They'd been on the planet for months and Rey was still enthralled by it. Lush and loud, it was alive with fertile floodplains and bustling cities, swaying grasslands and serpentine veins of rivers that plunged through dense forests.

The Resistance base was tucked away, closer to the mountain peaks that marked undeveloped wilderness. Most importantly, it was a safe distance from the capital city where they were connecting with a growing Resistance faction. Occupying an abandoned Republic-era fortress that reached deep into a rocky hillside, only a scattering of camouflaged tents gave any indication that the Resistance was there.

It was a surprise, then, when a tall, lone figure appeared one night, hands raised above their head to show they were unarmed, baggy shirt flapping in the midnight breeze.

The bigger surprise came when they pointed their blaster rifles and flashlights at him and immediately recognized the Supreme Leader.

People were incredibly wary of him. Understandably. If he moved through a hall, they ducked into another room or pretended that they'd forgotten something so they could turn around.

If it bothered him, he didn't show it.

A single strongly-worded announcement from General Organa and everybody knew that if they had a problem with him being there, they could speak to her privately- an offer that Finn and Poe had repeatedly taken her up on, resulting in the most tense ceasefire Rey had ever seen.

Once, the general had entered a room and caught the tail-end of angry whispers about how he was a double agent waiting until he'd gained their trust to strike. The room fell silent and her eyes had flashed with unhidden ferocity.

For her part, Rey had avoided him almost entirely. A shadow brushing past in the corner of her eye. She understood the basics of the situation: he had defected. His tactical knowledge of the First Order's operations was essential; keeping a low profile allowed the Resistance to maintain their new advantage for as long as possible. He hadn't said a word to Rey since he'd gotten there, nearly a week ago.

The Force was still trying to connect them, even when they were in the same briefing meeting. Every time, one or both of them had successfully blocked it.

One night, Rey was up later than usual. Sometimes she got restless, still unused to so much light in her sleeping quarters: little blinking dots, and the ambient gleam along the floor meant to guide people to the refresher. The nights on Jakku had been absolute and, as much as her mind had wandered, the darkness had always won out.

But there were so many distractions here. Datapads. The steady beeping of surveillance droids patrolling the base. Food, just waiting for her in the empty kitchen.

Her stomach growled. She was sleepy, but hunger was a sharper, less pleasant sensation. Rey climbed noiselessly out of her bunk and grabbed a clean overwrap to drape over her bare shoulders. Padding barefoot out of the room and into the hallway, her feet made a soft thumping sound against the cool metal floor.

The mess hall was on the other side of the base, the small kitchen attached to it. There were always some leftovers to be found. Rey made her way through the corridors, being particularly quiet when she passed bunk rooms. When she reached the door to the kitchen, she froze.

Through the narrow, frosted window of the durasteel door, she could see the warm glow of the overhead kitchen lights.

Rey thought about turning back. She didn't like running into people when she didn't expect it. Whoever it was, she'd give a little nod and grab the first portable thing she saw, and eat on the way back to her room. She'd imagined a more leisurely snack, but that would have to do.

She took a few determined steps and the door swished open.

The large form was unmistakable and she felt her stomach do an involuntary flip. He didn't turn around, focused instead on mixing something in a large, white bowl on the counter.

Even though Ben couldn't see her and he didn't seem at all startled, Rey held up a hand as if to assuage him.

"I'm just going to get something and I'll leave," she told his back. She felt strangely intrusive, like she was imposing even though he was in a communal space. It was an intimate scene, the ordinariness of it a discordant note in a tune she thought she knew.

Ben shrugged without facing her.

"You can stay," he said. She'd almost forgotten the sound of his voice, the way he said each word like it was enough. He kept stirring.

Instead of answering, Rey opened the storage cabinet. Her eyes landed on an almost-empty canister of crunchy, salty squares that she didn't know the name of but really liked. She took it and sat on a stool by the island in the middle of the kitchen. She shook some of the puffy cubes into her hand and bit down on one with a audible snap.

Ben gave a quick glance over his shoulder as he worked.

"My mom loves those," he told her and it was so natural that she almost didn't notice his word choice.

Rey hummed in agreement, holding one up to the light and watching the way the fine salt crystals glinted. That explained why they never ran out.

