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1.
"Hey," Finn hisses through his teeth, elbowing his companion, "That looks like her."
The door slides shut behind the Togruta, remarkably pretty with dark green skin and pale head tails. She doesn't particularly look like the information broker that had sold Republic flight routes to Zabrak marauders who have massacred five vessels so far, but then, Finn doesn't know who would. The Zabrak themselves had been resolved with extreme prejudice, but the whole affair left Finn wondering. After weeks of chasing credits, rumors, and false leads he had finally tracked the source from a wronged client’s very vengeful droid.
"You’ll set her on fire if you stare at her like that," Poe says, his conversational tone indistinguishable among the background rabble of the cantina. Under the bar he nudges Finn’s boot.
“Ow,” Finn says on principle.
"What did I just say?"
Finn quickly looks back at his drink, abashed. He shouldn’t need the reminder, especially from someone without the years of Republic Intelligence Operative training Finn’s had, but a pilot like Poe whose survival often depends on quick thinking and quicker action possesses acutely honed instincts that someone who analyzes signals and transmissions on the regular just doesn’t.
"Do you think she'll approach us? Neither of us fit her usual preference.” Discontent spouses was the best way of defining it, the lonely partners who are looking for a warm body to pass the night and forget their problems at home.
Poe stares contemplatively at his drink. "I can be.”
“Thanks, Poe, but you’re already sticking your neck out for me. You don’t need to pretend- ” But Poe holds a finger up to quiet him. “Wait one," he says, downing the shot. To Finn's bewilderment, he follows up by sighing heavily, shoulders slumping, and saying as though they'd been talking for hours, " - and he always says he’s ‘too busy’ to stop by, or it’s ‘too dangerous’. I haven’t laid eyes on him in months, buddy. Months."
Prompted by Poe’s dramatic sigh and more forceful kick under the bar, Finn replies awkwardly, "That's - that's terrible."
"Isn't it," Poe says, looking for all the world like a husband mourning his doomed relationship. "And Force even knows what he's getting up to in, in - the last comm he sent was from Canto Bight, can you believe it?"
Finn replies faintly, "That's... very far."
"Sometimes," Poe said, dejected, "It is. Very, very far."
Finn is thankfully saved from coming up with a response by their suspect sliding onto the barstool next to Poe and giving him a commiserating smile. "I couldn't help overhearing," she says gently, "your wife?"
"Husband," Poe corrects. He has, Finn realises, placed his hands on the bar, and is twisting a simple grey ring around one finger.
"It's tough," the Togruta says, and if he didn't know better Finn would think it was real compassion coloring her tone. "I've been there, too."
Poe leans into her space, curls falling artfully across his brow. She mirrors him, leaning in close to trace a finger down his arm and whispers. " - I shouldn't," Finn hears, Poe’s voice low, warm rumble, but she seems to expect it, her head bowing in quiet empathy. Slowly, as Finn surreptitiously watches, their heads bent together, the Togruta's hand falls to Poe's thigh. He doesn't push it away.
It takes every ounce of composure to not stare open mouthed. Poe really missed his calling as an operative.
When they rise to leave, Finn waits for a long sixty seconds before following them out. He rounds the corner and sprints through the alleyway just in time to see the shine of the Togruta's blaster aimed at Poe's chest before BB-8 blares a shrill series of binary and stuns her. When she is bound and slumped unconscious against the grimy wall Finn claps a hand on Poe’s shoulder.
"That was - quick thinking," Finn says, finally able to catch his breath. Field work is entirely overrated and the hotshots upstairs can keep it. To think he can’t wait to go back to converting wavelength frequencies. "With the ring, and the pretending to be married thing."
"Buddy," Poe says, an odd look on his face, "I am married."
Finn waits, expecting him to finish it - ‘to my ship,’ maybe, or ‘BB-8 is right there’ - but he just stops, leaving the sentence hanging uncomfortably unfinished. BB-8 whirrs questioningly, bumping into Finn’s leg. A little too high-pitched, he laughs, "Good, good one, Poe. Yes. Yep," words stumbling over each other, and Poe's eyebrows slowly rise.
"I'll, ah,” he reaches into the Togruta’s robes, fishes out her data pad, “Get this processing, how about that. And we can get her back to the ship."
"That is," Poe says dryly, "your job."
"Yes!" Finn exclaims, and seeking escape, hefts their captive over his shoulder and starts walking. After a moment, Poe follows behind. BB-8 sprints ahead, chirps sounding too close to laughter for his comfort.
2.
Poe comes to an abrupt halt at Finn's side, orange flight suit cutting a clear and striking figure against the snow. "I thought these guys traded in synthmail weapons, not scary death monsters."
"They must be expanding their resume.” Sweat drips down Finn’s brow only to freeze in tiny crystals by his eyes. He brushes them away with his good arm; the other sports a burning gash he'd gotten for coming a little too close to those razor-sharp talons when the thing had burst out of its durasteel crate. Which it had chewed through. With its rows of teeth.
Poe's gaze sweeps over him and his mouth twitches into a concerned frown. “You okay there, buddy?”
Finn is sure that short of a rathtar dropping out of the vents above, this supposed ‘routine’ contraband bust can’t get worse. He’s just grateful that Poe had landed the ship so close and came running at the sound of Finn’s terrified squawking over the comm.
“So, who’s your new friend?”
“I think it’s an akk dog.”
Poe frowns, “A what?”
“An akk dog,” Finn repeats, eyes back on the red, scaly beast, “They’re exported across the galaxy as pets or guard dogs, but you have to start training them when they’re young or else-” The akk leaps onto another crate inside the warehouse and begins tearing it to shreds with its claws. Finn winces.
“I’m guessing this one isn’t housebroken.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“What’s the plan, mister intelligence officer?”
Finn considers calling it quits, but the stolen components they were tracking could still be somewhere inside. “Jatha Venn suggested we, uh, try to corral it but we can’t shoot through the carapace, and I’m not a Jedi, so -"
The akk dog continues savagely digging through the crate, even when the wood is splinters and it hits the metal underneath.
