Worst Vacation Ever

A StarWars Fan Fiction

Author's note: I should explain... I started this story as a gift for a friend who was having a bad day. It was supposed to be a one-shot, never-to-be-posted, piece of fluff. However, it seems that I am constitutionally unable to write a one-shot, and said friend really wanted me to post it. So, here it is. At least it's still fluffy. Oh, and I gleefully own all of the mistakes-grammatical or otherwise!

Chapter One

With the consummate skill only an experienced mother has, Leia Organa-Solo deftly caught the cup her three year old son, Anakin, was trying to throw on the floor. She managed this feat one-handed, since she was scrolling down her upcoming appointments on her personal planner with the other. At the other end of the small kitchen, her husband was supervising their five year old son Jacen, as he washed his breakfast off his face and hands at the sink. In the midst of all the activity, Jaina Solo sat at the table, spooning cereal into her mouth and reading a story on her datapad. Just an ordinary morning at the Solo residence.

It was all good until Han's comm beeped for attention.

"Whoever you are," he began, handing a towel to Jacen, "I hope you fry in the he—" He froze midword when he saw Jaina's bright eyes focused on him. "—in the cooker," he concluded.

Across the room, Leia snorted.

"Solo," he barked into the device. A blast of excited shyriiwook exploded from the comm. Han pulled it away from his head. Every other Solo in the room turned to look at the sound.

"Uncle Chewie!" Anakin crowed with delight from his high chair.

At that moment Han could only be grateful that his children were not yet fluent in Wookiee-speak, because 'Uncle Chewie' was using some pretty colorful language.

"Oh, my!" Threepio commented from the other room.

"Can it, Goldenrod!" Han called out, more out of habit than anything. "Tone it down, will ya?" he continued, speaking to Chewbacca over the comm, everyone can hear you. There are kids here."

The Wookiee's growls and moans lowered a few decibels.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that, furball," Han said. "They're pretty smart kids." Paternal pride aside, Han was a little suspicious of how much his children were able to understand—some of the looks they got on their faces—they were pretty smart kids. And then there was that whole Force thing.

There were a few more snarls and moans from the comm.

"Twelve-hundred. I told you we'd be there at twelve-hundred." Han rolled his eyes heavenward. "Don't get so excited, we're not going to be late. We're already packed and Leia's last appointment is at…"

"Ten-thirty," his wife mouthed at him.

"Ten-thirty," Han continued smoothly. "We'll be ready to lift by twelve-thirty, I guarantee it." He paused to listen. "You got it, buddy," Han agreed, glancing over at his wife, who was now talking into her comm. "I'm really looking forward to this trip, too." He cut the connection.

"…just want to let you know that this afternoon the children will be picked up by their uncle, Luke Skywalker." Leia tapped her foot impatiently as she listened to the voice on the other end. "That's right, he's their uncle," she said again. "Yes, he has my permission, he's my brother!"

This time Han, busy freeing Anakin from his high chair, let out a snort. Leia made a face at him as she disconnected.

"I think we've got everything covered," she said as she herded the twins toward their backpacks and the door. "Luke will pick up the twins after they're finished with school this afternoon. He and Mara will watch them while we're away." She looked over at Han, who was wiping down their youngest with a damp cloth. "I'll take Anakin with me to the office; Winter can pick him up there."

"Do you really think it's a good idea to let Winter and Tycho take care of him?" Han asked her.

"It can't be any worse than when you left the twins with Luke, Chewie and Threepio, can it?" she asked in reply. A soft smile wiped some of the stress from her face. "Besides, I think they're kind of looking forward to it. And looking forward to when they have their own."

"Yeah, but what if it sends Tycho off screaming?"

Leia merely rolled her eyes as Han finished getting Anakin into his jacket. "Grab his bag for me, will you?"

Han handed over the carryall filled with the small boy's clothes, toys, and favorite whubby. "Are you sure you can you manage all this and get the older ones to school?" he asked her.

"I ran a rebellion; I think I can manage three kids," she replied tartly.

"Fine, your Worship, fine! You two," he said addressing the twins, "you be good for Uncle Luke and Aunt Mara, understand?"

"But we're always good, daddy," Jaina said, with as much dignity as the five year old could muster. Her twin nodded solemnly.

"Poor Luke," Leia observed, without the least bit of sympathy.

Han gave each child a warm hug.

"And you," Han reached down and picked up Anakin. "You're going to be really nice and good for Auntie Winter, right kid?" He kissed his son on his pudgy cheek and handed him over to Leia.

"I'll see you at twelve-hundred," he said, now kissing his wife—and definitely not on her cheek. "And please don't be late. Chewie is so worked up over his trip to Kashyyyk, I'm afraid if we don't get off on time he'll rip my arms off, life-debt or not!"

"I won't be late," she assured him. A banging noise had her stepping out into the hallway. "Jaina! Stop poking the lift buttons!" She and Anakin hurried after the twins. "I really need this vacation!" she called back to Han.

"Me too!" he assured her.