"They're great," she said.

They had a million things to talk about but somehow this seemed like the correct thing to do- mundane and peaceful. As she watched, she realized that his confident, fluid movements came from experience.

"I didn't expect..." She gestured at the room, at him. "This."

He looked over at her and she was suddenly aware of her tousled hair and the thinness of her overwrap.

"It's a kitchen." Defensive.

"Everyone's asleep," Rey pointed out. Although maybe that was why he was there in the middle of the night. He'd definitely been avoiding the mess hall.

"Not you."

"I'm hungry," she shot back, cupping her snacks protectively in her hand, like he might take them.

"Me too."

She considered that as something sizzled in a shallow pan on the nanowave stove. He reached over and gripped the handle, giving it a quick shake and a flick, easily flipping the contents. It reminded her of someone, tugging at a vague memory before she could pinpoint it. That easy sureness, dripping with physicality, was all Han.

"It smells good," Rey said finally, craning her neck to take a peek at the purple slivers in the pan. She was still surprised by the sheer variety of things grown on the planet and, truthfully, didn't know what most of them were. Whatever it was, it smelled savory and delicate and delicious.

Ben's shoulders visibly relaxed.

"Thanks." He paused, then finally turned around to face her. "Actually, could I have some of those? This is taking longer than I expected."

Rey rattled the open canister and slid it over to his side of the island.

Ben wiped his hands on a white cloth before whipping it absently to drape over his shoulder as he moved over to her. He was careful to avoid meeting her eyes as he tipped a generous helping into his palm. He popped a few in his mouth and leaned against the counter. His hair was all glossy dark waves.

"You've been blocking it. When the Force connects us," Rey said abruptly.

"You too."

It was true and it shouldn't have hurt to see how resigned he looked.

"I wouldn't know what to say," she admitted.

He made a sound that might have been a laugh if he hadn't bitten it off.

"Anything," he told her, then paused, pensive while he chewed. "Nothing," he finished.

Loneliness wove around the words and Rey crunched through another square so she didn't have to respond for a while. He seemed tired, but not in that worn-down, wrung-out way he had before. She wanted to reach out and give his arm a comforting squeeze. The urge startled her and she shoved it down.

"Yes, I'm sure the Force is connecting us so we can blink at each other from four rooms away," she said dryly instead.

He pushed off from the counter, brushing his hands together as he returned to the stove.

"I thought it would stop, when we were always close," he admitted.

"Ah, so that's why you're here." Rey leaned in conspiratorially, grinning. "Everybody thinks you're a spy, but you really just wanted an uninterrupted night's sleep."

He dumped a bright orange liquid into the pan.

"I never minded it," he told her while he carried the empty bowl to the sink. "I assumed it bothered you, so I started to block it too."

Rey let the implied question go unanswered. Did it bother her? It was strange and intrusive but, truthfully, it was one of the less frustrating things the Force had done along the winding trail of her life so far. And speaking of winding trails...

"Why did you come here?"

"Lots of reasons." He said it with finality, like it was the end of that conversation, so Rey let it be. As much as she wanted to keep digging, she moved on.

"Do you do this every night?" she asked.

The look he gave her. Up and down and back up, before locking onto her face.

"I could."

Turning back to the stove, Ben gave the pan another shake and she couldn't help but notice the way it made his shoulders move underneath his shirt.

Still watching, Rey dumped the last of the crackers into her mouth, only tearing her eyes away long enough to tap the bottom of the canister for crumbs. She climbed down from her chair to wash the container at the sink, the clean-scented soap foaming over her hands. As she rinsed it off, she could feel the burn at the corners of her lips from too much salt, so she finished by filling a glass with water and taking a few big gulps. The water they pumped in from nearby springs tasted like rain-washed stone and morning air, and the way the Jakku desert had dried out her mouth was a fading memory.

"See you tomorrow," she said as she left.

The next morning, they passed each other in a bustling hallway. This time, eye contact and a quick nod of acknowledgment. To Rey, it felt like progress. And a flutter of something she couldn't quite name.

