A/N: Time for some answers!

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When Rey opened her eyes, she was more than a little shocked to find herself in complete darkness once again. Just how long had she been asleep, she wondered? It hadn't even been noon yet when they had arrived at this cave, and now it was night already? Slowly, carefully, she sat up, testing her head. It was blessedly quiet and pain free.

She heard movement from across the way and wasn't surprised when a voice asked softly, "How are you feeling?"

"Better," she told him. "Much better."

Faint light began to glow from something next to Dominguez. The cookstove, she realized. "Are you hungry?" he asked, and she could see his face now in the soft glow. His eyes looked even more intense than ever.

She took a deep breath, very aware of her empty stomach. "Yes," she breathed. "But I should probably use your 'bathroom' first."

She saw the corners of his lips turn upward. "You remember where it is?"

She nodded and stood, doing so carefully. After such an acute migraine, where every movement caused agony, she was always cautious, fearing a return of the pain. She was almost past Dominguez when she stopped and looked down at him. "Do I really have to walk on that ledge in the dark?"

He looked up at her, then turned to reach into his pack. He pulled out the night vision goggles and flipped them on, handing them up to her. "I doubt there is anyone close, but I'd rather not have you flashing a light around out there just in case." He nodded at the cookstove. "This light is faint enough it can't be seen from down below, but that's about as bright as I dare get."

She nodded and put the headset on. The harness was loose on her, so she had to hold up the goggles themselves to keep them in front of her eyes, but they worked. She made her way out of the cave and down the trail to the niche in the rock they had passed on the way up. In the far back was a man-made hole, and she used it as it was intended, wondering as she did so who else knew of this cave. She had a feeling Dominguez wasn't the only one who hid out here.

Afterward, she made her way back up the trail, doing her best to not look down the cliff-side. While she did well with heights, vertigo was often an issue after a migraine. She entered the cavern and removed the goggles, recognizing the wonderful aroma of cooking meat and vegetables as she did so. She handed the goggles back to Dominguez. "That smells wonderful," she said softly, still unsure exactly how friendly she should be to this man. He had undoubtably saved her life, but she still didn't know why.

"It's just canned stew," he told her. "But when you haven't had a decent meal in a while, it smells like heaven." He grinned at her.

Rey's breath caught. What the hell? Who was this man? And why, oh why, did he have this effect on her?

She started to move toward her pallet, but he stopped her with a word. "Wait!" She stopped and watched as he took the pan on the top of the cookstove off and poured half of the contents into a wooden bowl. He added a plain silver spoon and handed it up to her.

She took it carefully. "Thank you." She moved to the pallet and kneeled down on it, watching as he took a second spoon and began to eat directly out of the pan. She too began eating, slowly at first, but it didn't take long for her hunger to take over and before she knew it, she was scraping the bottom of the bowl.

She looked up at Dominguez to find that he was also done with his stew and was drinking from his canteen. She stared at his throat, suddenly fascinated with his Adam's apple, watching as it moved while he swallowed. When the flask came down, she dropped her eyes, grateful the dark would hide the blush she knew had appeared on her heated face.

She took a deep breath. Okay, they had slept (at least she had), they had eaten, they were in a safe place. Now it was time for some answers. She opened her mouth to ask the first of many questions when he spoke.

"So, what's with the accent?"

She stared at him, startled.

"Sister Clara said your group was from Wyoming," he continued. "I've been to Wyoming. You don't sound like you're from Wyoming." His voice was dry.

Rey huffed a laugh. "I grew up in Oxfordshire," she told him. "My mother was from England. She and my father met at Oxford. He was a physics professor, she taught literature, I was born a few years later." She paused. "My mum passed when I was twelve, and my dad packed us up and brought us back to where he grew up, Alderaan, Wyoming."

"Twelve?" he asked. "And you still have the accent?"

She shrugged. "What can I say?" she quipped. "I don't give anything away easily."

He snorted a laugh. "I believe it." He paused. "And your dad? Does he still teach?"

She looked down at the empty bowl still in her hands. "He died six months ago. Car accident." She paused. "He's part of the reason I came on this trip," she told him. "He always wanted to do one of these mission trips, and never got to. When Finn asked if I wanted to go…" She glanced up at Dominguez.

His face was somber and he was looking down at his own empty dish. He stood suddenly, walking over to her. "I'll take that," he said as he reached for her bowl. She handed it up to him, looking at him, but he wouldn't make eye contact with her.

"What about you?" she said as he turned away to put the bowls down next to the cookstove.

He looked at her then, one eyebrow raised. "What about me?"

"Tell me about your accent," she said. "Iowa? Wisconsin? Illinois?"

He dropped down onto his pallet, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. He pursed those lips and looked off to the side, as if he was considering her question. Finally, he looked her in the eye. "Bannockburn." He paused as she tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. "Illinois," he added with a smirk. "A suburb of Chicago."

Rey nodded, then took a chance with her next question. "And how long have you been El Halcón?"

He stared at her, long and hard. He finally drew back a bit, and with a wince said, "Too long."

There was silence for a long moment, then Rey asked softly. "So, who are you? Really?" She paused. "Local police? CIA? DEA?" Still no response, but he continued to stare at her, unflinching.

She shifted a bit, then pushed on. "I don't think you're local, despite how comfortable you are in this jungle. And a CIA operative wouldn't care about me; I'd be an 'unfortunate casualty'." She tilted her head. "DEA?"

His stare was becoming a bit disconcerting.

