Something was wrong.

Rey heard plastic clink, then a soft thud, which meant that Kylo was throwing pens at the design proofs again. There was a long, irritated sigh, then the sound of ceramic meeting glass as he set down his coffee cup for the eighth time in the last five minutes.

After turning on the hotplate to warm up the second cup of coffee she had made for him, Rey checked the notes she took during the Coronet Durasteel design meeting, and rolled her eyes at the typical vague descriptions they had given about what they wanted their ad campaign to look like.

"Client requested that the design pop, stand out, look youthful and interesting to attract new customers, but without alienating current buyers. Bright colors, but not too bright. Fresh, but also traditional. They'll know it when they see it."

No wonder the design team and Kylo were stumped. And why Hux had gleefully transferred such a big account in exchange for the smaller, more specific Ti'mere's InfoServices.

"Here. Now." His voice sounded more tired than demanding, but she shot her phone speaker a glare anyway. Three weeks in and he had yet to use her actual name.

Reminding herself that the fact he hadn't shouted or destroyed his entire office recently was a sign of process.

Baby steps, baby steps, she chanted internally, before stepping into his office with the back-up coffee and a bright, professional smile.

"How can I help?"

He gestured to the three poster boards on easels in front of him. "Which one?"

Rey blinked at him for a moment before pointing to herself. "You're asking me?"

"No, the other person I called into the room," he snapped irritatedly, but his tone lack its usual edge. "Yes, you."

Raising an eyebrow at him in rebuke, she turned to study the designs in front of her.

"Well?" Kylo prompted after she had stared at them a good while, taking a sip of his coffee. He made a face at the temperature, then looked up to ask her for a new one and saw the mug being dangled in front of him, Rey still staring at the proofs.

"Honestly? None of them."

He rubbed his face in exasperation, took the new mug and repeated, "None of them?"

"They're all too… modern."

Eyes flashing dangerously, he swiveled to glare at her. "They asked for modern. They asked for youthful and trendy and sleek and modern. This is exactly what they asked for."

"It's exactly what the rep asked for. Not the CEO."

Running his hand through his hair, he grit his teeth. "What does the CEO have to do with anything?"

"Remember the old guy on the call? Kept interrupting and talking over everyone?"

Kylo frowned in thought.

"You called him an arrogant douchebag after the call ended?" Rey reminded him with a sigh.

He pursed his lips, then ceded, "Maybe."

"He's a total control freak. So the rep may be the one requesting the designs, but that guy's the one vetoing them. The rep may want 'youthful and trendy', but the CEO just wants the same ads that they've always had, but with a fresh coat of paint."

He stared at her for a moment, then turned to his computer. "Well, what do his old ads look-"

A printout of ads from Durasteel's website landed on his desk, causing him to glance up to meet Rey's self-satisfied smile.

He looked between the papers and designs, then tapped his fingers on his desk.

"You sure about this?"

"Have I been wrong yet?" She countered, lifting her eyebrows wryly.

Letting out a long breath, he sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"Alright, wipe that smirk off your face and email the design team those old ads. Tell them brighter colors, high res photos, but make them feel the same."

Nodding, Rey started back toward her desk, then paused and bit her lip as Kylo started massaging his temples.

She returned a minute later with a glass of water and two aspirin, setting them down in front of his keyboard so he had to stop typing. He stared blearily at the tablets, then swallowed them with only a minimal scowl in Rey's direction. As he drank the water, Rey crossed her arms and asked, "Would you like me to order you some food?"

He shot her a suspicious glare. "Why?"

Raising an eyebrow, she answered, "Because you've been here for ten hours and you skipped lunch?"

He considered her for a long moment, as if debating her sincerity.

"There's a Thai place down the way that delivers late," she offered with a slight grin.

Letting out a sigh of defeat, he told her, "Pad Thai. Chicken."

Rey smiled. "Sounds good."

"Get yourself something too."

She halted, one hand on the door, then looked back. "Me?"

"If I've been here ten hours, you've been here longer. Yes you."

Watching him with something akin to surprise, she blinked, then said softly, "Thank you."

Frowning, he responded, "I'm telling you to eat, not giving you a Nobel prize. Now hurry up and order. I'm starved."

Biting back a laugh at the old Kylo coming through, Rey went back to her desk, unable to stop the happy smile tugging at her mouth.

"...the Durasteel rep wants to expand the contract for three more designs, so legal's working on that today and will hopefully have it tomorrow by lunch, and then we have a call with Incom-FreiTek at 3. Oh, and did you bring your passport?"

Kylo's inattentive nodding suddenly stopped. "...Why?"

Rey frowned at him. "Because you and Phasma have the big Kashyyyk Oil convention you're attending next week? And it's in Canada, so I need it to book your flight?"

He shifted in his chair, then told her brusquely, "I'll do it myself."

Rey raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Oh, will you now."

"Yes. I will. How hard can it be?" He snapped at her, which oddly seemed to amuse her.

