4/1/2
"Follow up meeting on the…" Kylo checks his calendar. "Third?"
Kinear blinks at that. "I'm available, but I've got you marked as off-duty then."
Kylo growls quietly. "I had certainly intended to be. Then I caught the plague and burned through—"
Kinear stops him. "Kylo, you're allowed off days. You're allowed to get sick. You're allowed to go on vacation. We are not actively fighting. We are not on a war footing. And even if we were, the men in charge get breaks because without rest, you can't think."
Kylo blinks.
"Look, everyone is under the impression that you're a hell of a lot easier to work with when you get time away from here. Not only that, but you're better at the job when you leave it for a bit. You think better, you make better decisions, and you're faster on the uptake, so, please, as a personal favor to me and the entire rest of the Order, take your time off."
Kylo just stares. "I… really?"
"Yes, really. I've double checked the bloody records. You know you're basically the only person in the First Order who never had a day off? Hux had off time, not a lot of it, but he took it. Even Snoke took vacations, Kylo. My guess is part of you never being off was Snoke making sure you didn't get enough of your brain in charge to take him out, and we saw how well that worked."
He hadn't known that, but suddenly a collection of Snoke's personal missions are making more sense. "Oh… Uh… Then… The sixth?"
"Better." Kinear's still staring at him. They didn't have any meetings scheduled during the days he was supposed to be, but wasn't, off last month, and Kylo can feel him thinking take all of it.
"The seventh?"
Kinear nods, is quiet for a moment, and then he says, "There will, I'm sure, be times when you can't get away. And with the way Ellie's about to ramp up your calendar, off time may be getting scarce soon. I've had full years where I was on duty every single day. But… we don't have to do that right now, and if we do have to do that, we're going to do a much better job of it if we're not going into it completely exhausted. Fresh men, fresh troops… Even the fucking machinery needs downtime." He sighs. "I very much appreciate you reaching out and forming a friendship with Jon. I think he's good for you and vice versa. That said, the only downside of you only being close with Jon is that Jon works all the time so he doesn't have to go back to his empty apartment. If you had other friends, you'd realize that most of us can do this job and not have to be at it all day every day."
Kylo nods slowly at that. "Okay… What's a… normal… amount of time off."
"The men get eight off a day and two off every ten. We've got twelve months, and three tens per month, so…"
"At least forty-eight off?"
Kinear bites his lip. "Seventy-two." He's quiet, and Kylo's blushing. "Speaking of working better when you're well-rested."
"Uh, yeah…" Kylo wants to curl into a little ball. He knows how to multiply six by twelve, it's just somehow six by eight got in there, maybe because it's the fourth month now, and he's answering for the rest of the year, and not the question asked, but… That happened a lot when he was a kid. He'd have the right answer for something, just not necessarily the question he was being asked. "I take more than eight off a day."
"A lot of officers do. It's not a hard and fast rule. You know what the work is," he gestures to the datapads. There are only three of them on his desk now. His personal one, which currently has enough reports to last from now until the end of time on it, and the two that Kinear brought with him for this, that have reports that cannot be seen by the wrong people, and thus aren't on the system. "Take the time you need to be able to focus on it well enough to do it, and then get it done."
"Apparently, spending eleven days on my ass does not eat up my off-time," Kylo says to Rey as he's setting food on the table in front of her.
She looks mildly surprised, and then pleased by that, and then slightly down. "That's good?"
He shrugs. "Maybe? I'm also apparently taking way too few off days, too. Something like two off out of every ten is normal."
She blinks at him, never having comprehended that much time to do… nothing. "What would you do with that much time off?"
"I have no idea." He pulls the plates to them, and she starts to dish up the meal. "Be here, I guess? I'd say maybe we could travel or something, but my guess is we're going to be sick of that in the not too distant future."
Rey sighs at that. After New Alderaan, Ellie's supposed to have the first collection of 'new experiences' ready to go. "We need to do at least some. Go see Ahch-To, find an island that looks good."
"I suppose that's an off-time sort of thing to do. Plan that, get it set up and ready to go. You need someone who can do that, and suddenly a pile of time just opened in my schedule."
Rey knows that's true. And she knows that Kylo knows she's not leaping for joy at the idea of this. So, she understands he's offering to just give it to her, as a finished deal. But that feels… off. "I was hoping we'd do that together."
"Okay," Kylo says. (Though it's clear he's wondering if this is a way for her to push looking for a new place further off. Rey rolls her eyes; it might be.)
