Disclaimer: We don't own anything, anyone, any families, any Santas, anything related to Star Wars, anything related to Christmas… well, apart from MistyRiver's wheelbarrow that she got from Santa! SD04 got coal. Which MistyRiver can steal in her wheelbarrow! OK, uh… basically, we own nothing. Except a wheelbarrow and a piece of coal!

A.N. Our first fanfic together (meep!) and probably our last… it's also quite likely to be a complete disaster, but, hey, what ya gonna do. Well… you could always review, hint, hint! So, on with the show!

'Twas the night before Christmas...

Santa Solo

"Well, I'm not going to fit into a suit with this belly!"

"But…. I'm too tall!"

"Who ever said Santa was tiny? And he's a man! Maybe his elves are tiny, but there's no description of Santa being that small!"

"Elves, eh?"

It was Christmas Eve and Han Solo and Leia Organa-Solo were debating who was going to be Santa for their one-and-a-half-year-old kids. Both were determined not to have to wear the suit.

"Do we really need to wear the suit? The kids'll surely be in bed."

Leia shook her head sadly. "Ah, but Han, my dear, these are Solo kids. Disaster around every corner."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Leia replied wryly, "that they've got my brains and your mischievousness. Basically, they're smart enough to know how to annoy the heck out of us. They know it's Christmas Eve. They'll be expecting Santa to come, and they'll stop at nothing to catch a glimpse of him, I assure you."

"Point taken. But who's gonna dress up?"

Leia sighed. That man just never learned. "You are, my dear."

Han started sulking. "Aw, but sweetheart, I don't want to!"

Leia cocked her eyebrow and gave him a look that just seemed to ask, well, why not? with a slight air of danger.

Han looked away. "But… okay, well… give me one reason why I have to be Santa."

"One: you're a man. As is Santa. I, funnily enough, am not. You want another reason?"

Han was being beaten, but he refused to go without a fight. "Well, if you have one, then why not!"

"Two: I'm pregnant. It'll be a lot easier for you to pull off that Santa suit without belly that's nearly the same size as the rest of your body. Consider the fact I'm short!"

"Well…" Han trailed off nervously. "I'm not going in there without backup. What can you do?"

Leia laughed. "Who said I was doing anything?" Han looked at her, putting on his best 'oh, I'm so innocent' look that his children had inherited. She faltered. "Well, what can you suggest?"

Han's eyes lit up. "Well, you did say elves were short…"

…

One minute before midnight on Christmas Eve…

"I can't believe you talked me into this," Leia whispered harshly, looking anywhere but Han. They were sneaking along the hall towards the lounge where the children had hung their stockings. She was wearing a cute little green get-up… green tights, short green dress, green hat… and Han had used her brightest, reddest lipstick to paint on some little red cheeks. Thoroughly ridiculous, she thought, but Han couldn't be more pleased with his make-up job. Of course, she had persuaded him that Santa needed red cheeks too, but still… she had also dumped half the kitchen supply of flour in his hair and when she was tying on his beard, she couldn't resist twanging the elastic against his face. So now his whole face was red, not just his cheeks. And, man, this suit was warm. Leia had eventually reminded him that Santa was supposed to be fat, and she had padded the already-too-thick suit out with bedclothes. Then there was the bag he was carrying over his shoulder. Why did kids just want, want, want? This was only what had been stated in two Christmas letters… he was starting to panic about what he would do when the third child was born… that'd be three letters!

So, here were two fully grown adults, acting… like… well, kids! Han was almost wondering whether he should take a holo-pic of Leia to send to the other Senators!

They reached the door of the lounge, which Leia opened quietly, poking her head inside and looking around cautiously. Seeing that the twins were nowhere to be found, she beckoned to Han to follow her in. She had just reached the stockings when she heard a crunch and a loud "Oof!" Fearing the worst, she spun around to find Han staring at her with wide, scared eyes. The sack was stuck in the door. Stuck. Only a man… Leia thought sarcastically, rolling her eyes. She darted over to help him, and after a bit of tugging and pulling, they eventually pulled the bag free. Man, this can't be good for the baby… Leia thought woozily, rubbing her head. After a while, they got the bag dragged over to the mantle piece and started unloading the toys. Cuddly Bantha, Model Lightsabre, Mini-Millennium Falcon… well, that ship had become quite famous by now!... etc., etc. They just went on and on and on and on and on and… on and on and on… the sack was like a bottomless pit! They were just separating the toys into the correct stockings when they heard two childish voices yell… "FREEZE! Turn awound wit yor hands up!"

Han and Leia looked at each other and simultaneously turned around with their hands above their heads to face their children, and a toy blaster pointed directly at them. Hang on… that was no toy Jaina was holding!

Jacen looked at the two of them with an air of contempt. He noticed the 'elf's' bulging stomach. "Hey," he cried, "why is the elf so fat?"

Leia was highly offended. "I'm pregnant, actually."

Jaina was mystified. "How'd you do that?"

Leia glanced at Han. "Uh… well…"

Han intervened helpfully. "Well, when a man and a woman love each other very much…"

"Like me an Jacen!" Jaina cried, throwing her hands in the air, then steadying the blaster on them again.