“Is that durasteel?” Poe exclaims.
“Best guess, yep. Cage was made of the same thing and it chewed right out.”
“Chewed?!”
“With teeth,” Finn confirms.
Poe curses feelingly.
"Jatha going for help?"
"Yes," Finn says, and then, a little hysterically, "But right now we’re it."
Poe huffs a laugh, then whips his head toward Finn. “Wait, what was that about you not being a Jedi?”
Finn licks his lips, arm throbbing in sympathy with what’s left of the crate. “Well, in addition to being terrifyingly stong, some reports claim that akk dogs are Force sensitive. Something about Force bonds? But unless you’re holding out on me, Poe, I think we should just wait for help.”
Then, to Finn’s sudden horror, Poe steps forward. In the direction of the aggressive, hungry, death-beast.
“Poe!” he cries, instinctively reaching out to drag his idiot best friend back to safety. "What are you doing, Poe, you’re not a kriffing Jedi! I was just kidding - "
The akk dog’s head swivels toward them, blue eyes locked on Poe. "Finn," Poe snaps, tugging out of his grip, "stay there and for both our sakes, be quiet." Finn swallows the words he’d like to say to that and worriedly watches the back of Poe's ridiculous flight suit as he approaches the akk.
The idiot doesn’t even have his blaster out. Not that he always needs it, with that particular brand of Dameron charm he throws around like it’s as easy as breathing, but against this creature - Finn finds himself clutching his own weapon, fingers squeezing the blaster’s grip until his knuckles ache and has to force himself to take a breath and relax even just a little bit. He'd be ready to blast the akk’s eyes first, then carry Poe back to the ship if necessary. There’s plenty of bacta on board, he thinks, and Jatha Venn can navigate them at least to the next outpost -
Poe freezing dead in his tracks catches Finn’s attention. Only a few feet away from the akk dog. It observes him with the confidence of an apex predator as Poe spreads his hands wide, abruptly kneels down and - closes his eyes? The akk shuffles in place, body coiling to pounce, and Finn has his heart in his throat and a shout behind his teeth, blaster cleared of it’s holster and ready even though he’s too far. He should've gone with Poe, not stayed this safe distance away like a coward.
But then, inexplicably, the akk lays down.
"What?" Finn blurts.
Poe doesn’t respond. He barely seems to be breathing. Whatever he’s doing has a miraculously calming effect on the creature because it goes boneless to the ground, looking for all the world like a contented puppy and not a best-friend eating nightmare. There they stay, Poe kneeling on the cold concrete with the sleeping akk and Finn looking on incredulously.
Not even the rapid crunch of approaching boots and Republic infantrymen surrounding them breaks the spell. No one dares move until Poe takes a gasp of air and shakily climbs to his feet. Finn is at his side in an instant.
“Are you okay?!” He whispers shrilly, taking in Poe’s glassy eyes and how his whole body trembles. Without waiting for a response - because he’s not okay, he’s insane - Finn strips off his jacket and wraps it around Poe’s shoulders, patting him soothingly and steering him out of the warehouse.
“Thanks, buddy,” Poe says weakly, “I wasn’t sure that would even work.”
“Wasn’t sure -” Finn repeats, apoplectic. "What even was that?"
"It’s simple if you know how," Poe sighs, leaning into Finn’s touch. Too relieved to be mad, Finn obliges by kneading at his shoulders and neck until the shaking subsides. “Felt like they would react to a strong presence. And a little something extra,” he waves his fingers and half-heartedly waggles his eyebrows suggestively.
Finn is about to call him on that bantha-crap but Jatha Venn pushes through the line of soldiers, looking winded but no worse for wear. "Poe bloody Dameron, have you lost your mind?! The Senator will have me skinned if she knew half of what you just did," Quarren fumes.
“Hey there, squidface. Glad to see you, too.”
Finn frowns at them both, hands sliding from Poe's back. “What are you talking about?”
Poe glances over him, at the other infantrymen trying not to look like they’re blatantly eavesdropping, and sighs dramatically, "If you must know, my husband taught me. And that,” he gestures to the sleeping akk dog being transferred to another crate, “Is the Force. Are you done interrogating me now? How about you, Jatha? That was some lively ‘weaponry’ there." Not waiting for an answer from the irate Quarren, he stalks off for the shuttle, Finn’s jacket still securely on his shoulders.
Finn levels an accusing look at his informant, who is definitely going to be cited in his reports as 'squidface' from now on.
"Skywalker wept, he didn't have to lie about it," Jatha Venn said, mouth twisting. "If he didn't want me to ask - "
"It's Poe," Finn says, like that explains everything. Half the time, it does. But he has the slight feeling something was strange about it all, like he’s missed something important right in front of his face.
“You get to open the next crate. Squidface.”
3.
Somewhat fittingly, the next time Finn hears Poe mention being married is at the annual Republic Memorial Gala. Poe is surrounded by the punch bowl, which is hardly a surprise as Poe could draw the most staunch introvert into his orbit.
One of his current admirers is a newer administrative assistant that Finn has seen around Senator Organa’s offices, a younger woman who has undoubtedly heard every salacious rumor about The Poe Dameron Experience at least twice judging from the way she rakes her gaze up and down the pilot's body. Finn takes a gulp of his champagne and grabs a canape.
" - I'm married," Poe is saying.
"Sure you are, handsome," says the girl, patting his arm, which he tolerates goodnaturedly but Finn reads the slight pinch in his brow and tension in his jaw as clearly as if he'd shouted across the banquet hall.
"That's what they all say, isn't it? But we can still have a good time, you know. Besides, I don’t see anyone here with you."
Finn rolls his eyes.
Poe edges - not back, because it would lead him into the elaborate hovering bowl of punch, but sideways. "I really am married," he protests. "In fact, I have been for nearly ten years. It's very happy." He doesn't look happy to Finn; in fact, he looks on the verge of making a run for his ship, or at least hiding under the table.