"I'm scheduled for the next few days. Back when you set up the idea of off-time in the first place, I had Poe here covering me, but you got sick, so, I told him I'd be here, and he's off, so…"
"Right." Because she's got twenty-four little responsibilities here who require some level of access to adults. "Is this the sort of here where you've got to be around the whole time, or…"
"I can't leave for three days straight, but after the kids are done with cooking supper, I'm free."
Kylo nods. Her usual evenings free sort of schedule. There are fun things to be done in the evenings. He remembers buying the panties and strap, and his thoughts about taking Rey to the R&R section, and how good that felt, and… maybe they could do some shopping, of a personal nature, together… After dinner. Or maybe with dinner…
There's a word for what he's thinking, and it takes a moment for him to find it, but he does, and then says, "Would you like to go on a date with me?"
Rey blinks slightly at him. "A date?"
"Yeah, that's the word Jon uses to describe this. You, me, we go out, do some romantic-type things, have a good time together."
"We've been on dates before."
"We have, but not like the one I'm thinking of." He smiles at her, and she knows that naughty glint in his eyes.
She could just gently nudge his mind and know what he's contemplating, but decides against it. "So, you want to take me out, for… a good time."
He grins at her, eyes dark with amusement. "Very much so." He thinks some more. "Do you have a free night, and an early morning with nothing scheduled?"
"This date may involve sleeping late?"
"I really hope so."
She smiles back at him. "I'm intrigued."
"Good."
4/3/2
It feels absurdly bizarre to wake up, watch Rey go off to do the first lessons with the kids, and then do… nothing.
For the first few moments, Kylo's just wandering around their home. He washes up the breakfast dishes. That eats up an additional three minutes. Putting them back is one more.
He tries to remember the last time he had fully unscheduled free time. Vacations with Rey, getting sick…
Okay, healthy, unscheduled, on his own time.
He's coming to the conclusion that he's never had hours of time where he got to do whatever the hell it was he wanted with them that weren't part of some sort of vacation with Rey.
Reading that novel. Right, there'd been a few hours where she was getting all dressed up and he had to amuse himself and… He supposes he could do that again. Make himself another cup of coffee, get into the library, and read for a while.
He glances at the comfy chair, and her datapad… Her datapad. The one with the history of Alderaan that she wasn't exactly thrilled to share with him because she utterly loathes him seeing her be less than awesome at something. The start of a plan begins, but… Just read all day? And then what…
Shit, he needs a plan.
Kylo's not sure what it says about him that he's having a considerably better time with his 'off time' now that he's sitting, with a cup of coffee, and his data pad, scheduling out his days, but… Well, it's helping.
He doesn't feel so nervously open. He's half-amusedly thinking that dark-siders should be good at just winging it, but as he's debating what to fill this afternoon with, (he types: Develop taste in music?) it's occurring to him that being someone who's had basically every moment of his life scheduled for the last thirty-two… three… (he takes a moment, actually converts the date, and realizes his birthday is next month) thirty-two years, that maybe it's okay to ease into this free time thing with some light (heavy) planning.
Besides, this date thing he's contemplating for tomorrow night likely requires scheduling and… possibly an addition to his wardrobe. He was certainly thinking a long coat would be a good plan, and the idea of going to a sex shop with Rey… Yeah, he's going to need some level of camouflage. (He erases Develop taste in music? And types in Get coat.)
After a bit, he sits back and nods. Okay, he's got a plan.
And the first thing on the plan, two hours to sit down and read something that isn't a fucking report.
Rey's datapad. Well… technically, it's probably Threepio's.
She wasn't entirely enthusiastic about him reading the Alderaan history. And… well… he knows part of it is she finds it frustrating, and she doesn't exactly love situations where he gets to see her struggle with something. She prefers to be effortlessly good at things, or at least have the image of that.
Especially with him. They don't talk about the fact that she sort of feels like she 'cheated' by just sucking fifteen years of Jedi training directly out of his head… And, he didn't exactly help that with the whole 'teacher' comment, and…
He knows her wariness about him reading this isn't trying to keep him from getting at the information. It's a deeper and somewhat twisty little worm in her head that's afraid that if they both have to learn something he's going to immediately take to it, and she's going to be floundering around, actually in need of a teacher.
Both of them know that's not exactly true, especially because he takes to new disciplines with the grace and elegance of a Favier on ice. (He sniggers at that mental image. The poor thing really didn't have a clue what to do when its paws went out from under it. Apparently, ice is not a thing on Canto Bight.)
But it's still there, and… He's okay with not poking it. Especially to her face.
But, she's not here right now, so…
He opens up the files, and finds there are several histories of Alderaan and New Alderaan, and settles down, eyes starting to skim the lines.
