August 5, 1964
Ben closed the door of the bathroom and flipped up the lid of the toilet without bothering with the light. It was well past midnight, but the sun had yet to creep over the horizon to lighten the sky. His hotel room still seemed very dark.
He sank wearily to the edge of the tub after flushing, eyes closed and cradling his head in his hands.
With a few deep breaths, Ben assessed himself. He was finally alone for the first time in five days and could think for a moment without his father at his elbow.
He was no longer drunk. His head was clear and he was aware of the cool porcelain against his skin, the tiny tiles beneath his feet, and the chill of the air conditioning pushing out of a vent in the ceiling over his back.
He sighed into the sudden recollection of hiding in the bathroom at night at boarding school, perched on the edge of the toilet with his legs drawn up so no one could see him, the drip of the leaky faucet on the last sink the only sound in the cool, moonlit room.
He hadn't thought of that in years.
It was the last time he'd felt like he was truly alone before now.
Ben peered out of the door. Rey remained curled under the sheet, a slender bump in the middle of the bed.
A slight scowl passed over his features and he bit his lips in consideration. She had drifted into an exhausted sleep while he had lain awake, the hours ticking endlessly by until he could no longer ignore his bladder. Would she rather to be in her own room? Would he rather that she was?
Ben finally returned to the bed, easing onto it in hopes of leaving her undisturbed.
He lay on his back and listened to her breathing. The soft sound was hypnotic, and he was nearly about to drift off when she spoke.
"Do you want me to go?"
Ben curved his body to hers, warm and soft through the thin sheet.
"Only if you want to," he replied.
There was a brief pause while she twined her fingers between his and pulled his arm tight around her. She glanced over her shoulder at him.
"I'm asking what you want," she whispered. Her eyes searched his face as if looking for an answer she didn't want to hear.
Oh, sweet girl. She deserved better. Better than this stupid hotel room, better than him.
"Stay," he whispered back. "Please."
August 7, 1964
Washington, D.C.
"... and Senator, I know you're young, but you should know better than to expect the federal system to dictate law to the states!"
"Bravo!" Finn applauded Mitaka's impression of Ben's opponent with a slow clap.
Ben cracked a smile for what felt like the first time in days. They were practicing for the debate and absent Hux, Mitaka was providing a fine ersatz Congressman Erlandsson.
Mitaka cracked up, a rare but heartwarming sight. "You think? I practiced a little this morning."
"It was really good," Ben confirmed. He didn't doubt for a second that Mitaka had worked on his impression in the mirror while shaving.
"Alright, stay on track." Rey interrupted their self-congratulatory banter. "That's great, Dopheld. Senator, next question."
Her calling him by his title now gave him a perverse thrill and he shifted slightly against the sensation in his groin. Hux had gone to take a meeting with Mulavey's press team on the integration with theirs, and Rey became their defacto taskmaster. She looked slightly flustered and irritated, her hair gathered into a sloppy bun with a pencil shoved through it. Wisps of hair had snuck out and framed her face as she sat scowling at the list of possible questions, biting the side of her lower lip in concentration.
They had not discussed what happened in his hotel room after the funeral since returning to Washington. They'd thrown themselves into catching up on the campaign and despite their close quarters had not found a moment alone together since.
"Don't overthink this." These were her only words as she'd drawn her stockings back up her legs in the early morning light.
It had served nothing but to shove the issue into the forefront of his mind. What had previously occupied a small corner before somewhere behind the campaign, his congressional work, and the occasional worry about his parents' well-being now seemingly consumed his thinking. He had lain awake the night before, hardly unusual for him, on the verge of calling her before he'd managed to get ahold of himself.
"Gentlemen," she continued to read from her paper. "Please give us your thoughts on the continued conflict in Vietnam. How do you see the United States extricating from the conflict, what is the time frame for that resolution, and how do you envision US foreign policy to prevent future conflicts? Senator Solo, you have two minutes."
Ben hated these questions. Each one felt like a landmine that a hundred generals, scholars and policymakers couldn't diffuse in a hundred years, let alone two minutes on television.