"Alright. You let me know how that goes for you," she told him with an irritating air of superiority, heading to her desk. "I'll just be out here."

Forty minutes later, the profanities echoing from her phone speaker were getting worse.

"I've already entered my employee reference number, you kriffing moron! I'm just trying to use the miles I already- What do you mean I need to enter my damn social security number again? Why do I need to- wait, no, no, no! Don't time out on me you son of a lousy rotten-"

The sound of his monitor hitting the floor was jarring, but not unsurprising. Rey poked her head in his office door and tried not to sound too smug as she asked, "Anything I can do to help?"

Head still in his hands, he groaned, "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Enjoying what?" Rey asked, voice far too innocent.

He lifted his head enough to scowl at her. "I hate you."

Rey shrugged and started to close the door. "Alright, well, if you don't want my help…"

"Stop. Wait."

She turned around slowly and saw him holding out his passport while staring at his desk. Rolling her eyes, because, honestly, how difficult was it to listen to her in the first place, she took it and flipped open the cover.

Staring up at her was Kylo's face, but without his five o' clock shadow or the lines near his eyes. She scanned his height and weight and suddenly stopped at his name.

Benjamin Tynan Organa-Solo.

Glancing up, she saw the tension in his shoulders as he waited for her to comment on either family name (the Senator Organa? The racing legend Solo?).

"Benjamin, huh?"

He looked at her in ill-concealed surprise. "Only my mother calls me that," he muttered.

"Ben," she amended, trying out the taste of it on her tongue, then smiled softly at him. "It suits you."

When he did nothing but watch her, almost waiting for the other shoe to drop, Rey gave him a definitive nod, then said, "I'll book those for you in just a mo."

Still suspicious, he called after here, "You tell anyone about this, I'll-"

"Throw your computer on the ground?"

They both peered down to see the fallen screen sporting a large crack from corner to corner.

Shaking her head a little, Rey added, "I'll call IT and get them to bring you a new one..."

She let the door swing almost closed, then added, "... Ben," in a low, pleased tone, missing the odd look that flashed across his face.

After squinting at his screen for several hours, Kylo gave up trying to discern which font Hraki Adventure Motors would prefer and since it was now 12:23, decided to finally listen to his growling stomach.

(Strange, she usually paged him right at noon to remind him to eat, if only so he could tell her that he didn't need to and to butt out of his business. She never listened, and he was oddly miffed by the absence of the cheerful reminder today.)

"Heading to lunch," he told her brusquely as he passed her desk, and he swore that she jumped a little.

"Oh, um, yes. Okay. See… see you later." She managed, and he thought she sounded fairly distracted.

(He'd have to mention that to her later, if only because he hardly ever got the chance to tell her something before she had somehow one-upped him.)

He made it all the way to his car before he realized that his keys were in his jacket pocket, which was conveniently hanging in his office. Palming his phone, he considered calling her, then opted to swing back and deliver some razor sharp wit in person. Now he just had to think of a clever way to reply to a mumbled 'see you later'.

When the elevator doors opened, he was half-disappointed, half-relieved that she wasn't at her desk, since he hadn't come up with any witty repertoire yet.

(Everything felt oddly… empty, without her attending her post. Too quiet. Too… wrong.)

Figuring she must have gone for lunch too, he muttered to himself about assistants getting far too much leeway about being away from their desk and swung open his door, only to find Rey sitting in his chair in the corner, sobbing quietly to herself.

Both of them froze, then Rey burst out, "I am so sorry, I- I thought you had left for lunch already and no one would be in here and you wouldn't mind, I'm so sorry, I'll go, just let me-"

She attempted to grab her purse, which then fell on the floor, spilling its contents on the floor and causing Rey to cry again, this time with a edge of frustration.

He came forward and knelt down, trying to think of what the hell he should do.

"I forgot my keys," he ended up saying, which his brain very quickly identified as definitely very unhelpful.

She sniffed loudly, then winced, "Of course. They're in your jacket pocket. I should have reminded you, I'm so sorry, I-"

"Rey," he said softly, placing his hand on hers.

They both stiffened at the electricity in the touch, then she lifted her hazel eyes to meet his.

"That's the first time you've said my name."

Almost as if commanded, he said it again. "Rey. What's going on?"

Wiping her face, she stared at the ground and shook her head. "It's nothing, honest, I should just go, I'm sor-"

"Stop apologizing," he interrupted firmly, then tried to gentle his tone. "Just… talk to me."

When she didn't answer, he looked around and offered her the box of tissues from his desk. Taking one, she blew her nose, then balled the tissue up and tossed it at the trash, making a face when it missed by a mile.

So quietly he almost didn't hear, she finally whispered, "My sort-of gran died two years ago today."

Sitting back on his heels, he let out a long breath, then asked, "Sort-of?"

(His brain again defined that statement as not only unhelpful, but bordering on insensitive.)