When Rey left her room, she was hungrier, it was a bit earlier than the previous night, and she brought a thick blanket, the weave nubby and soft. Moving through the halls, she could smell the tiny red night-blooming flowers that vined loosely around the trees outside.

The kitchen lights were on and she felt a flash of nervousness. What if he didn't want her there? What if it was an intrusion? She'd practically invited herself, after all. But she was already at the door and taking a deep breath when it slid open.

"Hi." Ben was scooping flour into a bowl on a scale. He hadn't been there for very long, judging by the lack of equipment and ingredients out on the countertop.

"Hello," she said as she entered. Her voice was hushed, still feeling stealthy from the walk over.

"Want some caf?" He nodded to a fresh pot by the sink. "Tea?"

Rey settled into the same seat as before. She grimaced at the thought of caf. The heavy, robust scent was nice enough, but even with cream and sugar, the sharp, bitter flavor wasn't to her taste.

"Tea, please."

Ben finished measuring and went to the pantry. She heard him going though the unlabeled metal containers on the top shelf.

"Got a favorite? Looks like... sapir, Chandrilan, Gatalentan..." Ben unscrewed a lid and took a sniff. "Gross. That's tarine. You probably know what's in here anyway."

Something full-bodied and bracing, she decided.

"Gatalentan. Plain."

The rattle of the tin, barely audible tapping into a strainer-topped cup, and steaming water being poured over the leaves.

"I'm impressed by the Resistance's tea selection." He said it conversationally, although there was a distance in it, like he was an outside observer. Perhaps it was just habit on his part, but it made Rey uneasy.

"That's Mas-" She caught it, unsure of what to call Leia when speaking to Ben. "-General Organa's doing. Mostly."

"Should've known." The warmth of his voice contracted in Rey's chest. Leia was a shrewd politician and a fierce leader, but there was the tiniest softening to her speech lately. The heaviness that had always rested on her shoulders since Rey had met her seemed lighter. The war was far from over, but a decisive battle- one that few even knew about- had been won.

Wordlessly, Ben deposited the cup in front of Rey.

"Thank you," she said.

He gave a little nod. He already had a mug of caf, and took a long drink from it before setting it back down on the counter where he was cooking.

Her tea was smooth, steeped until just before the favor muddled. Apparently Ben Solo knew how to brew a decent cup of tea. Rey added it to the mental list of things that surprised her about him, right below how different he looked in a shirt that wasn't black. He still wore his boots, though, the inky leather reaching his knees and Rey could pick out the sound of his heavy footfalls in the corridors.

She plucked a cool-rinsed berry from a dish on the island, a red, sweet fruit with tiny purple seeds, and bit into it thoughtfully. The seeds popped between her teeth.

"We could train together," Rey suggested. It was a thought she'd been having all day.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

Rey couldn't hide the sting of it, but lifted her head defiantly anyway.

"Why not?"

"Because Rey, I-" He cut himself off sharply. The air between them crackled with sudden tension. "I don't think you trust me," he said.

She bristled at the accusation, but it was true. When Rey looked at him, she remembered the feeling of her lightsaber's blade clashing against his, not with the measured restraint of training but with her own intent to cut him down. A shudder ran through her at the memory. She shouldn't have suggested that. It would take time before she was willing to spar with him. And the blocked-off connection wasn't helping. He was guarded, walling in his emotions. Rey recalled Poe hinting at conditions of surrender and she wondered if Ben voluntarily limiting his connection to the Force was one of them.

"I can't sense how you're feeling," she said.

"You could ask," he said simply. Ben always slipped out of daily briefings as soon as they were finished, disappearing for long stretches before Rey would see him later, poring over maps with Leia. Since he wasn't speaking to Rey directly in public, she'd assumed that he felt too closely watched and wanted privacy between them. But now she suspected that it was more complicated than that.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

He laughed. A good sound that she needed to memorize. His eyes met hers and he was suddenly serious.

"Better."

She'd missed him, Rey realized. In some indescribable, impossible way, she had missed Ben her entire life. Rey released the hold, the barrier in their bond that she'd been reinforcing with self-preservation and her injured pride. It was like something in her breathed a sigh of relief.

"It's open on my end," she told him. "If you ever want to talk."

He pressed his lips together before giving her another quick nod. He grabbed a short-handled grater from a utensil holder.

