Notes: Thank you to those of you who commented/ bookmarked/gave kudos on the first chapter! I wasn't expecting any response at all, so it was such a pleasant surprise.

We're still only getting started here, and I'm not sure what the final chapter count will end up being, but I am taking my time with these characters. Bear with me!

Content warning: there are allusions to alcoholism in this chapter.

The Cloudflower was an elegant rooftop bar suspended atop the high-rise apartment building which Poe called home. It was spherical in shape, with an outdoor seating area that slowly revolved around the central bar space, offering patrons an ever-changing view of the Coruscant skyline. Inside, the vaulted ceiling was decked with strings of glowing lights that cast a warm, welcoming hue over the circular bar, staffed exclusively by Romins.

Though he had changed out of his trench coat and into more formal clothing, Finn felt out of place as he waited to be seated. Poe's servant droid had escorted Finn to a spacious room with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the glittering cityscape, an adjoining fresher fashioned from Wayland marble, and the biggest bed that Finn had ever seen, covered with more pillows than one man could ever need. He was gobsmacked to discover that his luxurious room was just one of many in Poe's apartment.

Now that the thrill of seeing his old friend had worn off, it was clear that Poe's new life was a far cry from the sweat and grime of the jungle on Ajan Kloss, and Finn didn't know how to feel about that. The hotshot pilot who was permanently singed by blaster fire and smeared with engine grease was the only version of Poe Dameron he had ever known, but Finn could not find that man amongst the extravagance of this new world. Yes, he supposed two years had passed, but could Poe really have changed so much? Would Poe think the same of him? What else had changed that he hadn't noticed?

Suddenly, as he hovered by the turbolifts, those two years stretched before him and a gnawing dread settled in the pit of his stomach. His fists clenched and unclenched nervously as the host approached.

'Name, sir?'

'Uh, it's Finn. I don't have a booking, but I–'

'Finn!' The Romin's golden eyes lit up. 'Right this way, sir. Secretary Dameron is waiting for you.'

That surprised him. He had assumed he'd be the first to arrive. Nevertheless, he obediently followed the host to a table tucked against the edge of the revolving terrace, conspicuously isolated from the other clientele. Poe was slouched in his chair, the arms of his government uniform rolled up to his elbows as he contemplated the view with slightly glazed eyes. On the table sat two empty tumblers, the ice cubes still intact in both.

He looked up with a grin as Finn arrived, but didn't make any movement to stand up. 'Finn, buddy, you made it! Sit down, sit down.'

Finn slowly lowered himself into the seat opposite Poe, watching with confusion as the older man motioned to the empty glasses and requested two more from their host. The Romin bowed their head, and whisked the tumblers off the table and out of view. Finn turned his attention to his companion, who was beaming at him now.

'Did you have another appointment?' he inquired, still thinking about the empty glasses.

'What?' Poe frowned, then shook his head with a lighthearted laugh. 'No! Nothing booked tonight, I'm all yours.'

Finn quickly put two and two together, and his heart sank. 'Right.'

There was a long pause as they stared at one another across the table. Now that he knew, it was obvious that Poe had been drinking. His eyes were shining, his smile was easy, and the heaviness that he had been carrying when they met earlier appeared to have lifted.

The former general was still looking at him expectantly, but all of a sudden, Finn was at a loss for words. Everything he had planned to ask suddenly seemed secondary to the matter at hand. Finally, Poe threw his arms out.

'Is that it?' He was smiling, but his brow was furrowed. 'We haven't seen each other in two years, and you've got nothing to say?'

Finn remained silent, caught entirely off guard by the situation. Poe huffed, and leaned forward on his elbows. 'You know, when you told me you were going with Lando and Jannah, I thought you'd be gone for a couple of months at the most, and I get it. I do. You had things you needed to do, but when six months had passed and there was still no sign of you…'

He trailed off, then pressed his lips together as though he had thought better of whatever he was going to say. 'Everything started moving at once, and before I know it, I'm a Secretary of State attempting to fix the galaxy between 09:00 and 18:00 hours, and trying not to think about it the rest of the time. All the while, I'm receiving what are essentially vacation holos from you which, by the way, had to be diverted from Ajan Kloss every time – did you really think we'd still be stationed on Ajan Kloss? Anyway, two years later, I finally receive word that Finn is coming home, but apparently you're flying now, and then you turn up looking like this, and everything about you seems different.'