He wonders, idly, if Darth Vader, if the 'grandfather' in his mind would have held such sway if he'd had the chance to build roots in a different community. Probably, wouldn't have mattered. He had stories of Breha and Bail, some at least, and Ben Kenobi, and of course how Vader turned in the end, but he wasn't steeped in any given tradition or culture.
Luke didn't know enough of the old ways to give them the sense that they were following in a million year long path, and Leia didn't give him roots in the ashes of Alderaan, and Han didn't know enough of his family to even try.
He sips his coffee, eyes returning to the text. Maybe he won't take root, but it's a start. Stories for his children, even if he's got to look the damn things up himself.
When he looks up from the history, feeling fairly pleased with this part of the plan, three hours have passed, and he's well into the Beat on training droids/workout part of the day and getting close to Go fetch lunch for Rey and I.
For a heartbeat, he feels really startled, and a bit ashamed, he's on day one of this, on a plan he made himself, and he's already failed the damn thing, but…
He can actually feel the dark creeping up on him, starting to spiral in and around him, and he intentionally shuts it down.
He's on vacation. He made a schedule just to help keep himself more comfortable with the pile of not much to do. There is no one checking up on him. No one is going to be disappointed in him if he reads instead of working out. He has choices today and it's okay to just flow from one to the next and enjoy them.
He can go get food now (because fetch lunch and dinner are pretty much the only things on the list that he really needs to do) and then work out after lunch and… Thinking about food, something occurs to him, he actually can cook. There's not much in the kitchen here, but… Jon's got a kitchen in his flat, so there have to be places on the F-Deck where you can get un-prepared food, right?
He thinks he used to like doing that, or at least didn't hate it, back at Luke's. And… if he got to intentionally make food that was designed to be tasty as opposed to as nutritious as possible… he might like that even more… And… It's been a while since he spent some real time with Ostrae… Maybe… If she's got some free time, they could… bake something, together.
He jots that down on his potential plan for the afternoon of the day after tomorrow. (Tomorrow after lunch he's got blocked out for Date with Rey.)
On the F-Deck, rapidly coming to the conclusion that obtain food to cook is a significantly more complicated endeavor than he's thinking it'll be, Kylo bumps that to his next break.
Apparently, cooking, assuming you want to make things that taste good, involves having some idea of what it is you intend to cook, and what goes into it, and where to get those things and…
Next break.
He wanders over to a noodle cart, and gets two bowls of some sort of vegetable over cold noodles in a savory sauce, and feels a certain sense of accomplishment when he gets home with lunch before Rey's done with her lessons.
"Could I shadow your lessons the day after tomorrow?" he asks Rey during lunch, as they're slorping down the noodles.
She raises an eyebrow.
He shrugs a little, and then looks out toward what would be, if it weren't snowing so hard, a view of the rest of the settlement, and the kitchen where everything takes place now. "I just… I don't actually know what it is you really do here on a given day, and… I'd kind of like to know, and… I don't know… Maybe actually learn more about what being a Maji is?"
Rey's still looking awfully skeptical. "I thought you'd had enough 'balance, focus, find your quiet spot' lessons for one lifetime."
Kylo sighs. That's a big part of not having sat in on any of her previous lessons. Maintaining the balance of them not being a teacher for each other is another part of it. Not being flamingly bad at it, in front of her, is another. "I may have, and it's possible I'll bug out after the first one, but… Do you mind?"
"No, not at all! I just didn't think it was the sort of thing you'd enjoy."
He shrugs a bit. "Maybe it's not but… I guess I'm trying new things."
She smiles at him a bit. "Good."
Kylo might not know exactly what's going to happen tomorrow night, but he does know that he's not making the same mistake he made last time. This time, he's going in properly covered.
It's not like being an adolescent Padawan, wearing loose, drapy drawstring trousers and a simple tunic over them, thus resulting in erections visible from orbit. (At least that's how it felt.) Last time he was wearing snug trousers and snug shorts, so it wasn't as much of an issue, but still… He knows he caught at least a few… possibly admiring… or at least appraising, glances in the direction of his shaft, so…
He's got to get something to cover it up.
Actually, that's not quite true. He has clothing that covers that bit of him quite nicely, it just happens to all be his command or formal blacks, which are NOT going to work for this particular plan.
It's one thing for people to speculate what the Master gets up to when he's having a good time. It's a whole other thing for them to know.
He'd been thinking of getting a long coat, because, like the tunics he has for his blacks, that'll hang down in front of him, and keep any less than discrete bulges covered up.
