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Jessika was getting really, really tired of this.
If you’d only heard them talking to each other like this once or twice, you might not think anything of it—most of what they said was perfectly innocent, after all. But Jessika hadn’t only heard them say these things once or twice—she’d heard them do this hundreds of times. And it was beginning to get on her nerves.
“Nice shot, Finn!” Poe called over his shoulder, piloting the starfighter in and out of the line of fire. “That was incredible!”
“I wouldn’t have been able to do it if you hadn’t lined me up so well,” Finn replied.
“Maybe—but I wouldn’t have been able to line you up if you hadn’t taken out that turret.”
“I wouldn’t have been able to do that, either, if you weren’t the best pilot in the galaxy.”
“Well, you’re the best gunner in the galaxy.”
“Am not.”
“Are too. If I really am the best pilot, then I’d know.”
This was why Jessika hated tagging along with these two.
The way Poe and Finn complimented each other was different from the way that, say, Rey and Finn did, or Poe and some of the other pilots in their squadrons. Generally, Jessika thought that encouragement was good, and that it was hard to have too much of a good thing, but in the case of Finn and Poe she could make an exception. She’d seen them do this whole praising routine during stealth missions, where talking was the opposite of being safe and supportive. They just couldn’t stop.
And then there were the dopey expressions they’d get while firing off compliments. Finn would grin like he’d just been given a dusty First Order birth certificate revealing that today was his birthday. Poe, on the other hand, would get this silly sort of toothy smile that reminded Jessika of an awkward teenager on a first date. She had no idea how either of them could focus on flying or shooting through all the love-struck beaming.
“I can’t believe you made it between those two ships! That was amazing!” Finn shouted after Poe rocketed straight through a narrow gap between the wings of two enemy vessels. “You’re probably the only pilot who could even think to try that!”
“Yeah, because it was insane,” Jessika said, but was ignored.
“I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t know you would be able to pull off that double-shoot maneuver,” Poe countered. “That was the really impressive part.”
“Nah, that was nothing. What you did—oh, enemy starfighter at nine o’clock. Your left, my right.”
“Got it. I’ll dive low so you can—”
“Yep, I’m on it. Wow, nice dive! I’m firing... now!”
“Did you hit it? You did! Finn, you’re fantastic!”
“You are fantastic—”
“Please, please stop,” Jessika begged loudly. “Can’t you just make out when this is over like normal people instead of flirting all the goddamn time?”
There was a brief silence in the starfighter.
“Finn and I aren’t, you know—” Poe stumbled.
Finn jumped in. “We’re not, um, together—”
“And I don’t think we were flirting.”
“Yeah,” Finn agreed. “Um. Not unless—”
“Hm?”
“Unless you, uh, you wanted it to be flirting.”
“Oh, um”—Poe started rubbing the back of his neck, which was probably dangerous, since it meant he was piloting the starfighter with only one hand—“I think.... I really think I would, actually, but only if you....”
“No, yeah, I’d... I’d like that. A lot.”
“Really?”
“...Yeah.”
“Wow,” Poe said, his dopey grin expanding into one that was positively ridiculous. “That’s.... That’s amazing!”
Jessika turned around to look at Finn. The back of his ears and neck looked red, and although she couldn’t see his face, she would’ve been willing to bet a lot of credits that he was blushing and grinning just as much as Poe was.
Jessika’s suggestion hadn’t worked at all. Rather than replacing their flirting with post-mission kissing, Finn and Poe were now probably doing both. Jessika couldn’t say she was surprised. It was just her luck.