He vaguely noticed that something was tickling on his lips; he slowly woke up, half-caught in a dream he couldn't remember. Something about the Finalizer. His drowsiness vanished when he realised that Tico was lying in front of him, her overalls pressed against his uniform. Apparently they had turned in the night.

The appropriate thing was to scoot away of course. But then she would wake up. Yes, she- she was exhausted and needed the sleep. It was more reasonable to let her rest.

No … that wasn't true. He just wanted to feel her beside him. He brushed her hair out of his face and closed his eyes again. It didn't matter if he allowed himself this one respite. Nobody would know.

ooOOoo

The next time he woke he was startled by a clap of thunder. He felt guilty when he discovered that they were still lying right next to each other. He sucked in his breath when she looked over her shoulder, staring at him. Before she should say anything he looked away, unable to meet her gaze.

She crawled to the cone with the larvae or rather what was left of them after dinner and started to build a fire near the entrance of the shelter.

After they had eaten they sat next to each other, staring at the slowing dying flames.

She stretched her one good arm and groaned. "Guess you don't have a raincoat in there," she said and pointed to the backpack.

He leaped at the chance of conversation and tried to give her something akin to a smile. "Don't you think I would've procured it by now, specialist?"

Her eyebrow rose and she grabbed a small stone. "You're a jerk. It's entirely possible that you didn't want to share it with rebel scum." Her tone was friendly. She played with the stone and looked at him.

"Petty insults? I guess I shouldn't be surprised," he playfully responded.

She nodded towards the backpack. "But there is some jacket in it, isn't there?"

He shrugged. "It's my great coat – and before you ask: it's made of wool. So it will be soaked in a matter of minutes."

She let the stone wander over her fingers before she threw it away. "Well, this sucks. But since we're running out of food …" She started to crawl towards the entrance. "And I'll go alone, you need to get better so you can climb up that tree."

"You're in no position to-" he tried to interject.

"I know!" Without looking back she went out.

He frowned. Had he insulted her in some way he didn't realise? He sighed. It didn't matter. She was right. He was still a little ill and if they wanted to fix the comm he had to get better. He scoffed when he thought of climbing up a tree. With his luck he would fall down and break his neck.

He got on his feet and tried to rearrange the branches and leaves to fix the roof, then after a while he sat down again. It was futile – at least with the materials he had.

He was tempted to go out, to look for something to build a better shelter but it was still raining.

ooOOoo

When the rain let up after an hour he hurried out of the shelter and looked around for bigger leaves. He collected a few and when he felt the rain starting again he returned to camp. One plant on the way back caught his attention. He stopped and looked at it – its leaves looked familiar but he couldn't remember why.

In the spur of the moment he broke a branch of the bush off and hurried inside the shelter. He used the big leaves to plug the leaky roof as well as he could. With a huff he sat down and took the branch of the bush. Upon closer inspection they looked like tea leaves.

He ripped some leaves off and ground them between his thumb and his forefinger. When he smelled the leaves he smiled a little, because they smelled like the teas he usually drank. At least there was a high probability that it was really tea. Suddenly the prospect of having a cup of tea seemed worth the risk of poisoning.

If he was cautious, he should be able to determine if it was indeed tea. He started a small fire and put the pot on it – he only added a little water, as there was no need to waste it, after all. He put one leaf into the boiling water and waited for a bit before he dunked his twig-fork into the liquid. He licked the water off the wood and tried to process the taste – if he didn't know better, he would've thought it was low-quality Tarine tea.

He waited for about an hour and busied himself with a piece of alloy he had found in one of the shuttles, and with some difficulty he managed to bend it into a cup-like shape. He was satisfied with the result and smiled to himself.

As he didn't feel sick he decided that the tea was safe. He stoked the fire again and boiled some more water and added more leaves.

Just when he was about to fill his cup with the freshly made tea, Specialist Tico entered. She was soaking wet and held a cone full of larvae and sat down, eyeing him with curiosity.

He smelled the tea, then he blew a few times on it before taking a sip – it tasted a little stronger than before. It was nothing short of delicious.

She put the cone into a dry corner and rubbed her hand on her overalls. "How does it taste?"

"Bitter," he said and took another sip.

"Too bad that we don't have any sweetener."

He inhaled the scent. "I don't mind. I actually like my tea bitter."

"I'm more a caf kind of person. When I'm working I usually drink about seven cups."

"I usually drink three cups of Tarine tea a day. It helps me focus."

She held her hand over the fire and shuddered a little. "And how did you determine that these leaves are tea?"