And he's about to give Jon a quick call and see where one would go to get something like that when a few thoughts occur to him. Firstly, Jon does have a real job, and showing him the ins and outs of the ship he ostensibly commands is not among them. Secondly, he is in possession of a data pad which contains not only a listing of every shop on this ship, but a map of where they are.
This is a problem he can solve for himself.
So, he does.
He's seven subsections away from the shop that sells coats. He certainly can walk that. If he jogs a bit, he's sure he can get there and back in the time allotted between now and supper. He just… doesn't know if he needs to.
He does know that some sort of snack is in order, so that's the first thing he's going to do.
Kylo's starting to feel like he could maybe get used to doing this. Looking around, seeing where people are, using Poe's advice, if there's a big line in a place where there are a lot of options to eat, whatever's at the end of that line will be good, and then queuing up.
That part is fine. The fact that the people around him still don't know what to do with him is… Annoying. That's probably the word that most readily accompanies this feeling.
As soon as the couple in front of him noticed he was behind them, they jolted to attention, and all but leapt out the way to let him take their place in the line.
Then they wilted when he glared at them, pointed to where they had been, and quietly said, "I'm not in so big of a rush as to need to line jump."
That got both of them stepping back into place, but doing so made the people in front of them notice something was up, and then they leapt to attention and… The other people in line can feel something is going on, so more of them are looking, and stiffening up, and…
"I just want to get some food. You just want to get some food. This will work a hell of a lot better if you pretend I'm just another member of the Order looking to eat."
That gets a collection of extremely tense and uneasy people turning back around toward the front of the line, all pummeling Kylo with very intense thoughts along the lines of what the hell are they supposed to do now.
(And, of course, there is no one in line behind him.)
He figures that Schiff is absolutely right, no one wants him showing up for an unexpected visit. Even here and now, at rest, they're edgy about him being behind him. He's very aware that everyone in the line just stopped talking about work, too. No one wants him to overhear them complaining about anything.
Ellie's probably right, too. He should visit his ships, and as many of his recruiting stations/outposts as he can, let them at least attempt to get used to him being around, but he's got to let them know he's coming ahead of time, or he'll just get a lot of this. Very tense people, trying to stare at him without moving their eyes.
On the upside, when he does get to the other end of the line, he finds the cart is selling some sort of protein patty on a bun with sweet/sour relish. It's awfully good, and the proprietor is with it enough to figure out that if he was willing to wait in line, he's not going to appreciate not paying. (Though Kylo is suspicious that just possibly everyone else didn't get quite so many of the crispy fried vegetable sticks that went with the sandwich.)
He notices, looking around, that it's true that a lot of people are eating at the tables around him, but some of them are taking advantage of the small packet the food is in, to eat on the move. And there is a tram… slowing down, pointed in the direction he wants to go, not too far from him.
Kylo speeds up, and meets the tram where it stops. He's never been on one and is a little unsure of the mechanics, but the people around him wait for the people on the tram to get off, and then they hop on, so he does, too.
He settles back into his seat, and notices that he does not have to share. He's got his whole row to himself, and the ones in front and behind him, and then, with nothing else to do as the tram starts to move, he eats his snack, and pays attention.
Everyone around him on this level is an officer. Supposedly. Maybe someone on the tram, or some of the people hurrying around are enlisted sent here to locate and fetch an officer. Everyone else is of rank, and given where they are and what they're doing, likely moving to or from a work shift.
At least half of the people on the tram, like him, are in casual clothing, so relaxing after work. Or before. Or today may be their off day.
He's half thinking it might be nice to talk to some of them, ask about what they do, and how they spend their off time, but again, he can feel just being near them is making them nervous.
It's hard to relax when the man in charge is around.
It's hard to relax when you are the man in charge. Everyone who's recognized who he is is watching very carefully, cataloging his clothing, hair style, what he's eating, how he eats it. He's mentally snarking about how one of them has likely counted his nose hairs by now, but… They don't usually see him, so he supposes staring is normal. (He also supposes doing things where he leaves his office and lets them see him is probably in order, too. That triggers another thought, Jon's mentioned it takes close to an hour to get to him, and… he checks his chrono, and yes, he's an hour into his mission to go find a coat, so… His datapad is not glued to his desk. He probably could plop his ass at one of the tables in the food courts and work there. That might make low stakes meetings easier for his men to get to.)
He can also feel a lot of them are intrigued by the idea that he's here, sitting near them, eating a sandwich and going somewhere.
Being, flagrantly, off-duty.
Just like they are.
There are two, near the front of the tram, who are very much off-duty, and apparently having a good time of it. He can't imagine they're ranked much above Ensign, maybe a First Lieutenant. If they're older than Jacen, it's by months, not years.
