Chapter Text
When Poe Dameron, hot shot fighter pilot, terror with two wings, grey angel of precision destruction, was told he’d be doing some NATO relationship building via an international squadron in jolly ol’ England, he imagined something much different. Sure, it was winter, but in his head he still thought of rolling hills, rain, pubs with hearty food and pints, and rowdy fans watching “football” on TV. He did not think of dangerously narrow roads with absolutely no street lights, road signs that were few and far between (and even then, tucked behind old stone and thatch buildings ridiculously close to the road), or the icy rain pelting his tiny rental car.
Not to mention his phone didn’t appear to easily want to join the British network despite the AT&T employee insisting he was “good to go.” With the dark and the freezing rain and the most unhelpful GPS, Poe was fairly certain he was lost.
It was luck, then, when he came over the next hill and spotted a cluster of lights. He happened upon a small (very small) village which, as he drove down the main road past a cluster of buildings, he then drove out of. Finding a fenced off dirt pathway that led down to some sort of farm to turn around at, he went back through the town and parked in the also very small parking lot for quaint looking pub. A light flickering in the cold rain illuminated a hanging sign calling it the “Rose and Crown” with a picture of, yep, a rose and a crown.
Poe stomped his boots on the mat just over the threshold and shook the rain off his coat before hanging it on one of provided hooks. It was cozy inside—dated furniture, but clean and well kept. An old, boxy TV mounted in the corner played some British evening drama. It smelled divine though, like roasting potatoes and beef stew. It was also surprisingly empty. Given the fact that he had accidentally driven straight through the town before he realized it, he expected a small turn out, but not zero.
A woman with brown hair popped out from what Poe guessed was the door to the kitchen looking rather surprised as well. “Oh. Hello!” She sounded rather cheery in her cute British accent. As Poe walked further into the pub towards the bar, he realized she looked rather cute as well with her hair pulled back into two small buns behind her head and her large, toothy smile that made her eyes all crinkly.
“Sorry, I don’t get many visitors this time of night,” she said as she brought up a rag and wiped down the bar before he sat down.
“What time is it?” Poe asked as he slid onto the barstool.
She gave him a sideways glance and chuckled. “Nearly eight.”
“Must still be a little jet-lagged.” He smiled at her. Getting lost in the British countryside wasn’t so bad if this was what he had found.
“Just flew in from the States? Business or holiday?”
“Business—I was supposed to be at Brize Norton. Do you know where that is? Is it around here?”
“Brize Norton?” The woman laughed again, larger this time at his now obvious mistake. “I have no idea how you got all the way out here if you’re trying to get to Brize Norton.”
Poe shook his head and chuckled and pulled out his traitorous phone. “This thing,” he said shaking it before depositing it on the bar. “I should have just bought a paper map. Do you have a menu or anything? I’m starving.”
“Nope,” she shook her head, but pulled out a napkin and silverware and placed them in front of him. “I’ve got some of today’s soup—beef stew—left. I can bake you a potato, or I’ve got some leftover curry I can reheat. I can do fish and chips, too, but you’ll have to wait for the fryer to get hot again. There’s an apple tart if you just want dessert.”
“Beef stew sounds great—smells great, too.”
When the girl left, an orange tabby with white paws hopped up onto the bar. She purred and turned in a circle before plopping down on her haunches in front of him.
“Oh. Hi there,” Poe said, holding out his hand for the cat.
The tabby rubbed her face vigorously on his hand, turning her body all the way around so he would pet her. Never one to deny a friendly critter, Poe gave her all the head rubs and chin scratches she wanted.
“Bee, get down.” Rey pushed the cat away with one hand and set a bowl down in front of him with the other. She picked up the cat and carried her off somewhere else before returning with a hunk of bread to go with the stew. “Sorry about that.”
“Friendly thing you got there.”
Her eyes rolled as she nodded. “Found her scavenging the bins out back. Never feed a stray—they own you after that. You want a pint? I’ve got beer, cider…”
Poe chuckled, but turned down the offer of a pint and took a glass of water instead as he still intended to go back out into the dark, icy night and try to find the place he was supposed to be. She went off to finish cleaning up and left him to enjoy his meal in relative silence with just the TV droning on and the ice pelting the windows in the background.
On the wall next to the bar were a collection of photos and newspaper clippings—most about the bar itself and the town. The photos were largely of funny looking men with big noses and foreheads—one was a picture of a very large man clutching the hand of a sour looking girl with her hair tied into three buns.
“That your dad?” Poe asked once the woman had come around again.
When she sneered, Poe quickly felt the error of his assumption. “No, that’s Plutt. He used to own this pub. But he died, so it’s mine now.”
“And the others?”
“That’s the Irving Boys, they had this place before Plutt and ran it into the ground. And that’s Ducain, he picked it up at auction after the guy that owned it just up and disappeared one day.”
“Is this place bad luck?”
She shrugged. “Story of most pubs, I think.”
“Well, that was the best stew I’ve ever had. People should come from all over just to eat that. I’ll take some of that apple tart, if that’s all right?”
