Somewhere in the evening, while they were working out the logistics for a tricky run, Han looked up from the endless piles of flimsi, a weirdly soft look on his face as he said, "You gotta admit it all worked out pretty good, right?"

Mara's first instinct was to ask where the hell that came from, but she looked across the room and understood - their Morning wife and Chief of State smiled triumphantly down at her datapad as she worked yet another crisis out, her feet in the lap of their Morning husband as he chatted to the twins over a grainy holo connection about an old Jedi artifact he'd just found, and they themselves sat together with their handwriting overlapping on scratch-sheets and all their belongings comfortably strewn together - a scene Mara could never have imagined when Han had first casually asked her what she knew about sedoretu and she had been half-waiting for the trap to spring.

After all these years - after hundreds of dejarik games and sparring matches and rescues in battle, after thousands of kisses - Mara finally had it in her to grin back at him, and throw her arm around his shoulder, and say, "You know what, this time I think you're right."