Author's note: This story is pure fluff; you have been warned.

The Birthday Party

Leia stared morosely into her cup of elderflower tea. It was fine to drink on a relaxing afternoon, but as the beverage of choice to start the day it left something to be desired. Actually, it left a lot to be desired. She'd kill for a cup of kaf, but the meddroids had warned her that kaf would be bad during her pregnancy. She'd have to do some research on the subject; the whole situation was becoming untenable.

The princess looked down at her rounded belly with a smile that was both fond and ironic.

"This is all your fault," she pointed to her mug as she addressed the bulge. Her smile grew more maternal as one twin seemed to stretch before giving her a sharp kick; apparently objecting to her accusation. Leia ran a caressing hand over her belly, in sharp contrast to her words. "Terrific," she informed her children. "I can tell that at least one of you is going to take after your father. I can't count the number of times he's said It's not my fault."

Still smiling, Leia thought she wouldn't object at all if one, or both, of their children took after Han.

After one more dispirited sip of her tea, Leia pushed the mug aside, and pulled her breakfast toward her. The plate was piled high with sweet breads, aven eggs, and large helping of browned tubers. Another plate held slices of a particularly tasty type of bacon Han had picked up from somewhere—Leia had forgotten where. Gods, she was always hungry. She supposed it had to do with eating for three. The meddroids had been concerned about her lack of weight gain the first trimester. She was certainly making up for it now.

Pleased to be through with the constant queasiness that had plagued her during the first few months of pregnancy, Leia enthusiastically speared a forkful of eggs as she perused the flimsy in front of her. She never would have believed the intricacies involved in setting up a new government—or the tedium. The proposal in front of her had to do with inter-planetary messaging systems. Really? Sometimes the princess missed the simplicity of running a Rebellion—then her only goal had been to beat the bad guys, not regulate an entire galaxy.

Lost in thought though she was, Leia didn't miss the stealthy approach of a sleek silver and black pitten as he moved across the counter, intent on the princess's plate of bacon.

"Watch it, you," Leia said sternly.

Spot froze in place, staring at her with unblinking amber-colored eyes.

Leia's brown eyes gazed coolly back. The princess had been a diplomat for too many years to back down; Spot blinked first. Then he seated himself on the counter, wrapping his tail neatly around his front legs. The look in his eyes clearly said you may have caught me this time…

"That's better," she told the pitten approvingly, returning her attention to her flimsy. She took a bite of sweet bread.

With laser-fast speed, Spot extended one paw, spearing a piece of bacon with his claws. Before Leia could react, he popped his prize into his mouth, leapt from the counter, and fled into the other room.

"Hey, you no good, thieving womp-rat!" Leia shouted after the pitten. She thought about chasing him, but decided it wasn't worth the effort. Resigned, she pulled the plate of bacon closer to her, and continued with her meal and her reading.

"You should be nice to him." Han walked into the small kitchen, just closing the fastenings on his shirt, his hair still damp from the shower. He leaned over and kissed his wife on the top of her head. Leia's heart sped up at the sight of him, as it always did. She let her eyes travel up his half-exposed chest and over his throat as she turned her face up for a more thorough kiss.

That accomplished, she asked the obvious question. "Why should I be nice to him? He stole part of my breakfast," she objected with righteous indignation.

"Because it's his birthday tomorrow." Han's hand snaked out and nabbed a piece of bacon from his wife's plate.

"Hey!" Leia swatted at Han's hand, but came nowhere near catching it. Then the full import of what he'd said hit her.

"It's Spot's birthday tomorrow?" she asked him, around another mouthful of egg. "You actually know this for a fact? How?"

On a whim, Han had brought home Spot as a tiny, furry baby not quite a year ago. In that time the pitten had grown from a tiny ball of fur, through a gangly adolescence, and into the sleek, well-fed, shameless creature he was today. The fact that Han actually knew when the pitten's birthday was—and that he remembered it—made Leia's mind boggle.

"They told me when I got him." Han explained as he made himself a cup of kaf and munched thoughtfully on his purloined bacon. "I think we should have a party for him."

