Thanksgiving, for Rey, has been many things over the years. The three she spent with Ginny, when viewed through a haze of nostalgia-and when compared to the ones that came after-were the best, even when it was the two of them eating turkey and dressing TV dinners.

Sometimes Thanksgiving was a car trip to visit relatives of her foster parents, people she'd never met. Often, those relatives treated her like an outsider, or as nothing more than extra help in the kitchen. Once, she was left at home with a frozen pizza while her foster family went to Arizona.

The last two years, she attended Ahsoka's free anti-Thanksgiving dinner at the Sacred Song.

In her daydreams, Thanksgiving was exactly how it looks in Family Circle magazine, or maybe in heartwarming movies, where even if everything goes wrong, everyone is together and that's all that matters.

From the looks of Kylo, hunched in the passenger's seat like he's on his way to his own execution, her hopes of a perfect Thanksgiving are going to remain firmly in fantasy land.

Kylo told her once that he sometimes has trouble eating enough when he's on tour, and it shows. He's lost weight, and his tan can't hide the dark circles under his eyes.

He's also been bouncing his knee and compulsively tugging on his seatbelt, then letting it retract, since they left the airport, and has been speaking in one-word responses.

"I didn't expect it to be this cold," she says, flailing for something to talk about.

"That's LA."

Two words. That's an improvement.

"So, the sweater you brought back, it's perfect. Because I was a dummy and wore a t-shirt."

"You're not a dummy."

"And it's beautiful. The sweater."

"I know."

"Okay," she says, and pulls over. The house they're in front of is dark, and in between street lights. A giant oak tree throws further shadow over it, and the houses on either side are dark, too. There are lights on at the house across the street, but only three cars in the driveway.

"Leia's house is like, another mile."

"I know," she says, and leans over to unbuckle his seatbelt.

"What are you doing?" he asks as she lifts up his shirt and unzips his pants.

"I'm going to suck your dick, idiot," she says. He makes a sound that's somewhere between a grunt and a moan as she takes his dick out. She has him hard within seconds.

"Rey, this isn't a good idea."

"It's the best idea," she says, leaning down and flicking her tongue on the underside of the tip.

"Fuck, it is" he says leaning his head back.

As she takes him into her mouth, gently swirling her tongue around the head as she sucks, she admits to herself that this isn't merely about getting him to relax. She's wanted to jump on him ever since she saw him at the airport, and hadn't given a fuck about the paps, kissing him openly in the middle of baggage claim. His flight was late, so they had to go straight to Leia's, and while the idea of lingering looks over the turkey and playing footsie under the table is appealing, she wants him now.

She wraps her hand around the bottom of his dick, stroking as she sucks. She stops when puts his hand on the top of her head, but he only strokes her hair, moving it over one shoulder and gently rubbing her back with his other hand.

It's unbelievable how much she enjoys doing this with him. And it's not just the way he reacts, the soft way he sighs her name and runs his fingers along her ear and jaw. She likes the feel of him in her mouth, and he way his lips slide over his skin, and the sensation of sucking on something.

She takes her mouth off him and looks up. His head is still thrown back, and his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard. She licks him from the base all the way up to the head, watching him as she does.

"Christ, Rey," he says, looking down at her.

"Do you want to fuck me?"

"Yes."

She sits back to take off her underwear as he reaches down to move his seat the rest of the way back, then she climbs into his lap. There's plenty of room between Kylo and the dashboard, but her left calf is pressed up hard against the door. It's not comfortable, but this shouldn't take long, for either of them. Reaching down, she gets him in position and sinks down all at once.

"Fuck," she sighs.

Kylo runs his hands up her arms, then cups her face. "Are we really doing this?"

"Yes," she says, leaning in to kiss him as she starts to move. The car has cooled down enough that their breath comes out in clouds, mingling together and fogging up the windows. She takes her sweater off and tosses it into the driver's seat. His hands are on her immediately, cupping her breasts, squeezing her nipples, and leaning in to lick and suck them. The cool air stings her wet skin when he pulls away, but his hands are on her again, so warm, and other than the callused fingertips, softer than her own.