One of Poe's fellow pilots, Snap, had obviously gotten too much into the alcohol; his face is red and he thumps Poe on the back. "Good one," he laughs, too loud even in this crowd, "come on, Commander, there's no need to make shit up. He's not fun," he adds in stage whisper to the girl, who eyes him in a vague sort of way, "you want some fun, don't you?"
Poe's gaze sweeps over the nearest crowd of people who are pretending they aren't watching the show like Finn, who quickly raises both snack and glass to draw his attention. The relief on Poe’s face warms Finn's heart.
"You kids have some fun, I’m going to be boring and married over there," he says, moving to extricate himself from the group with a winning smile and nods to some of the other partygoers.
"Oh yeah? What's her name, boss?" Snap challenges before he can make a clean getaway.
"His name is Kylo. Kylo Ren. Is that all?" His tight expression says it had better be, and the girl seems to realize her misjudgement because she nods in quiet assent.
Later, though, it’s still the topic of conversation; Finn hears Jessika say, "Kylo, really?" looking extraordinarily doubtful. "That's doesn’t even sound like a real name."
"Maybe he made someone up?" Snap offers, and he eyes Finn lurking. "What do you think, spook?"
Finn makes a face and stuffs another canape in his mouth. "I definitely do not want to get involved in this conversation."
"Dameron actually dating someone, though?" Jessika adds doubtfully. "Let alone getting married? Nope. Rumor is he’s slept his way through half the squadron. And besides, his default mode is ‘unrepentant flirt'. He's pretty, but who would put up with that?"
"Well," Rey chimes in right beside Finn, startling him into inhaling his food, "there's one way to find out if this husband's real, right?"
“Rey, you made it!” Finn cries when he can breathe again. He throws his arms around her and she smiles, accepting the affection gladly. BB-8 whirls around them in happy circles. “Hey BB.”
"Alcohol," Snap and Jessika answer at the same time, surprising Finn. Most people would see Jedi robes and think 'mind reader', but knowing Poe and the deep-rooted trust he has for his fellow pilots he really shouldn’t be. Jessika continues, "If we get him drunk enough, hopefully he'll forget all about it, too."
"If you don’t want him to remember then maybe we shouldn’t do it at all.”
"Drunk Poe is honest. And an oversharer," Rey says, BB-8 beeping affirmative.
Finn drops his head on her shoulder and sighs.
Despite - or perhaps encouraged - by Finn's protests they do what they said they would and start plying Poe with drinks. They weren't obvious about it - they were squadmates after all, trained by Poe himself - but Finn can see the way they work together, the way Jessika recruits Asty to ensure his drink never gets too empty. The concerted effort by Rey to keep him occupied with talk about his pet X-wing restoration project. If Poe notices their efforts, he doesn't let on; it actually seems to be working, with the way his gestures grow increasingly uncoordinated, and he's even undone the top two buttons of his dress shirt to the appreciation of approximately everyone.
"So we never knew you were married!" Rey says, after they'd all given her the clear. "What's he like?"
Poe instantly replies, "An absolute menace," and eyes her narrowly for a moment. "Why do you ask?"
"Just wondering," she counters blithely. Finn winces at his tone. Jedi she may be, but adept conversationalist she is definitely not. "Kylo, right? What does he do?"
"He's a Jedi. Sort of," Poe amends, and Finn stares blankly at Rey, clearly as surprised as she is by that revelation. “But it’s a big secret, so shhhh…” Poe says sternly, laying a finger on his lips but ruining it a second later by breaking out into giggles.
And each new detail is even more bizarre than the last. "His parents are heroes of the Republic, he beat a Wookie at arm wrestling when he was twelve, and is evidently,” Rey recites dubiously to Finn, keeping her voice low, "man artist with a blaster’. Has Poe forgotten everything he taught us about lying with consistency?"
"You mean, keeping it simple?" Jessika asks, her bemusement matching theirs. "I don't know."
Rose frowns. "You think it's some kind of test? I don't think the Commander’s outright contradicted himself yet."
"Maybe..." Finn says, and glances surreptitiously around. Snap is still occupying Poe out of earshot. "I don't know. Maybe he's trying to keep people from asking him on dates?"
Rey gestures emphatically to Poe’s halfway unbuttoned shirt and the entourage of thirsty onlookers.
“Point taken.”
Laughing, Jessika says, "Come on. Commander Dameron? War hero? Most eligible bachelor and best damn pilot in the Republic? The subtext of all that alluring sexiness is ‘Commitment Issues’ in bold." BB-8 beeps in affront. “Of course you don’t count BB,” she consoles. When her amusement fades, though, she looks thoughtful. "It would be clever, keeping anyone from getting too close under the pretext of a fake relationship.”
The mood subdued, Rey simply declares, “We’ll see if he changes his story."
Despite their questioning over the night, Poe never mixes up his details, although the story becomes more and more outrageous. “A whirlwind romance at a Jedi temple? Proposing under a- a... what the kriff is a Force tree?" Snap demands, red-faced and weaving on his feet.
Poe, flushed and gesticulating wildly, is expounding on the number of planets Finn is fairly sure didn't actually exist in explored space on which his spouse has completed the kind of daring secret missions that Finn would have dreamed up as a boy. Like flying through a no-kidding asteroid as it implodes to somehow destroy a dark artifact that can supposedly destroy whole worlds crafted by the ancient Sith Lords themselves. In blinding darkness. With no functional onboard navigation. "Using just the Force. And the rancors! Did I mention the rancors?" he adds, as Jessika dizzily puts her head in her hands and groans.
Finn has had enough. True or not - but like, definitely not - Poe has been visibly wilting for the past half hour until he’d given up all pretense of military bearing and tucked himself under Finn’s arm, messy curls tickling his neck. He is in no condition to be standing much less attempting to answer increasingly belligerent questions about his made-up husband. "Poe, I think it's time you got home," he says loudly with a challenging glare to anyone who would argue.
