Author's Note: Your encouraging comments and reactions to this story have been amazing and I've been so motivated to keep cranking out chapters for you all. Bonus chapter today, yay! I'm hoping to still have the next one by Sunday. Thank you so much for every comment and especially for those of you spreading the word about this fic. I am honored to be part of this wonderful fandom 😊

I planned this chapter in my head as I left the movie theater on December 18th. I told my husband I wanted to write the Reylo version of the pottery scene from the movie Ghost. Which is so funny because I've had a few comments related to that already, so other people must be feeling those vibes, too. If you want the full Ghost experience, wait until you read Ben's line "Don't let me interrupt what you were doing," put on the song "Unchained Melody," and crank up the volume.


Rey woke early to begin preparations for their trip to Yavin IV. Unfortunately, the Falcon was not in flying shape and needed some work before they'd be ready to travel. Poe also had some things to attend to today, namely organizing a small crew for Maz who needed some back-up on Corellia.

Chewie kept Rey company as they worked on the Falcon's hyperdrive. Poe had done a serious number on the poor ship with his lightspeed skipping, and though they'd made some hasty repairs a few days ago, the ship was in need of some real attention.

The Wookiee rumbled a curse at the fried wiring harness.

"I know, it's a mess," she agreed.

She sighed, wishing to be on with this mission already. If she had something to do, a goal in mind, she could stop thinking about him. She felt foolish for letting him consume her thoughts, but she'd never kissed anyone before, never wanted to, really. Until now. Now she couldn't stop daydreaming about him, his voice in her ear, his hands on her hips as he held her close, his lips, his smell, his taste. Oh kriff, she was staring at the wall again, not sure how much time had passed.

When she looked back up at Chewie, he was studying her. "You think more of Solo Pup than fixing Falcon."

She'd never heard Chewbacca talk of Ben, only seen his anger as it was directed at Kylo Ren. She was amused to hear the name he had for him in Shriiwook. Sometimes translating from the Wookiee language to Galactic Basic was problematic, but this time, it was kind of adorable.

"Maybe," she admitted, shifting uncomfortably and feigning interest in a charred pair of capacitors.

His perceptiveness had always been unsettling. He could read humans very well for someone of a different species. She figured it was because he had so many years of experience. And lying to him was pointless, he would see right through her.

Chewie growled another, even more jarring question. "You love Solo Pup?"

She dropped her hydrospanner.

Chewie cocked his head in an expression of amusement.

"I…" she started speaking with no idea where her words would take her. "I… no… our, what we have, its way more complicated than that. I mean, we were enemies for over a year and this is… it's too new."

She was babbling now and Chewie's shrewd gaze was not helping.

"Humans overthink." He growled deeply to add an edge of impatience and pointed his strap wrench at her in accusation. "You defend Solo Pup. You understand Solo Pup. You desire Solo Pup." He shrugged. "You love Solo Pup."

Wookiees were so forward with things like this and she… well she wasn't. She could argue the point further, but it seemed safer to feign interest in something else. Lowering her head to peer around a loose panel, she reached in to peel away a melted casing.

"Solo Pup was funny. Brave," his growl was muted, almost whimsical. "Curious about every small thing."

Chewie's memories of a young Ben brought a smile to her lips.

Then, an angrier howl reverberated in the small space. "Killing father. Hard to forgive."

Chewie was being honest with her and his conflict about Ben was undertstandable. They'd never really talked about what had happened to Han, but she was sure the wound he'd left behind would never fully heal.

"You're right. It was horrible," she said. "Palpatine had Ben so twisted in the Dark Side he didn't even resemble that brave, curious boy you remember. But you'd be proud, Chewie, of the way he fought for what was right at the end."

A triple barking reply indicated a feeling of hope for the future for which there were no words in Galactic Basic.

"I hope you're right," she said.


