A/N: Glad you guys enjoyed the beginning! :D Just a heads up, there will be a few deviations from the movie because...well, it's more fun to make it my own. Just so no one yells at me for taking some turns. For the most part we follow along, just with some twists.
The immigration office is packed. Rey doesn't have the patience to deal with this. She's already on edge, though she refuses to think that guilt has anything to do with it whatsoever. It's definitely just due to the anxiety of her visa situation, and having to take time out of her extremely busy day to handle the situation. Everyone here seems annoyed and anxious, just like her. But Rey isn't everyone. She's spent years building herself the thickest skin as a suit of armor so that she can get to where she wants to be.
Thusly prepared, she bullies her way to the front of the line, ignoring the protests of the annoyed folks behind her, and informs the desk employee that they have an appointment. Curses of Karen and entitled bitch break against her back like water over rocks. She's impervious.
The desk agent purses her lips and looks like she'd about to protest, but takes one look at Ben and sighs, sliding over two clipboards of paperwork for them to fill out while they wait. Rey takes them, a familiar feeling of exasperation rising sharply. It's the one that always comes when people defer to Ben's apparent authority instead of her own, simply by the size and commanding presence of him. It annoys her, but she'd be lying if she didn't use it to her advantage sometimes. One of the things that makes him an effective assistant is how people tend to roll over and show him their bellies, figuratively speaking, without much more than a glance in his direction.
Rey hands one of the clipboards to Ben and they find a couple seats. Neither speak as they begin filling out the materials. Things are still tense between them. The paper work is fairly standard, nothing too weird yet. Mostly just full legal names, birthdates, employment, his social security number, her ID number — things that don't make her feel like she's hurtling headlong into the biggest gamble of her life. They lull her, give her confidence. See? This is just business. The language is appropriately cold and aloof.
Nothing to get worked up about. This is a legal transaction. Nothing more.
"Hey." A guy sitting in the chairs across from them leans forward. There's a girl by his side, young and blond and attractive. "You guys here for a fiancée visa?"
Rey frowns.
The guy laughs. "Yeah. I knew it. I've been around the block a few times myself. This is my fourth fiancée. She's from Romania. They always divorce me after they get their green cards, but hey, I'm happy to help."
The girl doesn't seem at all bothered by this information. She flicks them a neutral smile and continues filling out her paperwork.
Ben sizes the man up. Rey can see his assessment doesn't impress him. Still, he tilts his head. "We're a little nervous, as you can probably imagine. Any advice?"
"They're gonna try to poke holes in your story. Don't let them." The guy taps his chin. "Let's see. Figure out pretty quickly your living situation, because they'll check into that. Oh! Hickeys. Hickeys are great at convincing them."
"A hickey," Rey repeats, unimpressed.
He laughs and slides an arm around his Romanian bride, brushing some of her hair to the side. There's a mark there on her neck. "A little physical evidence of a true carnal relationship always persuades them that you're for real and this isn't some legal transaction. Hard to do that when you're faking it, right?"
"Grummgar and Netal," someone calls, and the guy cuts himself off quickly. He gives Ben and Rey a wink before he stands up and follows his fiancée off to take their turn.
Rey turns to Ben immediately. "We should do that."
"Do what?"
"Follow his advice."
He stares at her like she's lost her mind. Maybe she has. "I'm absolutely not going to give you a hickey."
"Why not? It can't hurt, it'll only help."
"Because we're not teenagers," he snaps.
"But if this keeps you from going to jail," she hisses, "why not at least try?"
He still looks completely baffled and more than a little annoyed. "Do you want a hickey? Is that it?"
She scoffs. "No, don't be gross. This is a strategy. One I think we should employ. Do you even know how to give a hickey?"
"Yes. I do."
"Then we should do it. You heard him."
"You want to take advice from mister serial-fraudster there."
"He would know a little more about this process than we do, don't you think?"
