For the absentee father that Han could be, he still managed to instill one rule in his son. Throughout Ben's childhood, only one promise was muttered constantly. There were never any reminders not to go out past curfew, or never to drink, nor to smoke, nor to jump off the side of the local bridge into the clean waters of the Tatooine river.
That was Leia's job.
But Han? His one rule to Ben was simple.
Never fight with girls.
Young Ben never understood the rule, especially when all Han ever did was fight with Leia. Now, sure, their lovers' spats were always shrouded in flirtation and frustration, but they never reached the point of being serious. Their fights were never physical.
Well, except that one-time Leia slammed the Falcon's door on Han's hand, but that was an accident (or at least she claimed, even twenty years later).
Nevertheless, Ben took his father's rule to heart. He figured that if he ignored most of what his father told him, he ought to at least follow through with that promise. It was certainly rooted in some sort of chivalrous behavior, a lifestyle that seemed to have fizzled out in recent years.
If holding his tongue with women made Ben a gentleman, then he certainly had no complaints.
And throughout his life, it had been hard.
Whenever his mother badgered him to clean his room and eat his vegetables, or to now later in life, when she whined incessantly about wanting grandchildren and that he needed to call more, he never gave her lip.
When his batty old neighbor and occasional childhood babysitter Ms. Kanata hadn't cleaned up after her dog or sorted her recycling, he had kept his opinions to himself.
He never argued with Ms. Holdo, his high school principal, despite her seemingly personal vendetta against him.
Even his first girlfriend, Kaydel, who he dated until he was 17, he never once raised his voice at, despite walking in on her in bed with Snap Wexley, back in his senior year of high school.
And the list went on, and on, and on. He never, ever, lost his temper or challenged the women in his life.
Not his landlord, Mara, who would take two weeks to fix the most minor of issues.
Not the teen barista at his favorite coffee shop, the one who somehow always managed to forget the extra shots of espresso that he paid an arm and a leg for.
Not Phasma, his workout partner, even when she'd show up to their training sessions thirty minutes late and still in a pair of high heels.
And not Bazine, the niece of his boss, who refused to take no for an answer and somehow always found herself 'passing by' the office around lunch time, keen to watch Ben eat his food—since, you know, she never ate herself.
Maybe this was his one and only way to not let his father down. As it stood, Han had given Ben one rule.
He'd have to try pretty hard to break it.
Right?
Ben snorted at the thought and rolled away from his desk, the wheels of his chair moving smoothly across the expensive wood floor of his office. He stopped his chair in front of the panels of windows against his wall, giving himself a moment to admire the view.
Sure, he saw mostly streets and hot dog vendors, but the tips of the Aldera mountains were visible in the distance. He stared, and stared, and stared some more, the blue sky taunting him, reminding him of his pending doom.
He had been dreading this meeting all week.
Ben studied a moving form on the street below. The poor kid, who looked no older than twenty, was being dragged along by at least eight dogs. In that moment, somehow Ben envied the dog walker.
He would rather be dragged on his ass by thirty hungry Great Danes than see the clock strike 11.
With a deep breath and a shaky hand through his hair, he scolded himself. He was 32 years old. Surely, he could hold his temper. His mother had raised him to be polite.
And he never broke Han's golden rule.
Well, until he met Rey, of course.
Within seconds of thinking about her small frame, soft hair, and freckled cheeks, the devil herself strolled in, typing away on her iPhone. Over his six years of working with Rey, Ben was quick to notice her propensity for power suits.
While most of the other women he worked with—Rose, Paige, and Jessika, to name a few—all were content in feminine dresses or freshly tailored slacks with a sweater, Rey always showed up in a suit, a silky blouse underneath.
Today was no different. Her suit was perfectly tailored to her body, and the rich ivory of the material made her tan skin pop. And while Rey normally featured a pop of color in her clothes, today she was literally in all white, if the lacy white camisole under her blazer was any indication.
She was quite the contrast from Ben, who per usual, was clad in one of his many black suits. And while he usually paired them with a variety of colored shirts, today he was wearing a black shirt as well. Then, a black tie.
Leia always said that black matched everything.
So why did Ben need anything else in his wardrobe?
He let himself watch Rey for another few moments before clearing his throat. At the noise, Rey finally glanced at him and narrowed her eyes, before dropping into one of the plush seats in front of Ben's desk.
The pair stared at each other, saying nothing.
"Well, don't you just look like the Prince of Darkness today, Solo," Rey began, before dropping her gaze to admire her baby pink colored nails, "Did the hearse fit in your usual parking space?"
Ben took a deep breath and forced himself to take a sip of coffee so he didn't dare say what was running through his mind.
I hope someone spills coffee on you.
At least I don't look like a paper towel before the commercial demonstration.
This isn't Miami Vice, Rey.
Rey smirked and continued to watch him, her eyes teasing. When it became apparent that he wasn't going to respond, she continued. "You're lucky you're not like, blonde. This way, your color palette is at least consistent."
Ben sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "Can we just get started?"
She pursed her lips, as if displeased, but nodded nonetheless. "Of course."