"Foster system, bad homes, group homes, one good home, eventually adopted, long and heart-wrenching tale, blah blah blah. Maz basically raised me since I was fifteen and… for a long time, she was the only one that cared about me."

(Resisting the urge to punch the past in the face, because even he know that would be the opposite of help right now, he forced himself to breathe and listen.)

"And I know it's been two years, and you think it would have stopped hurting by now, right? I was doing okay until one of my friends texted me something really nice, and then I wanted to tell her, but I can't."

Fresh sobs racked her body, and with careful hesitation, he reached out to awkwardly pat her back, eventually shifting his movements to slow circles.

"I'm sorry," he told her softly.

(Finally, his internal voice snarked.)

Shaking her head, she took another tissue and started, "It's o-", then stopped, wiped her eyes, and changed it to, "Thanks."

After a few moments, she sat up and gave him a watery smile. "I'm alright now. Promise."

He felt oddly reluctant to stop rubbing soft circles on her back, which made him snatch his hand away all the quicker.

"Well, good." He mumbled, then cast around for what to say next. "You'll need to be able to see if you're going to drive home."

She blinked up at him. "Huh?"

"I'm saying go home. Take the rest of the day."

"What? No! No, there's still so many things, you have that Adventure Motors proof meeting with the design team at 2, and then-"

"Rey." He wasn't sure how to categorize the feeling he got in the pit of his stomach when he said her name, or what was happening to him when her eyes looked this vulnerable, this fragile.

"You're in pain. Go home and let it pass." He told her once he was certain his voice was under control.

He watched her start to shake her head, then added, "Or do I need to fire you and then rehire you tomorrow?"

She gave a weak laugh, which reassured him somewhat, then replied hoarsely, "As if you could survive without me."

"I'll have you know I could do my job effectively and efficiently long before you got here."

"Barely." She snarked with a sniff, meeting his gaze with a small grin. "I've seen the stats."

Ignoring the tug at the corner of his mouth at the appearance of her usual spark, he stood and offered her his hand. "Home. Now. And I'm alerting security that you're not allowed in until nine am."

After a moment, he asked quietly, "Do you need a ride?"

Standing and stretching, she gathered her fallen purse. "I'm okay. Thank you though."

She placed one hand on the doorknob, then looked back. "Thanks for everything, Ben," she added quietly, and he did his very best to ignore his stomach's somersaults at how his birth name sounded on her lips.

"Any time," he offered sincerely, surprising both of them.

With one last glance, she closed the door behind her, and he watched through the vertical window parallel to his door as she wiped her eyes and walked to the elevator, the office already feeling emptier without her.

Sitting heavily in his chair, trying to ignore the tingling in his hand and the scent of vanilla and brown sugar lingering around him, he ran his hand across his face and wondered why it felt like the world had somehow shifted beneath him.

The next morning, right at 9 o'clock (so maybe she had gotten to the parking lot at 8:30 and waited half an hour, but lazing about at home while Ben was definitely at work made her antsy), she strolled into the office, slightly relieved that no one was giving her strange or overly sympathetic looks from her absence yesterday.

As she came out of the elevator, she suddenly stopped at the beautiful arrangement of flowers adorning the corner of her desk. There were white lilies, pink carnations, bronze chrysanthemums, large purple flowers and a smaller vermilion blooms, and no card anywhere. Sitting down slowly, she noticed a Starbucks cup, still hot, labeled 'White Chocolate Mocha' in front of her keyboard. Frowning in confusion, because not even Finn knew her guilty pleasure coffee order, she swivelled her chair around to peer in through Ben's window.

Almost as if he could sense it, he looked up and met her incredulous gaze. She glanced at her coffee and flowers, then pointed at him questioningly. He gave a half-embarrassed shrug, then glanced back down at his work. A few moments later, he peeked back up and saw her watching him with overbright eyes, as she took a long breath and mouthed, "Thank you."

Fighting the odd tightness in his chest, he nodded gruffly, then went back to his computer screen. But every now and then, he'd see her turn to answer the phone or greet a visitor, then catch sight of the flowers. Every time, she stroked the vase softly with a secret, warm smile, which made his heart rate suddenly increase for no apparent reason.

"Too much coffee," he muttered, burying himself in work.

Then, after pulling up what looked a page on the meaning of flowers, she turned around and gave him a tearful, brilliant smile, one that didn't just speed up his heart, but caused it to skip a beat altogether, startling him enough to knock over his pen jar.

As he grabbed at the escaped pens and pencils, feeling the heat creep over his face, he decided then and there:

Definitely too much caffeine.

(He refused to consider any other… humiliating reasons.)

Benjamin means "son of my sorrow"

Tynan is Irish for "darkness"

A white stargazer lily symbolizes sympathy.

A pink carnation stands for remembrance.

The purple hyacinth is a popular symbol of sorrow.

Chrysanthemums are often used as an expression of support or encouragement.

The gladiolus is a beautiful representation of strength and character.