They keep turning to look at him, and then whipping back around, eyes front, to whisper to each other. He absolutely knows by the exaggerated way they're whipping back to eyes front that both of them are drunk.
One of the two of them, a tall, dark-haired young man, turns to him again, and then, gathering up his courage, he stands up, swaying a bit, and heads back to Kylo. He doesn't sit down, but he does stand in front of the seat in front of Kylo, and then says, "Excuse me, sir. My friend and I have a bet, and… I know this is forward, but…"
"Yes?"
"Are you really here, or did we drink way the fuck too much?"
Kylo looks down, bites his lip, and silently laughs for a moment before looking up. "I'm really here, but if you had drunk too much, isn't that what your hallucination would say?"
That idea completely staggers that drunk, and the people in the tram around them are all staring now.
Finally, the drunk says, "If you're really here, what's something you know, that I don't?"
"Among other things, how not to get so drunk in public that I end up chatting with hallucinations."
"See, that sounds like something a hallucination would say."
Kylo smiles at that. "Indeed. How about this," he takes a moment to quickly rifle through the surface thoughts of the… he most certainly is an Ensign, in front of him. "This is your first long break since you got your Ensigns's pip, and you and your friend are overdoing it. I'd suggest heading home, drinking a lot of water before you pass out, and making sure you've got some sort of analgesic on hand, because when you wake up, you're going to wish someone would smother you with a pillow to put you out of your misery."
The Ensign's eyes are wide, and he's astonished by the amazing wisdom of the great Kylo Ren. Then his eyes narrow. "That's something I know that you don't."
Kylo cocks his head and takes a bite of his sandwich. "Maybe I am a hallucination. Where are you stationed?"
"Here, this hallway, subsection 15." Three stops from where they are now.
"No. I mean, what is your duty?"
"Oh. Right now, I'm a watch officer."
Kylo tries not to laugh at that, too. "So, it's your job to make sure the enlisted show up on time at the right place at the right time, and get their jobs done?"
"Yes... Should I call a hallucination, Sir?"
Kylo mildly says, "That's not the worst idea you've ever had," very aware of all the other officers staring at them, hoping this poor twit isn't going to get his ass handed to him by one of them when he sober and back on duty.
He nods so hard he almost topples over and says, "Sir."
"You're allowed your pleasures on your off time." He hope that neuters any desire the other officers might have to spank this kid for being fresh. "But, it absolutely wouldn't do for you to be late to your next shift."
"Of course, sir!" He snaps off something that would have been a fairly impressive salute if he hadn't slapped himself in the forehead.
"Dismissed."
"Yes, sir." And the drunk goes wandering back to his buddy, and then spends the rest of the ride giggling with him about their encounter with Kylo Ren.
Meanwhile, the people seated near him continue to do their best to not look directly at him while being utterly amazed at what he did with that encounter.
Kylo sighs a bit and wonders if this will ever wear off. Maybe, its possible, there might be a time when he can be out, and be Kylo, and just… be a person. Probably not here.
It's exactly what the entry in the Order F-Deck guide said it would be. A store. That sells coats. For men. It should have precisely what Kylo's looking for.
But… if he thought about it… Well, okay, no he's not capable of coming up with this thought unprompted, but here he is, in the store, prompted as fuck, and… Yeah.
Kylo sighs, walking around, feeling the extremely startled gaze of the proprietor on him, as he confirms his suspicions.
Three years ago, this was still the First Order. Right now, it's the Order. A formal great coat is part of the official uniform of Order, and previously First Order, officers.
There are long coats here. They are, he can see, very nice long coats. Even Kylo recognizes good leather, better stitching, and quality workmanship. The problem is, they're all greatcoats. And most of them are black. There are a few gray, a few blue, and a spattering of brown ones, but… They're greatcoats, and he's sure, that given where he is, this is where officers buy the greatcoat that is supposed to be part of their uniform when they want a nicer one than the standard issue wool one that comes with their first Ensign's pip.
"Master!" And now he's got the proprietor at his left hand, all but quivering with the desire to be helpful. "Sir! I'm so honored to have you in my store. What can I do for you?" He's blushing, eyeing Kylo's shoulders, and blushing more. "Sir… You're a… I mean… I can make anything you may want, but…"
Kylo mentally rolls his eyes. "You've got nothing that's going to look right with my shoulders and waist?"
The owner nods, embarrassed. "I can fit your shoulders and chest, and as long as you keep it unbuttoned, it will work just fine, but as soon as you close the coat, it will be clear that it's made for a man with more belly than you."
He's still eyeing Kylo.