"Wonderful. How far along is your team with organizing the premiere in New York?" Ben asked, his eyes jumping between the never-ending pile of emails in his inbox and Rey's face, "Do we have a sponsor yet?"
Rey crinkled her nose. "A sponsor? That was your team's responsibility."
Ben sat up and looked away from a rather arduous email from Hux to meet Rey's gaze. He raised an eyebrow. "Why would my team, who's in charge of London and LA, worry about the sponsor for New York?"
She blinked a few times, mouth agape. "Because Hux went on and on about how interested Kenobi was in the publicity!" She cursed and leaned forward, pointing her finger at Ben accusingly, "He claimed that the CEO loved the idea of sponsoring all three premieres. The figure was somewhere around a million."
He vaguely remembered Hux discussing the possibility of Kenobi, the acclaimed whiskey brand, sponsoring their premieres, but that's all the comment had been.
Discussion. Never confirmation.
"Are you telling me your team hasn't reached out to anyone else?" He asked, trying to keep his voice calm, "Even when you knew Kenobi wouldn't make a decision until the new year?"
Rey narrowed her eyes. "Well, excuse me! Of course, we've been reaching out. But if you haven't noticed, we're not exactly the only summer blockbuster! Competition is fierce."
Again, he took a deep breath.
I will not raise my voice.
I will not get angry.
If you want to yell at someone, take your anger out at Hux during lunch.
"We may have a competitive release date, but we also have a romantic drama starring Jyn Erso and Cassian Andor. Awards talk is through the roof." Ben ran a hand through his hair and sighed, "Your team should have no problem finding partners. Or do I need to have a little chat with your promotions team?"
Rey scoffed. "Poe and Bebe are more than capable of doing their jobs. But just having two A-Listers doesn't guarantee money pouring in!"
Ben rolled his eyes. "It did last summer."
"And last summer was Ahsoka Tano's last movie, so that's entirely different!"
Deep breath, Ben.
He took a moment to study her face, immediately noticing the reddening of her cheeks. She always looked adorable when she was flustered.
No. Stop that.
"Rey," Ben began, using his best level-headed voice, "Cassian and Jyn's demands for appearances are through the roof. Jyn is on the West End. We have to buy out her shows to fly her to New York and LA. We simply can't afford what we have planned unless we land a partner."
Rey actually growled at him. "If you would let me do my job, Solo, I'd get this done. But I can't with you constantly sticking your nose where it doesn't belong!"
Ben gripped the leather arm rests of his chair.
Breathe.
"I'm in charge. I need more frequent updates than what you give me."
Rey snorted and wagged her finger at him. "Yes, and you keep throwing that in my face! But you are not my boss, Solo. You're in charge for this film and only this film. You just wait until our winter release."
"I was selected to run this project for a reason, Rey! It was not an arbitrary decision."
She rolled her eyes. "You were selected because you're a brown-noser."
His grip on the chair tightened.
"A brown-noser?"
"Yeah. My other version of saying it was not as polite."
Ben couldn't help the way his jaw clenched. "Oh, please enlighten me."
"Snoke's cock is so deep down your throat that you're nearly choking on it."
His mouth fell open, unbelieving of her words. In fact, he wasn't sure what was more troubling—her low opinion of him, her inappropriate language in their place of work, or how delicious the word 'cock' sounded escaping her lips.
The leather of his chair was nearly ripping at this point.
He took another deep breath, desperately trying to remember his father's words. He needed to remember the promise he had made at only age six, tucked onto his father's lap after a strenuous day of church basketball and one too many of his mother's cookies.
Ben forced himself to meet her furious gaze. When he spoke, his voice had dropped an octave, a physical reminder of how close he was to breaking.
"I was assigned as project lead for this film, Rey, because Snoke trusted me to get the job done." He continued to study her, captivated by the fury in her eyes, "And I assigned your team our New York premiere because I thought you could handle it. If you all can't, then my team will happily take over."
He took another breath and continued speaking. "Maybe Snoke would promote you to project lead if one, your team actually did their jobs, and two, you could stick to a deadline."
Rey jumped to her feet, her eyes furious. "Oh, Solo, you arsehole!"
He cleared his throat and stood up too. Despite the desk between them, he felt massive next to her tiny frame. "Excuse me?"
She shook her head angrily, her loose locks swaying from the movement. "It's so bloody easy for you lot because you're only concerned about money!" She turned away from him, before immediately turning back, her hands shaking, "You don't have to worry about talent! That all falls on me and Finn!"
Ben clenched his fists. "Nothing runs without money, Rey."
"Yes, but you have no idea how much of a nightmare this bloody film has been!" She screeched, stepping forward to actually poke his chest, "The public may think Jyn and Cassian are in love, but the two bloody hate each other! Do you understand the hurdles we've had to jump over to just get the pair to agree to walk the red carpet together?"
Ben glanced at her hands and narrowed his eyes. "No. Maybe I don't know the extent of it. But you know whose job that is to let me know?" He rounded the desk, stopping once in front of her, and hissed. "Yours. It's your fucking job, Rey!"
Ah, shit.
He was angry.