They worked through the day, with Rose bringing them lunch and then staying to help with the hyperdrive. But as the sun began to set behind the base, it was clear that they wouldn't be leaving for Yavin IV until at least tomorrow.

Rey was prying a particularly rough looking heat diverter from the scorched remains of its rigging when she felt that familiar tug at her core.

A smile pulled at her lips and she stood scanning the hall, waiting quietly, not wanting to miss his greeting, or the first touch of his hand on hers when he appeared.

A bolt of frozen lightning cinched around that sacred thread connecting her to Ben and she was thrown to her knees. The icy punch of it sucked the air from her lungs as she landed hard against the floor of the Falcon. She gripped her chest with one hand, trying to breathe, trying to slow the dizzying spin of the world around her as she was drawn into a pitch black infinite space, cut through with white, geometric paths spanning out into oblivion.

She reached out through the Force, calling for Ben to help, trying to follow the Bond to whatever was holding her here, struggling to free herself from the claws digging deep into her chest.

A face. A human face that wasn't whole narrowed his eyes at her as he emerged from nothing, his prosthetic jaw limited the extent of his emotional expression to a single feeling – anger. Blue-black tattoos ran vertically along his scalp and his eyes were hard and cold. And he wasn't alone.

Farther down the path, Rey saw glimpses of several shadowy forms, spectral fingers all pulling at the Bond and she could feel the strength of that golden thread fraying now, feel the veins of darkness weaken the tether as these… things ripped into it. Another hooded figure, this one with a skeletal white half-mask with open eye sockets, turned to stare as he ignited a red lightsaber and began his slow approach. And she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt, they were Sith.

Suddenly, her vision tunneled, and she was lying flat on the Falcon's steel floor, chest heaving with panicked breaths, sweat beading on her forehead.

Rose was kneeling over her, pale with worry, shaking her from her stupor. "Rey? What happened?"

She choked out a response, "A vision."

Chewie held a furry arm out to help her up, barking a request to tell them what happened.

"Sith… I thought they died with Palpatine," Rey was shaking her head, rubbing her forehead with trembling fingers, trying to get this to make sense. "But they were there, in my vision."

"Are you sure? Could you have seen something from the past?"

"I don't know."

Rose laid a comforting hand on her shoulder and stayed with her until Rey assured her she was fine. They both went back to finishing the repairs, but there was a tension in her shoulders that wasn't there before. She'd thought once they'd destroyed Palpatine that the Sith would be gone. And as much as she'd love to think that vision was from the past, she wasn't so sure. Not with everything else going on. Rey was glad for something to do, something to repair, as it helped keep her from falling into her own mind too much.

It was getting late when she and Rose started cleaning up and gathering their tools to meet Chewie at the front of the ship.

"Have you seen him today?" Rose asked, trying to be casual as she sealed a control panel and collected a few fallen screws from their work area.

Rey shook her head, trying, and failing to appear optimistic.

"I don't blame him," she said, trying to add some levity to the situation. "After the reception he got last night."

Rey forced a smile for Rose's sake.

"And no more weird visions?" Rose asked.

She shook her head. "Thank goodness. I'm going to go get cleaned up," Rey said, looking down at her greasy hands.

"See you at dinner?"

"I'm not too hungry," she said. "I'll probably just have a quick ration packet in my room and go to bed."

"Alright Rey," she said, unable to keep the worry from her eyes. "Let me know if you need anything."


Rey made a visit to the fresher before heading back to her room. Once there, she realized she still wasn't all that hungry yet. And she wasn't tired. She was feeling… off.

And she couldn't stop thinking about him. About her conversation with Chewie. About how cruel it was that the dark side of the Force could pull on the Bond, that private connection that was supposed to be between her and Ben only. The fact that it had led to visions of the Sith made her feel sick.

She sank down on the bed and lifted Ben's shirt from the pillow. Gripping the fabric in one hand, she focused on that connection, trying to will him to come to her. But it was as though the Bond had never existed. It was completely cut off as it had been on Tatooine.

