"But you probably didn't think it would be Darth Vader," Rey said, as if answering a question.

Half-asleep, Poe opened one eye and squinted at her. "Huh?" Getting no response, Poe opened the other eye and looked her over. She's out cold. Just talking in her sleep, he realized. He lifted a hand to stroke her face. In repose, she looked content and even younger than her twenty years.

"She's nothing like her father," Rey offered.

Poe smiled. "Okay, baby." It was early morning, and for a brief moment he considered getting up, checking his comlink, finishing the mission. Staying in a sleeping bag wrapped around her sounded like a much better plan, though. Besides, she might disclose something interesting in her sleep. Something about him, maybe.

"My real name is Breha."

Funny thing to say, even in a dream, he thought. But her warmth was so alluring, he couldn't focus on much else. He kissed her softly. "Hey, Breha, you want to wake up?"

She murmured something unintelligible and rolled onto her belly. Her well-muscled back, as irresistible as gravity, pulled Poe towards it. He kissed her shoulders, kneading her back and arms with slow, deep strokes. "We should probably get up soon," he said very softly, hoping she didn't respond.

She moaned something resembling "Uh-huh." She let him rub her back for a few more minutes before adding "Good morning" coherently.

He leaned forward to kiss her cheek. "Hi. When was the last time anyone gave you a massage? Your knots are growing knots."

"Gave me a…what?"

"A massage."

"Is that what you're doing?" Rey hated to feel ignorant about so many topics that everyone in the Resistance took for granted, but she really had had very little human contact on Jakku. Nowadays, she mostly pretended to understand what was going on around her, but with Poe, as with Finn, she hoped she could be honest about her inexperience. "I've never gotten a massage, but I like it." She twisted her head to look up at him, and smiled. "Feels great."

Her smile was even more alluring to Poe than her back was. He lowered himself against her to kiss her lips, then rolled her over so she was facing him. "Roger that, then. I guess we're not getting up yet."

"What about round four?" Rey inquired between kisses. "I think you promised me round four."

"Aren't we on round three?"

"No, four. Well, four for me, maybe three for you."

Poe laughed shortly and shook his head. "Those are really good statistics, you know."

"About average?" Rey asked innocently.

He stared at her. "No," he said flatly. "One. That's average. Once. Maybe twice, on a really good night."

She grinned mischievously. "Oh. Well, this is normal for me, so we're going to have carry on like this every night."

"I may have set the bar unreasonably high," he said dryly.

She giggled. "Maybe we can compromise. But not now. I'm not in a compromising mood right now."

"Just what kind of mood are you in?" he said into her ear, nibbling on her earlobe.

She beamed at him. "You know. A sparkly mood."

"I can feel you," she breathed, with wonder in her eyes.

He snorted. "Well, I certainly hope so."

"No, I mean, I can sense you. In the Force. It's like a switch just turned on inside me. I know what you're feeling." Rey felt a wave wash over her—but the wave didn't recede, and instead stayed with her. It was like new data had just uploaded into her computer core. She knew what she was thinking and feeling, but suddenly she could access his emotions as well. And one of the things he was now feeling, she realized, was apprehension.

She pulled away slightly. "What's wrong? You're worried about something."

"No, no," he assured her, his hands and mouth still busy scouting over her body.

She grabbed his hands and held them, staring into his eyes. "Poe, don't keep things from me. What are you thinking about?"

He met her stare with his own. "Don't read my mind," he whispered.

"I can't," she murmured back. "I can sense your emotions, that's all."

"That's a lot." He paused. "Don't do that."

Rey furrowed her brow. "But it makes me feel…very connected to you. I like it." She smiled teasingly. "You really like me. Lust is a very powerful emotion. It's turned you from orange into red."

"Huh?"

"I see people's Force auras as colors, sort of. You're a rich orange, usually. You turned dark red last night."

Now it was his turn to smile mischievously. "I'm still a little bit 'red' for you."

"Yeah, a little," she smirked. Then she turned serious. "What scared you?"

Poe looked away. "Kylo Ren read my mind when he captured me. Invaded my mind. It was a very intimate attack and I really don't want it repeated, ever, even in a nice way by you."

Rey looked down at their still-entwined fingers. She finally let go and took his face tenderly in her hands. "I would never—never—do that to you. I know what you're talking about, he did it to me too, but I'd never reach into your mind like that." She felt his body and mind relax. She went on, "Master Luke explained that Jedi can learn to sense emotions, in a pretty general way—they can tell if someone's being deceptive, or hateful, or trustworthy. But I've not been able to do that very well, 'til now."

He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his face into her hair. "Okay."

"And according to Luke, the Jedi can mainly sense emotions if they're unusual."

He kept his arms where they were, and rested his cheek on her shoulder. "What d'you mean, unusual?"