"I've never had sex in a car," he says.

"I've never liked it in a car before."

She holds onto the handle above the door as she bounces, and grabs her by the back of her neck, pulling her in and kissing her. These kisses are frantic, artless, but it doesn't matter.

"I've wanted you," he gasps. "Every day. All the time."

"Yes," she says. "Every minute."

Her orgasm hits sooner than she expects, moments after the first signs that she's close, and he follows soon after, one hand locked in her hair and the other still on her breast. They continue to rock together for a few more seconds as their breathing slows. When they come to a stop, she rests her head on his shoulder and he folds his arms around her.

"Now I just want to sleep," she says.

His laugh rumbles in his chest and throat, and he kisses her on the temple. "It's not too late to skip it."

"It's definitely too late. We're already late," she murmurs. "I shouldn't have roped you into this. We could have met up afterwards and gone out for pie. I just didn't want you to be alone."

"I'll survive."

She kisses him, loving how soft and pliant he is after he comes.

She doesn't love how sticky she is, or how cold it is now that her sweat is drying. She grabs her sweater and puts it back on before easing off him and back into the driver's seat.

"Ew. We should have used a condom." Putting her panties back on isn't the best idea, but neither is leaving them off.

Kylo opens the glove box and pulls out a stack of napkins, handing them over with a sheepish expression. "Sorry," he says.

"Oh, the glamorous life of a rock star," she sighs.

They pull into Leia's driveway twenty minutes late. The house is huge, but not as big as Rey imagined, and a lot more like a normal family home than expected. There's even a white picket fence and ivy growing on the chimney. In addition to Han's Thunderbird and Leia's Mercedes, there's a VW bus and a 1960 Porsche Spyder parked in the driveway.

"Fabulous," Kylo says.

"What?"

"The Porsche belongs to Amilyn."

"Amilyn Holdo?!"

"You've heard of her?"

"Of course, I have! Skyfarer changed my life."

"This is going to be interesting."

"Fill me in. What's it going to be like in there?"

"Well, it's almost 7:30, so Leia will be pouring her second glass of wine. Han will be in the kitchen muttering over the turkey, while Auntie Ammi sits at the table reading his cards and teasing him with stories about when she and Leia used to date."

"Are you kidding?"

"No. They've known each other way longer than Leia's known Han."

"So, he's just cool with having her ex around?"

"She was the witness at their wedding."

"Do you have any idea how bizarre your life is?"

"Sometimes, but the same could be said about you."

"Really?"

"Write it all down sometime and read it like you're a stranger."

When he puts it like that, her life story probably is on the weird side, at least for the past six months. Maybe before, too, when compared to the average American kid.

"Come on," she says. "I'm starving."

He groans but gets out and leads her to a side door. It enters onto a screened in porch, crowded with wicker furniture, floor pillows, and Oriental rugs. Another door leads into the kitchen, where Han is indeed examining an enormous turkey, and Amilyn Holdo sits at the table, tarot cards spread in front of her. Kylo looks back at Rey with a cocked eyebrow before opening the door.

"After you."

Rey ducks under his arm and into the room. Kylo follows, his hand on her back.

Kylo and Han stare at each other, but before it can get awkward, Amilyn stands up and comes over to them, pulling Kylo into a hug.

"I swear, you're taller than the last time I saw you. How long has it been?"

"It's been a couple of years," he says. "Ammi, this is my girlfriend, Rey."

Amilyn turns her cool blue gaze on Rey and she is instantly enchanted. Rey wasn't kidding when she told Kylo that Amilyn's album changed her life. It not only came out at a time when she desperately needed its messages of empowerment and hope, but the laidback folk-rock style had influenced Rey's music.

While she always had an ethereal air about her in photos and on film, up close, Amilyn is terrifyingly intense. But after Ahsoka, she's the epitome of what Rey wants to be when she grows up. No one should be able to make purple hair look regal, but somehow, she achieves it, in spite of—or perhaps because of—the perfectly matched sheath dress and silver barrettes. She takes Rey by the forearms and looks into her eyes.

