34 ABY

It would be a crime not to be outside on an evening like this, Poe Dameron thought to himself. The air on D'Qar was not as humid as usual, the breeze warm and flower-scented. It reminded him of his homeworld of Yavin IV. So he left the safety of the Resistance base and wandered out towards his favorite spot in the jungle. He stopped short when he reached the clearing—his clearing, his spot—because an interloper was occupying it.

"Hi," he greeted. "You're on my log."

The young woman turned around, eyebrows raised. He recognized Rey, the scavenger turned Jedi apprentice. Finn's friend. "Your log?" She didn't look particularly concerned about her annexation of his meditation spot. She pursed her lips and patted the free space next to her. "There's room for two."

He accepted the invitation, sitting at what he hoped was a friendly but polite distance. "I come here to look at the stars sometimes," he said, just to fill the silence.

Rey nodded and looked up. "I used to do that a lot. But the stars are strange here." She paused. "I mean, they look different from here. I mean, not really different, they're still just stars, like all stars are stars, but their positions are different. At least, to me," she ended awkwardly.

Poe scanned the heavens, ignoring her apparent nervousness. "Well, the Western Reaches are over there," he pointed, "if you're looking for Jakku's neighbors. You can't see them from here, though."

She stared at that part of the sky, then shook her head. "It doesn't help. They're still all wrong."

"Yeah, wrong angle, I guess," he agreed easily. He looked sideways at her. "You lived your whole life on Jakku?"

She glanced back at him cautiously. "Since I was five."

"What did you…do there? I mean, when you weren't scavenging ships. What did you do for fun?"

Surprised by the question, she was mute for a few moments.

"If you'd rather not talk about it," Poe said hurriedly, "we can—"

"No, it's fine," she interrupted. "But I didn't really do anything for fun. I slept. I tried to fix the parts I'd found, because I'd earn more if they worked. And I…" she trailed off, shrugged. She looked at Poe again, as if gauging whether or not to trust him with anything personal. He met her gaze. She has really beautiful eyes, he thought. Brown from a distance, but almost green close up.

"I found a crashed X-wing when I was nine," she said suddenly, ending Poe's train of thought. "I buried the pilot, but kept her helmet and flight suit. I made a doll for myself out of a bit of the orange material. So I played with that doll a lot. Talked to her, you know," she smiled shyly.

"You found an X-wing…where? In the desert?" Immediately, Poe regretted the stupid question.

She furrowed her brow. "Yeah, in the desert. The whole planet is a desert." She spoke lightly, like she was trying not to patronize him. She almost succeeded. Changing the subject, she stretched her arms over her head, cracking her shoulder joints. "This log isn't that comfortable after a while."

"Yeah, I usually sit on the ground when I reach that point." He moved down to the cool earth, leaning his back against the log. He removed his jacket and offered it to her. "You look cold."

"I'm always cold here." Belatedly, she added, "Thank you." It pleased Poe to see her wearing his flight jacket; he didn't analyze why. She sat down next to him, snuggling a little closer than on the log. That fact pleased Poe more than wearing the jacket did.

"So what did you do with the helmet? You said you saved the pilot's helmet."

She gave him a sheepish smile. "I used to eat outside, in the desert"-she emphasized the word—"in front of my AT-AT. And after dinner, I'd put the helmet on and imagine places where the pilot might have flown."

Poe mulled that over. She had some creativity, then. But what a lonely existence, just her and a doll and a dead Rebel's helmet. He didn't mention any of that. "You owned an AT-AT?"

She smiled. "An old abandoned wreck of one, from the Battle of Jakku. It was my…home."

"Did you live in the legs or the head part?" He was trying to picture an Imperial Walker's size.

"The belly."

"How did you get up into its belly every day? You rappelled?"

She laughed despite herself. "It was on its side. I just walked in." She mimicked a tipped-over AT-AT with her forearm.

"Oh," Poe said. "Sorry, I'm usually not such an idiot," he muttered. She still wore a wide, toothy grin. Her nose crinkled slightly when she smiled. She had two freckles on her neck. Her teeth were straight. Her lips looked soft. Poe forced himself to drag his gaze away from her face before he got too obvious.

"I did something else for fun, too," she said reflectively. "That pilot, she had a flight simulator on board. A working one. I ran sims every evening, to teach myself how to fly."

The mention of flying caught Poe's attention enough to get his mind off of Rey's beautiful face. "Ooh. What kind of ships?"

"All sorts, really. Fighters, supply ships, freighters, even Corellian Corvettes."

The conversation flowed much more easily once the topic was ships. They debated the relative merits of X-wings and TIE Fighters, B-wings and Naboo N-1s, until nightfall. While walking back to the base, Poe offered, "If you'd like to fly a real X-wing, I'll take you up in my T-70."

She stopped walking and stared at him.

"I mean, if you want," he added, uncertain if she was offended or intrigued by the idea.

She broke into that grin again, the one that made Poe forget what the topic was. "I'd love that," she gushed. "Tomorrow, then?"

"Yeah, sure. After the morning briefing." Then he realized: Did I just ask her on a date?

Did he just ask me on a date? Rey thought to herself, then dismissed the notion. He was a pilot, she wanted to learn to fly, that's all there was to it. She needed a teacher. Kylo Ren's words echoed in her head; he'd told her that same thing on Starkiller Base. She pushed that thought away too. She'd rather concentrate on Poe Dameron than Kylo Ren, anyway.

She showed up in the hanger promptly at 0930. Poe was already there, in his orange flight suit, hair messy as always. He smiled easily when he saw her. "Hey," he waved.

