Chapter Text
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“You’re late! Come on! I can’t believe you’re late!” Rey almost tackled Poe as he approached the table where his friends all waited. Plates and empty glasses greeted him reproachfully; a drink was pushed into his hand. Rey kissed him on the cheek and pointed at the open stool right next to hers. “We’d planned on four, and I’ve been ordering with that in mind since we arrived, so now you’ve got some work to do, my friend!”
Poe made a show of smiling as he raised the purple shot he had been given to his lips, although he hated alcohol distilled from plums. “That almost made me wish I hadn’t come!” Poe spluttered after he swallowed, grimacing as he coughed. “That was foul. You know I hate those!” he scolded Rey.
“Then maybe you should have been here on time to stop me from ordering them!” she taunted, handing him another brightly colored drink. “Here. We’re already several drinks in--you have to catch up!”
“Wait, hang on, first thing’s first…” Bypassing the seat saved for him, Poe set the second drink down on the table and enveloped the guest of honor in a tight hug. “Congratulations, Finn,” he said warmly.
“Thank you!” Finn replied, grabbing the edge of the table with one hand to keep from tipping off his stool under the force of the congratulations. He clapped Poe on the back with his other hand, partially to return the hug, but mostly to give himself added balance. “And thank you for coming out tonight to celebrate!”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Poe said, his smile fading slightly as he sat down and realized how much alcohol he had waiting for him. “Well this explains why you practically fell into my arms a second ago,” Poe said, tilting his head toward Rey, but not taking his eyes off the array of full and varied cocktail glasses in front of him. He rolled his shoulders as if he were preparing for a fight. “You’ve already had this much to drink?” he asked incredulously.
“It’s a special occasion!” Rey insisted, raising her own drink in the direction of Finn. “We’re here to celebrate Finn’s graduation!”
“And here I thought we were celebrating his new career!” Rose chimed in, raising her glass towards Rey’s.
“We’re being thrifty and using my graduation drinks to also celebrate my job,” Finn said, offering a solution that allowed both women to be correct.
BB-8 bumped against the table leg from below, jostling the drinks on the table enough to get noticed, but not enough to spill them. It beeped its own well wishes at Finn, and wobbled, its lighter extended in a thumb’s-up.
“To Finn!” Poe agreed, joining in the toast. He brought his glass back to his mouth, and Rey quickly placed her hand under the bottom of it, preventing him from lowering it back down.
“Catch up! Catch up!” she coaxed.
Poe batted her hand away, and coughed, setting his now half-finished drink down. “Remind me not to show up late to these parties anymore,” he managed, shaking his head and coughing again.
“Yeah, why the tardiness today?” Rey asked. “Not that you’re usually Mr. Punctuality...”
“I was working on a new maneuver in one of the restored ARC-170s and totally lost track of the time.”
“That’s what we figured. But give us a call next time,” Rose said, pointing at the others. “These three were convinced you’d tried something more stupid than usual and smeared yourself across the landscape in that thing.”
“Give me a little credit, guys,” Poe said, rolling his eyes.
“Okay, then why didn’t you call?” Rey asked, nudging his drink closer as a hint.
Poe wrinkled his nose apologetically. “My communicator is dead. I fried it earlier this afternoon when I tried uncoupling the S foils… while the heat sink was still hot.”
“See, now that’s what we’re talking about--you tried to uncouple the S coils while--? You’re lucky you didn’t burn off your eyebrows and stop your heart in the process.” Rey admonished as he pulled his communicator from his pocket and tossed it like a lifeless rock onto the table. “And I suppose you want me to fix it,” Rey said, staring at the object. “Not that I can’t, but do you think I just walk around with spare parts and wire strippers in my pack?” she asked, reaching for the singed device.
Poe’s reflexes weren’t dulled by alcohol, so he snatched his communicator from the table before his friend could reach it. Raising an eyebrow, he curled the small piece of electronics in against his chest defensively. “Hey, I can fix it without your help,” he said, narrowing his eyes playfully. “You’re not the only one with technological talent around here, Rey.”
Rey leaned back and held up her hands. “Okay, okay, let’s see how you fare. Whenever you realize you’re in over your head, feel free to hand it over.”
Poe wrinkled his nose and gave a little shake of his head as if to say, won’t be necessary. With one hand he reached for his drink, while the other hand disappeared under the table and handed the communicator off to the droid at his knee.