"His habits are going to rub off on you if you're not careful. I swear, no one in this family knows anything about punctuality."

"Oh," Rey says. "The traffic. It was awful. The airport, you know."

Amilyn smiles and hugs Rey. When she steps back, her brow is furrowed, and she steps in close again, this time taking a long sniff. She laughs and shakes her head. "Traffic. Of course. The best excuse this town has to offer. Shall we?"

She sweeps out of the room, and Rey follows, throwing a half-hearted wave at Han and a confused look at Kylo.

"She knows," he whispers. "Can't get anything past her."

Rey catches a glimpse in a mirror in the hallway and freezes. "Oh my god," she says. Her lips are swollen, her cheeks are flushed far more than can be blamed on the weather, and finger combing her hair had not done the trick.

"Where's the bathroom?"

"You look fine."

"I look like I've been fucking."

"Look, Leia's going to know, either by looking at you, or Ammi telling her. We need to get this part over with."

"You mean you do. I want to look presentable in front of my boss."

"You're right. Come on." He leads her upstairs. "Hey Aunt Ammi, slight detour. We'll be there in a sec."

Amilyn pokes her head around the corner. "If you're not back down in ten minutes I'm coming up there!"

At the top of the stairs, he stops in front of a door with one of those souvenir street signs hung on it, the kind with your first name. She touches the name, and the glow in the dark stars stuck onto it. The closest Rey had ever come to finding her name were for boys named "Ray." It's not like anyone would have thought to buy one for her, but it would have been nice to know it was an option.

Kylo nods, and she opens the door. It's not the room of a little kid, but it's a time capsule all the same. With two dormer windows, a king size bed, and a massive entertainment center, there's still plenty of room to walk around. He hasn't occupied this room in almost ten years, but the sharp, animal scent of teenage boy still lingers, somehow.

The wall above the bed is plastered with show fliers, everything from Pat Benatar to N.W.A., and another wall is dedicated to photos of him with his parents and various artists, starting when he was a toddler. The largest one, in the center, shows him strapped to his mother's back as she holds a sign that reads, "Fighting for Peace is like Fucking for Virginity." She looks impossibly young, her long hair in braids, her mouth open, mid-yell. Baby Ben is obliviously munching on a daisy.

Underneath all the boyish clutter, there are the trappings of a tasteful room, in the blue plaid bedding and mahogany furniture. There's a shelving unit like the big one in his New York loft, but it's mostly empty, as are the book shelves. A stack of yearbooks sits on the desk, and she picks up the one from 1991.

Kylo takes it out of her hand before she can open it. "Amilyn wasn't kidding about coming to find us."

"Fine," she says. "But I'm taking that when we leave."

He holds the yearbook over his head. "Oh, really?"

"I'm not that short, you know." But when she jumps to try to get it, he stand on his toes, keeping it out of reach. She hops on the bed, but when she reaches for it, he grabs her around the waist with one arm and lifts her, spinning her back to the floor. She kisses him, and like that, she wants him again, as badly as if he hadn't been inside her half an hour ago. She runs her hands down his chest and back under his shirt, but he grabs her wrists.

"Rey, we have to go back down there."

"I know," she says, but doesn't move.

"Rey," he whispers. "In a few hours, we can finally fuck in my house. In my bed, on the deck, in the shower, in the studio—"

"Control room or live room?"

"Both. We can record it if you want. But we have to go downstairs now."

"Okay, okay." She goes into the tiny bathroom and pulls her hair up into a ponytail, powders her face and fixes her smudged eyes the best she can. There's nothing she can do about her lips except throw on more lip gloss. He's waiting on the landing when she comes out and kisses her forehead before taking her hand to head downstairs. His hand is sweaty and his grip a bit too strong.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

At first, walking into the dining room is, while not exactly like a Rockwell painting, at least like something out of an advertisement. The table is lit with candles and loaded with all sorts of food. Han sits at one end, Amilyn and Chewbacca sit across from each other nearest him, leaving two spots open nearest a turkey the size of a small child. It's so big that Leia is barely visible until she stands up. All conversation dies when she does, and Leia's gaze bores into her son. They stare at each other, and Rey is struck by how much they resemble each other. She always thought he took after Han most, but Leia and her son have the same eyes.