"Thank you," he began. "Our country has a tradition to uphold, one of championing peace, truth, and justice throughout the world. Unfortunately, that tradition sometimes means having to take up arms alongside our brothers and sist-"
"Stop," Finn interrupted him and Rey said simultaneously, "Too hawkish, start over."
Ben huffed. "The part about arms, or…?"
Mitaka spoke first. "I think you could use this as an opportunity to talk about education and your proposed non-military service-abroad platform? Understanding building bridges, that sort of thing."
Finn nodded gamely, as he had been a huge part of developing this idea.
"Dopheld's right," Rey concurred. "And we don't want you to get trapped in having to give a timeframe because there's too many factors out of your control to say that for certain. Stick to the vaguer policy angle."
Ben scribbled a few notes.
"Alright, so blah blah intro statement. How about... 'A key piece of my foreign policy is the opportunity to build bridges with less fortunate countries to foster understanding between nations, preventing future conflict. I'm proposing a two-year voluntary service program for our young men and women to embed themselves in communities abroad, helping to teach them English, improve their local infrastructure, and spread the American spirit.'"
Rey looked especially skeptical at the last part.
"Well?" Ben asked, glancing at the men.
"We might need to workshop this a bit," Finn said gently. "'Spreading American spirit' sounds like we're a disease somehow."
Rey scribbled notes. "I agree with Finn," she said without looking up at Ben. "Your wording definitely opens questions about whether you're a colonialist of some stripe."
"Shit," Mitaka swore softly as he looked at his wristwatch. "Guys, I need to take off. Annette will kill me if I miss my kid's bedtime another night this week."
Ben glanced at the clock and was surprised to see it creeping towards eight in the evening.
"Go home to your family," he replied. "There's still a few days to figure this out."
Finn looked antsy then as well. He followed Mitaka's path out the door with his eyes and Ben noticed he was jiggling his leg under the conference table.
"Go," Rey muttered to him. "You said you'd made plans."
"Are you sure you won't come?" Finn rose and looked at him apologetically. "Sorry, Senator-there's a department thing tonight and-"
"Okay," Ben rose and tapped his sheaf of papers with a finality on the conference table. "Enjoy yourself. Say hi to Phas if you see her."
Rey did not look up even after the door clicked closed behind Finn.
Ben studied her profile. The ceiling fan squeaked as it pushed the air lazily overhead. It was still stuffy in the room despite the mechanical help. The sun was low in the sky outside and the room was suffused with a golden light.
Rey's lips moved as she read the questions to herself, underlining portions of each one and scribbling notes in the margin of her page.
Nearly three minutes passed before he interrupted her.
"Rey, you need to go home. It's okay to take a break."
"No, I'm fine! I can keep going if you want to, or-" She waved her hands indecisively, still looking down at her papers.
"I don't want to," Ben interrupted and advanced on her slowly.
She hummed, oblivious of him moving closer.
"Rey," he repeated her name, startling her into sitting upright by drawing her pencil away by its eraser. She looked up him then, looking for all the world like a deer in a car's headlights.
"Please?" Ben pleaded. "You deserve a break, too."
"But I don't have anywhere to be," she protested. "Or a family to go home to."
Her confession hit him straight in the gut. He wasn't responsible for her happiness, but he couldn't expect her to work these hours and then be alone.
"Do you wanna…" Ben broke off. Was he crazy? "Come over?"
She blinked at him, her brown eyes softening. "To your place?"
"Yeah," he mouthed the word as much as he said it.
"I don't-don't know where you live," she stammered a little.
Ben grabbed one of her pieces of paper and scribbled his address on the back.
"Now you do."
"I'll think about it," Rey nodded, looking at the paper.
Ben had never tidied his place so quickly as when he arrived home that evening. His regular cleaning woman had come while he was away for the funeral and left behind a sweet note on the kitchen counter. He stashed it in the utensil drawer after quickly scanning it, making a mental note to ask Maz to send Marie a thank-you note from him on Monday.
The light was fading in the sky and the living room was quickly becoming dark. He turned in a circle there, trying to decide if he'd done enough.
What would this look like to her? He'd never been concerned what a woman might think of his apartment before, but now every detail of it seemed wrong to him.