“That’s cheating!” Rey yelped as Rose began to laugh.
“Thanks, buddy.” Poe winked at BB-8 who had already started zapping the electronics back to life.
“So, how does it feel to be official, with a degree and a job?” Rose asked, tilting her head to look sideways at Finn. With exaggerated self-deprecation she added, “I only ask because--despite being the last person to start your trades training by several years--you’re the only one who has achieved the distinction of actually having a job.”
“Rose, seriously, did you have to remind us all about that?” Poe asked, wrinkling his nose.
BB-8 beeped from the edge of the table, looking up momentarily from Poe’s device on the floor.
“Okay, yes, you’ve also got one, technically,” Rose corrected herself.
Finn took a sip of his drink and shook his head. “The only reason you three are all still in school is because you’re working on masters degrees. Or a doctorate!” he added, looking at Rose.
“Be that as it may,” Rey interrupted, “it’s still incredibly impressive that you’ve managed to graduate with full honors and win a Progression Award for your ideas in--in… Don’t tell me… in...?”
Finn let his friend struggle for a moment with an amused smile on his face before putting poor Rey out of her misery. “Sustainable Mimics and Fertilizer-Augmented Waste Management,” Finn supplied. Rey had never been able to remember the details of Finn’s chosen field of study.
“Yes--that--and secure an amazing job with the planet’s infrastructure department.” Rey grinned across the table, and Finn shifted somewhat awkwardly in his seat and attempted to brush off the compliments with a short, dismissive noise. “Honestly, I find your lack of faith in yourself disturbing! You’re incredible! And it’s high time you recognized that-- truly recognized that-- and push all you have to offer out into the galaxy for others’ lives to be improved by. Just the way you’ve brightened all of our lives so far. You’re an awesome human being, Finn, and we’re so lucky to have you in our lives. To Finn!” she finished with a flourish, and raised her glass, prompting the others to do the same.
BB-8 beeped and wiggled, surveying the empty glassware littering the table.
“No, not another round; if I have too many more, I won’t be able to find my way home,” Finn protested. “I’ll end up sleeping here at the Nunnery!”
“No, no--” Rey protested. “We’ve got you covered. Rose is very responsible when it comes to personal portion control, and BB-8’s not imbibing, so even though Poe and I will be completely useless to you by the end of the night, those two--” Rey pointed at the pair. “--will make sure you get home safe and sound.”
Not needing much in the way of convincing, Finn gave in. “Okay, okay… one more.”
“Nope, we are seeing you off into the world of functioning members of society with the full-octane stuff,” Rey said immediately, elbowing Poe to catch the togruta server behind him. “We need four Corellian ales here, and another basket of the Nubian flatcakes!” she called in the direction of the server, shouting above the increasing noise in the pub.
Before the order could be confirmed, Poe spun on his stool and caught the server with a smile. “I’m sorry,” he said, leaning toward her. “I’m sure my friend here meant to say please, but she was raised in a terribly backwards household, and we’re only just now beginning to civilize her.” Poe rolled his eyes and continued, “Doesn’t ask for things nicely; look at her--doesn’t even take her arm bracers off indoors--talks with her mouth full…” Poe’s smile grew as the server’s stressed frown slipped, and the corners of her lips began to turn up. “We’d love four Corellian ales when you get a chance, but there’s no rush, since we’re celebrating; we don’t want the party to end too early…”
With a nod and a genuine smile, the server disappeared back into the crowd.
“What, no number? No date? No invitation back to your place this evening?” Rey teased.
“We’re here for Finn tonight, Rey, I’m trying to not monopolize the attention,” Poe said with a self-satisfied smile, flicking Rey’s arm bracers to further drive home the point that sparring gear was not appropriate when out with friends. She swatted his hand away, but began unlacing and tugging them off.
“Do you realize your technique to win the server’s attention just now was based on insulting her female competition? You made her feel good by tearing down Rey.” Rose wrinkled her nose disapprovingly. “Not the best method.”
Poe cut his eyes toward Rose, staring at her for a brief second before his face relaxed into a confident, easy grin. “No: I won her over by insulting the patron who had been rude to her. Rey is not her competition.”
Rey pretended to be affronted by her friend’s casual dismissal of her potential viability as an object to be flirted with. “I could be competition!” she insisted, crossing her arms over her chest and feigning a pout.
