I scowl with frustration at myself in the reflection of my face in Kylo Ren's helmet. Today of all days was the day that Finn had chosen to succumb to the flu, and was therefore only semi-presentable in battle. Without his help, things didn't go too well. And so that had landed me in this God-awful ordeal, of having to interrogate (and be interrogated by) Kylo Ren. I was annoyed as my hair was not at its best – I'd had to brush it into submission by Forcing it into three buns at the back of my head. I looked at the brown-haired girl with green eyes in the reflection and gave up – I was good-looking but didn't know it. And clumsy, too.

I had fallen over as I entered the interrogation room, my lanyard with the word PRISONER stamped on it clearly flapping into my face. I gasped and stared in disbelief at the mask before me as two strong, black leather gloved hands curled around my arms gently and helped me to my feet.

"Miss Rey," he says. He helps me into the interrogation chair and closes the restraints with a hiss as he presses a button.

I can't tell if the goosebumps on my arms are from the cold steel holding me down or the sheer intensity of Kylo Ren's gaze from behind the helmet.

"Tell me about the droid," he says with confidence.

I am taken aback by his confidence. I figure I won't let him see that so I retort with a witty comeback.

"It's a BB-unit with orange and white decal-"

"No," he interjects, dominating the conversation. "It has a map. To Luke Skywalker. You've seen it."

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," I answer playfully, trying to diffuse my embarrassment and endearing clumsiness.

"What do you mean?" he insists.

"Well, it's hard to have an interview with a creature in a mask."

He then moves to take off his helmet. Holy cow! If this guy's over thirty then I'm a Kowakian Monkey Lizard's uncle. He has dark, penetrating eyes that Force shivers down my spine when he meets my gaze. He's so attractive. He is tall and dressed in a black suit and has the most beautifully silky, long coiffed black hair I've seen in my whole life. And I've seen a lot of coiffed hair, because I've read a lot of Good Jakkuian Housekeeping. I feel my breath hitch in my throat. I'm not a confident person so shy away from attractive men, just like you.

"Now tell me about the Droid," he pushes again.

"Are you gay?" I ask.

"What?"

"Sorry it's just an awful attempt at humour," I say. "I'd like to interview you as well please, for my friend's submission to Good Jakkuian Housekeeping."

"What friend?" His voice warm and husky, like sweet dark melted Corellian apple syrup, or something. I feel myself blushing.

"Finn," I answer. "He was hoping to get captured and taken prisoner by you today but he came down with flu so I've had to do it for some ridiculous reason."

"Ah yes, FN-2187," he muses. And then he barks, "The traitor!"

I stare at him, I see such anguish and betrayal, I can see the tears he cries over how he killed all of those padawan years ago. I now feel that it would be acceptable for him to spank me senseless – the guy's had a hard life, so it's O.K..

"Now. The Droid."

"You didn't answer my question about being gay?"

He rolls his eyes. "Fine. You know I can take whatever I want."

He says it in such a sexy drawl and with a quirk of his eyebrows, so I think of him taking me sexually. I blush. I would like to have sex with him. What I want to make clear is – he is now about to grossly mistreat me, yes. But he is also sexy, so that's alright. He is so strong with the Force that I can feel it dominate me in a way I enjoy.

"Is that – sorry, does that mean bisexual?"

"Shut up," he bites. Despite wanting him to fuck me and sexually torture me to the point of near abuse, I won't be told to shut up! I have self respect and am a strong female character.

"I –"

He then uses the Force to Force his way into my mind. It penetrates firmly but carefully and I find myself flushed with heat at the intrusion – but I kind of like it. I succumb to him. He is just so attractive. That hair – Holy bantha! I can feel him pushing his way around and it hurts. But I take it.

"You're...so lonely," he whispers, and its with an intimacy I have never experienced before. He walks towards he and leans across my left side, his lips close to my ear. He is mouth breathing. I can feel the breath rushing out of his lips, gurgling and slurping as he exhales. "At night... desperate to sleep. You – wait – is that – "

Oh Holy catchhawk! He knows!