Baking

(Set in 16 ABY.)

The kitchen was spacious, modern, and currently bearing a remarkable resemblance to a battlefield. An unusually tasty, sweet battlefield, but the more Winter thought about it, the more apt the comparison seemed. Granted, they were supposedly engaged in creating, rather than destroying, but in all honesty, it was hard to tell.

"Don't play with the dough, Jaina," she said. "It's food, not a toy, remember?"

Across the table, Jaina looked up. She was liberally dusted with flour, a smear of dough across her forehead and nose. Beside her, Jacen looked much the same, only with tangled hair to add more chaos to the picture. Not that, Winter thought, the Solo home really needed more chaos.

"I'm not playing!" Jaina said earnestly. "I'm baking. Look, I'm making an X-Wing!"

She held up a fistful of dough. Bits of it fell off in the process, landing in the flour that covered the table's worktop – and all three Solo children. Jaina scowled. "Port S-foils fell off. Hold on."

Winter didn't see what happened to the S-foils because another voice sought her attention. "Winter?"

Anakin was sitting across the corner from her, holding a cookie cutter in his hand and looking slightly puzzled. "I can't fit any more."

She looked down at Anakin's stretch of dough. He had carefully cut and lifted out a variety of shapes, but no matter how much they interlocked and fit together, there was still dough left. Of course there was still dough left. That was the point.

"Then you gather it all up and squish it together," Winter said. "And roll it back out and go again. Remember how you did it last time?"

"Yeah." Anakin frowned at the dough. "Not a good shape," he declared. "Need to try something else." He looked back up at her, ice blue eyes intent. "Will you do it, please?"

She nodded and scooped the dough remnants off the table, reflecting that for a six-year-old with cookie cutters, Anakin had done a remarkable job fitting them together to use as much dough as possible. Like with most things, he'd found his own unique angle on baking, too.

Unlike his siblings. Winter showed Anakin how to reform the dough while keeping most of her attention on the twins.

"That's not an X-Wing," Jacen proclaimed, casting a critical look down at his sister's creation. He was kneeling on his chair, the better to reach across the worktop and steal cookie cutters from Anakin. "It doesn't look like one at all."

"Does too," Jaina retorted.

"No it doesn't." Jacen poked it.

"Pfft," Jaina said. "You don't even know what an X-Wing looks like."

"Yeah I do!" Jacen was indignant. "They look different. Yours looks way too lumpy."

"You look lumpy," Jaina said immediately. That was the Wes Janson method of arguing, newly introduced by the very same only two weeks prior, and seized by all three kids with unerring instinct for such things.

"'least my cookies don't," Jacen shot back.

As an answer, Jaina took a lump of cookie dough and squashed it onto whatever Jacen had been making. "Now they do." She laughed, the edgy giggle that both twins used when they had just done something wrong, and were surprised and terrified at their own daring. And more than a bit guilty.

"Jaina!" Jacen yelled, and then he immediately looked over at Winter, brown eyes wide in victim's appeal. "Winter, she ruined all my cookies!"

"I saw," Winter said, giving silent thanks that at least Jacen had opted for "telling" instead of retaliation; there was no way she could have got there in time to stop it, and she didn't much fancy being caught in a full-blown food fight. She put down Anakin's cookie dough and found her reprimand voice. "Jaina?"

"He started it," Jaina said, her voice sullen. But she was looking down at the table, poking at little bits of dough as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

"It doesn't matter who started it," Winter said. She had learned long ago that yelling and getting involved would get you absolutely nowhere – in fact, it would make matters worse. She had learned that long before she'd ever looked after children herself. And so, she avoided it like Tycho avoided head-on shootouts in simulations. "Would you like it if Jacen destroyed your cookies?"

"He started it," Jaina repeated. Jacen was silent, watching, clever enough to know that retorting now would not help his own case. Not that it would do much good – he was next. Jaina's reaction had been more out of proportion than usual this time, but Jacen wasn't entirely innocent, either. She'd talk to him about goading his sister when she was finished with Jaina. It was best to take these things one at a time.

"Jaina. Would you like it if Jacen destroyed your cookies?"

The answer, when it came, was quiet. "No."

"No. You guys had an argument, and that happens. But when you run out of things to say, you don't start hurting people, you start resolving the argument."

"But—"

"No but," Winter said firmly. "You can't go around destroying things just because someone said something you didn't like. Especially not if you're going to be a Jedi. Do you know anybody who'd do that?"

There were tears in Jaina's eyes now. "But he said – but I don't – " She struggled down from her chair. "I'm not bad!"

"Of course you're not," Winter said. "But doing something to hurt Jacen doesn't solve the argument, does it?"

Jaina stopped halfway to the door, face reddening as the tears began to fall. Winter had to remind herself to stay seated, to give Jaina the time she needed to accept that she'd done wrong before she tried to comfort the girl. Sympathy or no, it was always better to let these things run their course. "But I didn't wanna hurt Jacen!" Jaina yelled.