Poe scoffs, the effect of the alcohol visible in the way he fumbles to reach for a passing dessert tray without toppling himself and Finn over. "Yes," he says, mouth full of cake like the uncouth scoundrel Finn always knew he was. "Yes, I need to go home. Alone."
"Okay, flyboy," Rey laughs, “Let’s get you home,” and takes an astonishing amount of his weight until the two of them are successfully herding drunk Poe through the diminished crowd toward the door.
"Uh, say- say hi to your sweetheart for us, won't you?" Kaydel calls after them, sounding at least somewhat sincere.
"He's not here," Poe laments, and swings his head to look at Rey. "I did say that, didn't I?"
"Yes, you did," Rey answers quickly, "You mentioned it. A few times. Come on, let's get outside."
Poe gives them both a stare as blank as he'd given Finn before. "Buddy, buddy-ies," Poe whines, "I'm not - incapacitated." He sounds the word out slowly.
"Of course not," Finn agrees, and he has to bite his lip hard.
“Kylo doesn’t get drunk. He gets this,” Poe scrunches up his face and gestures to his eyebrows, “And it’s adooorable. His face is all, soft. And cheekbones.”
“I’m sure he’s very pretty,” Rey says sagely.
“And that ass. Am I right?”
Finn chokes. “Poe!”
“I’m right,” he giggles, even louder when Rey can’t hold in her own laughter any longer. “Doesn’t quit.”
“I don’t want to hear this,” Finn whines.
“I do!”
"He named my X-wing, you know," Poe says dreamily.
Rey snorts, "Please tell me you actually mean your ship and not your - "
“FOR FORCE’S SAKE, REY!”
4.
"Are you looking to purchase something? A set of these rings, perhaps?"
Finn can't help his guilty glance toward the door, even though he's thoroughly concealed. Splicing the shop’s database is a simple but time-consuming effort if he wants to restore it untouched, and if this leads turns up nothing again then he definitely does. Finn has already stretched his goodwill with his superiors at Signals Intelligence beyond comfort. Poe is happily distracting their suspect, a jeweler and possible black market dealer, while Finn had entered unnoticed behind him and snuck in. The spec ops comm he'd re-appropriated before sneaking out is impeccable; he can hear them crystal clear.
"Perhaps," Poe echoes, and Finn can imagine him leaning against the displays with his head angled down to get the best effect when he looks up through his curls and says,
"What would you recommend?"
"Are you planning a wedding? These engagement rings - "
"No, I'm married," Poe says, "but he loses his on a regular basis. Has to take it off for work and then just - "
They both laugh politely, and the jeweler continues, "Ah. Well, in that case..."
Finn lets his awareness of their conversation fade to background noise as he focuses on the hack, gradually teasing the security protocols apart. He bites back the noise of triumph as the last wall falls and he scans the data with an easy program. What it finds is a perfect match for the stolen gems and heirlooms that have been flooding the black market recently, along with a stockpile of probably-illegal splicing kits.
"Got you," Finn whispers, triumphant, and taps his comm to signal his success. Poe and the jeweller are still talking about wedding rings, and by the time Finn creeps back out to the front of the store there are a dozen boxes on the counter and Poe is peering thoughtfully at one in the center.
His sharp gaze catches Finn’s approach, and then he fixes his stare on the jeweller. "Thank you for your time," he drawls, laying on the Dameron Charm thick, "aaand you're under arrest."
"You can't -" The jeweler starts spluttering, his eyes bulging as Poe levels his blaster at the man’s chest.
"Don’t,” Poe warns, “and you’re right. I can’t.”
“But I can," Finn says unsympathetically, seeing the hidden blaster that the jeweller had reached for. "You're in possession of stolen goods. Turn around and put your hands behind you back before I make you."
The jeweler's hand tightens on the grip of his weapon. Finn shifts his grip on his own, but Poe doesn't move an inch as he stares the man down with an intensity that even has Finn standing up straighter and ready to salute. Faced with that look, the jeweller folds, handing his weapon over the counter. "I bet you're not even married," he grumbles, low enough to be heard. "Who would marry a kriffing asshole like - "
"Hey, buddy," Poe says to Finn with menacing cheer, "perhaps this guy’s entire store's stock will need to be confiscated as well."
Paling, the jeweler shuts his mouth and Finn gives him a smile as he cuffs him. "I really should perform a more thorough investigation here, at least until the Peacekeepers arrive to collect you."
"So professional. I admire your dedication," Poe says brightly and then he deliberately slides the ring box he had been looking at into his jacket pocket. The jeweller gapes at him and Poe gives him a look that dares him to object as he saunters out through the glass doors; Finn tries unsuccessfully to hide his amusement by turning pointedly away.
It turns out that, while clearly implicating, the jeweler's records were incomplete. After he’d been taken by the local Peacekeepers Finn spends a good hour cataloguing transactions and marking down the discrepancies. It seems like the guy has been running this operation for years, re-purposing precious metals and gems from other jewelry to set them in another piece or copy the original's design with a fake, and he is satisfied that there are a few open cases of stolen goods that would be closed with the man's arrest. He does the rings on the counter last, assessing them despite himself: no gems, classy and elegant to the last, but...
Was Poe actually planning on getting married? Had he taken the ring just to prove a point? Or - Finn’s thoughts jolt to a halt - is he really telling the truth?
He takes his notes and a bag of confiscated goods with him back to the shuttle, and Poe nods in greeting, though he's fiddling distractedly with something Finn can’t quite see before being pocketed.
Poe listens agreeably as Finn describes his findings and congratulates him with a half-hug and a, “Good job, Finn. You’re really nailing this field work thing. Thinking about transferring any time soon? You already know the best damn pilot in the Republic.”
“Yeah, but he's retired from active combat duty,” Finn says, just like every other time he brings it up.
Poe hums noncommittally.
"I also didn't get that ring."
"Lost it," he replies instantly, "Almost immediately. Complete disaster. Disaster Dameron, that’s my call sign. Should’ve been a nerf-herder."
