Ben stalks into Milliways in a dirty and rumpled GAG uniform, clearly in a bad mood. Today, he's not just a Jedi apprentice or boy soldier: today, he's a teenager whose parents are being really unfair.
"Ughhh. Caf, please," he mutters to Bar
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There's something about his pouting and the honest naivety in his eyes that's very, very familiar.
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"Oh. Aunt Leia?"
He's still frowning. She looks young. ... She must be wearing a lot of make-up.
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"I..."
She clears her throat, trying to buy time. Aunt Leia? She doesn't have any brothers or sisters -- oh, kriff. Did Winter have a child with Luke Skywalker in the future? Is that what's happening here?
No. No, there could be a hundred different scenarios.
Leia frowns back. "I suppose. What's your name?"
Wait! she thinks. I don't know how to be an aunt!
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"Ben," he says, implying the duh.
...but her confusion feels genuine. And then he remembers, Milliways.
He sighs.
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"Well, Ben," there's annoyance in her sigh, "I've never seen you before."
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The 'no outside business' rule doesn't apply to the Galactic Alliance Guard under normal circumstances, of course.
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"Who are your parents?" Leia demands, almost as if she needs to go have a talk with them about their son tossing a smashball into her living room window. IF LEIA EVEN ~HAD~ A HOUSE OR A LIVING ROOM ANYMORE, THAT IS.
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"Uh, I don't know if I can tell you. That might be like telling you the future. I might stop existing."
He belatedly covers up the nametag on his jacket. Then carefully glances down at it. Hmm, it's covered in as much dirt and grease as the rest of his uniform anyway. Probably safe.
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"My apologies. I understand."
Still, it bothers her. Bar gives Leia her toast and she scrapes jam onto each slice, still stealing an occasional glance.
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