"To a degree that's not that big of a problem. A coat like this should hang straight or slightly narrower at the waist, but…"
"But none of the coats you have here will do that for me?"
"No, my Lord, I am sorry. If you'd let me measure you, I can have one made, quickly. Tomorrow, the day after…" There are beads of sweat on the man's forehead, and Kylo doesn't need to be empathic to know that if there will be a perfectly tailored coat for him tomorrow or the next day, it will be because this man doesn't sleep between now and delivering it.
Kylo shakes his head. "I was mostly just curious." He mostly had a very different idea of a long coat. He's never worn a First Order uniform, and intentionally has maintained that through moving into the Order. He doesn't feel a need to put on the uniform designed by and for men like Hux. And, honestly, he's big enough as is, he doesn't need to add a garment designed to make his shoulders look even bigger. People will start to mistake him for construction equipment if he gets much bigger than he currently is.
Unfortunately, that response depresses the tailor. He'd been very pleased by the idea of getting something of his onto Kylo.
Kylo tries a soft smile. "I was looking for something casual." He was looking for something that he could close in front, and these are just not going to do that, either. He supposes if the shadows hit everything right, they'd be good camouflage, but none of these coats are going to work the way his tunic does. "And… It's clear, everything in here is just too… good… for casual wear."
"I can make something casual."
Kylo mentally rolls his eyes. There is no way of getting out of this store without giving the man a commission or breaking his heart unless he uses his powers.
He's subtle about it, and tries to be diplomatic, but he knows it's the mind trick, and not his ability to persuade that wins this. "I know you can, and I'm sure it would be lovely, but you don't need to. I'm perfectly satisfied with this encounter, and have exactly what I need from it."
The tailor's eyes light up. 'Oh, Master Ren, that's wonderful. If you ever need anything…"
"I'll make sure to call upon you."
"Thank you so much!"
As he's leaving the store Kylo pulls up his do-not-recognize spell. Trying to shop for anything more expensive than food while being Kylo Ren means having to walk on vibro-blades to try and get service and not appall/terrify/insult the proprietor, or have them want to shoot themselves when they don't have what he needs.
As he's walking through this market section, which appears to have a lot of clothing stores, the thought hits that it doesn't much matter what he's wearing. At least, if Jon got that story about the blond, bespectacled, orange jumper-wearing version of him correct.
That thought has him wondering what he must look like, now, to the people around him. Whatever it is, they aren't paying much attention. He supposes he could just drop into someone else's mind and get a view, but that would require making sure one of them notices him. He glances at the windows of the shops he's passing, wishing he could catch a reflection of what they see.
All he sees is him.
And… behind him… Kylo stops walking. He made a joke about one once, to Rey. Back when he was still wearing the trousers with the fifteen button flies. Something like, "I'll get a kilt. You could just flip it up." And Rey told him he had bony knees and he posed for her and said something about striking terror into the heart of the galaxy with his white, bony knees.
And there, in front of him, is indeed, a black kilt. The other things in the store look fairly casual, and he feels himself drift in.
He's standing in front of it. It's not just black. It's got pleats in the back, and the outside of the pleats are black, and the inside is gray, and all of it is the most supple leather he's ever touched. It feels stupidly good under his fingers. Thick, heavy, smooth, with an easy drape.
He's a little wary of the easy drape. Anything protruding under the kilt will likely show up. But… it's also heavy enough that anything attempting to protrude from under the kilt will likely keep pointing down, or, if he arranged himself properly, spend it's time snug against his belly or hip.
It would probably end up working a lot like his tunic did. Wear something snug under it, and the weight of the garment would keep everything else discreet.
He looks at the sweater he's wearing right now. It comes down to just above his pelvis. Put that with the kilt, and… He could likely go shopping with Rey for fun stuff and not end up with too many people getting a very good idea of what he looks like when he's having a very good time.
One other thought hits him as he's going through them, looking for the waist size he remembers from Jon's note, with something like this, it doesn't matter that men with his waist rarely have the size thighs he does. As long as it fits his waist, the rest of him will slip into this nice and easy, too.
He's smirking, feeling very pleased, as the attendant comes over and asks if he wants to try it on before he buys it.
And, anonymous, all he feels off of her is the desire for the commission she'll get if she sells this to him. She isn't scared, or feeling the need to grovel with him. She's being a bit warmer and more flirtatious than she'd be otherwise, but apparently men are more likely to buy things from women who stand a little too close and make fluttery eyes at them.