His disapproving glower makes her even more determined. It's an awkward idea, sure, but maybe a helpful step in this legal transaction. Anyway, the sooner they grit their teeth and get through it, the sooner it'll be over and they can move on.
"Come on," she says, taking his clipboard and standing up. "She said it would be a while. We've got time."
"Rey," he says, and his voice is low with warning. It's one of the few times he's ever used her name out loud like that, and it does something funny to her. She can't decide what it does, exactly.
"Ben," she fires back. "Bit familiar, aren't you? Do you think just because we're doing this that you don't have to show proper respect to your boss any longer?"
"Respect to my boss?" He scoffs. "You aren't just my boss anymore, right? Isn't that what you told my uncle? So you really want me to go in there and say no, this isn't fraud, yes, we're in love, yes, my fiancée still makes me call her Ms Johnson."
Rey scowls, but can conjure no reply because of course that's absurd.
They glare at each other a moment too long. Finally he rolls his eyes and gets to his feet. A flash of nervousness fleeting buzzes through Rey's veins. She spins on her heels and he follows her, out of the waiting room and down the hallway towards the bathrooms. There are three single-stall gender-neutral options, two of which are occupied. She isn't squeamish. This gross public restroom is good enough for what they need to do. She opens the door and motions for him to go inside.
Ben honestly looks like a man being led to the gallows. His face is dark and grim and resigned. He can be tremendously dramatic sometimes. She already knows this about him. He's gotten better at tempering his emotions in the three years they've been working together, but sometimes it's still so easy to read him.
Rey locks the door behind them and turns to face him. Her heart thuds harder in her chest. Nervous, she realizes. She sets the clipboards down together on top of the trash can and fidgets a little. This is...weird. It's really weird. Ben is her assistant, and now she's asking him to…
His gaze roves around the dingy bathroom, taking it in with that grisly look on his face. "This place is disgusting."
It annoys her again, which helps curb some of the nerves and makes her just irritated enough to be matter-of-fact about what they're doing here.
"It doesn't need to be a five star hotel room. This will talk all of two minutes and then we can get out of here. Are in control? Are you capable of keeping it in your pants?" she asks him sharply, bringing his attention back to her in a snap.
He grimaces. "I've never been in less danger of losing control in my life."
She rolls her eyes again and slides some of her hair behind her shoulder, drawing it to the other side to expose part of her neck.
His eyes are on the place immediately, and she swears his pupils dilate in the harsh glow of the bathroom lights.
It's for your job, she reminds herself as her instincts tell her to run. It's just a professional strategy, she mentally chants as her pride rages against this things to which she's submitting herself. This stupid, juvenile act meant to convince a random stranger of a physical relationship that doesn't exist.
"Are you sure?" Ben asks, and his voice is low, tinged with a growl she doesn't recognize.
She turns her head to give him better access, glaring at the flyers taped to the back of the door. "Just do it already. Stop making it a whole thing."
He draws in close, and Rey realizes he actually is going to do it. Her heart races harder now, and she has to fight with all her might to keep her breath even and calm. Nothing inside her is calm. His hands are on either side of her now, against the wall, caging her in so she can't run. She wants to run. And Ben is big. He's really big. She's known this, of course, but right now, hemmed in by his huge shoulders and vast chest, Rey realizes exactly how big.
He's so strong, some voice inside her says with awe, and she almost flinches because she's been ignoring that side of herself — the side that lets herself acknowledge attraction or arousal— for so long she didn't remember what it was like. She absolutely does not want to think that way right now.
It's probably just the situation they're in, his breath ghosting over her neck as his nose brushes up under her ear and into her hair.
"Think it'll...work?" she asks, because she's too nervous to be quiet. She's definitely unsteady now, with the feel of his mouth right there. If he doesn't think it'll work, they'll abandon the plan, because this is too much. She needs him to back off. Her crystal clear objectives are all cloudy and she can't...she can't think...
