This time, Han Solo looked even less hospitable than he had two nights before. He opened the door to his quarters and didn't even bother with an attempt at politeness.

"Where's my daughter, Dameron?"

No 'Poe' this time, he thought. I've been demoted. Not a good start.

"Uh, I think she's out training with Master Skywalker? Somewhere in the jungle? I'm not really sure." He paused to regroup. "Good evening, General. How are you?"

Solo spoke brusquely. "She didn't come home last night."

"Well, the dinner ran longer than we thought, and then we stayed up late talking, so…." Poe trailed off. "Actually, Breha's the subject I wanted to talk to you about, if I could come in?"

Solo kept the frown on his face. "Sure," he said, gesturing a grudging welcome. "Come on in."

The Solos' quarters were slightly more spacious than those of officers like Poe. They had two bedrooms and enough room in the main living space to accommodate two functional armchairs. Han pulled out one of the chairs for Poe and offered him a glass of Corellian brandy, which was gladly accepted.

"Is General Organa at home?"

"No, she's got a meeting with Admiral Statura. Procurements or something." Han hadn't yet accepted an official position within the Resistance. He'd only been back a month, and was still trying to figure out his place. Right now, he was just focused on being Leia's wingman.

Poe wasn't sure whether Organa's presence would help or hinder the situation. She'd probably help. She was a professional diplomat, after all, and he wasn't going to say anything she didn't already know. So Poe said a silent prayer to the god of military officers, wishing for a speedy end to the procurement meeting and a hasty return of the princess.

"So," Han began, "you stayed up late talking?" Poe nodded. "Just talking?"

"Yes." Poe said another quick prayer in his head and looked at the end table. "No. Not just. I mean, we also talked."

Solo tossed him a baleful 'you've got to be kidding' look. Mercifully, the door chime beeped before Han could draw his blaster and start shooting. He stood and opened the door for Chewbacca, who lumbered in and greeted Poe with a friendly bark.

"Hey, Chewie, right on time. Poe here is just telling me about the affair he's carrying on with my little girl." Chewie chuckled and sat down with a smile on his face. At least, Poe hoped it was a smile. It might've been a snarl.

Poe half-stood in respect for the older Chewbacca. "Hello," he croaked. He rested his gaze on Solo. "I wouldn't call it an affair." Han quirked an eyebrow. "I'm in love with her."

"You fell in love with her last night?"

"No, since…well, it's been a while."

"Just how long have you two been sneaking around?" To Chewbacca, he added, "How dumb am I?"

Chewie barked at length. He wasn't surprised by this news at all. Nobody would be surprised except Han, who was indeed pretty dumb. Furthermore, the Wookiee saw it as a good match. He liked Poe, considered him a very talented pilot, and thought he'd be a supportive friend for Breha.

"Aw, who asked you?" Han told Chewie grumpily before turning back to Dameron. "Aren't you a little old for her?"

"I'm thirty-one."

"She just turned twenty. Twenty. She's a baby."

Poe looked at his brandy and resisted the temptation to take a swig. "I can see how she'll always be a little girl to you, but—"

"She's still a girl," Han argued, trying to keep doubt out of his voice.

"She's a woman," Poe insisted mildly.

"What, you mean since you—?"

"No, no," Poe interrupted quickly. "It's just…." He took a breath. "Her difficult childhood has given her a maturity that a lot of twenty year-olds lack."

Chewie piped up with his opinion. Han shook his head. "Why are you takin' his side?"

Chewie gave a short bark: woman.

"Do you understand Shyriiwook?" Han asked Poe.

"No, sir."

"Good." Han paused for a sip of his drink.

Poe decided to take a risk and go on the attack. "Breha tells me her mother was nineteen when you met her?"

Han's eyebrows went up. "Don't bring up Leia. That was totally different." Ignoring the Wookiee's chortle, he sputtered, "She was very, very wise for her age. And it was wartime. Everyone grows up faster in a war."

Poe looked around the quarters innocently without stating the obvious: they were in a bunker, on a military base, in a war zone.

Solo ignored Poe and continued. "She was a senator, and a princess, and she had a lot of responsibilities, and…it was totally different. Besides," he added, finding an argument with a more logical foundation, "we were friends for years before even thinking of romance. You two barely know each other."

"Well," Poe hedged, "we spend a lot of time together. And we have a lot of common interests—"

"Yeah, maybe, but you've known each other for a month. Barely."

Poe took a sip of his brandy. It was delicious, probably part of that twenty-something year-old collection Rey had shown him on his first visit to these quarters. "We're spending a lot of time getting to know each other," he repeated.

"You're supposed to become friends first, before thinking of romance. That's the foundation that you build a relationship on."

"I agree with you," Poe admitted. "We may have rushed things a little. But we're already solid friends. We trust each other. We work well on missions—"

Han didn't let up. "From what I've heard around the base, you're a real ladies' man, always falling in love with some pretty soldier or pilot."

Poe winced. "I…no, I don't. Nothing close to love."

"What would you call it, then? Just casual sex?"

Poe averted his eyes, and tried to come up with some answer that might assuage the general's doubts. "Well, frankly, yes," he began.

