Are you tempted to repeatedly glance towards a calendar, continually counting the blocks to be absolutely certain of the number of days remaining until a particular date?

Do you find yourself making more time these days to pull out that series of three books with the, by now, well-worn cover, flipping through the pages and experiencing nostalgia mixed with a sense of deep longing?

Have you caught yourself hunting about in the attic or storage closet to locate the sleeping bag you remember once owning in the event you should happen to decide it's necessary to camp out near a particular local bookstore on some upcoming November evening?

If you've been experiencing something like this lately, then this story is dedicated to you.

Note: These characters don't belong to me. But you already know that. You also know to whom they DO belong. So let's get on with the story...
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THE WAITING

by Michelle Lunsford (10/09/97)

Mara Jade paced restlessly inside the cockpit of the ship as it swept through hyperspace. It was a short walk, considering the cockpit was only large enough to house the necessary control panels and two chairs, one for a pilot and one for a co-pilot. She paused long enough to cast a glance at a display that silently ticked away measurements of both time and distance. In doing so Mara also noticed the look from her companion, complete with an eyebrow raised ever so slightly, but most definitely accusingly, over one blue eye. She responded with an emphatic 'humph' of annoyance and returned to her meticulously measured march across the short distance of floor.

"Will you stop worrying," Luke said calmly. "We'll make it to Earth before the November release date."

Mara spun around, red-gold tresses swaying with the movement. "You don't have to tell me again. 'We've already waited several months, we can wait a few more days,'" she mimicked the well rehearsed words. "But you don't know how difficult it's been," Mara declared in exasperation. "Forced to do things and say things that are so foreign to my character, slinking about in tight fitting flightsuits, never knowing what my hair color is going to be from one chapter to the next, having to be seen in other people's shirts, not being trusted by people who are supposed to be my friends, and blast it all, why can't anyone seem to remember that you gave me this?" she exclaimed, indicating the silver handled object at her waist.

Luke stood, taking her shoulders in a firm but comforting grip, and placed a light kiss on her forehead.

Mara felt herself relax a little. "I shouldn't take my frustration out on you," she apologized. "It's not your fault."

"No, it's okay," he assured. "Remember, I understand how you feel."

Mara met his eyes, a familiar cold feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. Luke had certainly experienced his own share of tortures; bouts of depression and floundering from one extreme to the next as the authors unsuccessfully attempted to describe what it meant to be a Jedi Master. And then there was the dreadful Callista ordeal. "I'm sorry," Mara said softly. "I didn't mean to imply that you..."

"We've all had to endure the hardships of this," Luke said, his voice firm and deliberate. "Even the children haven't been spared the horrors of character mutilation. But we mustn't loose hope."

"Do you really think things will be alright?" Mara asked, fighting against a sense of apprehension that always seemed to creep upon her whenever they talked about this.

"Tim has given us his word that he'd do everything he could to make things right again. I trust him." Luke gave her shoulders another encouraging squeeze. "And I know you trust him too."

"Yes. I just wish it weren't so difficult, this waiting."

"Well, at least we've had fanfiction to help is make it through," Luke offered in an effort to cheer her. "Remember all the fun we had in Kelly's stories, going to Earth and meeting new family and friends?"

Mara managed a smile. "And speaking of Earth, what about getting to meet our friends Mulder and Scully in the X-Jedi series? We had a great time with them."

"And even the Samizdat project was an interesting diversion," Luke admitted.

"That's true. Heather's always been good to us too." Mara's smile altered just a fraction and she stepped closer, running a finger lazily over Luke's shoulder and down his arm. "I seem to recall some especially good times spent with Darm and Nila, don't you?"

"How could I forget," Luke replied in the low, husky voice he liked to use but only ever got the chance to in a really good fanfiction situation.

Suddenly Mara stiffened, her eyes taking on an icy, emerald glaze. "But even stories by the fans have taken their toll on us."

"Yes. Some of which has even been worse than the published novels," Luke replied with an almost imperceptible shudder. His features took on a hard edge. "I still maintain I've never worn blue boxer shorts in my entire life."

Silence held between them for a moment. Mara finally sighed, resting her head against Luke's shoulder. "I'm just tired," she acknowledged. "Tired of all this literary misuse and abuse."

Luke quietly held her, stroking her hair, offering what comfort he could. "I know. It wouldn't be so bad if the authors realized they were under the influence of the Dark Side of Novelization. I fear some are already lost forever."

"And we've struggled for so long with only Zahn, a Light Side Writer, to defend us," Mara added.

"But in recent months, Stackpole has joined our ranks. Even if we don't play a major role in his stories, he's bringing some semblance of good writing to our galaxy again. Don't give up, Mara."

"Do you think it will ever end?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

They both knew there had been a time when it was understood that it might end. So they had endured, knowing Zahn would have the last word. They'd found strength in that. But lately there had been rumors. It seemed there might always be reason to dread the future, to dread what might next find its way onto public bookshelves.

"I don't know," Luke replied. "But we may still have one hope."

Mara looked up at him, not understanding.

"In the end, it's the fans who will have the last word. The faithful ones. The ones who adore us, and know us, but who also have a real life on the side. They will decide which books and which fanfiction pieces are worthy. They will continue to ridicule and tear apart the works that are nothing but trash. And they will continue to write us in ways that we can be proud to call ourselves GFFA characters. In particular, our friends at Club Jade have done much to aid us in this fight. I believe we can count on them in the future, no matter what lies ahead."

Mara found she was smiling again. Luke, ever the idealistic optimist. She gave him a quick, appreciative hug.

"Come on, let's get something to eat," Luke suggested. "I'll even cook this time."

"Okay," Mara said, walking towards the exit of the cockpit. "I'm a little hungry, and besides, eating will take up a little more of the waiting time between now and the November release date." Mara paused in the doorway, casting a glance over her shoulder, and flashed her best smile. "Who knows, if we're lucky, maybe someone will write a good piece of fanfiction while we wait."