Author's note

So like the rest of the world I recently saw the new Star Wars film. Loved it. How this pairing came into my life, however, is rather hilarious. Before I even saw the film I was buying merchandise of Kylo and Phasma for their designs and I jokingly stated that they might become my OTP. Well: the joke's on me. I ship them HARD. Those familiar with my work will not be surprised that it's fluff. Basically: think romantic comedy in space. That's essentially going to be my theme with these two and I intend to work with them for a while. It's been some time since I've had a new pairing grip me like this.

Enjoy the fic!

It Is What It Is

There were few things that Captain Phasma hated more than a med bay.

Every base was required to have one, and she fully understood the purpose of it (particularly when there was a wildfire named Kylo Ren on board), but it didn't change the fact that she found the place entirely irritating.

For one thing, the beeping and whirring of the medidroids that were assigned there to help proved very annoying. For another; she felt positively naked despite the robe that had been given to her after the shower that she had gratefully agreed to take before she was attended to.

She always felt very exposed when not wearing her armor, and the chill in the air did not help matters as her hair was still damp.

She bit the inside of her cheek to prevent a wince from forming on her stern yet striking features as her broken arm was set. The key to being a competent leader, she found, was on those rare occasions where she was seen un-masked she would show as little emotion as possible.

Her shoulders sagged in relief when the medidroid moved off, but any chance she might have had at peace and quiet was soon interrupted when the doors to the bay whooshed open, revealing an irate Kylo Ren.

He looked positively furious, and his handsome face was now marred by a livid burn.

He stalked forward, and, as luck would have it, took a seat upon the gurney straight across from hers.

Self-consciously, she adjusted her robe so that it covered a bit more of her, and then offered a curt nod in greeting while trying not to squirm as her arm was put in a sling. Despite the advances in medicine that had been made over the years, certain practices were still kept, such as refraining from putting additional pressure and strain on the limb.

Kylo stared straight ahead, the expression in his wide, dark eyes unreadable. She wondered if he had even acknowledged she was there, but got her answer when he suddenly spoke. "How'd that happen?"

She blinked, surprised. "Pardon, sir?"

"Your arm," he gestured, turning his head a fraction so that his gaze held hers. "You appear to have broken it. How?"

She felt her face flush. The story was so embarrassing that she was sure she'd never hear the end of it if she told him. "I'd rather not say, sir."

"Phasma... we're both injured right now. I fail to see a need to stand on formal ceremony," he took the few moments needed to discard his jacket, and then peeled his undershirt up over his head.

The heat on her cheeks increased as she couldn't help staring at the lithely muscled torso that was now revealed, though she reckoned the reason why was the gash across his side that needed mending.

Get it together woman... not only is he your superior but he is YOUNGER THAN YOU. She mentally chided herself for ogling, though it was pretty much impossible not to do so. She noticed that there some additional battle-scars on his chest, and wondered what the story behind those were.

He seemed tickled by the way her discomfort had morphed into rapt attention and leaned forward, his full lips forming into a cheeky grin. "Come on Captain... enlighten me."

There was only so much one could take of that particular look, and, sighing, she reclined back on her gurney and told the story in what she hoped was the least embarrassing manner possible.

If his raucous laughter after she was done was any indication, she had failed horribly in her task.

"Let me get this straight," Kylo leaned back once a Droid had finished applying ointment to both of his wounds. "You were attacked by a Wookie, forced by the traitor to lower the shields, and then thrown into the trash compactor, which is how you broke your arm?"

"You were bested by a woman; you have no right to judge."

There was a frustrated growl from her companion.

Phasma smirked, unable to resist rubbing it in. "A woman whom, you've made quite clear, has no training."

"Divulge that particular bit of information Phasma, and I'll crush you in the compactor myself."

The smirk twisted. "Try it and I'll be back to haunt you."

"You know, only those with the strongest powers of the force can speak to the living once they're dead." He informed.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll find a way."

His expression turned into something between amusement and pride. "That eager to stay by my side, are you?"

At this: she felt the oncoming of a blush again, and pretended to be absorbed by something on the floor. "Well someone has to keep you in check."

He tilted his head, observing her. He had only seen her without her mask a few times, and it was the first he had seen her without her signature, chrome-plated armor. In fact it was the first time he had seen her revealing quite so much of the tall, athletic form that she normally hid. His gaze trailed over her incredibly long legs, then moved upwards until it fell on her face.

He had to admit that the woman before him was quite beautiful in her own way, with her soft-looking, short, pale-blond hair and bright blue eyes. His heart began to beat a little faster in his chest.

She finally looked back at him, gazes locking as they debated on what to say next.