"So you're going to keep it?"
“Would probably lose the nerfs, too,” he muses.
Finn laughs, “Sure thing, Poe.”
"I do," he says, "have a husband who often loses his wedding ring." He looks at Finn curiously. "Do you also not believe that I'm the marriageable sort?"
"I- I," Finn stutters, and flushes, feeling awfully transparent. "Of course, man - if you're married, then you must be, right?"
"Yes," Poe says, "you would think that."
There’s something about the expression on his face, strangely blank and thoughtful, that makes Finn feel abruptly terrible for questioning him; even if Poe isn't married, he’s Finn’s best friend, and if there’s one thing Poe Dameron - disaster he occasionally may be - always does is support his friends. "Well," he says, "I hope, um, he likes the ring."
Poe’s smile is blinding and when he says, "Thank you, Finn," so sincerely the only thing Finn can do is wrap him in a hug.
5.
Determined to support Poe, but not really believing him, Finn finds himself in the unenviable position of covering for his friend often. "If he wants to say so," he vents to Rey, who has decided the whole thing was some sort of extended con, "I won't contradict him."
"Of course not," She says soothingly, patting Finn's arm. "I love him, too."
So when they found themselves with Poe at the Dirty Nerf - “very funny, Finn” - downing shots of some blueish alcohol, he's already light-headed when a woman with intent eyes and a low-cut dress comes up to interrupt their conversation. Finn thinks nothing of catching her arm.
"Don't try," He says, "really."
"Taken?" she asks.
"Married," Rey interjects, "and no - not to me."
"Ah, what a pity," the woman says, and then gives Rey a lingering look that makes her snort, shaking her head. "No? Your loss."
But when Finn turns back to grab another shot glass, he realises Poe is watching them with naked gratitude and affection.
"Um?" he says, feeling entirely not drunk enough. "I'm sorry, I just thought you'd prefer - "
"Married?" he asks, and Finn blinks at him, confused.
"Yes," Rey nods, "you've said it a few times. I mean, even though you made him up, it's a very sweet story, Poe. And it does actually work well for chasing people off." She pauses, mentally rewinding. "Not that you made him up! I'm sure you're - very happily married. To - "
“Kylo.” Finn supplies.
“Kylo!” Rey cheers.
“Kylo.” Poe says, mouth twisting into a more subdued smile and something close to sadness in his eyes. Rey reaches out for him but Poe leans around her to steal her drink. "Thanks for remembering, guys. Oh, and leave the marriage talk to me, hm? I can keep my story straight."
Startled, Finn says, "You don't mean, you're not actually - "
"Leave it to me," Poe repeats, not answering Finn's question at all. "I wouldn't want too many lies to spread." He rises to his feet, straightening his jacket, and then, absurdly, winks at them before leaving to talk to the same woman who had tried to approach him earlier.
Finn grabs blindly for a drink and downs, letting the alcohol carry his disbelief. "He actually lied," he says to the Twi’lek behind the bar, who doesn't look at all bothered. "Kriffing hell."
He'd thought he had, of course. Everyone had. But hearing it from him, almost outright - Finn fels rather odd about it, and a glance at Rey confirms that she’s just as unsettled by what had happened as he is, but it’s lost in the realisation that even if Poe had admitted it to them, they couldn't tell anyone else about it.
His mind whirring in self-defeating circles, Finn keeps his hands off the drinks and an eye on his friend for the rest of the night.
+1.
"Wait," Finn says, his hands pausing on the stack of trade permits he was about to glance through, "what do you mean Poe was - was taken?"
"The transport was ambushed," Rey replies, her hair falling out of its usual neat buns as if she had sprinted all the way here, face pale against her brown robes. "They found bodies on the craft."
"Shit."
"Poe is missing. I’m going to get him back - "
"Me too," he says, jumping up from his desk.
Surprisingly, getting an immediate audience with the Senator isn’t the hard part.
"Denied." she says serenely, not even bothering to look up from her tea.
"I..." Finn struggles to form words through his utter disbelief. He’d only met Senator Organa once before at orientation and seen her around HQ from afar, but the way Poe always talks about growing up around her with such admiration and respect he had thought at least a portion of that was reciprocated. Apparently not. “I don’t understand, Senator.”
"The issue is being handled," she repeats, “and not by you. You can return to your duties, Officer.”
"Yes - yes, ma’am," he mumbles, feeling blood rush to his face as she turns dismissively away. Glancing at Rey, he can see her mouth open, narrowed eyes fixed directly on Senator Organa.
“What do you mean it’s being handled,” She demands. “Do you know where he is?”
“Does your Master know where you are?” Senator Organa counters, giving them an unimpressed look over her shoulder.
If there’s one thing to be said about Rey, it’s that she never backs down from a challenge. "You mean does Master Skywalker know that you’re impeding Jedi business by refusing to sanction the rescue of a decorated Republic pilot and a valued asset to the Ahch-To Temple?”
Finn can feel his heart pounding like a Loth-cat in his chest; Senator Organa's mouth a thin, terrifying line as she regards them both.
Which is how they end up escorted from the Senate building after a dry, “Nice try, kids.”
Captain Solo at least seems willing to listen.
“You’re barking up the wrong tree if you think my word will change her mind. And I’m guessing Luke isn’t on board, either?”
Rey shakes her head, jaw clenched. That was an argument Finn is glad he hadn’t had to witness. Solo heaves a sigh, rubs the back of his neck. “Please, Captain Solo- “
“For the last time, kid, it’s Han.”
“Mr. Solo,”
“Stars above.”
“We just want to save our friend. Please.”
Finn catches his sudden, pained grimace before he wipes it off his face. "You'll be going anyway, won't you?" He says, more statement than question and Rey lifts her chin defiantly. "Poe would do the same for us - it's the least we can do."
“Then you might need these.”
Not even hyperspace is fast enough once they are aboard the Millennium Falcon heading to the coordinates Solo entered with a severe, “You stole these, you hear?”
