Ben watched the proceedings impassively. The men and women before him were graduating from basic training to become full-fledged Stormtroopers. Their Captain read their names and listed scores and accolades they had each earned. It was impossibly dull, but Ben made a point to attend every one of these ceremonies to remind these people whose command they were under, hoping to instil a sense of basic loyalty into them.
He groaned internally when Rey appeared before him. She was supine, hovering several inches above the floor, arms raised. The odd posture was familiar to him now: she was tinkering with one of the Resistance Starfighters.
"Morning," she said absently, her face twisted with concentration as she fidgeted with something above her.
"I can't right do this now," Ben whispered, wiping a hand over his mouth to hide the movement of his lips.
Rey froze. She slid forward on invisible wheels, still on her back, and then sat up to face him. He told himself he was completely unaffected by the smudges of grease on her cheeks and nose.
Her expression lit up with mischievous delight. Snoke himself had never caused such dread to pool in the pit of Ben's stomach.
"Rey…" he breathed, knowing it was useless. He had earned this.
She leapt to her feet and sauntered over to him, bending forward slightly so her face hovered uncomfortably close to his. She was a phantom unable to affect his physical reality, but he couldn't help imagining the heat he would feel from her breath if she were really here. He stared stubbornly into the back of the Stormtrooper Captain's helmet.
"WHAT WAS THAT, BEN?" Rey yelled against his ear. "YOU CAN'T WHAT?"
He flinched away from her, and the company of Stormtroopers automatically flinched with him, though of course they couldn't hear her. The Captain saw the ripple of confusion spread through his men and turned to look for the source. Ben rearranged himself carefully, nodding for the ceremony to continue.
"WHATCHA NODDIN' 'BOUT?" Rey asked, and he clenched his hands to grip the armrests of his throne. He couldn't risk reacting a third time.
She took mercy on him then, returning to the floor to continue whatever mechanical work she had been engaged in. She began to loudly and clearly narrate everything she saw and did, pausing every minute or so to ask if he had anything to add. He didn't.
Fifteen long minutes later the company filed out and Ben turned his furious gaze to her.
"Really, Rey?"
He stood, and she did too. They each took a few steps to meet each other. Ben tried not to notice that she was within arm's reach.
"I do hope I wasn't interrupting anything," she said with artificial sweetness.
"Nothing important," he quipped. "Only my daily briefing on all of the many compliments sent to me from the millions of admirers I have spread throughout the galaxy."
"I suppose every system has a few lunatics lurking about," she mused slyly, "but I think millions is probably overstating things. Maybe just a single million."
"A million and one, if you count yourself," he smirked.
"I don't know where you get your delusions, Supreme Laser Br-" They both froze. She had lifted a hand to poke at him playfully, obviously not expecting to make contact. But she had. The pressure of her fingertip pressed against the center of his chest burned through him hotter than any lightsaber could.
As one they glanced down at the point of contact, and then back up to meet each other's eyes again. Rey's lips had parted slightly, and he was transported back to the first time they had made contact through the mysterious connection between them. Somehow she now looked even more vulnerable and beautiful than she did that day.
With impossible slowness and delicacy she moved into him, spreading her hand so that her fingers and palm lay flat against his chest.
"Your heart," she whispered.
He swallowed to soothe his dry mouth before whispering back. "I have one," he agreed, not knowing how else to respond. It's yours, if you want it, he added silently, like a coward.
"I do," she replied, and his brain melted as it struggled to understand that she had heard him.
He raised his hands towards her face, barely caring that his fingers were trembling and his heart was pounding. A part of him was impossibly, gloriously happy that she could see one and feel the other. But just before the point of contact her eyes flashed with a new emotion. Regret. A beat later he felt the same regret infuse her thoughts, and the jolt it sent through him broke the spell between them so that his fingers fell through her face at the same instant her hand fell through his chest.
Ben sensed that she was relieved and stood back from her, sighing. He watched as bitter tears slowly filled her eyes, knowing that she was seeing the same thing in his.
Suddenly she spun to look behind her, drawing in a desperate breath.
"I have to go," she said, turning back to him. "Someone's coming." She scrubbed at her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to control her features.
"Good," he said, rearranging his own posture and thoughts. "Me too," he lied. "Need to get back to those million admirers."
"A million and one, remember?" She looked up at him with a desperate earnestness that failed to move him. When he didn't reply she sighed. "We'll talk later?"
Ben nodded sullenly, already knowing that she would never allow herself to discuss this with him again.
"Sorry," she whispered, turning from him to greet the invisible newcomer. She sounded pleased to see them, and he hated himself for his inability to block out her voice.