He sat up a little straighter. "I grated them and smelled. The aroma was quite similar to teas I know."

She hummed. "You didn't happen to find caf plants? Ugh, I want a cup of the strongest caf so badly!"

He almost smiled. "I didn't stray that far."

"Well, I'll take the next best thing," she said and reached out with her hand.

He gave her the cup and watched how she grimaced after the first sip. She looked cute when she wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue.

He laughed. "It's an acquired taste."

"Thanks, but no thanks." She handed him the cup back. "You seem better."

He took another sip. "I think my fever has finally broken."

She leaned forward and checked his chest injury by pulling his jacket down. „Looks good, so when the rain lets up we can try to get up that tree," she said and held out her splint.

He fastened her splint. He noticed right away that her skin lacked its usual warmth. "Your arm, it's cold."

She just shrugged. "Well yeah, but at least we have something to eat. But I admit my clothes feel quite clammy." She hugged herself and rubbed over her arms, then she sighed and grabbed the backpack. After a bit of rummaging she pulled his greatcoat out.

Hux continued drinking his tea taken aback when she unzipped her overalls and started to wriggle out of the wet clothes right in front of him. She was right of course. There was nothing to it – back in the academy he had shared a few rooms with female soldiers … but here he felt uneasy and strangely guilty.

She wrapped the coat around her small frame and sat down next to the fire. He ladled another cup of tea and registered that she was glaring at him, her fingers played with a silver medallion she wore around her neck. It seemed that she looked right past him, clearly musing about something.

He eyed the jewellery. "What kind of medallion is that?"

She looked down on it, rubbing over its ornaments with her thumb. "I don't want to talk about it," she said quietly.

Hux became curious. "Was it the traitor's gift to you?" He wasn't sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

"What about your customized hidden dagger? Was it a gift?" she replied hotly.

He frowned. Why was she so hostile now? "It wasn't a gift. I bought it myself after- a special occasion."

He waited for her to react to his statement, but she just continued to stare at the medallion. Just when he thought she didn't hear him, she sniffled and lowered her head just enough that he couldn't see her eyes.

Hux licked his lips and straightened himself. He hadn't expected her to react so strongly to his question. Again he felt guilty. "I-it's a monomolecular blade," he stammered in an attempt to ignore her emotional outburst. "It's not as stable as steel but much lighter and sharper. The handle is made from Arkanian oak. Wood might be a bit archaic but the grip is much better in my opinion."

She lifted her head. Her eyes seemed wet. "It's light, much lighter than my knife back at h-home."

Ah, it seemed that she was feeling better already. Emboldened he continued on the topic. "I could imagine that you use your knife for work? So it- it would make sense that it would be heavier and sturdier."

She rubbed her good hand on her trousers. "Well, it's a multi-tool thing, with different blades. It's easier to cut wire with it than with a wire-cutter."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Hux tried to think of something to add, but nothing came to mind. Social interactions really weren't his strong suit, he thought bitterly.

"I guess we have run out of things to say about knives," she said. There was mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"Honestly I'm a bit surprised, it's such an interesting topic," retorted Hux dryly. He fleetingly thought of his father and his endless monologues. "My first commander could go on about blasters and knives for hours."

She stifled a laughter, the sound gave Hux butterflies in his stomach. He- he had cheered her up!

Tico gave him a barely noticeable smile. "My dad always talked about mining equipment. The worst part was that mum was into it, too. But then it's all they've ever known and cared about. Trade disease I guess. Needless to say, our table talk was a bit dull."

Hux leaned against the tree and exhaled. "Yes, it was … dull. But my father wouldn't stop-"

He noticed his mistake the moment the words had left his mouth – of course she caught on.

"Your father? But didn't you just say-"

Kriff! "I misspoke. I- well, my father was my first commander," he said quickly. Perhaps that would throw her off.

"I see – the food wasn't that great either to be honest, my mum was a terrible cook. But now I would give my right arm to have some of her stew."

He almost couldn't believe that it had worked. He cleared his throat. "I liked the rations well enough."

By the stars! Why couldn't he just answer more casually?

She leaned forward. "You know what I would like to eat right now? Huttese noodles with bogweed! It sounds gross, but it has a zing to it."

He wanted to add something meaningful, but again he couldn't think of anything to say. After a few moments he just said: "Ration bars would be enough for me."

Specialist Tico took the cone with the larvae and poured them into the pot. "Well, this is all we got."

For a moment he thought about saying something along the line of "at least the company is good," but even in his imagination it sounded cringeworthy. He recalled her laughter and wished he could hear it once again.