She pressed her lips tight together and threw the shirt on over her head. It was big enough to be a dress on her, so she wore it that way. She was tempted to crawl in bed and just lie there but remembered her promise to help Ben. She would not stop trying until she had him back.

If he wasn't able to come to her today, then she would do something thoughtful for him. She crossed from the bed to the table in the corner where she'd collected an array of materials for rebuilding Ben's lightsaber, pliers and wire strippers, diatum power cells, energy modulators, and other odds and ends. She was just waiting on Ben to appear to get to work. Only he hadn't come today.

She took a breath, banishing the prickling heat of tears, and strode across the room, sitting down on one the stools she'd arranged around the table. Kylo Ren's weapon lay untouched at the center of the workstation, gleaming under the bright work lights. She could at least get started dismantling it for him. It would give her something to do anyway.

She lifted the saber from the table, revealing a puddle where it had lain. The whole weapon was waterlogged. She'd have to disassemble it and dry out the parts before he'd be able to put it back together. Turning the weapon over in her hands, she stared at the build in disbelief. Why he'd decided to haphazardly add wiring to the outside of the hilt was beyond her. The whole assembly seemed unstable, just as liable to explode in the wielder's hand than cut down an enemy. It was the product of a man so conflicted, he didn't care much about self-preservation, so she guessed symmetry was the least of his worries.

She twisted the hand grip, dismantling the hilt to discover that the inner casing was tarnished with a layer of muck. She shouldn't be surprised since the thing was sitting at the bottom of an ocean for a few days. But she'd need some de-greasing soap and a brush if she had any chance of cleaning up these parts to reuse.

With her mind on a project, she was already feeling more energetic. She ran downstairs, grabbed the degreaser, a brush, and a basin full of water and returned to her room to finish the cleaning.

She squeezed a glob of sticky bluish soap between two hands and used the small brush to de-muck the casing. She wasn't sure if the electronics were all fried from being underwater, but she separated them from the outer shell of the saber and set them aside to dry. She would find out soon enough.

You were supposed to wait for me.

The moment he spoke, it was as if her body had been waiting for him, building up to this moment all day. His voice was soft against her ear and in an instant, her skin was alive with electricity.

"It's," she swallowed against the thickness in her throat, "it's so late, I didn't think you'd be able to make it today."

"The darkness is growing, making it harder to find you," he admitted.

"I know. I had a vision."

Me too.

"We'll find out more tomorrow, we're going to the Great Tree."

Your friends agreed to help?

"They did."

He hummed acknowledgement and she could sense him leaning closer.

Don't let me interrupt what you were doing. His breath was warm, tickling the hairs at the back of her neck.

Wanting to feel more of him than just his breath, she closed her eyes and willed his Force to take shape. She felt him reach out at the other end of the Bond and his outline took on a more solid form behind her.

She tried to turn to face him, but he held her gently by the shoulders, settling her neatly in his embrace with her back to his chest.

He Force-pulled a stool for himself and settled onto it. As she leaned back, nested safely against his body, she was overcome with his size, his complete domination over the physical space around him. She shouldn't feel so safe, so protected, not with everything threatening to steal him from her. But his influence on her body and on the Force was commanding and she felt the stress of the day drain from her aching muscles as she relaxed into him.

He rolled up his sleeves and leaned forward, arms outstretched next to hers, and offered his hands to her, palms up.

She stiffened, "My hands are dirty," she protested.

Mmm hmm. Mine will be, too.

She couldn't see his face, but she didn't need to. His hands, those hands she had dreamed about so many nights after they'd touched on Ahch-To, were open to her again. Large hands with strong lines, a graceful curve to each finger. Those hands he had extended to her again and again, but she'd always had to deny. It hadn't been right to take them before. But now, here…

These were Ben Solo's hands.

She reached for them, soapy and wet and with muck under her nails, and when their skin touched, she could forget all of what had come before.