"With half the women on base?"

Poe couldn't resist the Corellian brandy's lure anymore. He took a big gulp before replying. "Definitely less than half. But my relationship with Breha is very different than that. She's special. Different." It didn't sound too convincing even in Poe's own ears, despite his earnestness. "I like everything about her. She makes me…sparkle." He ended lamely, thinking of the first time Rey had used that word to describe her state of mind: right after they made love the first time. Do not blush, he ordered himself.

Han leaned forward, elbows on his thighs. "Here's what I'm worried about. You're used to havin' short-term flings with women and then leaving them before either of you can even think about getting serious with each other."

Chewbacca whuffled softly. Just as you did, before the princess. Plenty of times.

Han threw his old friend a sideways glance as he continued. "Which is fine, whatever. But then you try that with a very young gir—woman—who doesn't have any experience at all with this kinda thing, and she gets the wrong idea."

"No, she's got the right idea about me."

Han shook his head. "One day, you're gonna get bored with her and move on to your next plaything, and her heart's gonna be broken."

"It's not like that," Poe insisted. "I wouldn't do that to her." He thought for a moment. "If I had to choose between marrying her tomorrow or never seeing her again, I'd marry her. It's not even a hard choice."

"Well, you say that now. But how far would you two get? You've never tried making a serious relationship work. Neither has she. Look, she didn't even have any friends growing up on Jakku, Poe. She had nobody. Nobody she trusted. And now here comes this handsome hotshot pilot who showers her with attention, who seduces her on some away mission in the middle of a jungle, and promises her the whole galaxy. She trusts you completely. And you could very easily destroy that." Han paused for emphasis, and jabbed a finger towards Poe. "And if you destroy my daughter, I'll destroy you."

Poe considered arguing. He had certainly not seduced Breha, hadn't even flirted with her. Like Solo said, she was young and inexperienced, and Poe was very aware of that. He hadn't planned to ever make the first move, and he didn't: she was the one who threw herself at him in that jungle. But, he admitted to himself, I should've said no. Taken it slow. So instead of addressing the point, he asked, "Have you ever been to the Rainforest Preserve on Yavin IV?"

Caught off guard, Han just grunted, "Huh?"

"They have one of the largest butterfly houses in the galaxy. This huge sunny building with tropical plants and thousands of birds and winged insects. It's very peaceful. There are benches so you can just sit quietly and watch them. I loved it there, used to go every year during school holidays. The butterflies' wings were so incredibly delicate and beautiful, and even as a child, I knew that you had to be very careful not to damage them if they landed on you. And I never hurt one. I adored them."

Han wasn't convinced, though he had to concede—grudgingly—that he liked the analogy. "Yeah, Breha's not a butterfly, Poe."

"Her enthusiasm for life, her belief in the goodness of people: that's very delicate. And rare nowadays. She just…glows with happiness all the time." He stared at Solo, as sincere as he could be. "I won't crush that. I love that quality in Rey. I won't abandon her." Poe shook his head, frustrated. "I don't know how to prove myself to you, General."

"Well," Han said reflectively, "there's one way."

Luke Skywalker opened a bottle of lager. The cap popped off, he poured the golden liquid into a frosted mug for Han, and the two old friends clinked glasses before settling back into the couch in Luke's quarters.

"My new goal in life," Han ventured, "is to mess with Poe Dameron as much as possible."

Luke smiled. "Good goal, sounds like fun. He's very fond of Breha."

"That's why I'm gonna mess with him. He's a little too fond of her." He glanced at his friend. "He thinks he's a lot more than 'fond,' you know."

"Yeah, I know."

"How come everyone knows about them but me? You didn't think that little detail was worth sharing with your brother-in-law?"

Luke shrugged. "I figured you knew."

"I'm not a Jedi, Luke," he sneered playfully. "I don't 'feel the Force around me.' You've gotta spell things out for mere mortals."

Luke looked straight at Solo. "They're sleeping together." Nice and direct.

"Not anymore!" Han crowed happily. "I told Poe he's got to prove that he really loves her, not just her body. I said they needed to work on 'developing their friendship.' So I ordered him not to touch Rey for the next three months."

The Jedi laughed. "There's no way they'll be able to do that. They're young." He gave Han a meaningful look. "Frisky."

"Oh, yeah, I know that. But he's an earnest boy. He's gonna try his hardest to impress old Papa Solo. It's going to be hilarious to watch." Han took a swig of his drink.

"Would you have been able to stay away from Leia when you two were that age?"

Han gave him a sardonic grin. "If her father had been looking over my shoulder, sure. That would've put a damper on things real fast."

Luke snorted. "He could be…an intimidating presence."

"Damn right. Hey, Vader saw me and Leia just kiss a couple of times on Bespin. He tortured me and then froze my ass in carbonite."

"I'm glad you can joke about this," Luke muttered.

"Well, it's been a while." He shrugged. "Anyway, it's gonna be fun watching Poe try to be a gentleman without spraining something."

Luke shook his head. "I'll bet Rey breaks before he does."

Han's eyebrows rose. "I'll take that bet. Ten credits."

"Okay, old pirate, you're on."