore it and followed the sound of Han banging around in the kitchen.

When she arrived, all the lights were on full and she squinted blearily into the caf dispenser display, adjusting it to Han's preference. "Why do you need every single light on when you cook?" she asked.

"Why do you cook in the dark?" he countered. "Can't see a damn thing."

She shook her head at the old argument and reached for his mug in the cabinet. "It's called mood lighting and it means you don't give your wife a headache first thing in the morning."

She handed him his mug and then switched the dispenser back to her preference. Her own mug in hand, she turned to watch his back as he cooked - eggs? She wasn't sure. It didn't matter; he'd been right. She hadn't eaten anything last night and she could probably use a good breakfast. The caf helped wake her up some and by the time he began reaching for the seasonings, she was ready with plates and silverware.

"Let's say, hypothetically, that you were correct and that I am hungry," she said as she handed him the first plate.

He looked at her patiently. "You were the one that brought up breakfast."

She ignored him and handed him the second plate. "Hypothetically, this looks delicious."

"Yup," he nodded, turning off the heating unit with a flourish and grabbing her hand. "Happens when you wait a month for me to feed you."

She bit back her reply, mostly because the eggs really did look delicious, and they walked through the apartment. Though the expansive suite had a full entertaining area and dining room, she'd taken to eating in the much less formal communication alcove just off the main living room. They had a nasty habit of only being able to comm each other during meal breaks, so Leia, ever the efficiency expert, usually ate right in the alcove. It was comfortable, familiar, reminiscent of the Falcon's lounge.

It was even better with Han there with her, telling her about his latest assignments in person. She should probably feel self-conscious about the way she was hanging all over him, sitting perpendicular to him with her legs across his lap and his left hand caressing her calves. But she felt nothing but peace, the tranquility of their quiet banter soothing the anxiety she'd lived with for the past month. Knowing that he was safe for the moment, still happy, still argumentative and brash …

She felt good.

"Leia?"

She snapped her eyes back to him, realizing that she must have turned inwards and tuned out of the conversation. "Sorry," she said. "Got lost in my thoughts. What were you saying?"

He gave her an odd look. "Nothing important," he said, eyeing her. "What's going on?"

She look her head. "Really, it's nothing. I'm just … I'm happy." She smiled at him. "Takes me by surprise every once in awhile."

His face went through a number of expressions before he settled on a slight smile. "Yeah," he pulled her to him, kissed her temple. "I know what you mean. Feels unreal, doesn't it?"

She nodded. Her life had not been established for happy. Her biological father had been a monster. She'd been raised lovingly enough but the importance of duty loomed over every part of life in Aldera. Then Coruscant, the Rebellion, now Coruscant again. Endless work, endless tragedy, the pursuit of happiness for others. But none of that meant personal happiness. None of that meant someone to love, someone who loved her, too. No quiet mornings in bed and breakfasts in bright kitchens. Nothing to make all the work and the tragedy mean something.

"Unreal," she repeated. "Exactly."

Somewhere along the line, Leia had found happiness. As she leaned against Han and ate her breakfast, she decided to stop worrying and simply enjoy it.

Fluff is so much harder than I remember it being. Props to you fluff authors. Seriously. -KR