Author's Notes…

Sorry for the slight delay, everyone. Time got away from me! Been a busy last few days.

Falling for the Enemy

Chapter Eleven

Touching, Discovering You

One.

The autumn wind pulled at Ben's hair. He was watching the lake, where the water was rippling in waves. There were drying tear tracks on his face, but new tears were making it impossible to stay that way. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides—what he always did when he was angry.

Two.

Ben stood at his mother's side. His father had his arm around her shoulders. All three were focused on the casket being lowered into the ground, covered in roses and ornaments, so much so that the blanket beneath them couldn't be seen. Gray clouds played on the horizon. The very air was somber… fitting for the event of the day.

Three.

"I know you're upset," Leia said, placing a hand on Ben's shoulder. He was at the window of his grandfather's study, looking down upon the grounds of their castle, and had been for hours. "Please come eat something? Your father and I are very worried about you…"

Breathe.

Anakin smiled, the sun shining behind his head and casting most of his face in shadow. He knelt to Ben's level and gripped his shoulder. Silver threaded his dark brown hair, and he'd cut it short recently, so that it was close to his head. "You are loved, Ben. You are very, very loved. Even by your father. I know that's not what you want to hear…"

It will be all right.

"Oh, I missed you while you were away at school!" Padmé grasped Ben up from under his arms and swung him onto her hip. Anakin laughed and ruffled Ben's hair, Ben's grandparents beaming happily at him. "I wish they would let you be tutored at home. Maybe this year your father will agree, hm?"

I promise.

"Might I buy you a drink?"

Ben looked at the woman in his arms. They were slowly swaying their way around the dancefloor. He had the idea that Rey would be a natural at it, should she ever take classes. She had that sort of grace about her.

"Just the way you look tonight." Tony Bennett's piano keys faded, signaling the end of the song.

Wait, what had she asked him?

To buy him a drink?

His stomach did something it hadn't since—well, ever.

It fluttered and grew tight and warm.

"Are you sure?" he found himself asking.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Her smile spreading, she grabbed his hand and pulled him off the dancefloor. It was parallel to what he had done to her a song ago. He found himself oddly enjoying it. He never let anyone drag him around. He was a prince. "Come on, there's the bar."

"Shots or drinks?" Rey asked, leaning her elbows on the bar top and tapping her fingers to the rhythm of the current song. They had just sat down, and her co-workers had cleared the area. They hadn't been told to, either. Hm.

"I am nearly thirty," he replied. "Drinks, preferably."

Rey grinned, and it was absolutely devious. She knew exactly how to needle him, after all. "That quick to call in defeat? I'm disappointed in you, Solo. I would have never figured you to be a coward."

Ben's eyes narrowed. "Woman, quit testing my patience."

"Well, I'm getting tequila," she said. "Because even though I hate it, and I like vodka much better, I'm going to follow a cliché."

"Aren't shots a cliché?" Ben mumbled.

"What was that?"

"Fine!" he growled. "We'll do shots."

"Great!" She beamed perkily at him. "What do you think will suffice? You do have a race tomorrow… Four each?"

He set his jaw. He knew he had the race, she could see it in his eyes, the deliberation. To lose by leaving and being responsible or stay and win by reclaiming his dignity. Damned woman. She was deuced impossible.

The bartender stood off to the side, waiting for their decision. It wasn't a large bar, and most of the partygoers were drinking the champagne being passed around in flutes. He had time to kill while they debated.

Ben jerked his head in his direction.

The other man got to work.

"What happened to a drink?" Ben murmured to her, having to lean a little closer to her ear to ensure she heard him.

"I realized a drink isn't enough," she replied.

Before he could question what she meant, eight shots were lined up on the bar with salt and limes. Stuart, as it read on his nametag, told them to have fun and resumed washing glasses, which was what he had been up to when they sat down.

"It's going to take more than a drink for us to become comfortable around one another," Rey reasoned. "I figured, what's the quickest way to take the edge off?"

Ben's eyes grew thoughtful. He knew she was right.

"All right," he said at last. "But four only. I do have a race tomorrow."

"Yes, I know, I pointed that out already," Rey said, sprinkling salt on her hand. "Keep up."

She slammed the glass down on the bar, followed swiftly by Ben. He gave her a competitive look.

"This isn't a contest," Rey said. "It's a way of getting to know one another."

"It's a contest," he retorted.

"Yeah, you're right," she agreed.

Salt, lick, tequila, lime, shot glass on the bar.

Rey was flushed already. She paused for a moment, her thoughts having grown somewhat foggy. She'd always been a lightweight. She couldn't detect Ben. He seemed all right on the surface, but who knew what was happening in that head of his?

"I suppose now is the time to talk," Ben said.

Rey grinned and grabbed onto his arm. He raised his eyebrows first at her hands, and then at her. It only served to deepen her grin.

"Hi," she said.

"Hello," he replied cautiously.

"Ready for the third?"

"Yes," he said slowly.

"All right, then, bottoms up!"

Salt, lick, tequila, lime, shot glass on the bar.

"You know, I hated you until you told me you didn't hate me," Rey said, giggling uncontrollably. She slapped a hand against the bar. "I didn't know what to do. It turned my entire world upside down."

"You get distinctly more British when you're drunk," Ben said.

"What?"

"The accent."

"Oh. Yes. Well…"

"I didn't realize I didn't hate you until I said it, either," Ben said. A reluctant smile spread over his mouth, and then he was chuckling. Between that and her giggles, laughter inevitably spread between them a moment later.

"Why did you hate me?" she asked excitedly. "Go on, I must know."

Ben reached for the last shot glass, and she mimicked him.

Salt, lick, tequila, lime, shot glass on the bar.

"Why don't you hate me is the better question?" Judging by Ben's expression, he was getting drunk himself. Not on her level, no, but intoxicated nonetheless.

"What kind of question is that?" Rey giggled.

"I'm terrible," he said. "Everyone hates me." He waved a hand. "I'm an asshole, I'm a douche, I'll die alone because I can't open up to anyone."

"That got real o'clock," Rey laughed.

"Oh, sorry," he laughed in return. "I'm unwanted by most of society, so why did you ask me for a drink and then subsequently renege on said proposal?"

"I don't know, you were being sweet," Rey said. "And you know you're intensely attractive. It made me want to get to know you more."

"I am not intensely attractive," he denied, playing with a shot glass by thumping it against the bar. He kept his eyes on the liquor stacked on shelves. "You are, though."

"I am not," Rey replied. God, could her cheeks get any hotter? "Shut up!" She shoved his arm.

He laughed as he swayed on his stool. "You are!"

"I've got ordinary hair, ordinary eyes, an ordinary height, an ordinary body—"

"You're fucking beautiful," he said.

The wind left her sails.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

She thought she made some approximation of a question mark, her words garbled and nonsensical.

"I am. Let's get some food—get something in your stomach to soak up all that tequila."

"I'm fine! But… food does sound good." She was proud of herself for managing to sound normal and not like a sixteen-year-old at a concert for Justin Bieber. "Here, let me grab my wallet…" She hunted for her clutch, snagged her card, held it out to the bartender—

He shook his head mutely.

"But I'm paying!" she said, confused.

He nodded to Ben.

"Ben!" Rey groaned. "I said I was going to pay!"

"You said you would buy me a drink," he returned. "That was not a drink." He helped her onto her feet, and she shrugged her shawl closer. "Let's go to the car waiting for me. We can order food and wait for it to be delivered to us."

It took Rey a moment to piece together he meant a limo, and that he wanted them to order food from someplace and then presumably eat it in the car.

She shrugged.

Yeah, all right.