The following was submitted by StatsGrandma.
Han and Leia had just moved into the apartment on Coruscant. It was a pleasant place, lots of good natural light, new and very comfortable furniture, lovely parquet floors and Drallian rugs covering just enough of them.
Leia had taken some time off after their wedding and honeymoon, and was having a lovely time making the new home reflect both of them. She was, admittedly, grateful that the heads of various bounty hunters were not available; Han had expressed to her that he felt they would make for a most interesting decor. Leia shuddered at the thought and while she knew Han was joking, Han was, well, capable of pulling off some pretty amazing (and cringeworthy) jokes.
Leia smiled at the thought of him pulling pranks. Apparently, it had been a lifelong pleasure of his, and for the most part, she found them funny, save for the times when she was the target. And even then, after some time had passed, they made for some pretty entertaining memories.
The task she'd embarked on was putting up some holos to personalize the place. The hard part of that was that neither of them had very many. Leia only had the ones she'd taken with her when she went off to fight in the rebellion. She sat down and went through them.
There was one that was taken when she was three, sitting in the kitchen of the palace, laughing and talking to her as she painted pictures and chattered on. She blinked back a few tears; her father had been strict with her, and his expectations stratospheric, but he had also been kind and gentle with her, and they enjoyed each other's company.
She remembered the first time she'd shown the holo to Han. He had smiled and said, "I think I like your stepdad better than your bio dad." Both had laughed, but Leia so wished Bail Organa was still alive. He would have had plenty of misgivings about Han initially, and maybe later on, but she knew that with time and some patience, they would have learned to like and respect each other.
One when she was five, standing with her mother and father at an official function, wearing a white dress (she seemed to always be in white, Han had once observed, at least up until the victory at Endor), standing solemnly in front of them, her hands folded, her braids pulled so tightly that her head had ached.
Holos of her with Winter, having the rare carefree day away from royal obligations. Her first day as a senator in her white gown, wearing the hair style that she preferred to relegate to oblivion. It was the look she had when she first met Han Solo, who was, in her opinion at the time, lower than a bantha on the food chain.
That hadn't lasted, she observed, smiling to herself.
She had only a few holos, but Han had even fewer. No photos existed of him prior to his late teens. She imagined that his features in early adolescence were softer than they were now. There was a photo of him from graduation from the Imperial Academy. He looked solemn and was very, very thin. He seemed awkward in uniform, as if the high collar was bothering him (she was certain that it had).
She knew of Bria, and there were a few holos of them together that had been taken by her father, a man he had liked and deeply respected. The property they occupied looked opulent. They looked young and clearly in love.
Leia knew of Bria mostly by way of history, but Han had something of a different take on her. According to him, she used him after a long separation. He never said much about it, but she could see that his bottomless emotions had been tapped, and Leia knew better than to pursue it. Han had had his share of crazy ex girlfriends, and he said that he liked them in one way: scarce.
She had gone through the very small stack of his holos when she stumbled across a holo that surprised her. Han was sitting on the edge of a swimming pool, surrounded by lush vegetation, with a few days' growth of facial hair -- and wearing nothing but a very tight swimsuit, a towel nearby. She was trying to determine what he was feeling in that moment; he seemed to be, well, almost shy. The idea of Han Solo feeling modest was an aspect of him that she would have never guessed he possessed.
That momentary lapse of confidence, to her mind, made him all that much hotter in her mind. She smiled as she began arranging the holos on the wall, musing about what she planned to do with him when he got home.
"Honey, I'm home!" Leia had been so lost in thought that she was jarred at first. She stood up and went over to him, hugging him tightly and enjoying his kiss, something she never would tire of. "Looks like you've been having fun with the holos. Just do me a favor and don't put mine up."
"Why not? It's part of your history, of who you are."
"Leia, sweetheart, as far as my history goes, it started with you. Anything earlier just doesn't matter."
"I don't know. I came across this one," she said, pointing to the holo of him at the pool."
"Oh, please, that's a horrible shot. I don't know why I kept it."
"I don't know. It's been giving me all kinds of ideas."
"Hmm. What did you have in mind?"
"If you have to ask..." Leia laughed and pulled him towards the bedroom.
"On second thought, maybe we can keep it," Han said as he followed her.