"Who taught you to cook?" Rey asked.

"Me, mostly." Ben rattled through a drawer before pulling out a whisk, bumping it closed with his hip. "Do you cook?"

Countless memories of polystarch portion bread, gritty with sand that had blown in. Exhausted by days of constant moving, she'd been starving, barely able to eat enough to keep her body functional. Trying to save what she could for times when she was sick or hurt or just unlucky, Rey had been grateful but always hungry. Even now, she knew she ate with a speed and lingering eagerness that made most people uncomfortable.

"I'm alive, aren't I?" It came out harsher than she intended and he was watching her with softened eyes. She didn't want to get into it. "But I can't cook like..." Rey gestured to Ben, swept a hand to include the heating griddle and the bowl of measured-out flour.

"Do you want to?" His eyebrows lifted with excitement. It was almost jarring to see how open his expression was, like he'd removed another kind of mask and she was staring again. "You're a fast learner, Rey. Here, I'll show you."

He took a side step so there was room for her to join him. Rey approached slowly, leaving her blanket draped over the back of the chair.

As Ben described what he was doing, demonstrating how to crack an egg and give it a whisk, her mind wandered. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so close to him. They weren't touching, but Rey could detect a trace of the same shampoo that everybody else used. On him, though, it reminded her of deep woods. Different soap? Aftershave?

Ben pointed to a large, globe-shaped fruit beside her, and she dragged herself from the reverie to listen.

"There's juice and pulp in there that we need. Make sure you do it over a bowl." He set a clean one on the counter by Rey.

Bewildered, she rolled the smooth, hard-shelled fruit around in her hands, trying to find the top.

"How do I open this?"

"I usually just..." Ben reached out, spreading his fingers and flicked his wrist. The fruit cracked open in Rey's grasp.

"I could have done that," Rey mumbled under her breath. Apparently it was fine for him to use the Force on produce. Opaque, bright purple liquid dribbled out into the bowl beneath.

"Uhhh, is it supposed to be this color?" she asked him nervously.

"Yeah. That's a really fresh one." He sounded impressed.

She pried it apart, revealing segments of white-speckled flesh. Sweet-scented, almost floral.

"Just scoop that into the bowl and mash it," he said, handing her a spoon. He anticipated her next question, having caught on to the fact that Rey was always ready to eat. "You can try some. It's good like that. Actually-"

Ben leaned over with his own spoon, using the edge of it to pop out a section. She studied his reaction, his jaw working as he squished the fruit with his tongue, his pleasure obvious even without feeling it slip through the bond.

Rey tried her bite. It wasn't as sweet as she had expected, balanced by a pleasant tartness. The texture was velvety, almost creamy.

While she crushed the fruit in the bowl, he sprinkled a powder over it. Sugar, she presumed. The consistency as she mixed was a thickening liquid.

He set a tall, wide glass of water next to her and gave it a brisk stir. When he dropped in a spoonful of the fruit mixture, it spun, forming a perfect sphere. Rey was transfixed. Ben fished it out, rinsed it, and passed the spoon to her, the violet orb shiny and smooth.

"Eat this?"

"Eat that," he confirmed, watching her expectantly.

The gel-like outside gave way almost instantly in her mouth- a burst, then a cold melting across her tongue. Sweeter, richer. Luscious. Her eyes widened in surprise.

"That's better," she announced. "Can I do the rest?"

"Yeah. Put them in here when you're done."

Ben grated and mixed, poured and flipped. She stirred and strained. They didn't speak unless Rey had a question, but usually she'd glance over and observe. The silence was companionable and relaxing. When she heard the first sizzle, Rey rested her chin on Ben's arm to peer around him as the batter set and bubbled.

Soon, they were done.

A teetering, steaming stack of hotcakes on her plate, drowned in warm syrup, and surrounded with the purple spheres she'd made. Rey couldn't tear her eyes away.

"That's mine?"

"Yeah, mine's there." Ben pointed to an equally tall pile with the same syrup and a scattering of chopped, spiced red pieces. Rey leaned in to inspect them, sniffing.

He poured a little extra caf into his cup to warm it up. Swirling it, he sat down next to her.