"It'll work," he promises, his voice a low rumble just before his lips land on her skin, and stars spark behind her eyes.
Holy smokes.
Her hands latch onto his arms for support because suddenly she can't stand, her legs weak and wobbly from the intense pleasure that rushes through her whole body at the heat of him latching onto an absurdly sensitive spot. He makes a soft sound, sucking lightly as he steps in, moving his body in against her.
She chokes back a whimper, eyes squeezing shut. It feels so sinfully good. So dangerously good. His hot mouth working her skin in a place she didn't even know could feel like this.
Shivers run down the length of her, eliciting her gasps and making her clutch at him. He takes and takes, laving her neck like it's everything he's been looking for his whole life.
Mine, mine, mine, something inside her purrs, and Rey stifles another helpless groan. She doesn't want to hear that part of herself, but she can't silence it.
Ben pulls back suddenly, his lips leaving her neck cold in their wake, his eyes black as night. He shudders and steps away from her, raking a hand through his hair. His tongue swipes once over his lips before he brings the back of his hand up to wipe his mouth dry.
"That...should work…" Rey says dizzily, trying to drag herself back down into reality.
"Good," he says roughly, and then he yanks the door open and stalks out, snatching the clipboards on his way. He seems livid about something. Maybe about what she made him do.
Rey can't exactly think about it for too long. Her thoughts are all disjointed and she has to wait a minute for her breathing to slow down and the world to stop spinning. She stifles the desperate urge to grab a paper towel and wipe off the wet spot on her neck. Instead she finger-combs her hair back in place and reassess her appearance in the mirror to ensure she doesn't look as frazzled as she feels. The spot on her neck is bright red and angry.
Her first hickey.
She really doesn't know how she feels about it.
It was probably a mistake to make him do that.
Maybe all of this is a mistake.
But she grits her teeth and returns to the waiting room anyway. When she sits down next to Ben, he doesn't look at her. She might as well not even exist. But it doesn't matter for long because she's barely there for a couple minutes before they're called back to meet with the INS agent.
And Rey comes crashing back into focus with devastating speed.
They're here to commit fraud. They're here to save her job and keep her from going back to her nightmares. This is business, dammit, and nothing more. Biology is lamentable, it can't be helped, but she doesn't need to get discombobulated by a confusingly pleasurable, if ill-advised lying strategy. She can handle this situation.
The office is tiny. The man in front of them isn't that big either, but even he looks stuffed in here like some kind of afterthought. He's middle aged and very professional in his appearance, a permanent-frown seeming etched into his face.
"Hello," he greets, extending his hand.
Rey isn't sure if he's trying to shake, but Ben's there before she can reach, putting the clipboards into his hands, and oh. Yes. Of course that's what he wants.
"Hi," Ben says.
"I'm Mister Krennic," he introduces, looking over the clipboards without really glancing up. "Mister Solo and Miss Johnson, I presume?"
"Yes," says Rey.
Ben takes a seat in one of the two chairs across from Krennic, but she hovers by the door, itching to go.
"Yes," Ben echoes coolly.
"Won't you have a seat next to your fiancé, Miss Johnson," Krennic says, motioning at the empty chair.
"Right." She complies quickly, slipping into the chair. "Sorry. Little nervous."
"And why would that be?" Krennic's eyes track Ben's movement as he reaches out and drags Rey's chair closer to him. "Not committing fraud, are we?"
"Fraud?" Rey sputters. "No? Why would you think that?"
"It's convenient timing," says Krennic, sitting back in his chair. "Your work visa just got denied, so you're applying for a fiancée visa. It couldn't be for the simple reason that you'd like to keep your job with Degobah Publishing, could it?"
"Oh. No. Well, I mean, I can see how it looks, of course, but you seem like an intelligent man. We wouldn't jeopardize our careers for something like this. I could work easily from our London office. This is less about staying here, and more about staying together." The lie is smoother than she thought it would be, and her confidence lifts. She is competent. She is resourceful. She is a survivor. She can do this.