"She didn't really," Jacen said quickly. Winter covered her surprise as he unfolded himself to slide down to the floor and go after his sister. "You didn't really, Jaya."

"I just got mad," Jaina said, sniffing.

Jacen glanced back up at Winter, the look on his face almost an exact replica of the one Han wore when trying to make amends with someone – usually Leia. "It was kinda my fault," he said. "I provoked her."

Winter couldn't quite prevent her eyebrows from lifting. "Destroying your cookies still wasn't right," she said. "But maybe we can solve it instead now, do you think? Jaina?"

Jaina pressed her lips together and nodded, still sniffing occasionally.

"Well, how about you help Jacen make new cookies?" Winter asked. "And Jacen, why don't you try to help Jaina with her X-Wing, maybe you can get it right together?"

The twins resumed their seats, Jacen seeming almost as relieved as Jaina. It was one of the unique challenges that they presented; it seemed rare enough that they would voluntarily share the punishment on the rare occasion that only one of them got in trouble. Standing up for each other during the repercussions of a fight between them – that was definitely not standard sibling behaviour. But Winter knew that the bond they shared was close. Close enough that Jacen had probably felt his sister's discomfort, and her despair at the thought of hurting him, and no amount of triumph at being in the right for once – at least sort of – seemed to make up for that.

She watched them across the table, chattering as they now worked together. Jaina's face was still tear-stained and slightly red, but she laughed while Jacen made up some kind of story featuring – apparently – dancing cookie cutters and a lot of flour. Winter reminded them not to play with the dough, and turned back to Anakin, who had waited out the entire exchange with that intense interest that most people mistook for patience.

They had put the cookies into the oven to bake and Winter was just filling the icing into icing guns when the door opened.

"Stay in the kitchen!" Winter called before the kids could run out into the hall. "You're covered in flour!"

"Sounds like a productive day," came a familiar voice, and Han Solo strode through the kitchen door. He was not, as usual, accompanied by Chewbacca; the Wookiee avoided baking day whenever he possibly could.

There was a chorus of "Hi Daddy!" and the twins jumped out of their seats to run at their father.

"I made letter cookies!" Jacen said. "I made a H for you!"

"I made the Falcon!" Jaina spoke so quickly after Jacen that it almost sounded like the same child. "And Jacen and I made an X-Wing, too!"

Han winked at Winter and grinned down at his kids. "Wow! Well, I bet Tycho'll be happy to hear that." He half-turned to call over his shoulder, uniform already dusted with flour. "Come on in. It's not any worse than Janson's aftermaths."

Moments later, Tycho Celchu came into view, wearing an amused half-smile as he took in the chaos in the kitchen. "You know, "it's no worse than Janson" is not how you usually go about reassuring someone." His eyes found Winter, standing by the table, and his smile grew wider. "But X-Wing cookies sound good. Hi, sweetheart."

"Hey, you." She put down the mixer and went over to kiss him on the cheek. "I wasn't expecting you for another hour. What happened?"

Han and Tycho exchanged a long-suffering look. Han reached up to rub the back of his neck and gave her a wry look. "Janson happened," he said. He glanced at his kids. "Long story. Anyway, most of us were sent home early while they, ah, fix things."

"What did Janson do?" Anakin asked with blue-eyed interest.

Han gave his son a wide-eyed look and pointed a finger at him like a blaster. "Military secret. My boss won't like it if I tell you."

Winter smiled at Han's reluctance to go into detail in front of his kids. They loved hearing about Janson's pranks; unfortunately, they also loved replicating the doable ones. Apparently, this one was doable, in Han's opinion – which tended to be more reliable than Leia's. Even after seven years, Leia still underestimated her children's resourcefulness. Part of it, Winter knew, was that the Princess simply couldn't imagine kids doing things like that, because she never had. Han, on the other hand, didn't seem to need to imagine.

"But Mom's your boss!" Jacen said. "Isn't she?"

"Sort of. That doesn't mean she'd like it if I told you." Han looked around. "Real question is, what did you do? It looks much worse in here than at work!"

"We made cookies!" Anakin said, as if insulted that Han even had to ask that.

"You can get to help us with the icing!" Jaina said, beaming at Han. "You can tell me how to do the Falcon properly!"

When Winter took out the trays with the finished cookies, she was already bracing herself for the inevitable disappointment that always accompanied the final results. Cookie dough always rose, distorting the shapes the children had made so carefully, and no amount of effort could prevent it. Fortunately, the fact that the swollen-up shapes could be iced and eaten always overrode the disappointment.

"Oh," Jaina said when Winter carefully scooped the cookies out onto the cooling racks. "Oh, no. It broke!" Her small face was solemn as she regarded her carefully made rendition of the Millennium Falcon, a wide crack running through the middle where the dough had ruptured.