She gave a small, embarrassed laugh at the compliment and nodded. While she went into the back to fetch the dessert, Poe stood and went to get a closer look at the pictures and articles on the wall. From what Poe could discern from the clippings, this had once been a large farming community, and then parts of the farm were converted to a factory to make bullets for the war. After the war was over, the factory shut down and the town had dwindled since then. The caption of the photo with Plutt and the girl with the buns mentioned them simply as “owner of the newly refurnished Rose and Crown with his ward, Rey.”
“Coffee?” she asked as she set the plate on the bar with a clink.
“Yeah, sounds great.” Poe sat back down on the barstool to enjoy his dessert. He grinned when she poured a second cup and sat down next to him with her own plate.
“So, tell me about yourself, Yank-come-to-Brize-Norton. Do you have a name? What sort of business are you in?” she asked him between bites of the tart and sips of coffee.
Poe laughed. “First of all—I’m from Florida, so not a yank.”
She shrugged and grinned, seemed it was all the same from her British point of view.
“And I’m a pilot. Poe Dameron.” He wiped his hand on his napkin and held it out to her.
“A pilot?” she asked, her eyes widening in both surprise and glee. “Oh, that’s brilliant! What do you fly? Like a big airbus or a Cessna?”
“F-15.”
“A fighter pilot? Get out.” With another laugh she seemed to realize that she had just left his hand hanging out waiting for her to introduce herself. Blushing slightly, she took his hand. “I’m Rey.”
“I know.” When she quirked an eyebrow at him, wondering just how he knew that, he jerked his head towards the wall of photos. “You were a cute kid.”
“Thanks,” she said, awkwardly, but she was quick to not let the conversation linger on the people in those photos. “I want to hear all about flying a fighter jet. Tell me literally everything.”
And he did. If there was one thing Poe could do, it was talk about flying to anyone who would listen. Rey hung on every word, every crazy story. He told about young and dumb flight school pranks, long nights spent waiting for the order to go that would end in standing down. Those were the good days, even if he did prefer to be in the cockpit. Poe didn't’ tell her about the bad days. Those stories were too heavy for a first meeting.
They polished off the rest of the apple tart and the pot of coffee and Poe yawned and stretched and realized he really needed to get moving. They’d really be wondering what had happened to him if he missed the morning briefing, and he was sure he’d never hear the end of how he got lost.
“You got a map or something?” he asked as he stood up.
“Yeah.” Rey dug around in a drawer full of various junk and pulled out a badly folded paper map. “It’s a bit dated, but roads don’t change too much around here. This area—” She pulled out a pen and circled a major road junction. “—is under construction so you’ll need to go around—” Another stroke of the pen indicating a better route. “—shouldn’t be too bad this late, but I’d avoid that area all together when it’s daytime to be honest.”
“Thanks,” he said as he took the map and stared down at it. “For staying open, and the food and company. Can you, uh, mark where we are? In case I want to come back and try something else on the menu?”
Not the smoothest line he’d ever delivered, but she chuckled and circled the tiny dot that marked the village. Then she wrote her phone number in the corner of the map. “For when you get a British phone.”
“Thanks. Again.” It was a bit of an awkward goodbye with a slight wave and soft handshake as he walked towards the door. As Poe grabbed his coat off the hook however, he saw that the weather outside had taken a decidedly severe turn. When he pulled the door open, he was greeted by nearly a foot of packed, crunchy snow.
“Oh, that’s rather nasty,” Rey said from behind him. “I wouldn’t drive in that, if I were you. They don’t normally salt the roads out here.”
Poe frowned. He didn’t want to be late for the first day of his new assignment, but he also didn’t want to slide off one of these narrow roads into a snow-filled ditch. “Don’t suppose this town has a motel or something?”
“Once upon a time, this was it, but now it’s just a pub.”
“Well, can I pull up a corner of floor in this lovely pub? And probably call my CO and let her know I’m not AWOL.” Poe pushed the door shut, keeping the cold firmly outside and replaced his coat on the hook. “I promise I’m not an axe murderer.”
“Well, since you promised.” She grinned, not looking the least bit nervous to have a stranger stay overnight in what was her home. “But you should probably know that I teach a self-defense course during the week.”
Poe felt something kick off in his stomach. Definitely wasn’t the gurgling of slowly digesting beef cubes and carrots and apple tart. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.” But then, he kind of hoped he wouldn’t have to.
She smirked over her shoulder at him as she walked away to fetch the phone. It was a quick call—just confirming he had landed and didn’t die somewhere between Norfolk and Heathrow. He’d be late for the meet and greet, but would be out as soon as the roads were clear.
“Not sure how many extra blankets I have, but—well, shit.” There was a hum of power draining from the lights and other electronics in the building that preceded her profanity. She shuffled around in the dark, knocking things to the floor until she found a flashlight and clicked it on. “Hopefully, it’ll just… kick back on.”
They stood around for a minute, waiting, but nothing happened.