"Good morning," she said cheerfully. "Reporting for my lesson, Commander."

"Okay, so, you need to get used to the cockpit. Come on up." She scaled the small ladder into his black-matte X-wing. The chair was more comfortable than she'd imagined.

"I guess I'll just stand on the ladder." He leaned over her and explained each of the controls one by one, including the correct start-up sequence.

"I know all this," Rey cut in. "I've been practicing it for ten years." Master Luke would scold me for my impatience, she thought. It was her worst fault as a would-be Jedi.

"On a T-65, not a 70. The newer model is a little different."

She gave him an indulgent look. "I think I've got it."

"Okay, then. Hold on a sec." He descended the ladder, then came back with a blue and white helmet. He smiled. "Look familiar?"

"Mine had yellow markings," she murmured.

"Ah. Well, get out for a minute, and let me in."

"I don't get to pilot her?" Rey stuck her lower lip out unhappily as she climbed out of the ship.

Poe grinned. "Are you pouting? You're pouting."

"I am not pouting at all," she protested. "Just…I thought I'd fly."

"This is my baby. You can fly her, but I'm comin' with you." He settled into the cockpit and patted his thighs. "You should sit on my lap," Poe said hesitatingly. "There's not really room for two to sit side by side."

Rey frowned, then complied, settling herself on his legs. She was very aware of the warmth radiating from his body—or hers?—and hoped that space was cold enough to keep her from sweating. His breath was on her neck, his arms very loosely around her sides. "Am I…squishing you?"

Poe shook his head. "You're light as a feather. Helmet on, close the canopy, and turn her on." He sounded detached, professional. She tried to match his tone and concentrate on flying. After all, Rey had wanted to pilot a snub fighter like this since she was little, and was truly excited by this chance; she just had never imagined the opportunity would present itself with an impossibly handsome pilot underneath her.

They spent the next twenty minutes in the air, not straying too far from D'Qar. Rey forgot about Poe's proximity as soon as she was in the blackness of space. She thoroughly enjoyed the freedom of flight and the satisfaction of mastering a beautiful machine. To his credit, Poe quickly realized she did truly know what she was doing, and let her have control, only occasionally making suggestions and adjustments.

The landing was a little bumpy—she'd have to work on take-offs and landings, Poe ordered mildly—but Rey felt elated. She opened the canopy, took off the helmet and gifted him with an ear-splitting grin. "That was stellar!" she exclaimed. "I have got to get one of these." She didn't move off his lap, but half-turned to look at him. Her expression grew more serious. "Thank you. This was one of the best experiences of my entire life." She looked straight at him. His eyes were the color of the hot chocolate General Organa made for her.

Poe looked blown away by her admission. "The best…? Rey, we can go flying any time you want. Unless I'm on a mission. Or we're under attack. Or something," he stumbled. That smile again—it was distracting. Her exotic eyes didn't help matters, either. And she was still on his lap, her left hip pressing into his thigh as she twisted around to look at him. Finn's, not yours, he told himself firmly. Finn. Your friend.

Rey sensed his sudden jumble of emotions. He was biting his lip, staring at her face, and she wasn't sure what to make of that. She felt herself begin to blush. So she lifted herself out of the cockpit, scrambling down the ladder as elegantly as she could manage. He followed.

"It's not like flying a snub fighter," she said casually as they walked back towards the base, "but if you'd like to try out a bigger bird, we could go up in the Millennium Falcon."

She glanced at him. His mouth was hanging open, jaw slack. She smiled at the view.

"What?" Poe breathed.

"If you want. Sometime. General Organa sort of gave her to me. She's a really interesting ship to fly, very quirky, but just about as responsive as an X-wing. And," she added with a smirk, "you could have your own seat."

"The Falcon?" he repeated dumbly.

"You've heard of her, haven't you?"

"Of course I've heard of the Millennium Falcon! It's…history," he sputtered.

"So you want to fly her?"

Poe looked at Rey, this time without a trace of flirtation. Now he was all business. He spoke quickly, in little starbursts. "Oh, hell yes. Absolutely yes. Emphatically yes. Whenever you want. Right now. Middle of the night. During an alien invasion. I really don't care."

She tilted her head in amusement, charmed by his sense of humor. "I've got to go check in with Master Luke now. I've got training. Soon, though?"

He bobbed his head up and down like a little boy. "Great." He watched her walk away, then called out as an afterthought, "It was nice flying with you, Rey."

She turned back and gave him a small smile. "You, too." She looked at the ground, then back up at him. "Thank you for the chance." Then she resumed her walk out of the hanger.

Poe felt suddenly, unpleasantly alone. He realized he still craved her company, an unfamiliar sensation for him. Impulsively, he ran back to the T-70's cockpit, retrieved Rey's flight helmet, and jogged to catch up with her. "Wait a sec," he called to her, handing her the helmet. "For later," he said earnestly. She seemed to look right through him, eyes very focused on his face. He stumbled through an explanation. "In case you want to, you know, imagine anyone. Anything, I mean. Like space. Or piloting. Or the stars around Jakku."

Rey grinned, accepting the gift with a nod and ignoring his slip of the tongue. "Thanks. Again."

As she once again turned away from him to go find Master Skywalker, Poe rolled his eyes at his own gawkiness. "Get a grip on yourself, Dameron," he muttered. They were in the middle of a war, she was training to be a probably-celibate Jedi Knight, and his good friend Finn had a serious crush on her. Three very good reasons, he admonished himself, to keep his mind off of Rey.

He just hoped he could remember those three reasons the next time she was near him.