"Want to switch?" he offered. "They're just Corellian-style."

Rey shook her head.

"I want to try one of these, though." She pointed to a red chunk.

"Go for it."

Rey reached out, then stopped, remembering her manners.

"With my fingers?"

"Sure." Ben smiled into his mug of caf.

She plucked one out of the slick syrup and popped it into her mouth. Crispy, honeyed, aromatic. Warm. A nostalgic taste, she imagined, for other people.

Rey licked her fingers clean.

"That's good."

He made a sound of agreement while he settled in. And she was struck by the fact that she was going to watch someone most of the galaxy still knew as the Supreme Leader of the First Order tuck into a huge stack of hotcakes on a hidden Resistance base. In the middle of the night. Alone with her.

Rey grinned at him over their plates. Quiet chewing and clinking forks were the only sounds in the small kitchen.

"I'm glad you're here," she said.

He finished chewing and gulped.

"Me too."

During training, Leia scolded her in that particular way of hers, gentle but blunt.

"You're distracted."

Rey puffed out an exhale and the constellation of pebbles floating around her rained to the ground with a patter.

"I just... have a lot on my mind," Rey explained, not meeting her eyes.

If she had glanced up, she would have seen the corner of Leia's mouth curl into a knowing smile that was hidden by the time Rey started stretching for another run.

Rey picked at the browned pieces on the tray, stuffing them into her mouth.

"Save some for later."

She shook her head.

"Don't make them so good."

Ben laughed, resting his hand on her shoulder. It was casual, and then he squeezed a little. Rey felt it with her whole body, dissolving into his touch before he abruptly pulled his hand away like he'd been burned.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

She bumped her arm against his.

"I liked it," Rey said as she returned to ripping up leaves into bite-sized bits.

He waved a pair of tongs at the stove.

"I forget what I was doing."

"Checking the steaks."

"Right. Yeah."

Her next job was to peel and slice a flat, blue-tinted root into strips. Peeling it was simple enough, the papery skin practically flaking off at her touch. But the slicing was more difficult and Rey struggled to angle the knife correctly.

"Here." The clank of the spatula being laid down next to the stove. "Like this." Arms appeared in her peripheral vision, coming from behind her. His chest bumped against her back, sending a bolt of old instincts to spin around and fight, before it was followed by something just as strong.

And Ben was talking, the rumble of his voice so close to her ear.

"But don't worry about that yet. It just takes practice."

Around her hand, his fingers felt warm as they guided the smooth rocking movement of the knife, a heeled push forward and a gliding draw back. When she got accustomed to the motion, he pulled his hand away and braced it on the counter's edge beside her. Rey wanted it back. Not for the guidance, but for his touch.

"Yeah, that's good," he said, focused on her slicing. Maybe it was late and they were too alone, but his words shivered through her and she wanted his mouth on hers. Finally.

Rey set the knife down on the cutting board.

"We need more than that," he reminded her. "I know it looks like a lot, but it cooks down and..."

He let the words fade as she turned to face him, boxed in by the counter and him and his arms. There was a second- just a second before, when their eyes met and then he glanced down at her lips and it was over. Rey didn't lean in- she lunged, her hands dragging him down to her. She pushed, too, stepping him back and back, his hands on her hips, until he was against the counter of the island. He bumped into it, gave a satisfied groan as she took his bottom lip between hers and pulled. His mouth opened and their tongues were slipping. He tasted like salt and she pressed her body into his, rising up on her tiptoes to stay at his mouth. His hands were everywhere- around her waist, on her back, then her shoulders, in her hair, then framing her face as it slowed, ending in quick kisses that promised more.

Rey smiled up at him before returning to her cutting board.

"I know we need more than that," she said, slicing.

When he didn't move or say anything, she glanced back at him. He was still leaning against the island, fingers resting lightly over his smile, watching her with a dazed amusement that made her want to do it again. A timer went off, its chirping beep having no effect on him. Rey cleared her throat and pointed to the oven with the tip of her knife.

"You going to get that?"

Ben hauled himself up and went over to turn off the timer, brushing his hand over her lower back as he passed by.

"Sure hope so," he said.

Rey laughed.

Not if she beat him to it.