“Nope. No competition. Not even a fair fight.” Before Rey could respond, Poe powered on, “And if I change my mind later, I know where she works,” Poe added, gesturing around them. “If I decide I want a date, I’ll just come back and ask her then.”
“Ugh, you are such an egotistical flirt,” Rey groaned, rolling her eyes.
“Is there a problem with that?” Poe asked.
“Well...you could be a bit more selective,” Rose suggested. When Poe raised his eyebrows questioningly, she continued, “It’s just that it’s hard to take you seriously when you flirt so shamelessly with everyone. Basically anything that moves. And even then, I think you would bend that rule and turn your charms on an inflatable toy blurrg if that was the only thing in the room and you were bored.”
BB-8 nodded enthusiastically while explaining that something similar had happened at a Wookie party last year.
“Oh, come on!” Poe kicked at the droid, but it had already rolled out of reach, bumping into another patron at a neighboring table. Poe shouted a hasty apology at the glaring twi’lek as BB-8 scooted back to the group. Returning his attention to Rey and Rose, Poe said primly, “I take offense to that, ladies. My standards are much higher than ‘anything that moves.’ By your estimation, that would include transports, Ben Solo, and that little plastic drinking porg in a top hat that sits on Rey’s desk.”
“Oh--no--no, wait, uh-uh…” Rose suddenly pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes as if trying to push out an image. “Now I’m imagining Ben trying to flirt,” she said with dismay.
This was met by a rousing chorus of laughter and horror, followed by several impressions of what an amorous Ben might entail, the most successful of which was performed by his adopted brother.
“Good evening,” Finn said, barely suppressing a smile as he pretended to greet Rey with a comically deepened voice, moving around Poe toward her. “My name is Ben Solo, and I think you’re attractive. You seem ambitious and without empathy, which is exactly what I look for in a lover, because it reminds me of me. I saw you here last week, and after a brief temper tantrum, I used my security clearance to run facial recognition on you. I’ve tracked you down--” Amid snorts of laughter, Finn extended a stiff hand toward Rey and cupped her cheek awkwardly as he stepped closer. “--so that we might rule the galaxy together, dressed all in black and wearing matching sour expressions.”
“Uggghh!” Rey gave a shudder and squeezed her eyes closed. “Ew, I feel dirty. Do they have shower stalls in the refreshers here?” she cried desperately, swatting Finn’s hand away. Finn moved to return to his seat on the other side of the table, but Rey linked arms with him and scooted over, pulling Finn close enough to share her wide stool.
“That was good, Finn,” Poe admitted, “but I think Ben would use more four- and five-syllable words to really turn a lady on--”
“People do seem to underestimate the seductive power of a good vocabulary.” The deep voice startled the group at the table, and everyone looked up in surprise to see Ben standing several steps away, easily missed in the dim lighting and thick crowd of the pub.
“Kriff,” Rey said flatly, not bothering to hide that she obviously thought the quality of their little party had just taken a nosedive.
Poe was the first to recover, smoothly stating, “I don’t underestimate it. In fact, I myself have been accused of circumlocution on occasion.”
“Well, that’s a big word,” Rose said quickly, thoroughly grateful for the conversational distraction as Finn slid off of Rey’s stool to greet his big brother, clasping his offered forearm.
BB-8 whistled suggestively, joining in.
“That’s not what the word means, buddy, but I’m also not going to deny that,” Poe agreed, puffing up his chest proudly. “I know lots of big words. In fact, I don’t mean to brag, but some have even said that the size of my--”
“No, no--” Rey cut him off. “Whatever you’re going to say? Don’t. I don’t want to hear some thinly veiled double entendre that demonstrates just how witty you are,” she explained, turning from the table toward the new member of their party. “Ben! It’s been too long. I see you’re still adept at sneaking up on people in an incredibly creepy way?”
Rey didn’t budge from her seat, refusing to physically greet him the way the rest of her party had. Rey and Ben had never gotten along, and Finn was usually the only reason they tolerated each other. Rey loved life, and the pursuit of knowledge, and the thousand beautiful things and possibilities that popped into her head at any given moment during the day, and she found Ben to be incredibly harsh and depressing, not to mention prone to unpredictability and on more than one occasion, downright violence. He seemed to be an intolerable mix of ambition and pessimism, and Rey didn’t agree with his politics or his methods. It was like he simultaneously believed that anything could be achieved with hard work and perseverance, and also that the average person was too stupid, lazy, and undisciplined to achieve anything. Several years ago after an argument Finn was present for but refused to talk about, Leia had thrown Ben out of the house, and the two hadn’t spoken for years. Worse still, he never seemed to feel a moment’s remorse about whatever he’d said to cause the estrangement.