Just as he was about to ask her how long they were likely to be kept in the medical bay, another medidroid came by with a fresh set of clothes for Phasma, and told them that they were free to go. It warned her not to put additional strain on her arm for a few days and told Kylo that he should reapply the healing ointment to his wounds every few hours.

She pulled a curtain around her gurney for modesty, and sighed heavily when she realized that she had been given a skirt that would definitely be shorter than normal thanks to her height. The jacket and top were pretty form-fitting too, but at least it was better than a robe that she constantly had to adjust so she wasn't flashing anybody.

Kylo busied himself with putting his shirt back on, but didn't bother with the coat. He waited patiently until Phasma drew back the curtain and then asked: "Are you as hungry as I am?"

"Yeah, I could eat." she nodded and quickly sent instructions to have her armor picked up, polished, and then sent back to her private quarters. "I trust you know your way to the commissary by now?"

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I was only lost around here the first few days, and yet you STILL won't let me live it down will you?"

"Never," she chuckled.

They fell into more playful banter as they walked through the corridors of the base, ignorant of the fact that many of the young Stormtroopers under Phasma's command would stop and stare behind their masks at the unusual site of their Captain without her armor, actually enjoying Kylo's company.

Once they reached the commissary, they chose their meals, and the conversed quietly while they dined. Once they were both full, he offered to walk her back to her quarters.

Though she protested politely at first, she accepted when he insisted upon it.

The journey back to the Stormtrooper Captain's room was slightly awkward. It felt, in a strange way, like she was being escorted home from a date. In fact if they wanted to get technical about it: dinner together counted as one.

She glanced at his profile as they continued on their way, taking in his angular features, privately wondering if his lips were as soft as they appeared.

She swallowed hard when he caught her staring, his dark eyes questioning. "Are you all right? You've been so quiet since we left the dining hall."

That's because I'm mentally contemplating what it'd be like to kiss you.

Suddenly: Kylo stopped in his tracks. "….what?"

"What?" she parroted, halting as well, confused by his reaction.

He abruptly grabbed her arm, and steered her towards an alcove where they wouldn't be seen by anyone passing by.

It was quite a small space, and Phasma gulped when he met her gaze again. "How long have you felt that way?"

She furrowed her eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"

"You just thought…" he realized that he let it slip that he had read her thoughts and flushed slightly. "I'm so sorry, that honestly wasn't intentional but…I heard you."

She turned a rather interesting shade of red. "Oh god…Sir, I..."

He placed his fingers lightly over her lips. "Don't. Don't you dare apologize!"

Her color deepened, especially when his fingertips brushed slowly over her lower lip and his eyes bore into hers.

The silence stretched between them until, throwing caution to the wind, Kylo's hands found their way into her hair and he tugged her forward so that their lips met.

The kiss was far gentler than she would have initially expected, but there was still an underlying current of passion that sent sparks coursing up her spine.

She leaned into the embrace, her arms draping over his shoulders as she took a chance and deepened it.

Apparently it was the right move, as it managed to break something in them both, and the next thing Phasma knew: she was being pressed up against the nearest wall, her long legs wrapping around his slender waist as he hoisted her up in his arms.

Her fingers delved into the thick waves of his hair, punctuating her attentions with teasing bites, delighting at the low moan that escaped him.

Eventually they pulled back for air, chests heaving as they attempted to regain composure.

He took in the alluring picture she made: her lips still parted, features flushed and blue eyes bright from the impromptu make-out session.

A warm smile spread across his face and he leaned back in to touch his forehead against hers.

Sighing, she closed her eyes and nuzzled his nose with hers before murmuring. "Now what?"

"I have no idea," he admitted, laughing quietly while he set her back on her feet. "I haven't really had much experience with this sort of thing. You?"

"None," she confessed.

"I suppose that puts us in the same boat, so to speak," he didn't sound phased, however, and his next move was to entwine their fingers together and draw her hand up to his lips.

Her breath caught when he kissed her palm lightly. "Well…if we count the dinner we just had as our first date, my quarters are just around the next corner. I suppose I could invite you in. I recently confiscated some old Earth films and I have coffee."

"I like that idea," he smirked, his eyes glimmering with a mischief that suited him. "Especially if it means I get to stare at you wearing this outfit for a while longer…and perhaps," he trailed a finger slowly up her uninjured arm, "later, you'll let me help you out of it."

"You're going to be no end of trouble for me, Kylo Ren," she shook her head, but given the glint of humor in her eyes, he knew she wasn't entirely adverse to the idea.

He leaned in for one more kiss, which she gladly returned, and then they headed back to her room, where whatever occurred between them could be explored with proper privacy.

The End