She exhaled, her hands trembling in frustration. "I would do my fucking job if you stopped micro-managing me!" She yelled, her cheeks turning rosy, "But you're too bloody self-absorbed to recognize that people can get work done without your involvement!"
It was Ben's turn to growl.
Fuck Han's rule.
Ms. Holdo suspending him for skipping biology in tenth grade hadn't broken him. Mara making him wait two weeks for his hot water to be fixed hadn't broken him. Bazine showing up for sixteen consecutive days to watch him eat cafeteria food hadn't broken him.
But Rey?
The dam burst.
"I have to micro-manage you because you're too fucking incompetent to do your job!" Ben hissed, his eyes blown wide, "Every time I turn around you and your merry band of morons have a new problem! After our last film, every agent at CAA refuses to fucking even go through Finn! They call me!"
He growled and pulled at his hair. "I shouldn't be fielding fucking calls for our publicists! That's your damn job, Rey!"
She stepped forward and shoved at his chest, despite knowing any of her force wouldn't move him an inch. He just glared at her, his eyes daring her to continue.
"If it weren't for my merry band of morons we wouldn't have four trending topics on Twitter, a viral SNL video, or a combined Vanity Fair cover," Rey screamed, before trying to shove Ben yet again, "If it weren't for my merry band of morons, our New York premiere wouldn't be set for Radio City Music Hall!"
Ben growled and grabbed her hands, stopping her furious shoving. "If your merry band of morons don't get it together, there won't be a fucking premiere!"
"You're such an arrogant arsehole, you know that!" She jerked her hands from his hold, her eyes still glaring intensely at him, "And here I thought no one could possibly be worse than Snoke!"
Ben seethed and moved towards her, slouching forward so their eyes were level, his commanding height hovering over her. And like a true warrior, Rey stood tall, not at all bothered by his presence.
"You're one to talk, Rey. Always running your mouth about how fucking wonderful you and your team are. But I don't see you ever thanking us or recognizing the money we have to scrounge together to make your campaigns happen!" Ben growled and took another step forward, "This is a team sport, Rey."
"You know, I've hated you since the moment I started here," She hissed out, her eyes locked on his chocolate gaze, "You walk around like some bloody Alpha male, thinking you can run shit because you've got a foot on most of us."
"Yet little Rey thinks she can slip into a pair of high heels and be at my level," He spat, his hands clenched at his sides.
"I am at your level." She shot back.
And so, they stood there, not more than four inches between them, their gazes in a deadlock. They were playing a timeless, nameless game, one that promised power to whoever managed to hold their gaze the longest.
Looking away meant losing. It meant admitting defeat. It meant showing weakness.
He continued to glare into her eyes, captivated by their hazel hue, and the flickers of green and blue floating about. And, come to think of it, she smelled good too. Like vanilla. And something spicy. Tea, maybe.
He knew Rey liked tea.
"You've got a lot of nerve, Solo," She choked out, her voice not as steady as it once was, their eyes still locked on one another.
"I thought my name was arrogant asshole," He murmured back, unable to control the way his gaze dropped to her lips.
Rey let out a squeal of frustration. "God, Solo, if you ever just bloody shut—"
And then his mouth was on her.
Truthfully, he didn't remember how it happened, or what he had been thinking, but her lips just looked so pleasant. Soft. Pink. Some sparkles from whatever lip gloss she had been wearing.
And paired with that delicious scent of vanilla and well…
The dam had already been broken. He may as well continue to break.
Besides, whenever Han and Leia fought, it had always ended in a passionate kiss.
So surely, he was just doing what his father expected of him.
And maybe even more surprising than the kiss was how intensely Rey returned his actions. Her lips slotted against his, her hands immediately moving to pull at his dark locks, her body pressing against his massive form.
It wasn't a perfect kiss by any means—there was teeth, and maybe even too much tongue, and he couldn't figure out if his hands were meant to grab her ass or her hips or what, but god did it feel good.
In fact, Ben had just prepared himself to haul her small frame onto his desk when a knock came at his door.
"Sir, Cassian's agent is on line two," Mitaka, his assistant, yelled through the door.
Ben cursed and pulled away from Rey. She took a few steps back, refusing to look at him. He cleared his throat.
"Rey…"
After a moment, one that left Ben paralyzed with fear that she would hit him, or cry, or scream, she finally met his gaze. She looked…
Normal. Her hair was a bit messy, her lips were swollen, and her cheeks were rosy, but she didn't look the least bit unprofessional.
"Solo. Poe will have a list of prospective partners for New York by the end of the day. And I meet with the Radio City Music Hall people on Thursday, so we'll have better plans by Friday."
Ben blinked.
Was she really pretending nothing happened?
"Good luck with Cassian's reps. George is a fucking prick. Better than his manager, though."
And then Rey turned on her heels and strolled out, leaving Ben to stare at the door of his office, his mouth agape.
It took him a few moments to process what the fuck had just happened.
Or to realize that he had a raging, very uncomfortable hard-on.
He cursed and dropped to his chair, not in the mood for this phone call.
But at least he knew one thing.
Han's rule was fucking stupid.
Sure, fighting with women could be bad.
But fighting with Rey?
Well, that was fun.
To be continued…