Leia nearly choked on her sweet bread. "What?" She stared at her husband in disbelief. "Han, he's a pitten," she said.

"I know that." Han downed a gulp of hot kaf. "But he's a part of our family, and I think his first birthday deserves a party." He slanted a lopsided grin in her direction. "Besides, we need the practice for when the babies have a birthday."

Leia's mouth watered at the scent of Han's kaf. She swallowed hard. "I think I know how to throw a birthday party," she objected. "I don't have to practice with a pitten."

"Yeah, but—" Whatever rationale Han was going to use was cut short by the bleat of his comm. He thumbed the device on. Leia could hear irritated Shyriiwook through the device, but Chewie's voice was too fast and too muffled for her to determine what was being said. From the look on her husband's face, it didn't appear to be good news.

"Kriff," he said succinctly, as he replaced his comm in his pocket.

"What is it?" Leia asked, pushing her empty plate away.

"Remember that run of medical supplies that we were gonna make in a couple of days? We have to do it now. That fever on Chandrila is spreading faster than anybody would have guessed." Han's face was sober. The disease had started out as an innocent irritation, but it had mutated into something far more deadly. Now it was spreading fast and targeting the youngest children on that world.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but I gotta get going." He put his half-finished cup of kaf down on the counter and headed back toward their bedroom.

Leia nodded, equally sober. She knew that this shipment of bacta and vaccines had to get to Chandrila as quickly as possible, but she still hated that Han had to go so soon. She missed him desperately every time he went on a run.

Apparently sensing her discomfort, Spot seemed to appear out of thin air. In one fluid motion, he sailed to the top of the counter, and butted his head into Leia's hand. With a little smile, she obliged the pitten by scratching him between his ears, a place he particularly enjoyed having scratched. And it made her happy, too. She loved the feel of his silky fur under her fingers and to hear the rumbling purr of a contented pitten.

Han reappeared with his travel bag looped over one shoulder; he was just fastening his gun belt around his hips. Involuntarily, Leia felt her eyes travel down to watch him secure the tie around his thigh, and felt a familiar heat travel through her. Watch it, Leia. High blood pressure isn't good for the babies.

"How long do you figure you'll be gone?" she asked him, hoping she didn't sound too pathetic. Gods, she would miss him. Just like she always did.

"It's Chandrila, it'll be quick." Han paused to do some quick mental calculating. "If we get decent departure clearance, we ought to be back by tomorrow afternoon, early evening at the latest." He grinned and waved a hand at the pitten. "Plenty of time for our party."

Han reached over to pet Spot, who purred and preened for his 'father.' Leia smiled at the performance, before she stood to kiss her husband goodbye.

Several breathless minutes later they pulled apart.

"Bye, sweetheart," Han said, turning to go.

"Clear skies, Flyboy."

With open appreciation, Leia watched the sway of Han's hips as he walked away. The door slid shut behind him with a soft thump; Leia just stared at it for a long moment. However, she realized she'd better get going herself. As she retrieved her flimisies, Leia spotted Han's half-finished mug of kaf. It would be criminal to let it go to waste, she thought, as she quickly downed the kaf.

"Don't tell daddy," she said to Spot.

####

Leia yawned as she spooned cooked grains and fruit into her mouth. Her mug of flowery tea sat untouched on the counter. Spot lay on the counter next to the tea, and Leia could have sworn he was scowling. Grains and fruit weren't his favorites—and they were very hard to steal.

"Happy birthday," she said to the pitten, as she yawned again. Spot merely blinked, accepting the salutation as his due.

She never slept well when Han was away, which Leia knew was ridiculous. It was, however, a well-established fact. The princess had never been sure if these bouts of insomnia harkened back to the six nightmare months when Han had been encased in carbonite with his whereabouts unknown, or if it was something much simpler—that she'd grown accustomed to his warm, solid presence next to her in their bed. It was probably a little of both.