"Uh-huh," Krennic looks between them, then suddenly leans forward with both elbows on his crowded desk. "So let me explain the process to the two of you, because I have a feeling you're in over your heads. Step one, we'll schedule separate interviews. We'll stick each of you in a room and ask you a battery of questions and then compare your answers to see if you actually know each other as well as you claim. Questions that a real couple would be able to answer, but that fraudsters wouldn't. Step two, I dig deeper. I'll look at your phone records, your gas receipts, I'll talk to your neighbors and coworkers and family members. If at any point, your answers don't line up or the stories about you two conflict, Miss Johnson will be deported and you, Mister Solo, will be convicted of a felony, charged with a two hundred and fifty thousand dollar fine and given a stay in a federal prison of up to five years."
Silence follows his lecture. Profound, deafening silence.
Krennic pins Ben with his stare. "So, Mister Solo, you wanna talk to me?"
Ben frowns. "What would you like me to tell you?"
"You can still walk out of here without getting in trouble. Tell me what's really going on, and you won't get charged with anything."
"You want to know what's really going on?" Ben glances at Rey.
She shifts in her seat and gives him a big fake smile, praying he doesn't use this moment to uphold some righteous morality and give her away. She doesn't know why Krennic is targeting Ben with his fierce stare — maybe he can smell hesitation like some kind of bloodhound. But either way, Rey is definitely nervous.
"The truth is, Mister Krennic," Ben sighs after a minute of staring at her, "is that it does have something to do with her visa."
Rey's stomach drops with horror. She let this son of a bitch traitor scent her just to be betrayed like this? The Judas.
Ben keeps going, though, his gaze drifting up to the ceiling before landing back on the agent. "We've been trying to keep our relationship extremely secret because of work."
"Why?" Krennic asks sharply.
Ben shifts, crossing his legs like he's getting comfortable. "The nature of our work demands extreme professionalism, and her age makes her an easy target for...commentary. So we try very hard not to make it obvious that we're together, because — well, she's my boss."
Krennic's eyebrow lifts in a look of heavy skepticism. "She is your boss?"
Ben nods. "And we were violating about a hundred HR protocols. Plus with my promotion coming up, we knew how it would look. So we've been pretending. Trying to keep it a secret."
The emotional whiplash is bound to make Rey sick, but suddenly she is soaring with relief — too much relief to even care that he said something about a promotion. She tucks some hair behind her ear and chews on her lip, not sure when or how to jump in. Ben seems like he knows what he's doing.
"I can see you're trying to disguise some recent...activity," Krennic observes, glancing at her neck. He still doesn't sound entirely convinced.
Ben winces and glances at Rey. "I told you wearing your hair down wasn't going to be enough. Do you think anyone else at the office has noticed?"
She doesn't even know what to say, so she says nothing, merely shrugging helplessly. She's too surprised to form a coherent sentence.
"And what were you being promoted to?" Krennic makes some kind of note in his file.
"Editor," Ben says confidently.
"From which position?"
"Assistant editor."
"To Miss Johnson."
"Yes."
Krennic shakes his head, frowning. "I don't buy it. You expect me to believe that before this promotion, a man like you was serving as a glorified secretary? To a young woman like her?"
"Assistant," Rey corrects firmly. "And it's all verifiable through our employer."
Ben nods again. "So while we weren't quite ready to reveal our relationship to everyone yet, we panicked when she found out her visa had been denied. I can't let her go to London, Mister Krennic. And I want to marry her anyway. So why not now?"
The agent sighs and rolls his eyes. "So you know that you have to marry within 90's days of being granted the fiancée visa, right?"
"We do, yeah," said Ben. "Actually, we're prepared to do it as soon as we have it."
"Even though it will jeopardize your promotion?" Krennic sniffs around Ben's story like he knows the scaffold is built out of toothpicks and he wants to find the one that will make the whole structure collapse.