He wonders if that would work if Rey wasn't in his life, but it's mostly absent wondering. There are certainly women from whom he likely would buy anything they handed him, but for whatever reason, this one isn't hitting him that way. Possibly because it's so bright in the top of her mind that selling him, and every other person who walks in here and likes women, clothing is why she's so warm and friendly and standing too close.
As he's heading out, kilt in a bag in his hand, he's feeling pretty good about tomorrow.
And better about tonight. He's sure if he brings home more of those sandwiches, Rey'll be really pleased with him.
With an hour to go before he needs to get supper and go home, another thought hits Kylo. There are probably variations as to what different Specs offer, and there are likely… aesthetic issues involved, and… He thinks a little further… The Finalizer had a compliment of 74,000 when he was there. It's got to be up to 90,000 by now which means there's at least 900 Specs on board.
The chance of him just strolling up to a place where he and Rey can get a good massage, and just a good massage, and say… not end up with someone who expects to offer them a whole lot more than a massage, likely aren't great.
And it would be at this point where it occurs to him, that yes, he's got the Supremacy directory, he does not have the one for the Finalizer so unless he asks for a copy of one, which will likely involve either explaining why he wants one, or just looking at C8 hard enough that he decides not to ask, the only way he's going to somehow, magically, take them to the right sort of place and that place just happens to have an opening for them, is by sheer luck of the Force.
Or, he can go back to his room, sit down the with directory, and find out what's available here, on the Supremacy.
He's been scrolling through names for five solid minutes. He's absolutely correct about the Specs having specialties, and preferred services, and customers, and… Yeah. Just walking into a place is a bad idea.
Finally, he says, "C8, what's the compliment on the Supremacy now?"
"We're up to six point three million on board."
"Thank you." Well, that explains the scrolling. Unless there's waiting lists stretching into next week, there's likely at least fifteen thousand Specs on board, and given what he's hoping to turn this ship into, likely more.
There's an address search feature. He puts in F-Deck. No need to go scanning through the ladies that work on C, D, or E; he knows he's not going there. That narrows it down some. He whimpers slightly, he's still got 1287 options.
Massage narrows it down some, men and women narrows it down a little, couples gets it down a bit more, but by the time he's put in every keyword he can think of, he's still got 400 options, and that's just too damn many for him to search through in… A quick glance at the chrono shows he's got twenty minutes before he needs to get home with dinner.
Okay. He doesn't have to get this figured out right this second. He's got unscheduled time tomorrow morning, too, so he can… Try to narrow the search down more, and…
Well… He does know someone who's done this. Here. And it's not like the man is under any illusions about him, so…
He jots down a quick note.
Jon,
I'm not calling because this isn't a big enough deal to disrupt whatever you're up to right now.
But, I'm hoping to take Rey out tomorrow night, and get us both massages. I remember you mentioning fun with bath time and a massage, and… Is there anyone you'd recommend? And… (he's decidedly not blushing as he's typing this) someone who won't be fussed if we just want massages. Any post-massage fun will be had without outside help. (He figures that's specific enough.)
I can make an appointment myself. (Theoretically, he thinks.) I just need a clue as to who to try and book.
Thanks,
Kylo
He's half a minute from gathering up everything to go home when his comm chimes.
"Okay, this is vastly more entertaining than the contract I'm going through. You want Spec reccs?" Jon sounds supremely amused by this.
"Did you know there's something like 15,000 Specs on this ship?"
Jon laughs.
"And the directory tells me they've got specialties." It's clear from the way he pauses that he didn't exactly know what a good third of the listed specialties were.
He can feel the expression on Jon's face. "Oh, you'd be right about that. And let me guess, you really don't want to take Rey to the wrong place."
"I really don't. 'Here, Love, lets have a nice, relaxing night out, oh holy FUCK WHAT IS THAT!?'" (It's possible his voice might be a bit too emphatic here. But, he got curious after he saw 'sounding' three times, because he absolutely could not even begin to imagine what that was, so he looked it up. He wishes he didn't.)
Jon laughs for way too long at that line before saying, "Have you been drinking?"
"No, why?"
"Apparently, you're fun on vacation. Anyway. Yes, I have a recommendation. What time are you thinking?"
"I can make my own appointment."
Jon laughs at that, too. Apparently, he's just amusing as fuck right now. "I'm sure you can, but since my friend is very, very good at this, you need to book weeks in advance if you're not already a client. I didn't get the sense that your fun night out was for two months from now."
"Fuck."
"Since, I already am a client, let me book you and Rey."
Kylo's quiet. But, he's got to say it to get the idea across. "I was sort of hoping to go in cloaked."
