(Author's note: Because I like to know what my characters look like, I have cast actors to play FN-2817/Finn (John Boyega)'s fire-troop. We know from the prequel novella Before the Awakening that FN-2003/Slip had a pale complexion and hazel eyes (Cole Hauser), FN-2000/Zeroes had dark brown skin (David Oyelowo) and FN-2199/Nines had red hair and blue eyes (Zack Ward). You can ignore my choices if you disagree with them.

FN-3141/Pi is an original character, and I described her with pale eyebrows (let's say she looks something like Clare Bowen). I'm not sure if I'll ever write stories about her and Tonic and the rest of her fire-troop, but of course I've already made some up in my head!

-amy)

Medical technician FN-3141, who had gone by the nickname "Pi" since long before they were trainees, was dressed only in her bodysuit when they got to the tiny temporary medical quarters. She helped Slip take off his own armor before giving him a hug. It wasn't exactly common to be that physically familiar with troops outside your fire-team, but Pi had always been more touchy-feely than most. FN-2187 found himself watching with anticipation as she disconnected Slip's helmet and smiled at him.

I wanted to see his face, he realized with dismay as he slowly took off his own armor and helmet. Not for any good reason, just… because I miss it, already. How am I going to pull this off?

"We missed you," she said fondly. "Both of you. Have a seat there and I'll take care of FN-2187 so he can be on his way."

"Oh, I don't mind waiting for him," FN-2187 said. Slip nodded a quick agreement. She shrugged.

"Suit yourself." She knelt down and took his ankle in gentle hands, looking it over. "So how'd this happen, Oh-Three?"

"Uh…" Slip glanced over at FN-2187 and shrugged, his cheeks a little pink. "I'm using the name Slip now."

That made her laugh out loud. "I think I can guess why!"

Together, FN-2187 and Slip told an abbreviated version of the story of their last several days. They managed to get through it without too many awkward silences, or at least Pi was too enthralled by the story to notice the ones that emerged. She was an excellent listener; she clapped her hands and exclaimed in all the right places. By the end of their retelling, the tension that had been weighing on FN-2187 following the debriefing with Captain Phasma had largely disappeared, and they were both smiling.

"Did you miss your troop?" she wanted to know. "You must have. I think if I were separated from Tonic for that long, I would be going a little nuts."

FN-2187 couldn't help but notice that Pi didn't say she'd also miss the other two in her troop. He wondered if he would have noticed that comment at all before his mission to the planet.

"Yeah," he said, "I've never been away from them for that long. It was… educational."

Slip didn't respond, but FN-2187 could see he was blushing again. He winced a little when Pi gave the support bandage around his foot an extra tug to tighten it.

"We're all packing up to go back to base," she said. "I don't think you'll be doing anything that looks like active duty for a few days, Slip. I'm going to give you this anti-grav boot to wear. It should let you get around without needing to lean on anything." She buckled it on. "FN-2187, can you give him a hand walking? It might take him a few minutes to get used to it."

Slip did fine walking around with the boot on his own, but FN-2187 didn't object to the opportunity to move in close to him and support him around the waist for those minutes. Finally, Slip tried a little experimental bounce, only wobbling a bit.

"Excellent." Pi crossed her arms, beaming at them. "You'll come see me tomorrow when we get back to base. After firstmeal, okay? The sytheroids I gave you should have brought some of the swelling down by then, and we can look more carefully at your foot."

It might have been the stricken look on Slip's face when FN-2187 heard Pi say syntheroids, or it might have been Pi herself that decided him. "Slip, can you head back to the barracks without me? I have a few things I need from Pi before we go home."

"Sure, no problem." Slip didn't seem fazed by FN-2187's request. He fastened on his armor with a few practiced moves, ending with his helmet, then waved farewell.

But when Pi turned expectantly to FN-2187, he had to pause and collect his thoughts. He wasn't sure what to say and what not to say. He picked up a plastic cannula from the shelf and began inspecting it, trying to gather his nerve.

"What can I do for you, FN-2187?" she asked.

His number sounded strangely awkward coming from her lips, she who called her own fire-teammates by familiar nicknames: Tonic, Odds, Tutu. He'd himself had never had a nickname before, even though most stormtroopers did, and he'd never asked his teammates for one. And yet, now, wondering if he'd ever hear the name Baby again, he wasn't sure he wanted to be called FN-2187 anymore. He thought, if Pi said it again, he might very well start crying right there.

"This room." He looked up into the corners, where the recording devices were usually mounted. "It's private? Nobody's listening?"

"As private as one gets in makeshift med quarters on an unnamed Type 1 world, yes." She grinned. "What is it?"

"The — the supplements," he managed to get out. He took a deep breath. "In our diet. There were some — strange effects, being without them for a week."

Pi simply nodded. "What did you notice?"

"Increased sensation. Maybe a mild loss of focus." He fought the embarrassment that threatened to overtake him. "Um… stimulation. In my — core." He made a vague gesture to his groin.