She was about to look away when he spoke.

"Back in 1982, a woman by the name of Gina Coronel came down to Ajan Kloss on a two-week long vacation with some friends," he began. "While she was here, she met and fell in love with a man named Luis Dominguez. She didn't know who he was or what he did. Not until after she got pregnant." He paused. "She ran home to Chicago and managed to settle in to a good life with her son. They never had financial trouble, as his father supported them without question, but Luis left them alone for the most part. Until he started getting older. Until he realized he needed an heir."

Dominguez shifted, scooting back so he could lean against the wall behind him. "A few years back, Luis started trying to lure the son he had never met back 'home,' but José was quite content in Chicago. He had a good job managing a repair shop, he had good friends who regularly got high with him, he had a girlfriend, until she dumped him for a guy with more money. He had a sweet job dealing on the side, but it wasn't quite enough. When his girl left him on his thirty-fifth birthday, he began to seriously consider visiting his father for the first time.

"Unbeknownst to him, the FBI had been following him for some time, knowing who his father was, while the DEA kept an eye on the senior Dominguez. One night, a deal went wrong, and the agents tailing him were the only ones to see poor José get knifed. They were there immediately giving him first aid, but he was gone by the time the paramedics arrived." He glanced at her. "Nobody but the guy who did it and the agents were witnesses, so it was fairly simple to keep it quiet.

"The next day, a seasoned undercover DEA agent, one who was more than ready to retire, was recalled from his current assignment in Florida. Latino, close to the same age, a native of the Chicago area… it didn't take long for him to become José Dominguez." He leaned his head back against the rock behind him. "Within a week, he had accepted his 'father's' invitation to come to Ajan Kloss."

Rey took a deep breath. "How long have you been here?" she asked quietly.

"Two years, three months, and thirteen days," he told her without hesitation.

Rey felt shock flow through her and she shifted uncomfortably on her pallet.

He met her eyes with his own and gave her a soft smile. "Two days longer than I should have been."

"What do you mean?"

"The group of men I was with," he continued. "They were heading to Ajara for a meeting with a group from the Ricardo Cartel. What they didn't know and I did is that a Navy SEAL team is also in Ajara, 'training'; there's a U.S. Base on the coast just ten klicks away. I had plans to pick a fight between the two cartels. I would get caught in the crossfire, the SEALs would pull me out and sadly inform my 'father' that José Dominguez was dead. Not only would that hopefully start the war that I've been carefully planting seeds for between the two cartels, but…" he paused.

"You would be able to go home without having to forever look over your shoulder," Rey finished for him. She shook her head. "Instead, you got stuck babysitting a bunch of kids and later, me." She tilted her head at him. "Why did the police not come after us the other day?"

"One of the Federales in the village had a vendetta against Teedo; Teedo raped his thirteen-year-old sister." He grimaced. "My guess is once they found Teedo's body, they didn't bother pursuing us."

The small amount of sympathy she had for the dead man disappeared.

Rey was quiet for a while, then she asked, "How long are the SEALs going to be in Ajara?"

He gave a soft laugh. "I'm pretty sure they'll be there until they get you safely out of the country, Sister. I have a feeling you are their priority right now."

Rey blew out a breath as she realized the truth of his words. "So, we're going to Ajara?"

He nodded. "And it's not going to be an easy hike, Sister," he told her. "Especially with two cartels on our tail."

"Two?"

"I can guarantee you that the Ricardo's are frothing at the mouth at the idea of killing me and 'rescuing' you. They'll be racing the Dominguez' to find us."

"Great," Rey mumbled.

"I'll keep you safe, Sister," he told her with a wry twist to his mouth. "And more than half of that SEAL team are friends of mine; they won't leave until they get us out."

Rey adjusted her seat, feeling exhaustion creep upon her again. But there was one more thing she needed to know. "What's your name?"

"Poe," he told her softly. "Poe Dameron."

"I'm Rey Skywalker," she returned with a gentle smile. "On that note, Poe Dameron, since we're revealing our deepest, darkest secrets, there's something you should know."

He looked at her warily.

"I'm not a nun," she told him with a shake of her head. "Sister Clara just told you all that in hopes it would keep me safe." She snorted softly. "I guess it kind of worked."

His eyes had widened as she spoke, and he opened his mouth as if to say something, but stayed silent. Finally, "Don't take this the wrong way, but I have never been so happy to hear anything in my life!"

Rey felt her own eyes widen. "What? You have a problem with nuns?"

He laughed. "No! I grew up Catholic. I've known many fine women religious in my life." He took a deep breath. "It's just that the things I've been thinking… about you… well, I was pretty sure I was going to Hell having those thoughts about a nun."

Rey covered her mouth with her hand, embarrassed, but ever so slightly charmed by his admission, too.

He raised a hand toward her. "Please, I don't mean anything horrid by that!" he exclaimed, misinterpreting her reaction. "I promise you're safe with me, I just…" he sighed and looked away. "I'll just shut up, now."

Rey finally let out the laugh she had been holding in. "I'm not worried," she told him. "You've been nothing but considerate to me, and I have a sense that your actions are not dictated by my profession."

"What is your profession?" he asked suddenly.

"I teach biology at the community college in Alderaan," she told him with a smile. "I also work as a wildlife rehabilitator on the side." She looked down at her hands in her lap, then she looked back up at him. "I've rehabbed many a falcon."

His chin rose, and she could see the smile playing at his lips in the dim light from the cookstove. "I'll keep that in mind."

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