Han had been looking for tools, hoping he could come up with some sort of home improvement project to keep him busy. His Millennium Falcon drone was late arriving, and he desperately needed to keep his hands busy waiting for it to ship.
With a canvas bag of tools, rubber cement, and vices slung over his shoulder, he whistled his way down the street, and stopped at the café, at his wife, in black, hair unbraided, and—a lightsaber attached to her belt. "Uh, Leia? This is a new look," he commented, taking the seat across from her.