Leia presses her lips together and takes a deep breath, then she sighs, eyes softening.

"We're glad you made it. We were starting to worry it wasn't just the chronic Solo lateness."

"Hey!" Han says. "I think we know where he got that from, Princess." He looks at Rey and Kylo. "She was late for her own wedding, and this one was two weeks late for his own birth."

"Um, the traffic was terrible," Rey says.

Han's mouth twitches. "Amilyn filled us in."

Rey's face goes hot, despite the twinkle in his eye, and thee waves of embarrassment radiating from Kylo are palpable. He helps her into her chair and goes to his, stopping to kiss his mother on the cheek on the way and throwing a glare at his father.

"Ben, I think it's your turn to say Motzi this year," Leia says when they're all seated.

"Blessing over bread," Chewbacca says to Rey while Leia and Kylo negotiate. "The joke is that it's always Ben's turn."

"Is it like saying grace?" Most of Rey's foster parents had been religious at some level, though it was usually only surface level. One of them had the minister over for dinner often and that man could make a prayer over food into a full-blown sermon.

"Same but very short, with eyes open. And no Jesus."

Kylo clears his throat, having clearly lost his argument with Leia, and starts the blessing.

"Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu melech ha-olam, ha-motzi lechem min ha-aretz." It's not quite spoken, but not quite a song, and Kylo's baritone makes it lovely.

Chewbacca translates as Kylo the rolls are passed around. "Blessed are you Lord, our God, King of the universe, who brings forth bread from the earth."

"That's beautiful," Rey says, smiling at her boyfriend.

"He used to love it when he was little," Leia says. "He insisted on saying it alone, even when other children were here."

The rest of the food is passed around, and she tries a little of everything, though one platter stays in place in front of Kylo. She hadn't known what to expect when Kylo told her that he ate something called Tofurky, but it looks like a turkey breast that's been turned into a loaf and stuffed with wild rice. Leia points out the vegan side dishes and he rolls his eyes and reminds her that her menu hasn't changed since the mid-eighties.

"Are we still doing the giving thanks thing?" Han asks, when everyone's plate is full.

"Of course," Leia says. "You can start."

"Same as always. Glad to be alive, glad to have a roof over my head." He winks at Leia. "And always glad the Falcon is still running." Han raises his glass and knocks on the table at the same time. "Chewie?"

Chewbacca shrugs. "I'm happy to not be on tour, and for Ben to be joining us."

Kylo, who's been studying his plate, looks up. "Thank you."

Chewbacca waves his hand. "It's true. Now, Ammi?"

Amilyn leans back in her chair, wine glass in hand. "I got word yesterday that my foundation was approved for an enormous grant, so we'll be able to do music camp in three new cities next summer. Leia?"

Leia looks around the table, her eyes landing on each person. "I'm thankful for my family, both blood, and found, and every artist at Resistance. I know I say the same thing every year, but it's always true, because no matter what fleeting, ephemeral good things happen, the essence of what I'm thankful for will never change. Over the years, this table has been so crowded that you couldn't take a bite without knocking someone's fork out of their hand. Sometimes there have only been two, or three, though the configuration of those two or three was subject to change. But I have never sat alone at this table, and for that, I'm grateful." She raises her glass and takes a sip before sitting down. "Ben?"

Kylo looks at Rey. "I'm thankful that I met someone who likes me in ways I never learned to like myself."

Rey's mouth opens with a small gasp, and though she can feel everyone's eyes turn to her, she looks only at him, at those deep eyes with their beautiful shape. At the little tremble in his lip.

"I'm thankful…I'm just so glad…for everything."

Leia raises her glass. "To everything."