Jon's quiet for a moment, because he's certain cloaked isn't the same thing for Kylo that it is for him. Then understanding dawns. "Oh, the thing where you don't look like you. Yeah, probably not a terrible idea. Does that work on people who are touching you and really paying attention?"
Kylo shrugs. "It has in the past."
"People who didn't expect to see Kylo Ren?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, what name do you use when you're not being Kylo?"
"Rey and Ben Amidala. And, time wise, probably looking for 18:00."
"Just getting the evening off to a good start?"
"That's the idea." He can feel Jon smiling at that. "Do you have time to grab lunch with me tomorrow?"
He can hear Jon shuffling things around, and understands he's checking his schedule. "Yes, and if you come to me, I've got more than ten minutes to do it in."
"I can come to you. Where'll you be?"
More shuffling sounds. "Actually, down on ZZ, looking at the layout. We've got a meeting to go over this stuff later next week, but a few minutes tomorrow could cover the basics."
"Okay, that'll work. If you've got a taste for something specific, let me know, and I'll make sure to bring it."
"Good. See you tomorrow."
He again beats Rey home.
It's cold. He turns on the cooker, and opens the door. Turns on the burners, too.
She wants to look for a new home with him, so… Sure, good, but… He decides to check his personal chrono to see if it has temperature sensors. It does. He takes it off and checks. It's 14. Inside. With the heat on.
Yes, they get cold snaps. It's not snowing right now, and that tends to go along with the temperature dropping, but… A year… That might be too generous on the time frame for when they've got to get out of here.
Poe's back the day after tomorrow. They need to sit down and talk about getting a sooner rather than later plan into play for getting everyone out of here. The mental image of talking with Poe about ferrying the equipment necessary for a full ecology scan while working on his waltz forms in his mind, and he sniggers at it.
"What's got you laughing?" Rey asks, startling him so badly he almost drops the sandwiches.
"Uh…" Shit, he's blushing, and he knows it'll take her barely a second of effort to figure it out.
"Kylo?"
He can't get it out of the top of his thoughts. It's glowing there, dancing with Poe, learning, his wedding surprise for her, refusing to be banished.
Her eyes narrow slightly. "I'm going to leave it alone, because I know it's a surprise, but if you'd think about it a little less, it'd be easier."
He bites his lip, nods, and looks at dinner. Food. Good food. Right. "I tried something new today."
That has Rey interested. "Good new?"
"Well, I brought more of it home, so… I liked it."
"Okay, let me take my boots off, and…" He's shaking his head. "No?"
"Floor's bloody cold." He'd taken his boots off when he got home and very quickly realized that was a bad plan. "Let the cooker get it a few more degrees up."
"Okay," she sits at the table, notices her datapad where he left it. "Were you reading my pad?"
He doesn't exactly feel guilty about that, but he also wasn't invited to do it, either. He puts the sandwiches and fried veggie sticks on plates for them. "You wanna get drinks?"
She stands up and pours some pear cider into a pot on the burner. A hot drink'll go down a treat right now. "Evading?"
"Cold." He puts the plates in the cooker to keep them warmer while the drink heats. "And, uh, yeah. I was. You weren't wrong, New Alderaan history is a sarlac."
"I told you."
"Yeah, well, I'm a glutton for punishment, so…"
She snerks slightly at that. "How far did you get?"
"Just got to intercontinental trade. The old ocean ships starting to bring goods from one side of the planet to the other, and how the Organas were captains and sailors."
She smiles a little at that. "You like that idea."
"A little. I… never had the chance to really feel like or… be… an Organa, I guess. But, I kind of like the idea of it, you know. Everything in the world that matters to you wrapped up in fragile shell of wood, taking it across dangerous seas by the light of the stars, hoping that if you're good at it, you'll make a fortune that secures the future for yourself and your family. That… resonates."
She smiles at that, too. "Does it, now?"
"Yeah… It does… Maybe… when we're done being the Master and Mistress, we'll get a good ship, and just get out there. Go from place to place and show our family the galaxy. Go back to the Maji in between adventures, and tell them what's out there, maybe take some of them along from time to time. Maybe just us for some of it."
Steam starts to rise from the pot. Rey pours the cider into mugs for them, and Kylo levitates the plates to the table. They sit, hip to hip, and she pulls the blanket from the comfy chair to wrap around the two of them while they eat.
"Do you like that idea?" he asks. "Or is that… not grounded enough?"
She shrugs a bit. "I think, if we've got a home base, somewhere to keep going back to at the end of the journeys, it will be."
"I can do that."
She takes a bite of the sandwich. "These are good. So, tell me about your adventures with unscheduled time."
He laughs at the idea of unscheduled, and begins to fill her in.