"I guess Lando was flying it," Han said, to catch Jaina's mood before it fell. "Never mind, sweetie. We'll fix it up, okay? All you need it some engine tape and spare parts, see?" He brandished the icing gun, and Jaina's face brightened again.

While Han and Jaina fixed the Falcon, Tycho showed Jacen and Anakin how to make X-Wing cannons out of sugar sticks; after last week's attempt, Winter had convinced the twins that it would be better to add those afterwards. And suddenly, she was left with nothing to do except hand out candies for decorating. Anakin had managed to claim Tycho's lap, Jacen was sprawled halfway across the table as usual, and Jaina hunkered beside her father, eyes bright.

Winter smiled. It was chaotic, it was messy, it was unmistakably Solo – but it was also entirely adorable. Her thoughts went immediately to Leia, probably still stuck in a Senate meeting. The princess would want to see this.

She handed Tycho the candy bowl and went into the hallway to find the holorecorder.

On her way back, she came to an abrupt stop in the doorway. Jaina was lying on the table, giggling uncontrollably as Han rolled her back and forth like they had done to the dough only half an hour before. Someone – Tycho, Winter assumed – had saved both cookies and candy bowl and placed them on the counter. The blond pilot was leaning against the counter across the kitchen from her, watching the chaos with the expression of someone used to it. He caught her eye, grinned, and gave an encouraging nod at the holorecorder. Grinning back, Winter pressed the "record" button; this was even better than just stills.

Anakin stood on the chair that Tycho had left, bouncing on his feet and laughing while Han took cookie cutters and poked Jaina with them.

"Use the flower one!"

Han grinned at his youngest son and obeyed. "Right then, I guess we're about done – off into the oven with you!"

Jaina screeched and tried to escape, her face lit up by her laughter and covered in flour and smears of icing. As Winter watched, Jacen clambered up onto the table, avoided his sister's flailing legs as he made his way over to Han. Too late, Winter realised what the boy was holding in his hands.

Han yelled in comic outrage as Jacen emptied the flour container over his head and right shoulder. Flour clouded into the air, and Winter held her breath, instinctively waiting for the cheerful atmosphere to turn once again into chagrin, as it usually did when the kids' enthusiasm went that bit too far.

But the Han Solo approach to parenting was very different from Winter's and Leia's. Rather than call a stop, Han grabbed hold of Jacen and ruffled the boy's hair with a flour-covered hand.

"I think someone else wants to go in the oven!"

Jacen squealed as he was dumped on the table and first rolled around, then mercilessly tickled. Winter was never quite sure how he managed to balance boisterous playing with responsible parenting, but somehow, it never seemed to end in tears as someone got carried away. It was not something she could have managed; but then, it was not how she had been raised. She and Leia were the quiet discipline and Han and Chewbacca were – well, the exact opposite. It should have confused the kids, but somehow, like most Solo operations, it worked.

Han scooped Jacen back up, swung him around until the giggles subsided a bit, and grinned down at his eldest son. "I think it's bath time, what do you reckon?"

"You're dirtier!"

Han laughed and pretended to glare. "Hey, you dumped flour on me, kid. You can't use that against me."

"Daddy looks old!" Anakin crowed. "Hair's all white!"

"Like a grandpa!" added Jaina, who only knew grandfathers from stories and holofilms.

Han narrowed his eyes. "Don't you get any wrong ideas, young lady."

Jacen twisted his head to look at Winter. "Hey! Are you gonna take holos?"

Winter glanced down at the device in her hands and smiled. "Actually, I've just stopped recording," she said.

Tycho burst out laughing at the kids' surprised expressions. "That's one for the family archives, I'll bet."

Han was laughing, too. "Perfect. I'll have to send Luke a copy." He sobered slightly and looked down at his children. "You guys are filthy. Come on, off to the bath with you."

"And you!" Jacen insisted.

Han shook his head. "You first." He raised his eyebrows when Jacen was about to object. "So I don't have to start all over again if you decide to throw water at me."

"But water's clean!" Jaina said.

"And you're not," Han said, somehow turning the argument while ignoring most of it. "So I guess you'd better get into it, huh? Come on!"

Jacen had no choice, of course, still caught in Han's arms, but Jaina and Anakin fell into line behind their father as he strode out of the kitchen.

"I'll be back once I get these guys into the bath," he told Winter. "That all right?"

Winter nodded, pleasantly surprised at having her day's duties cut short. "That's fine. I'll finish up in here."

She heard Jaina's voice, insistent in the hallway, and could just imagine her tugging at her father's shirt: "But Daddy? Lando doesn't get any cookies, right? 'Cause he crashed the Falcon again!"

And Han, sounding smug: "No, sweetie. No cookies for Lando. Serves him right."