It had become part of the weekly routine for Krennic to bring in breakfast on a Wednesday.

Galen rarely took the time to actually eat. To him, it was more useful to spend the time working. It was often only the obligation to see Jyn fed that kept him eating.

So when Krennic had started bringing him breakfast he'd appreciated the opportunity to relax for a moment, confusing though it had first been, and eat.

Perhaps, he had realised, Krennic was actually interested in him - why that was the case, though, was anybody's guess. Regardless, he was grateful for someone around his own age to talk to each morning. He liked him; he was affable, attentive, and he often knew enough about the things that occupied Galen's thoughts to formulate a sensible response.

As much as he adored his daughter, one could only take a conversation about solar cells with an eight-year-old so far.

On that day, Krennic came in at 12, on the dot. Every previous visit, he'd come in at either 7:58, or a few minutes before closing. Galen found himself smiling.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Orson?"

"It's lunch time."

"We do baguettes."

"You really don't have much of an imagination sometimes, Galen." Krennic smiled slowly, as though he was waiting for Galen to arrive at a conclusion on his own. He blinked. "Come out, you need the fresh air."

"Out?"

"For lunch." A pause. "It's my treat."

Galen inspected him cautiously. It was no secret that Bodhi mistrusted Orson, though for anything other than The Almond Milk Incident, as he'd dubbed it, was dubious. As far as Galen was aware, Orson had only the best, if slightly confusing, intentions. He was a little difficult to read sometimes - clearly broadcast, however, was the fact that this was intentional - but he clearly had some sort of interest in pursuing... something with Galen. He could, indeed, do with a few moments out of work, and Bodhi was coping fine…

"I'll be back in a bit, Bodhi," Galen said. Bodhi looked up at him, shock reading clearly on his face, like he'd just said he was about to go jump off a cliff. Dumbly, he nodded, and Galen smiled, grabbing his overcoat from where it sat in the booth where he did his work, and tugging it on.

Orson looked positively chuffed.

Out on the street, there was a light drizzle, which Orson didn't bother putting up his umbrella for.

"Busy day?" he asked, glancing up at Galen with a cautious smile.

He nodded. "There's an environmental science student that comes in sometimes, and she did today. It's rare I get to have a proper conversation with a customer."

"How nice. I imagine you can't very well start babbling to Bodhi about hydroelectricity."

Galen smiled. Several times shortly after Lyra's death he'd done just that. It wasn't that Bodhi didn't care to listen; it was that he could only receive "oh, really, how fascinating" as a response so many times. "Not exactly. Solar was really my passion, though."

"Are you telling me you're a barista and a proponent of solar power? Mr Erso, I believe you're a hipster."

They laughed. Orson's genuine laugh made him look much less tightly-laced. Galen liked it.

"This from an architect who missed an opportunity to turn the roof of his creation into a giant battery. I'm not a hipster; you're small-minded."

Orson smirked in response. "If only I had known that a couple of years down the line my choices would be questioned by a cafe owner." He sighed dramatically. "Well, hindsight is 20/20."

"Is there a reason you didn't?" Galen asked. "Incorporate solar, I mean."

"A few. It's never been my greatest priority, truthfully, but aesthetics matter a great deal, as well as what our clients actually ask for."

"Big business," Galen said tiredly. He shook his head. Solar cells were usually a plain, sleek black. That would have fit perfectly with the aesthetic of the Rothschild bank building, as well as making it somewhat less of a blight on London's already atrocious energy usage. In another life he could have formed a proposal, had Lyra help him so he didn't accidentally say something offensive to an important person, and approached the bank himself to ask if perhaps they'd consider the addition to their headquarters… In this life, however, it simply made him sad and tired.

"Should I be offended?" Krennic asked, quirking an eyebrow. "I am, in fact, a potential partner. Does that make me one of them ?"

Galen grunted in thought. "No," he said, after a moment. "You're listening to a so-called hipster about his opinions on solar power. I believe that makes you different."

"That makes me different," he repeated, as though it were a point of pride.

For a moment - Galen still drifting in his thoughts; Lyra was always so good at formulating his thoughts and ideas into sentences that were more easily digested by the people he tried to speak to - they walked side by side in silence.

When they arrived at a small Vietnamese place, Orson strolled confidently in. It was open to the air, a few overhead gas heating units providing the only warmth.

The drizzle had been falling more steadily as they walked. England was especially unreceptive to solar for that reason; many had accepted the falsehood that rain stopped it from being effective, when on the contrary, rain in fact helped cells keep clean of dust and grime.

"So am I to take it that you drive a Prius?" Krennic was asking as they sat. Galen blinked a few times.

"God, no." He smiled. "It might make me a hypocrite, but I've always liked vintage cars."

Galen looked at Orson, who was grinning. "Really?"

"I have a '77 Camaro convertible."

He'd bought it cheap shortly before he met Lyra and restoring it had been a pet project of his. That car was like an old friend to him - it was currently stored with an old work friend outside of London. One of Galen's greatest pleasures was to take Jyn out there on his rare weekends off and drive for hours, showing her the countryside.

"You what ?"

Sheepishly, Galen nodded. "It's not like I spent an exorbitant amount on it. Well, not at the outset. Fixing it up definitely…"

He stopped. Orson was chuckling quietly.

"You don't need to defend your vices to me, Galen. I just… didn't quite have you pegged as a petrolhead."

In response, he gave a self-deprecating shrug. "Not quite. I only see him once every couple of months."

" Him ?"

Galen smiled. "Shh."

A waiter quietly sidled up to their table and asked if they were ready. Without hesitation, Orson ordered several dishes, and when the waiter left, gave Galen a nonchalant smile. "We can share."