She thought about how to explain a sixth sense to a man with five. She decided to paraphrase Luke's lesson on the subject. "You remember the smell of your home on Yavin, right? Did you always notice your house's smell when you walked in?"

"Only when I'd been away from a long time. Otherwise, no, not really."

"But what if there was bread baking in the kitchen? Or a dead animal rotting there? Then the smell would be the first thing you'd notice, before sights or sounds or anything else."

"Right," he said, comprehending. "So if a person's emotions are extreme, you pick up on them."

She shrugged. "Well, a Jedi master can. I can just sense Master Luke, and now you." And my mother, she added silently.

"Well," Poe said, trying to optimistic though he was still unsure about how this ability of hers would play out with him, "this'll definitely keep us honest with each other." He changed the subject. "Hey, did you know you talk in your sleep?"

"I do not. Nobody's ever told me that."

He grinned at her. "Everyone you've slept with, one hundred percent of them, say so. You talk a lot, actually." He paused. "Who's Breha?"

She sucked in her breath. "What?"

"Breha. You said that name in you sleep. It rings a bell for me, but I don't know where I've heard it before."

She sidestepped the question. "What else did I say?"

"Uh, something about not being like your father. Or her father. And then you mentioned Darth Vader, and Breha." Poe shrugged. "I said you talked a lot—I didn't say you made any sense."

Rey came to a sudden decision. He was strong. She could rely on him. With a deep breath, she said, "Breha is the name my parents gave me. My brother couldn't pronounce it, so he called me Rey, and the nickname stuck."

At that news, Poe disengaged his arms from her, and sat back. "Finn told me your parents abandoned you when you were little. I thought you didn't remember them."

She shook her head. "That's what I thought, at the time. I've learned more since then. I was kidnapped, not abandoned." She took another deep breath. "Can I tell you a story? It's a secret. You can't repeat it, can't even tell Finn." He nodded, and she began.

"In the Old Republic, there was a Jedi knight named Anakin. He was strong with the Force, but also very lonely. He wanted more than the Jedi Order could offer him, and he fell in love with a senator named Padmé."

"Padmé Amidala?" Poe interrupted. "She was one of the original founders of the Rebellion. She co-wrote the Petition of the 2000 with Mon Mothma and Bail Organa."

"I…suppose. That sounds right. You know more history than I do. Anyway, Padmé and Anakin fell in love, and she became pregnant. At the same time, Anakin was becoming increasingly close to Chancellor Palpatine. When the Republic fell, Anakin sided with Palpatine and left the Jedi ways, and Padmé, behind. He joined the Empire. Palpatine renamed him Darth Vader."

"Are you kidding? Who told you that?" Before Rey could reply, his brain caught up with his mouth. "Wait, are you telling me that Anakin—Vader—had a child? There's a child out there somewhere?"

The corner of her mouth twitched. "Two, actually. Twins. Of course, they're not children anymore. Padmé died in childbirth, surrounded by friends. They decided to separate the babies, in order to hide them from the Emperor. So a Jedi friend took the boy to the middle of nowhere, a planet called Tatooine, and—"

"That's Luke Skywalker's homeworld."

"Yes, I know. And Padmé's friend from the Senate adopted the girl."

Poe blinked a few times, then shook his head violently. "Her friend Senator Organa? That can't be. That would make…that would mean…Rey, you can't be telling me that Leia Organa is…that the leader of the Resistance is Vader's daughter? That's just not possible." Poe turned from her, groped blindly for his shirt and pants. He needed to get out of that sleeping bag, out of the tent, and just walk around. "The last of the Jedi, our hope for the future, is the son of Darth Vader?!" Mostly dressed, he threw the flap of the tent open and started walking.

Rey felt as well as saw his distress, and her own anxiety level spiked in sympathy. She grabbed her clothes and dressed hurriedly. "Poe, stop, please." She gathered their gear, shoved it into her backpack. "Let's take the tent down, at least."

Having paced around in a big circle for a few minutes, Poe returned to the tent and sat back down on the crumpled sleeping bags.

"She spent her whole life fighting the Empire, Rey! Why would she have done that if she was…one of them? Does she even know who she is? How did we all trust her to lead us? How are we supposed to trust her now? Or Luke? I mean…" He trailed off, coming up with twenty questions simultaneously.

Rey swallowed. "She's not 'one of them.' But yes, she knows who she is. So does Luke. He's the one who told me."

"Gods. How could Han Solo have married her? And even have children with her? He must've been out of his mind to risk it."

That did it for Rey. Anxiety blossoming into anger, she jumped up, grabbed the pack, and left the tent. Telling him had obviously been a huge mistake. Rey's fierce protectiveness towards her mother warred in her heart with regret, frustration, and the abrupt loss of something she'd just found. She hadn't even finished telling him the story—and she wasn't going to now.