His books were boring; the couch, a rental. Few pictures aside from one formal portrait of his folks taken after his election to the Senate. A paint-by-number of a tall ship sailing a stormy sea hung in the living room, a gag gift from Hux when they were in law school.
He realized he had no idea where Rey was living here in Washington. The report on her place in the city merely read, small efficiency unit, which seemed to Ben to be an unnecessary oxymoron.
His own was a step up from an efficiency, though it was decidedly on the low-rent end of what his congressional colleagues managed with their salaries. Why spend the money on a place he spent so little time in, especially when he was single? There were better uses of his money. His lone concession to practicality felt like a handicap now when he considered that she'd been to his parent's house at the beach. As little connection as he felt to the place himself, he could admit it was a very nice house in a very nice neighborhood.
He wondered for a second if his father would keep it with his mother gone.
Ben sank wearily onto the couch with his head cradled on the backrest. He was getting ahead of himself for sure. Why was he worrying whether she'd like his apartment? It wasn't like he was proposing to her. She wasn't moving in.
He wasn't even sure she was coming over for sex.
Ben let out a soft, self-pitying groan as his dick leapt in his trousers at the thought of it, of her: how good she had felt against him, the unexpected resolution of the unspoken tension between them, and the obsessive guilt that had overtaken him since.
How much she enjoyed it.
Above all, that was the biggest surprise. She had been willing.
The doorbell of the intercom startled him and he bolted up and to his door. Ben shook his arms out before reaching for the button on the unit, an ancient thing he suspected had electrical issues that would one day burn the whole place down.
"Hello?"
"It's me," Rey answered.
Ben's stomach jumped with an excitement he preferred not to think about too closely.
"Do you want to come up?" He grimaced at his stupid choice of words as soon as he released the button to hear her answer.
There was a brief pause with a static burst before he heard her chuckle.
"No, I'd rather stand in your entryway all night."
He hit the door button without a second thought.
It took her a few minutes to climb the stairs and by the time she knocked gently on his door, he had oscillated between the couch and standing near the entrance three times. He'd settled on the couch, nervously bouncing his leg.
He sprang to the door but paused a moment to tug his hand through his hair. It wouldn't do to appear over eager.
"Hey." She gave him the smallest smile when he let her in.
"I wasn't sure you'd come," he blurted out.
Her smile broadened at this and he blushed.
He blushed. What was he, fourteen?
"Come-come over," Ben corrected himself. "I wasn't sure you'd come over."
Rey ignored his gaff and knelt backwards on the couch to inspect the painting. Ben shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to ignore the beautiful heart-shape of her ass. She'd changed clothes since the office and was now sporting a pair of mint green pedal pushers that hugged her behind and a white blouse that was undone a button past strict propriety.
Ben had the oddest sensation now that she was the huntress and he, the prey. He cleared his throat and tried to get command of himself.
"Would you like a drink?"
She hummed, peering closer at the painting. "Yes, please. Whoever did this must've used a tiny brush- the lines are very well done."
He removed the stopper from the scotch and poured two glasses before answering.
"Hux did that, as a joke."
She accepted the tumbler over her shoulder and took a sip.
"Armitage is a Renaissance man," she declared.
Finally she turned back and sat primly on the edge of his couch with her legs crossed. She looked very content and he sank into the armchair across from her.
"What?" Ben asked finally. A half-smile had been on her lips since she'd turned around, and he couldn't tell why.
"You invited me over," she said.
"I invited you over," Ben repeated thickly. "I didn't want you to be alone."
"I thought you said we couldn't happen." Her eyes glittered with amusement.
"Are we…?" Ben swallowed. "Happening?"
Rey slid her glass onto the coffee table and laced her fingers over her knee.
"I wouldn't mind if we happened," she murmured. "We could happen on this couch." She dragged her knuckles lazily over the rough wool upholstery.
His heart pounded at her innuendo. Was this actually happening? He half expected to wake up and realize he was still drunk and alone in a hotel room in upstate New York.
Rey held out her hand to him, palm up.
"Well?"
Ben rose unsteadily, not breaking her gaze as it followed him upwards.
He prided himself on being a fast learner, so if this was mistake, he would need to make it again to learn his lesson.
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