His expression softened and he leaned back slightly. 'But then you open your mouth and it's like nothing has changed. It doesn't seem to matter how much time has passed, there's only ever one thing you want to know.'

Where's Rey? The unspoken words hung in the air between them, and Finn prickled at what Poe was implying. Anger flared in his chest and his cheeks started to burn, but he bit his tongue to avoid escalating the situation. No, that wouldn't help anything. Instead, he swallowed, gathering his thoughts as their host returned with two glasses of Tevraki whiskey on the rocks. Finn took a moment to let the emotions wash over him like a wave – anger, guilt, frustration, resentment - and then, he let them go. He took a sip of whiskey for courage – noticing that Poe had already taken a swig of his – then set the tumbler down resolutely.

'Poe, I'll be honest with you. I underestimated what you would be dealing with when I left. I can see that now, and I'm sorry.'

He paused meaningfully, meeting Poe's eyes so that he might see the truth in what Finn was saying. 'But this wasn't a vacation. I didn't go with Lando and Jannah for the hell of it. You have to understand – I was raised on a Star Destroyer. I don't remember anything before those metal walls. Hell, I didn't even have a name until you gave me one. Sure, I got out, but I didn't even have a chance to start living before I was thrown right back in on the other side.'

He leaned in, imploring Poe to understand. 'Before I left, all I had ever known was war. I didn't know what it was like just to live in this galaxy – to eat for pleasure rather than sustenance, to swim in the ocean just because I could, to fly amongst the stars without worrying about a fighter on my tail…'

Finn looked down at his hands, balled into fists in his lap, and his voice was thick with emotion when he spoke again. 'I left to find out who I was.'

Now, it was the other man's turn to be silent. Finn watched his words wash over Poe, the weariness from earlier closing in on him once more. He ran a hand through his silver streaked hair, and sighed.

'Goddammit.' Poe stared disdainfully at the half empty tumbler on the table. 'I'm the one who should be saying sorry. I shouldn't have been drinking, but the truth is I don't know what else to do with myself these days. When you asked about Rey, I panicked, and I thought a drink would make this easier. Of course, all it did was make things worse, as usual.'

He glowered into his whiskey, and Finn felt a rush of concern for his friend. Any feelings of animosity between the two men evaporated as quickly as they had arrived. 'Do you come here every night, Poe?'

'Not every night.' He let out a long exhale. 'Too often though. Leia made this look as easy as breathing, but I feel like I'm completely out of my depth.'

He picked up the whiskey and swirled the ice cubes round and round the glass as he continued, 'When the New Republic was destroyed, I was just a pilot. A great pilot, but still just a pilot. I didn't know anything about treaties or diplomacy or half of the stuff I'm dealing with these days. I just knew how to follow orders, and I couldn't even manage that half the time.' He winced. 'Remember when I wiped out our entire bombing fleet?'

Finn grimaced. 'Not sure I want to.'

'After Hosnian Prime, I know Leia started preparing me for this. Sometimes, I feel like she knew what was going to happen – that she had it all planned out or something.' He shook his head and raised the tumbler to his lips. 'I don't think she ever even discussed it with me – though it's not like she had many options at the time.'

Finn mulled over Poe's words, taking in the exhausted form of the man. 'You're not happy. You don't want to do this?'

Poe groaned, turning his head to look out over the city lights. 'It's not as simple as that. I care about this work. I care so much, but no matter what we do, it feels like nothing ever changes. For every tiny step towards progress, we're taking two steps back. Every vote towards a fair galaxy is answered by a vote against it. I'm starting to wonder if what they say about Coruscant is true…'

'Don't say that,' Finn said sharply, leaning across the table. 'What you're trying to do here isn't impossible.'

'Isn't it?' Poe countered. 'Has any government in the history of the galaxy ever actually achieved what we're trying to do?'

Finn thought for a second. 'The Galactic Republic? There was peace for almost a millennium.'

