The Painter's Honeymoon

Han looked at her with deep love, special love. For she was a special woman.A princess not by title, but by heart. Her fortitude astounded him, yet she heldherself so lightly. Once, he'd wanted whatever he wanted, for himself, because hewanted it. Now he wanted everything for her. Her everythings. And one thing hecould see she wanted dearly, was Luke. "You really care for him, don't you?" She nodded, scanning the sky. He was alive, Luke was alive. And theother—the Dark One—was dead. "Well, listen," Han went on, "I understand. When he gets back, I won't stand inyour way…" She squinted at him, suddenly aware they were crossing wires, having differentconversations. "What are you talking about?" she said. Then she realized what hewas talking about. "Oh, no. No," she laughed, "it's not like that at all—Luke is mybrother." Han was successively stunned, embarrassed, and elated. This made everythingfine, just fine.