The current she felt rippling between them, through the Bond, was powerful enough to leave her winded. She heard his breath hitch, too, but he pressed his body closer, wrapping around her shoulders completely.

I want to help you with this.

A gasp caught in her throat as his fingers laced through hers, soap squelching between them, skin sliding together easily.

He dipped his hands into the basin, waiting for her to mirror his motions before knitting his long fingers between hers again, and guiding her to the scouring brush. He cradled her hands and she melted into his gentle touch, closing her eyes and giving in to the sensation of him completely. The cool water, the soapy slickness, his warm grip on her hands. She was floating, heat prickling her skin, breaths coming short and fast, aching with want for more of him. Water dripped down her arms, spilling onto her bare legs, dousing the fire that seemed to burn across every inch of her skin.

He reached for the last section of dirty casing, his inner thighs pressing against her hips as he leaned forward. Warm lips grazed her neck as he dropped the filthy part into the basin. A shiver erupted across her shoulders from the contact as he squeezed more soap into her hand. His thumbs kneaded the thick paste into her palm, building a generous lather, and he was controlling her movements with the brush now, rocking her hands back and forth, again and again, her skin gliding against his as they scoured the casings to a shine.

With the parts clean, he drew his wet fingertips up her arms and back down one more time, leaving trails of heat in their wake. Then he gathered her close, nuzzling his mouth and nose against her neck as he held her, arms crossed, against his chest.

She sighed, a low whimper escaping her throat and his arms tightened around her. She felt an immediate surge of desire through the Bond and his mouth was moving against her skin again.

The light brush of his lips against her collarbone felt more like the caress of a breeze than a man. And Rey realized with a devastating pang of sorrow, that it was neither.

It was the kiss of a ghost.

I would wait in the In Between forever, Rey. Just for this.

The Bond was open wide, thrumming in time to her beating heart, and she marveled at the beauty of it.

He held her close, pressing those small, ghosting kisses against her neck, until she couldn't contain the rising tightness in her chest, need spurring her to seek more of him, and she turned to find his lips.

She willed him to be real, solid and true, with everything she had as she kissed him, drawing from the expanse of Force so strongly it brought tears to her eyes. But when she pulled away finally, with the taste of him thick on her lips, he was still framed in that blue-green aura of the dead.

Don't look at me like that.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I just… want you. Here."

Flushed and open-mouthed, he gave his husky reply, Then have me.

The words twisted at a visceral place inside of herself and she threw herself back into him, this time trying to lose herself completely in his touch, his taste. They molded together, as if sculpted from the beginning to fit this way. His mouth opened to hers and their tongues touched for a heartbeat before that wretched heaving pressure down the Bond announced their time was short.

In a frenzy, she pulled Ben to stand, pressing herself flush against him, feeling the shallow rise and fall of his chest and the thundering of his heart against hers, and feeling him. Oh stars, the hardness of his need against her belly was… she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. Instead, she captured him in another kiss, using her lips to tell him what he was doing to her, a silent request to take her deeper. He obeyed, daring to rove his hands under the fabric of her shirt, up her sides, wrapping around her waist. His fingers kneading circles against her back stoked a fire with each motion, building a coiling heat in her belly, ramping up a need for him that she could no longer ignore.

Then she was pushing him, pushing him back against her bed as she tangled her fingers in his hair and framed his face with her hands, demanding another taste of him. He fell heavy onto the mattress, and she lowered herself next to him, straddling his leg as she continued to feelhim everywhere. She whined as the pressure building between her legs found the slightest bit of friction from his thigh as she lay tangled with him on the bed.

He reached out a hand to cup her cheek, eyes blazing with the same need that raged inside of her.

But his fingers never found purchase, slipping through her as his physical body slowly melted away into the Force and a lonely silence took his place.

Her own shallow panting breaths filled her ears and Rey was left alone and aching in more ways than one.