"Er… not quite…" Han paused, then picked up where he had left off, "Or they get very, very drunk…"

He was interrupted again. "Like you's gonna be in a minute!" Jacen yelled evilly.

"Uh… right." Han was getting a little scared of his children now. Again, he carried on what he had started. "Or they decide to have what we adults call a 'one-night-stand…'"

It was too much for Leia. She gave Han a kick in the shins. "Shut up, Ha- I mean, Santa!"

"What, dear?"

Leia was staring blaster bolts at him "They're too young to discover the facts of life!"

"But we already know!" The twins said together.

"What? Who told you?" Han and Leia stared at them in disbelief, waiting for an answer.

"Daddy!"

"Oh…" Leia looked at Han, smiling. "Daddy told you, did he? Well, be happy your mummy doesn't know… she might get very cross!"

Han took her meaning.

"Okay. Santa," said Jacen with an air of command, "dwink." He pointed at the small shot glass (filled to the brim, mind you…) sitting on the fireplace. Han shuffled across slowly and lifted the drink to his lips, giving it a sniff first. It smelled like… brandy! How in the world did his kids get alcohol?

Downing it in one gulp, he felt it burn the back of his throat, and before it reached his gullet, he realised that this was no ordinary brandy… it was Thikkiian brandy! No reason to worry, it was only one of the most potent Wookiee drinks in the galaxy! Han's head started to spin. I'm going to have one heck of a hangover tomorrow… he thought blearily as he sank to the ground drooling. At least it was only one shot-glass…

"More!" Jacen pulled a bottle of the stuff from behind his back. "Santa dwink more, aw Santa be sowwy," he grinned maliciously.

Han was confused. "How did you kids get this stuff, anyway?"

"Uncie Chewie!" They cried in unison.

Oh. I should have known.

Han staggered over, clutching the shot-glass. "No," Jacen said impatiently, "Santa dwink out of this," he continued, holding out the bottle. Han's pupils shrank, then grew, then shrank, then, grew, and continued like that for a little while. When his eyes calmed down enough for him to see the bottle, he grabbed it from his son, eyeing the blaster Jaina was still holding. He only hoped it wasn't full… unlike this bottle. He lifted the bottle to his mouth, knowing he wouldn't be able to see straight for a week…

…

After Han had drunk the whole bottle of Wookiee brew, he couldn't see anything, let alone his children.

But they weren't about to quit and leave Han and Leia alone to put out the presents.

"Santa, aren't you supposed to come down the chimney?" They asked with the utmost innocence.

"Yes, of course," Han mumbled, sounding distant, and his words were badly slurred. He never even stopped to consider what these toddlers would make him do next.

"Well, why didn't you come down it then? You should do it wight!"

Han gaped at the part of the room he thought they were. This just happened to be about three metres to the left of them. Leia held her head in her hands, knowing no good would come of this.

"Well? Whaddaya waiting faw? Get up there!"

…

A few minutes later, Han found himself on the roof of the house, beside the chimney. He had no recollection of actually going up there, though, which scared him slightly. He heard two voices calling up the chimney to him.

"Come down the chimney, Santa! Huwwy up!"

Han sighed. The brandy meant he could barely understand Basic- even his own thoughts were blurred. But he was sure of the fact that, at some point of time not to far away, he was going to black out- and that wouldn't be pretty. Well, so was the reputation of Wookiee alcohol! He dragged himself over to the top of the chimney. Well, it seemed wide enough to fit through- although he couldn't actually see it clearly- but his leg found its way through the top and he tried to wriggle the rest of his body through. Oh no, he thought suddenly, what if they light a fire? He stopped and listened as hard as his alcohol-affected eardrums would allow. Well, it didn't seem to be getting any hotter… and he couldn't hear anything except those two annoying little voices chanting "San-ta! San-ta! San-ta!" Well, he might as well give it a try. He wiggled, and wiggled, and wiggled until he was halfway down and could wiggle no more. "I'm coming, kids!" He cried blearily. The darkness of the chimney around him seemed to be seeping through him, consuming his brain… darkness, everything was turning black… and, with a last dribble, Han Solo slipped into unconsciousness.

…

The next morning…

Leia looked down at the newspaper in front of her. Wow, news really travels fast… she thought savagely. The headline read: 'SANTA SOLO GETS STUCK IN THE CHIMNEY OF HIS OWN HOME!'

The papers were having a field day. After realising Han couldn't get out of the chimney if left to his own resources, Leia had sent a message to the Emergency Services. They had arrived within a few minutes, and they had news reporters trailing along behind them. After nearly an hour of pulling, pushing, winching, and almost knocking down the chimney, they had finally dragged Han out from his sooty prison. He was now lying in his bunk, snoring the house down, and Leia knew that when he woke up he wouldn't remember a thing. Well, maybe it was for the best. Perhaps, just perhaps, I can persuade him to be Santa again next year, she thought as she folded the newspaper up.

A.N. Well, whaddaya think? Sounds like fun, eh? We are aware that there's probably no such thing as Christmas- or Santa, for that matter- in the Star Wars galaxy, but, heck, it's our story and we'll do what we like with it! PLEASE R&R, it's the only thing that keeps us alive! Next chapter will be up a.s.a.p., which may take a few years, but thanks for reading!

Sweetdeath04 and MistyRiver