Rey has been utterly out at sea for most of this, but she suddenly kicks into gear. "I will disclose everything to HR and our superiors and let them sort out how the promotion will work. Ben shouldn't be denied a position he's more than qualified for just because we couldn't be professional about our relationship."
"Okay, so you'll be informing your employer. What about your parents?" Krennic looks down at his paper as if he's suddenly very tired.
"Oh, my parents are dead," Rey says lightly. "Nothing to worry about there."
"No brothers or sisters?"
"Nope. Just me."
"How convenient for this particular situation. My condolences for your loss. And Mister Solo? Your parents are dead too?"
"No, my parents are very much alive."
"Very much alive," Rey echoes. An idea occurs to her which will surely seal their ruse in nice protective armor. She rolls with it. "Actually we were going to tell them this weekend at his grandmother's 90'th birthday party. The whole family is coming together. Seemed like it would be a nice surprise."
"You are?" Krennic makes another note on their file. "And where is this surprise taking place?"
"At his parents' house."
"Which is where?"
Rey hesitates. She doesn't actually know where he's from, she realizes. Three years working together and she's never asked. Not like she's ever been interested. Where he's from doesn't matter as much as his work ethic. Ben covers for her.
"Theed," he says. "It's a small village on the island of Naboo. Off the coast of Alaska."
"Alaska…" Rey repeats, stumbling over the word. She gives Ben an alarmed look, which he meets with a smug little smile.
"You're going to Alaska this weekend?" Krennic clarifies. "To tell the family about your engagement?"
"We are," Rey says a little too quickly. "At least, the rest of his family. His uncle already knows, but then, he lives a lot closer and we see him more often."
"Okay." Krennic sighs a heavy, exasperated sigh. "Alright. I see how you're going to play this. You're determined, I'll give you that. We'll see if that will save you in the end. I'm penciling you in for your interviews, since that's the next step. Give me a second to see how soon I can get you in."
There's a long, awkward silence. Rey and Ben glance at each other, and then away again quickly. Is this working? He doesn't seem like he believes them, but they've passed this step and are moving onto the next — so isn't that good?
Krennic finally looks up from his computer. "Alright. I have two weeks from today at three-thirty. Does that work for both of you?"
"What's the date on that?" Rey asks.
"It'll work," Ben overrides. She gives him a sharp look, and he shrugs. "I know your schedule, sweetheart, and so far you don't have any meetings on that day."
"Look at you all organized," she says, syrupy sweet, bordering on acidic.
Krennic observes the interaction before adding the appointment. "You're all set. I'll see you both in two weeks. Be ready. And good luck in Alaska."
"Thanks," says Ben. He stands. Rey follows suit. He takes her hand.
They don't even bother bidding goodbye before they're rushing out of the office as fast as they can, hands separating the second they're out of sight, spilling out onto the crowded Manhattan sidewalk like they're already running from the cops. But Rey is quick on her feet and she's had practice eluding law enforcement. She's already ten steps ahead of Ben, both figuratively and literally.
"Okay, so Alaska is not ideal with everything going on with Pryde's authors, but we'll send them an email telling them we're still honoring all contracts and that I'll handle their affairs while we figure out who is going to replace him. In the meantime, go ahead and get the flights — I'll spring for you to fly first class this time so it looks more convincing — but make sure we get the miles — Ben?"
She turns, realizing he's not following. In fact, he's standing still and stiff, glowering at her again with that really intense expression that's worn a couple times today. Like he wants her to fall into a crack in the earth.
She huffs impatiently. "What's your problem?"
"Rey," he growls.
"Look, you're getting awfully familiar with my name. Don't forget the truth in the midst of all this. You're still my assistant and I still expect—"
"Rey."
Her words cut off with a gasp because a wave of tingles races down her spine at the way he says it this time, making her forget what she was about to say. I takes her a second, but she's about to put him back in his place when he's suddenly all up in her business, way too close, anger radiating off him in waves so thick she can almost taste it.