Poe wondered if the building had undergone any modernization lately to combat the draftiness of the old construction. When, after five minutes of still no power, Rey started grumbling about having to sleep downstairs in front of the fireplace, Poe figured that no, it had not.
Rey found him another flashlight, which she called a “torch” that Poe found rather silly and laughed about. He could practically feel her rolling her eyes at him. Then, she led him upstairs to help find the air mattress with the battery pump and extra blankets.
“There is… a lot of stuff here.” He didn’t mean to pry, really, but poked his head into the several rooms that were above the pub. Almost all were jammed full of boxes and bags stuffed to overflowing with other random junk shoved in. He thought he saw Bee the cat hop from one stack of boxes to the next, but she disappeared into the dark.
There was a sort of wistful sigh from ahead of him. “Plutt was a hoarder, but also a thief and a swindler. I should just throw it all away, but I always wonder if someone will come back for it.”
“Haven’t you ever seen those shows where they find treasure in abandoned storage lockers? Maybe there’s a first edition Hemingway in here you could sell on ebay.”
“Maybe,” she said thoughtfully after a long, quiet second.
“What was this Plutt guy to you?” There was another long pause and then a grunt as she hefted up the box with the air mattress. Poe quickly moved to take the burden from her and then stood still as she piled a couple pillows on top. “Sorry. That’s probably not my business.”
Back downstairs, they pushed a few tables and chairs out of the way and set up the mattress and the nest of blankets and pillows in front of the fireplace in silence. Poe found a couple fresh logs next to the hearth and tossed them into the fire, making sure it stayed well fed for their night without modern heating. When they were done, they sat near each other, not really close, and drank cider from mugs. On the house, Rey insisted, because the register was down.
“My parents left me with Plutt when I was a kid. I suppose I’m like all that junk I keep—waiting for them to come back and claim me.”
Poe didn’t know what to say to such a disclosure except, “I’m sorry, Rey.” He did feel sorry for her because she sounded awfully sad about it. It likely wasn’t something she really wanted to talk about either because they were two drinks in before the abrupt admission. But maybe she did want to talk to someone because he hadn’t asked again, didn’t prompt her for more.
“I shouldn’t even want them back, right? Who just leaves a kid with a man like Plutt?”
Again, Poe didn’t know what to do, so he scooted closer to her and cautiously draped his arm around her shoulders. “You turned out all right. Fixed this pub up nice. You teach—I bet those people in your classes look up to you. I just met you and I think you’re… inspiring.” It had taken him a second to think of the right word that wasn’t “a total hottie” or “amazing” or “smell really nice.”
She mumbled something that sounded maybe like an embarrassed thank you. “I’m not a fighter pilot. That sounds way more impressive than local pub owner.”
Poe chuckled and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll tell you a secret. I’m absolute shit at taking care of myself. I went from my parents’ house, to a college dorm, to the barracks. When I’m in someplace long enough to warrant actually having a place to stay, I go to one of those motels you can rent by the week. I eat in the chow hall or the little short order place they have next to the flightline. I am a mess of a person.”
“Yeah, but… fighter pilot.” She snickered and jabbed him sharply in the ribs with her finger.
“Okay, okay, you’re right. My job is way cooler.” He laughed and man, did he want to kiss her. It was pretty damn romantic with the fire and all snuggled in the warm blankets, but they had both had a couple drinks and had only just met each other. Poe wasn’t usually one to hold back, but he didn’t want to ruin it. He didn’t want it to be a quick tumble with a stranger and then the awkward exit in the morning. He had come to England for a very specific job, not for—whatever that would be. A relationship? He definitely didn’t have time for that. A fling? That would be fun, but… Poe wanted to get to know her, enjoy her company, and not have any broken hearts or hurt feelings when he had to go back home at the end of this.
But, she rested her head on his shoulder and they laid back against the pillows curled up underneath a thick coverlet. They slept quite close together for two strangers-barely-friends. Poe found the position surprisingly restful, and figured Rey did as well. When he woke up to the power coming back on and the many machines clicking and humming back to life, she was lightly snoring next to him. She slept right through it, and he didn’t wake her, just pulled off one of the blankets before it got too warm with the returning heat and snuggled in for a few more hours of sleep.
In the morning, he woke up to the orange tabby on his chest, nuzzling her wet nose into his chin. She walked in a few circles on his chest and then settled down as if for a nap. Poe grinned, but plucked the cat off and set her aside so he get get up. It was only slightly awkward, waking up next to the pretty stranger and cleaning up their comfy little nest, but not at all unpleasant. The temperature rose above freezing and the snow started to melt. With the sun peaking out late in the morning, the snow and ice reduced dramatically and Poe didn’t think he’d need to wait for the plow anymore. A few cars had been seen going back and forth, which Rey insisted was quite busy for that time of day.
“Thanks again,” he said as he pulled his coat on.
“Anytime, flyboy.”
Poe reached out and pulled her into a tight hug. He grinned when she returned it just as solidly. “I’ll text you from my new number. We should get drinks sometime—in a place where I can pay for them and you’re not serving them.”
Rey laughed and nodded. “Yeah. I’ll hold you to it.”