'They had the Jedi Order,' Poe said pointedly. 'And besides, even the Galactic Republic fell in the end. Ultimately, you can't contend with greed, and I'm not just talking about the Hutts and the Palpatines of the galaxy.'

He gestured at the patrons sipping cocktails in their finery, then lowered his voice conspiratorially. 'I mean, look at how these people live! You saw the apartment they gave me – that place could home three families! Politicians get a nice cushy life, sitting pretty in Coruscant and acting like we're helping people, but who are we really helping? Slavery has been outlawed for years, but it's still happening right now, right under our noses.'

He was visibly angry now. 'Half of these people have more money than anybody could ever need, but if there's an opportunity to get something for free? They'll take it every time.'

He downed the rest of his whiskey and set the tumbler down with a little too much force. Finn, thoroughly disheartened by Poe's tirade, did the same. Listening to Poe, he was reminded of a young woman with burning eyes and hair that just wouldn't stay flat.

'You sound like Rose,' he smiled. 'Where's she at these days?'

Poe laughed. 'Rose is a thorn in my side. She's part of an activist organisation campaigning for citizens who were displaced by the war. They protest outside the Houses of the Alliance every other week and make our lives hell.' He glanced around the terrace. 'I'm not officially allowed to support them, but between you and me?' He grinned. 'I'm glad. People like her are the only ones holding the Alliance accountable.'

Finn couldn't say he was surprised. Rose had a brilliant mind, but now the war was over, her passion for social justice would have been wasted in the Engineering Corps. He was glad she was putting it to good use.

He hesitated, debating whether he should say it. They'd been working up to this moment all evening. 'And Rey?'

Poe grimaced. He summoned their host with a wave of his hand and ordered another round. Finn's heart was in his throat. 'What is it? What's wrong? Is she okay?'

'Rey…' Poe sighed. 'Ever since the war ended, something's been different. I don't know what happened – you were always closer to her than I was – but it's like she can't find the energy to care about a damn thing anymore. We used to argue about the littlest things, and it drove me crazy at the time, but now? I don't know – if she told me to go eat bantha crap, I'd probably laugh. At least, she'd be feeling something, you know?'

Finn was dismayed. It was worse than he thought. All at once, the words came tumbling out. 'You were right. I should have come back sooner. I knew something was wrong when I left, and when she stopped replying to my holos, I wanted to go, but Jannah told me…' He paused to breathe. 'She said "You can't put your life on hold for somebody else, Finn. Sometimes, you have to be selfish." And I was! I was selfish.'

Poe's eyes widened. 'No, no, no, no, Finn, you–' He stopped mid-sentence. 'Goddammit.' He paused to take a gulp out of one of the freshly filled glasses on the table.

'Listen, what I said earlier… I wasn't thinking, I let my emotions get ahead of me.' He reached across the table to touch Finn's arm. 'I shouldn't have said any of that. Your friendship with Rey was something else, I know that.' He paused. 'But Jannah was right. I'm glad you did something for you. At least one of us did.'

He sighed and slumped back in his chair. 'Whatever is going on with Rey, we'll get to the bottom of it. She won't even entertain the idea of a new Jedi Order right now, and I'm not going to pretend I know anything about that, so I've got her doing odd jobs for the Engineering Corps. I thought it might help if she had something to do.'

He shrugged self-consciously. 'I'll take you down there in the morning, and you can speak to her yourself. For now, let's raise a drink to you, buddy.' Poe tipped his glass in Finn's direction. 'To the new Finn.'

Finn winced – Poe didn't know the half of it – but reluctantly raised his glass to meet Poe's. They both took a long drink of the golden liquid, and Finn welcomed the distracting burn as it seared its way down his throat. They settled into an uneasy silence until, finally, Poe piped up.

'Hey, I heard it turned out that Lando is Jannah's dad. Is that true?'

Finn's heart sank. 'Yeah. Yeah, it's true,' he rasped.

Poe looked at him apprehensively. 'So… did you find your family, too?'

Finn stared into the bottom of his glass.

'No. No, I didn't.'

Notes: Next time, we're catching up with Rey! I don't want to make any promises in terms of update schedule, but I'm aiming to post roughly once a week.