They've only just landed on the derelict pad outside the massive skeleton of an Imperial-Class Star Destroyer half-buried in the sands of Jakku when BB-8 begins to beep in earnest, tugging on his jacket insistently. Finn speeds up once they clear the ramp, from a steady walk to a jog, and they keep up with him until he stops in front of an unhinged blast door, eyes it, and before he can even try to lift it the entire structure shudders violently and swings open. Rey grabs Finn's arm as they follow BB-8 through the hole. "I'm not certain where he is," She says, "but -" and points deeper within the ship.
"Go on," Finn says, "we're with you."
They wander through endless corridors of gunmetal grey with only BB-8’s light to guide them, leading back and forth and gradually down. They finally stop in front of a door notable only for the fact that Finn's eyes have a tendency to slide directly over it, making him squint and shake his head. Rey grabs his hand and says, "Watch out, something’s not right."
Finn looks down at BB-8 who is trilling faster than he can keep up with. “BB, what is it?” And several things happen at once. Rey yanks Finn behind her, lightsaber igniting as he crashes backward into the bulkhead. The door ahead ripples, twists into a jagged ball, and shoots across the corridor towards Rey. Before he can scream, her saber bisects in midair, halves impacting feet away to both sides of him. With a cry, Rey strides forward, blade intercepting a blur of matching blue strikes. Cursing, Finn fumbles for his blaster but in the dim light he can barely see which set of robes belongs to Rey to target.
As abruptly as the chaos began, it stops.
Rey retreats to his side, chest heaving and eyes fierce. Her saber illuminates a figure cloaked in dark robes - Sith robes, Finn’s mind supplies - and some sort of black and silver mask. Their dual-blade saber extinguishes when BB-8 rolls forward and bumps into their black boot.
“Who are you!” Rey demands, steel in her voice.
The mask must have something to modulate sound because the figure’s breaths crackle through a speaker. “Rey,” he says, “And Finn.”
Rey falters, clearly shocked, but BB-8 reaches out to grab the hem of the man’s robe. A Sith would have killed them twice over by now and BB-8 is as adept as Poe in judging character. He steps forward, “Yes?”
The man nods once, then returns to the room he came from. As he turns, Finn sees a flash of white underneath the black robes. He looks to Rey. She hesitates for just a moment before her saber goes out and she takes his hand to follow.
The stranger sets a quick pace, wasting no time with doors or even walls, simply flicking his wrist to clear the way. Rey’s grip tightens on his hand, confirming Finn’s belief that this display of Force power is beyond normal.
Not even a compartment full of Kanjiklub thugs phases him. He sweeps through their numbers like a whirlwind, too fast for Finn’s eyes to follow.
“Who are you?” Finn shouts as the stranger hurtles his saber into a Kanjiklub gunner’s chest.
“I’m here to get Poe back.” As if that’s the only explanation required. In one sweep his blade cleaves another gunner’s head from his body.
He looks to Rey, “Are you seeing this?!” And she is, wide-eyed and following his every motion. Her brow furrows in consternation. Finn doesn’t know what she’s looking for, doesn’t care aside from -
“WHO ARE YOU?!” He cries in the sudden silence. Every foe in the room lies dead. The masked man cocks his head as if he hears something. “Come on,” He says.
“Where are we going?”
“To Poe.”
BB-8 beeps enthusiastically. Finn flails a hand at the droid. “I get that. How do you know where he is?” When he doesn’t reply, Finn looks to Rey for support. She stares mutely at the man and ignores Finn’s questioning, “Rey?” to follow him. So Finn steps over a severed arm and goes after her.
The darkness inside the Star Destroyer feels endless. Their guide navigates unerringly forward, only pausing briefly to listen for something Finn cannot hear, until they arrive at yet another blast door. Finn braces himself, preparing for another fight, but the door crumples easily with a gesture from the stranger and falls to the side without a riot of blaster fire.
Waiting only a moment, they press in to the room. It is significantly cleaner than most of the others, but the smell still turns Finn's stomach; torture and pain and desperation. Finn can't help the noise he makes when he sees Poe, stripped to his skin and shackled to the wall; he’s covered in cuts and bruises, limbs trembling, but at Finn’s dismayed gasp he looks up and his dark eyes are almost clear. Finn, Rey, and BB-8 rush forward, heedless, as Poe opens his mouth and croaks a name. A name they have heard before.
“Kylo.”
The dark figure approaches. He removes both gloves, revealing pale hands that tenderly cradle Poe’s face. Poe’s eyes shutter closed. He swallows, swallows again, but a choked-off sob still escapes his lips.
Kylo Ren - Poe Dameron’s husband, the sort-of-Jedi - snarls, rips his mask off, throws it to the ground, and Force rips the shackles from Poe’s wrists. He easily catches Poe when he falls and lowers them both to the ground.
“Poe, are you okay?” Finn asks, which is stupid because obviously he’s not, but Kylo is wrapping Poe in his robe and the only thing in the world Finn wants to do right now other than murder the kriffing bastards who did this is to touch Poe. To feel under his own hand a steady heartbeat. To hug the haunted look out of his eyes.
Poe smiles weakly at him, at Rey, and lingers on Kylo, “Yeah, yeah I am. Thanks for coming for me.” Kylo, whose face is pale even against the white of his tunic, with a severe brow and dark hair who looks for all the galaxy like he could be a Sith Lord of old except for the naked adoration and concern in his brown eyes as he looks at Poe.
Rey presses her hand over her mouth. "Oh," she breathes, and Finn glances at her when she says, "He’s your Light," as Kylo gently strokes Poe’s sweaty hair.
"His Light?" Finn asks.
"I couldn’t sense it," Rey says, "only darkness. Shadows. It felt dulled, like something half-forgotten. And then you saw him. It’s beautiful."
"If you could please," Kylo sounds younger without the mask. He looks at Rey, his expression resolute, "Stay out of my head."