Last night's wakefulness, oddly enough, had found her thinking about Han's idea of a birthday party for Spot. It was ridiculous, of course, but Han had seemed sincere. Her husband really loved the little monster—he'd never had a pet before Spot—and, Leia thought, it might actually be fun. It must be the maternal hormones kicking in, she rationalized, that had her thinking this way. That, and she really loved the little furball too.

"So, what do you want for your birthday?" the princess asked Spot, as she polished off her grains. "I'm guessing not hot grains and fruit."

The pitten narrowed his eyes at her.

"Okay, I'm sorry I suggested it," she apologized. Yawning yet again, Leia pulled out her personal planner and checked her schedule.

"It looks like I'm not too busy today; you're in luck." She tipped her head to one side. "Would you like a cake?" she asked him. Her eyes lit up. "I would. I can probably get a cake on the way home." She rubbed her belly, where it appeared both babies were involved in some serious calisthenics. "Maybe I'll get two." Leia rubbed at her tired eyes. "That is if I can stay awake."

Spot had been watching her intently during her monologue. Now he rose to attention and mewled sharply.

"You're right," Leia agreed with the pitten. "This is ridiculous." She got to her feet and set up the cooker for the kaf. "One cup won't do any harm."

Princess and pitten sat in companionable silence as the kaf brewed. When it was done, she filled one mug. She could stop at one. As she cradled the mug in both hands and inhaled the rich scent, she looked at Spot.

"Don't tell daddy."

####

Leia moved slowly down the corridor toward their flat. Her work bag hung from one shoulder as she juggled a carrier bag with two cakes in one hand, and a market bag full of pitten toys in the other. She had to admit she felt a little foolish about the quantity of gifts she'd bought for Spot—and for actually purchasing not one, but two cakes—especially since she hadn't heard from Han. He must have gotten delayed on Chandrila; Leia knew that world was in desperate straits, and that Han would never just leave if he could help. However, it was looking like the birthday celebration would just be her and Spot. This was not how she had planned to spend the evening.

With one free finger, Leia awkwardly keyed in the code for the door. As it slid open, she was nearly overwhelmed by a mélange of the most heavenly scents. She was sure she could discern grilling nerf, tubers, and her favorite breads. Leia wasn't sure, but she thought she might cry.

"Surprise!" Han stepped out of the small kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel, a lovely, crooked grin on his face. Spot followed behind him, looking less cheerful. That was probably due to the red bow tied around his neck. Leia assumed that it was supposed to be on his neck behind his head, but it had slipped around and halfway underneath his chin, making it look like a drunken bowtie.

"You're home," Leia said. Proving your powers of observation are as acute as ever, aren't you?

"We got back a little while ago," Han tossed the towel onto a nearby chair and moved to take the bags from Leia, as he kissed her thoroughly. "I wanted to get home and get the party started." He paused, and seemed to be a little embarrassed—something Han Solo was almost always immune to. "I wasn't sure if you really wanted to do this party thing or not," he explained. "So I figured that if I just set it up…" He let the thought drift away unfinished.

"What do you have in here?" he asked instead, hefting up the carrier bag and looking inside. "Cake?" He looked closer. "Two cakes?"

It was Leia's turn to look uncomfortable. "I was hungry," she said defensively. She sniffed at the odors emanating from the kitchen. She quickly licked her lips as her mouth began to water. "What are you cooking? It smells wonderful."

"Nerf steak. I thought the little guy would like it." He slanted a smile at her. "I thought you might like it, too," he added. Setting the cakes down on a nearby table, Han rummaged in the other bag. "Toys. You bought pitten toys." His smile broadened to a grin. "So, you want to party too!" His glee was infectious, Leia grinned back.

"Well, I started thinking about it, and I thought it might be fun." Leia paused to kick off her shoes and drop her workbag on the floor. "Besides, you were right. This is our family right now, we might as well celebrate it." She popped up on her toes to kiss her husband on the cheek. Then she bent down to pick up Spot and straighten his bow, scratching him behind his ears. She sniffed the air one more time.

"Let's go eat," she suggested. "I'm—"

"Starved. I know."