Hello everyone!

So this is a very short one-shot that popped into my head. Actually, the Jag/Han part popped into my head, but the rest of it followed soon after. Anyways, I'm not entirely sure when this is set in the timeline. It is merely a short snippet of a scenario that I hope will come to pass since I love Jaina/Jag and I would hate to see them with anyone else.

I hope you enjoy it, and please leave a review!

Disclaimer: I honestly don't want to insult anyone's intelligence, but just in case anyone was wondering, I'm not George Lucas.

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"You're never touching me again!" Jaina screeched as she squeezed the life out of his poor hand. Jag was tending to agree with her at the moment—partially because he hated seeing her in so much pain and partially because he would only have one hand left after this ordeal.

And, personally, Jag rather liked having hands.

"You're almost there, love," he encouraged, rubbing her back soothingly with the hand that wasn't suffering from her vice-grip. "Just a few more pushes, and you'll be done."

Jaina merely grunted in response, then screamed as she pushed forward again. Jag caught a droid rolling by and whispered softly, "Where are her pain medications?"

Unfortunately, the droid did not have a whisper setting, and announced the answer to the entire room full of doctors. "Knight Solo has already taken the maximum amount of drugs allowed for her bodyweight. We cannot administer more until the child is born."

"Great," Jaina growled, "just what I needed to hear."

"Push," commanded the doctor at the end of the bed. Jag prepared to lose more sensation from his fingers. Unfortunately, he was not disappointed.

"One more push," the doctor encouraged, "the shoulders are already out."

Jag supported her shoulders, and Jaina screamed as she gave one final shove.

Immediately the high wails of a baby were heard. Jaina sagged against him in relief, clutching his hand less desperately than before. Jag silently thanked the Force for the blood-flow that was returning to his fingers as he tracked the baby across the room. He watched as the doctors handed her off to each other until one stopped at a sink and began sponging the baby off.

Mere moments later a neatly wrapped bundle was put into Jag's arms.

The first thing he saw was a tuft of black hair peeking out from under the blanket. Then he looked down into her face, her beautiful, sweet, innocent face, and found that she was staring up at him with big eyes. They were still a cloudy blue. Jag was suddenly impatient, wanting to know what color her eyes would be. He desperately hoped that they would be the wonderful caf color of Jaina's eyes.

He looked down at Jaina and grinned. Then he bent to lay their baby into her arms and softly kissed both of their foreheads. Jaina smiled through her exhaustion, and he knew that she could feel his elation.

Jaina looked down at the baby and reached a hand up, playing with her tuft of hair. His daughter's eyes closed lazily at the touch and she fell asleep against her mother's chest.

"Jag," Jaina whispered, not looking away from the bundle in her arms, "We have a little girl."

He could hear the happiness in her voice. He could feel it in his own bones—although he thought that may have been due to the fact that he was nearly bursting with happiness himself.

And admiration.

And an intense need to punch all of the male doctors in the room for being within ten feet of his beautiful daughter.

Jag resisted that urge, but he realized with dread that he would have to have an uncomfortable chat with Han Solo soon. Speaking of which, both sets of grandparents were waiting just outside, along with a few aunties, uncles, and cousins who were eager to meet the new addition to the Fel-Solo families.

But, for the moment, he was content to simply stare at his beautiful baby girl and marvel at the fact that he and Jaina had made this perfect creature.

xxxxx

"Sir," Jag said, standing in as relaxed a posture as he could manage with his feet shoulder-width apart, his hands clasped behind his back, and inclining his head politely. Somehow he still looked as though he was giving a formal salute. Han chalked it up to his unnaturally perfect posture.

"Fel," Han said, wondering why his son-in-law was here, instead of at home with his wife and new daughter. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Did you want to have another round of celebratory drinks?"

"No, sir. I came to apologize, sir."

"Drop the sir, kid. You're making me feel as old as I am."

"Sorry, si—Han."

Han hid his smirk by turning to the bar and pouring two glasses of Whreyn's finest. "Well, then, what were you trying to apologize for? I have to admit you've got me confused."

Jag cleared his throat and looked Han in the eye. "I came to apologize for stealing Jaina's heart, sir. You may punch me if you like."

Han stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. He clapped the younger man on the back before handing him his glass of whiskey. Han had to give the man credit—Jag had come without Jaina, which meant he was actually serious about this offer. Han had to admit it was tempting. Ten years ago—hell, ten minutes ago—he would have taken Jag up on that offer.

"The baby girl got to you, did she? Well kid, thanks for the offer, but no."

"No?"

"No. With that beautiful baby girl you've got, you're going to get it back tenfold soon enough. Just wait until some flyboy comes knocking at your door asking to take your daughter to dinner."

Jag paled visibly. "I think I would rather you punched me now, sir."

Han laughed and guided him to the couch. "I don't blame you, kid. And I told you to stop calling me sir."

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I hope you liked it! Please review : )