Rey hated that Ben didn’t see what a wonderful mother he had. Leia Organa was the perfect parent as far as Rey was concerned, and yet Ben seemed to only have disappointment--bordering on contempt--for her. He’d never bothered to hide the fact that he considered General Organa’s peace keeping appointment in the military to be an embarrassing waste of family talent. Leia was a constant source of level-headed diplomacy in the higher echelons of the planet’s government, but her son seemed staunchly opposed to being proud of his mother.
And disrespecting Leia was something Rey had never been able to abide.
Ben nodded a silent greeting at Rose and ignored BB-8 before turning to Poe. “Dameron.” Ben offered his hand. Poe’s jaw clenched slightly at the awkward formality, and there was a moment’s hesitation before he reached out and accepted the handshake.
“You know, your dedication to calling me by my last name over the years would be admirable if it weren’t so annoying,” he pointed out.
Ben frowned. “You’re going to be a pilot--people are going to refer to you by your last name for the rest of your life.”
“We’re at a bar; do you ever unclench your--?” Rey’s mumbled response was cut short as Rose kicked her under the table.
BB-8 raised Poe’s repaired communicator to place it on the table next to him as the togruta server reappeared, carrying a large tray of chilled Corellian ales.
Rey cleared her throat and started over, passing the drinks around the table. “--I propose yet another toast--!”
“This is the fourth one!” Finn lamented, slightly embarrassed at the constant speeches in his honor. He accepted the ale Rey handed to him while BB-8 suggested Ben help Poe with his drink backlog, since Rey hadn’t ordered enough to include the new addition to their party. Ben grabbed one of the drinks stacked in front of Poe without glancing at the droid. Rey glared at him.
“--another toast--” Rey repeated, her voice increasing in volume and a smile reappearing on her face, “--to the newest member of the planet’s work force, the sweetest person I know, and one hell of a friend… Finn!”
A resounding chorus of various shouted congratulations erupted from the table as the cocktails were held aloft and clinked over the center of the table.
Finn grinned as he took a generous swallow of his drink and set it down decisively on the table. “I’ll be right back,” he announced.
“No! Where are you going?” Rey asked, winding one arm around Finn’s waist and tugging him back onto their previously shared stool. “This is your party--there’s no way I’m letting you up. The last time you did this you tried to buy a round for all of us, and that’s not going to happen tonight.”
“My bladder kindly requests you let me leave the table,” Finn explained, raising an eyebrow. “I’ll be right back--no funny business, I promise.”
“Oh, okay, fine,” Rey grumbled, teasing. “I guess if you have to…” Finn was released, and he made a beeline for the back of the dark pub.
The Nunnery wasn’t the only bar in town, but it was certainly the most interesting, and the most expensive. Owned by one of the best droid manufacturers on the planet, it was originally operated exclusively by a team of N-0N3s, squat, sleek machines whose black and white paneling reminded most people of the habits worn by the devotees of an old local religion. The building itself had been one of their places of worship prior to technology and convenience bleeding away most of the followers over the centuries. The walls were old, worn stone, with steep, curved struts that climbed alongside the towers on top. The stained glass windows made rainbows dance on the walls if the suns hit them at the right angle in the afternoon, and the mix of hanging lanterns, candelabras, and chandeliers made for a dim, ancient atmosphere at night that was like nowhere else in the city. The standard lighting in most other structures was tested, and uniform, and optimal, and the gloom of the Nunnery was delightfully mysterious.
After initial reviews that the Bar N-0N3 (the official name on the marquee) was too sterile and devoid of character, the owners hired people to fill out half the staff to give the establishment a slightly more personal touch. The other half of the work force remained the original droids, and the nickname of “nunnery” stuck with a lot of the locals.
Finn pushed the door of the fresher open when he was done and ran straight into his big brother.
“Hey--look where you’re going--” Finn stepped back from the broad chest he’d collided with and looked up as Ben reached out a steadying hand to keep Finn from toppling.
Ben looked down at his brother seriously. “Your infatuation with Rey needs to end. Now.”
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