Finn can’t feel it, but he can see Rey visibly flinch as if Kylo had actually shoved her from his mind. He may have because Poe reaches up to swipe weakly at his husband’s face. “Be nice.”
He scowls, “I have been.”
“Nice for normal people,” Poe corrects as Kylo wraps his arm around his shoulders and helps him carefully to his feet. "We're leaving already? I was just getting comfortable."
BB-8 rolls up, stopping just shy of actually touching him. “Hey buddy. I’m happy to see you,” Poe stumbles in Kylo’s hold, but he meets Finn and Rey’s eyes and says, smile tight with pain, "All of you. Thank you."
"You need a healer," Kylo says.
The trip back isn't half-bad, considering. Poe makes it past the threshold before his legs give out and Kylo sweeps him up into his arms. Most concerning is that Poe seems too out of it to snark about it. He does grimace as he takes in the bloodstains on the wall while passing through rooms with dead gang members. " -shouldn’t have to," he whispers, and Kylo’s response is too quiet for Finn to hear.
The Falcon is the only ship big enough to accommodate all of them, so that’s where they carry Poe. He’s asleep the second he’s laid down, BB-8 keeping vigil at his bedside.
It makes for an awkward pre-flight check without anyone to smooth things over in the cockpit.
“We all thought he made you up," Rey says, because tact evidently is not part of Jedi training.
Kylo's already blank expression turns stony. "Really?"
"Yes, and then," She pauses, her mind turning. "Wait. That's... strange."
He arches a brow and it’s so much like Poe that Finn laughs. Kylo’s gaze flicks to him and his cheeks burn.
"Strange as in," Rey says, slowly, "I thought he told us he had made you up."
Kylo stares at her. "What exactly did he say?"
Finn recounts the conversation. "And that was three weeks ago," he says. "I, it is weird, I mean, he doesn't keep photos of you, or holovids - he lives in the barracks and nobody has seen you, he keeps his ring with the one he stole in a box in a drawer - "
"He doesn't keep pictures," Kylo interrupts, "because he says they only capture a pale imitation and never entirely me. He erases my holos once he sees them because they can be used against us if the wrong people knew of our relationship - to keep him safe. And I can’t wear a ring because it puts a target on him. He keeps his off, too - until I return and we can be together."
Finn opens his mouth and closes it, uncertain. Rey has no misgivings. “Poe Dameron, a romantic,” She sighs, “I’m not surprised.” Then, more seriously, “You’re a Shadow Jedi.”
“A Shadow, what?”
“They slay enemies of the Light and seek relics tainted by the Dark side of the Force to destroy them.”
“So, wait, you really did blow up an asteroid while you were still inside it?” Finn asks. Rey gasps, reaching over to shake Finn’s shoulder, “What happened with the rancor? And did you really name Poe’s- ”
“Fly now, ask later, Rey!”
"So, you're married to this guy, huh?" Finn whispers while they are huddled in the small alcove together, Kylo in the pilot’s seat for the last stretch of the trip. "How'd that happen?"
"We grew up together," Poe says, quietly. There are dark circles under his eyes, but he seems more alert with the short rest he got. “He went to train at the Temple, I became a pilot. We met again in the war - my squadron had just won a battle, so everyone was celebrating, but we'd also lost a lot of good people - good friends," he clarifies, looking away from their combined sympathetic expressions. "I - I'd been very close to them, but no one else seemed to take it as a loss. And then Kylo came up to me, asked why I was sad when he remembered that I had such a beautiful smile, and - he understood. Me, everything. That was it, like we’d never spent a day apart."
"And you got married?" Rey asks.
"After the war," Poe confirms, "In secret, of course, because Kylo - that’s not even his real name - you know what he is, right? We were so young. I... it was everything I’d been afraid to hope for."
"A whirlwind romance," Finn says, shaking his head, and Poe’s mouth quirks.
"Yeah," he said, "It sure was."
When they arrive, the hangar bay is deserted except for none other than Leia Organa, Han Solo, and Luke Skywalker themselves. Finn stumbles into Rey halfway down the ramp when she freezes at the sight of her Master. The stern look on his face makes Finn very grateful to have something to bodily hide behind.
Kylo and Poe descend next, Kylo bearing most of his husband’s weight despite Poe’s best effort at remaining upright. He looks worse than he had back on Jakku.
Han takes one look at him and stares resolutely at the Falcon.
Leia's calculating eyes take in the black robes hanging in loose folds from Poe's shoulders and the flashes of his tan chest underneath as he leans more fully into Kylo. She turns fierce eyes on Kylo, who nods wordlessly, that dark fury from when they first found Poe naked and bound flashing across his face like lightning. It passes just as quickly, both Senator and Jedi affecting passive expressions.
Luke is the first to approach them. He cups Poe's cheek in his hand affectionately, "Welcome home, son.”
“You too, Uncle.” Poe replies, his voice thick with emotion.
“Uncle?” Rey sputters.
“In-law,” Luke corrects, a twinkle in his eyes.
Finn's mouth falls open. Everyone knows the Senator sent her son off for Jedi training at the Ach-To Temple, but Finn had always heard that Ben Solo became a negotiator on Coruscant. He watches with the horror of dawning realization as Kylo cedes his place at Poe's side so Leia can step forward to embrace him with all the tenderness of a mother.
“Hey, mom.”
“Don’t you ‘hey mom’ me, Poe Dameron," She says against his shoulder, "If you ever make me worry this much again I swear I’ll demote you to sanitation faster than you can blink.”
Heroes of the Republic. Poe married into the only family in the galaxy more dramatic than himself.
Finn needs a drink.
*****
The apartment is dark and quiet, and BB-8 keeps the light low as they pass through the hall. Ben's bedside lamp is still lit, and he examines Poe in the way that means the Force as he sluggishly divests himself of the thin hospital garments.
"Sleep, now," Ben says, glancing out the window to the twin moons high in the sky, and then rubs his forehead.
“How are you?” Poe asks, watching Ben pull back the sheets and settle into their bed.