"What?" she snaps, taking a step back, and it's the best she can do to keep her footing because she's remembering how sinfully good it felt to have him be this closer and closer still.
"I am the one replacing Pryde," he says slowly and deliberately. "I am the one who will take over his authors."
"Make you an editor?" She scoffs. "You thought we were serious in there?"
"I was serious. I'm risking a felony and federal prison for you. So you're going to do it," he says calmly, his voice low and dark. It's laced with influence and power. She's never seen this side of him before.
"No." She manages to keep her head this time. Ben deserves the position, he does, but she can't. "First of all, the HR complications alone—"
"Screw HR. Make me editor, or I'll walk."
"What?"
"I'll quit."
"You wouldn't do that." She knows he wouldn't. "You've worked too hard and suffered too many indignities to walk away now."
"I'll do it. You don't know this, and my uncle doesn't know this, but Alistair Snoke over at Imperial Books? He's been trying to poach me."
"Imperial?" Her face twists horror. "You'd really go there?"
"I don't want to go, but I'd rather do that than whatever this sick game of yours is."
"It's not a g—"
"Fine. I quit. You can tell Luke for me." He straightens, smooths his tiny shirt, and brushes past her to begin striding down the sidewalk.
"Ben, wait!" The nerve of him making her run after him again. Where has all this attitude come from? Is he really so spooked by the threat of prison? He'd probably do fine in prison. He's like...the alpha of all alpha males. He could have everyone in there falling all over themselves to please him. Not that going to prison is ever a desirable outcome. It won't even come to that. He's just being skittish.
Still, risk him going over to Imperial?
"Okay, okay, fine," she says, almost out of breath by the time she catches up to him. "You can be editor. I don't know if you can be editor at RESIST because—"
"Rey," he snarls in such a way that a chill runs down her spine.
"God, alright, alright, you can have Pryde's job. I'll get the approval from Luke and inform the authors by email tonight."
"And you have to read that manuscript I recommended to you."
She makes a noise of disgust. "It's unagent—"
"I don't care. You'll read it."
Rey rubs her temples sighing. He's really on a power trip, and she's never had to rise to meet him like this before. She's exhausted. Is all this worth it?
"Fine, fine. Any other demands, Mister Blackmail?"
A nasty, wicked little smirk curls at the corner of his lips. She's never seen that look on him in the three years he's worked for her. It's a cocksure look, and it chills her blood with foreboding.
"I can think of a few more, but I think I'll show you the mercy you've never shown me in all these years and let you off easy. That'll be it."
"Wow, so very generous of you." She scowls and picks at a loose thread under the sleeve of her suit jacket. Cheap fast fashion falling apart again, predictably. It's easier to think about this splitting seam rather than whatever this weird new dynamic is between them. "So we'll just fly up there and tell them and fly home. No big deal. Then we'll get ready for the interview."
Ben's jaw rolls and his intense stare finally moves off of her, over her head. His belligerent look is gone, replaced by a stormy, troubled one. "We're spending the weekend with my family, and we'll tell them on my terms."
"Is Luke going to be there?" Even though he knows about the ruse, Rey isn't sure she can bear a weekend with her boss. Not when she's got to perform this awful charade the whole time. Luke would laugh his hairy hide off. She can't take that kind of humiliation.
"I doubt it." Ben shrugs. "He hasn't come home in decades, but it is his mother's 90th. Who knows?"
"Do I need to pack snowshoes?"
He barks a rough laugh. "Summer in Alaska, Rey. Bring a bikini and flipflops. I'm taking the rest of the day off, by the way. I look forward to that email with my authors. See you at the airport tomorrow."
Watching him walk away with a new confidence in his stride makes her blood boil.
"Extortion is a highly unethical means of promotion," she calls after him.
"Extortion is a highly unethical means of a green card," he calls back, waving and grinning before turning and heading out again.
Dammit.