Galen was quiet for a moment, feeling, suddenly, as though he was on a date.

"So how about you, Orson? Have you got any embarrassing vices?"

Orson leaned back, steepling his fingers with a look of satisfaction on his face. "I have a car, if that's what you mean," he said, smirking. "Haven't given it a name, though."

"What is it?" Galen asked, sitting up straighter.

"It's a Maserati Ghibli. Perhaps not the flashiest ever, but it does the job." This he said with ironic amusement. "A white 2014 model. I could have a company car with Imperial if I wished, but I find the idea of being one of a fleet of black BMWs a little bit gauche."

It was Galen's turn to laugh. Orson looked slightly affronted.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing." Galen sighed, leaning back again. "It's just that I'm impressed by your good taste."

Eyes narrowed, Orson's smirk shifted. "Fine, then, we'll see whose handles better one day."

"One day," Galen agreed.


Bodhi shoved a forkful of rice and vegetables in his mouth as an espresso shot ran into a paper cup in front of him. Business had picked up in the few minutes after Galen left. It was fine, though; Bodhi could probably count on his hands the number of times he'd taken a lunch break in the past few months.

The two hours Galen had been gone had passed without incident, save for a baguette being burned when Bodhi forgot about it. But once he'd managed to make the smoke detector stop beeping, everything was fine. Mostly.

"Have a nice day," Bodhi said as he shoved a lid on the Americano he'd made. "Wait, no, I-" He sighed. "Americano. Thank you, sir."

The slightly confused businessman nodded in thanks as he collected his drink and went for the door. Finally Bodhi had a moment to himself, and grabbing his Tupperware container, sank to the floor to finish his lunch in peace. He stabbed a piece of green pepper and lifted it to his mouth.

The doorbell tinkled as someone opened it. Swearing under his breath, Bodhi got to his feet.

"-besides, the logistics of trying to retrofit solar when we've already done all the construction and wiring would be an absolute nightmare."

Krennic held the door for Galen as the two of them walked in, Galen shucking off his coat. Bodhi sighed in relief, but dusted off his pants anyway. He leaned against the counter and continued eating.

"All I'm saying is you could consider it."

"I could," Krennic conceded, hovering expectantly near Galen as he tossed his coat into his work booth.

"Thank you for lunch, anyway, Orson. I enjoyed myself."

Krennic nodded, smiling warmly. "As did I. I'll see you tomorrow."

After a quiet moment passed between them, Krennic left. Galen looked up at Bodhi with a quizzical frown.

"Good lunch?" Bodhi asked awkwardly.

Galen nodded, sitting back down to get back to work. Through the afternoon, more than once Bodhi noticed a smile creeping across his face.


That evening, when Galen had picked Jyn up from her babysitter's, and was making dinner, she sat in the dining room doing homework.

"What's eight times twelve?"

"Aren't we meant to be learning those ourselves?"

Galen wasn't a flirtatious person - perhaps, until that day, the only person who would ever say any differently was Lyra. But at lunch with Orson, he'd found himself cracking jokes and laughing along with Orson's. It had been nice, but it left him firmly in completely unfamiliar territory.

"Ninety-four?"

"Not quite."

Jyn knit her brow, and he felt an intense inundation of love for her. In so many respects, she was just like Lyra, and that expression was one of them.

"Ninety-six."

"Good job."

The two of them were happy, and comfortable, together. Sometimes it was lonely, but he could gladly exist only with and for Jyn for the rest of her days, if that was what she needed. On the other hand, though, if she had the space in her heart for someone new in their lives, he would much more readily accept that. If Orson could handle a child, excellent. If he couldn't, it would be a necessary loss.

Still, Orson knew about Jyn and apparently hadn't been dissuaded yet.

"Can I ask you something, Stardust?"

She put down her pencil and frowned up at him. His tone had been too serious. Sighing, he sat down, and offered her his hand. She took his little finger in one fist and his thumb in the other, staring at him.

"Do we have to move?" she asked very soberly. He laughed despite himself.

All through Jyn's earliest years, before they'd settled down and opened the cafe, Galen and Lyra had had to relocate every several months; such was the life of a passionate scientist. Jyn had hated it, and he knew she still dreaded the prospect of relocating yet again. They hadn't moved in four years now, and the thought of abandoning the home in which Lyra had lived her final years felt like sacrilege.

"No, of course not."

She sighed, shaking her head. "You can't scare me like that, Papa!"

"I'm sorry," he murmured. She turned his hand over in hers and decisively kissed the back of it. He was forgiven. "It's… it's nothing like that."

"What, then?"

"You know that grown-ups… sometimes, they…" He wracked his brain. "When they don't have a husband or a wife for a long time, they might want to… find a new one."

Jyn's face fell slightly. It very nearly killed his courage.

"Not replacements for the lost ones," he added hurriedly. "Because there's no way to replace a person. But… I…"

Unexpectedly, he felt tears welling in the corners of his eyes. He bit his tongue and forced himself to take a breath.

"What would you think if Papa perhaps went out with someone? Just to get to know them."

That the "them" in question was actually a "he" would have to be addressed, too, of course, but that was a conversation for another day.

A badly disguised look of disdain crossed her face. "Okay," she said.

"Not straight away, necessarily," he said. "Just… if I were to meet somebody."

"Okay," she repeated, nodding, letting go of his hand. She returned to her homework and appeared to already have forgotten it.

He'd always been a terrible liar, but half of that statement had been true - it wasn't as though Orson had officially said anything at lunch, no matter what Galen's suspicions were.

The second half, however, was not exactly a lie. But certainly - undeniably - it implied something that wasn't exactly true, either. He'd said if he were to meet someone.

He didn't need to tell her yet that he suspected he already had.