“Uncle Luke said he and mother would send people to finish Jakku in the morning.” His face contorts into a confused half scowl, “Your friends sat with me while you were with the healer. We had hot cocoa."
“I knew they’d like you," Poe beams, "I did say so."
Ben relents under his husband's smile. "Yes, you did," he says, sighing. "They care about you a great deal."
"Same here." Poe yawns, exhausted again after being subjected to the healer’s ministrations. He’s going to be smelling bacta for days.
"Is there a reason you aren’t in bed?"
His gut clenches. Reaches for the Force tree to fill his mind. Warm afternoons napping in its shade. Playing Rebels in its boughs. Kissing Ben for the first time the day he left for training, and again as they bind themselves to each other a decade later. Until he doesn’t feel like throwing up at the sensation of ghost hands on his skin. “No,” He replies firmly.
Ben's hand presses into Poe's hair as he settles his head in the crook of Ben's neck, legs and arms entwining.
He doesn't need the Force to tell Ben’s thoughts are lingering too as they fall still in the semi-darkness.
"You shouldn’t have taken that job."
“I know.”
“You can say ‘no’ to him,” Ben says.
“And mess up being the favorite?” He jokes, knowing before he finishes that it sounds too forced. Ben’s fingernails scratch gently along his scalp. Poe squeezes his eyes shut. The hand lifts.
“Do you want me to- “
“No,” Poe repeats, inhaling deeply through his nose, smelling Ben and the dust on their barely used sheets and lingering bacta and Ben. He burrows more firmly against Ben’s neck to drive the point home.
“I should have been there,” Ben whispers, stricken.
“You were,” Poe says, equally quiet, and tries not to think of anything at all.
*****
When Poe enters the commissary the next morning he looks miles better than before, for all that he is wearing what must have been Kylo's clothes, ill-fitting; there is a tremor to his hands when he carries over his tray, but he’s clean and shaved and present in a way Finn had worried he wouldn't be.
"You look better, Poe," Rey says, and holds his gaze when he finally looks at her for longer than a second.
"Healer Yanias had a half-dozen experimental salves she was just waiting to try," Poe says, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "Some of them were even effective."
When Kylo strides into the room, mask once again concealing his face and lightsaber clipped to his belt, Poe visibly softens, smiling as he reaches out and carefully nudges BB-8 to make room for him at the table.
"Have you eaten?" Kylo asks, artificial voice crackling.
"Just waiting on you," Poe says sweetly and finally picks up a fork and knife with trembling hands, pointedly ignoring their scrutiny. “Got you a Korelian pear.”
Kylo taps his mask.
“Oh yeah. Hard to eat with all that,” He gestures vaguely, “Apparatus.”
His sigh is loud enough to transmit through the speakers.
Finn wonders, then, how he could have doubted the validity of Poe's marriage; not only his smile when he looks at Kylo, entirely fond, but how they fit together, the ease of the way they move in and out of each other's space. They spend the day in Solo’s private hangar, Poe explaining the progress he’s made on his X-wing restoration in detail until BB-8 relays a comm from his fellow pilots, who had just learned of his capture. The whole squadron is in disarray as they all enter the massive hangar. The gossip starts immediately.
"You flew a haul for Han Solo?" Rose asks, awed.
"Heard Rey took down a ship full of Guavian Death Gang elites with just the Force."
"No, that was Skywalker!"
"Snap, you idiot, everyone knows the Guavians work for Solo on the down low."
Finn struggles not to roll his eyes. Poe, at least looks amused by their bickering. Jessika pushes through the gaggle, stopping just short of him and ignores his cheerful, "Hey Jess," in favor of studying each black-green bruise, the thin scabs along his neck, and the over large sweater that conceals his wrists. Their eyes lock. Her jaw clenches, until she turns to Finn and loudly declares, "So the husband is real?"
All attention is on them. Thankfully Rey recovers faster than he does.
"Yes! Doesn't everyone know by now?"
"Well," says Jessika, "if the Commander got his act together and introduced us - "
At Poe's dry look she adds, "I mean, Commander Dameron, sir, it's so good to have you back, sir," throwing a lazy salute.
"I would hope so," he laughs, and looks over them all. "Well," he said, turning to speak to the gathering crowd of pilots, technicians, and droids, "if anyone is still insisting I made him up- "
"No, of course not, Commander," a young tech said quickly, echoed by the others. "It was just that- "
"You're an incorrigible flirt."
"You're so opposed to commitment that you refuse to watch holovids with us because two hours ‘is an oppressive claim on your time'."
"You've slept with half the pilot corps."
"Allegedly. Allegedly slept with- you guys," Poe whines, "He's literally standing right behind me." Whatever impression they had made of Kylo from drunk Poe's widely-spread exaggerations of his husband's exploits is eclipsed by the imposing black garb and mask. Finn can tell by their collective tension when Kylo steps forward and rests a hand on Poe’s shoulder. Poe does, too.
“The mask is for his protection. And yours.”
He’s very quickly overwhelmed by the bombardment of questions following that statement, at least until Snap askes, doubtful, "So, you... really flew through an exploding asteroid?"
"That seems to be a popular story," Kylo says knowingly, gently shaking Poe’s shoulder.
Slowly but surely, the pilot's eyes light up as Kylo stiffly expounds on the cavitation physics in open space compared to the semi-permanent gravitational field of a sizable object. "He's really quite... different to Poe, isn't he?" Rey asks Finn as an aside, and he looks at Poe, arm slung around Kylo’s shoulders and talking animatedly to Joph who is looking more and more impressed, and then back to Rey.
"Poe's husband, huh?" Jessika leans against the bulkhead, smile on her face. "Who would've thought."
But Finn knows better now, has seen the fear and protective fury in Kylo’s eyes when they rescued Poe, the naked adoration and love whenever they touched. Even now, BB-8 circles Kylo happily and he reaches down to pat Poe’s droid on the head.
"Well," Finn says, "he did say."