Work Text:
“My droid is not a pet!”
Upon hearing Poe’s angry declaration, Rey picked up her pace, practically running down the hall toward their apartment. When she came around the corner she found her guys squaring off with their landlady, Miss Captain. The hulking female was frowning down at Finn, who had latched a restraining arm around Poe’s shoulders.
“What’s the problem?” The three turned to her as she stepped up beside her roommates.
“She wants to charge us a fee for having BB-8,” Finn explained.
“She called him a pet, Rey, can you believe it?” Poe demanded at the same moment.
“You can’t do that,” Rey said, her hands instantly crossed over her chest and matching the scowl the hardheaded beast of a woman was leveling at them. “BB-8 is not a cat. He’s a droid.”
“I don’t care what you call the thing, it’s going to cost you extra!” She stormed off as Poe screamed after her, “THING?!”
He spun to face Rey and Finn finally released him. “Did she seriously just call BB-8 a thing?”
As if on cue, the small beach ball shaped droid appeared in the doorway and make several soft, placating sounds at his master.
“I know, I know, don’t throw the landlady in the trash compacter or we lose the apartment.”
“Or, you know, go to jail, because that would be murder!” Finn tacked on, throwing his arms into the air for emphasis as they followed BB-8 into their apartment.
“Says the guy who we met after he ran away from a gang,” Rey flashed him a playful grin as she made her way into the kitchen in search of a drink.
“I never killed anyone. I left so I wouldn’t have to, you know that.” Rey nodded. As she took a beer from the fridge, she held one out and arched her brow at him. Finn lifted his hands and she tossed him one.
“Poe?”
“Hmm?” he muttered distractedly as he dropped down in front of his computer either intending to google how to protect a droid’s rights or how to murder the landlady. Rey wasn’t sure which. “Beer?”
“Yeah.” She tossed a second one to Finn, who took it over to him.
“What’re you doing over there?”
Rey left the kitchenette and crossed the living room to drop down on the arm of the couch beside Finn who was peering curiously over Poe’s shoulder. BB-8 was rolling anxiously across the wood floor at the mouth of the hallway.
“I’m trying to find out what if any rights droids have in California.”
“Ah, so not how to clean blood out of a trash compactor?”
“That’s in the other tab.”