"Yes." She regarded him calmly, without apparent judgment. "Males experience this, in particular, when they're off the chemical castration meds. Or perhaps it's that females simply find it less distracting."

"It wasn't distracting," he said. Her pale eyebrows went up, and he spoke quickly, trying to get the words out before he couldn't say them anymore. "We don't want to go back to the way it was. We just want it to be like this. Isn't there anything you can do, for me and Slip?"

He was aware he sounded like he was begging, but he wasn't sure he could convey the importance of it any other way. She just looked at him for a long moment.

"FN-2187," she said slowly. Now her brows were knitted. She sighed. "It'd put you at risk. All of us, really. If we were ever found out —"

"I know. I hate that idea. Believe me, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't — if it didn't mean something." He let his eyes do the pleading, and waited for her response. She sat for another few moments in silence.

"The effects can be… unpredictable. If you go off the chem-cas meds without modifying the others, the syntheroids can do things to your combat performance." She shrugged. "But we won't really know until we try it."

He let out the breath he'd been holding. "Try it? You mean you can do it?"

"I mean I can try," she stressed. "I can put it in your file that this was a medical necessity, this modification. I doubt anyone would question that. But I can't promise it won't negatively affect your performance in other ways. The commanders, the captain, they could notice."

He dropped the plastic cannula on the floor of the tent and seized her, hugging her hard. She made a little squeak of surprise before relaxing and hugging him back.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"Don't thank me yet," she whispered back. She gave him an extra-tight squeeze, then let him go. Her eyes still looked troubled. "This could go very, very wrong."

"I don't see how it could be any worse than being knocked off a cliff by a giant bird," he said.

Pi started to laugh. "Okay… I'll grant you that. Just — come back and see me when Slip does. We can talk about it at home, after you've had a few days to adjust. In the meantime…" She went to the stack of storage along one wall and started rummaging, muttering to herself, then made a satisfied noise. Then she turned and handed him a flat package. "There. Take those."

He examined the print on the packages of of unidentified fluid.

"Lubricant?" he asked uncertainly.

"Trust me," she said, and rested a hand on his arm with a knowing look. "You're going to want it."

FN-2187 was so surprised that Pi had said yes that he hadn't had time to think about what he should do next. He reconvened with his fire-troop and made a reasonable stab at conversation with Nines and Zeroes as they boarded the shuttle back to base, but he could tell they were aware that something was not quite normal between the four of them yet. They didn't even tease Slip about his new nickname.

"I'm off duty until my foot heals," said Slip, grimacing, "It's going to be a dull couple weeks."

"I bet it's nothing like being on the ground, huh?" Nines nudged Slip. "Is it weird to be inside again after all that time in the wild?"

He shrugged, looking at his hands. "I'd say it's too quiet, but… actually, the onboard engines sound a lot louder than the wind and the rain did."

"Well, that mission was more than enough time for me," said Zeroes, shuddering. "Didn't feel natural."

FN-2187 wasn't sure he was in a position to say what did or didn't feel natural anymore. Even the food made him wonder. What if Pi's order in the system was too late and they'd already received their original doses of supplements? That chem-cas drug, would it start influencing them right away?

What's good for me is what's good for the First Order, he told himself, and choked down the ration they'd given him for thirdmeal. It was one of the phrases they'd heard since childhood, during the twice-daily morale sessions that were part of their standard training. It wasn't as though he didn't believe it.

And yet. He gazed across the shuttle cabin at Slip, buckled into his seat, and caught him looking back. Slip gave him a brief smile, a shadow of the hopeful expression that was so clear in FN-2187's memory, before averting his eyes. FN-2187 felt a hot pulse of anger, with doubt right on its heels.

This isn't helping any of us, he thought. What if what's good for me — good for us — isn't what the First Order dictates?

When they got back to base and began unloading cargo from the shuttle, FN-2187 kept an eye out for an opportunity. As soon as he and Nines were alone, he took it.

"I need to ask you a favor," he said in an undertone.

Nines looked at him sharply. "What's going on?"

"I can't explain. Not right now. Just… tonight, you're first on duty. When the watch checks in, can you say we're present, me and Slip? We'll leave our helmets here so the auto tally will count us, but I don't want them coming inside to confirm and finding us short two."

If he'd asked Zeros, there would have been an argument, but Nines wasn't like that. His ginger brows drew down and he chewed on his lip.

"I can give you something," FN-2187 added.

Nines huffed a denial. "Forget it. Yeah, of course I'll cover for you. Just tell me… you're not — I mean this isn't…" He dropped to a whisper. "Illegal?"

"No, nothing like that. I just don't think I'm ready to sleep in a room full of people yet. Not even you guys."

It was close enough to the truth that he didn't feel completely awful about lying to Nines, who shrugged.

"I guess Zeroes is the worst snorer," he said, and ventured a smile. FN-2187 smiled back, relaxing a fraction. "You think you might explain it to us eventually?"

"I'll try," said FN-2187. He wasn't sure how much sense it would make. Like a Keshian trying to tell humans what ultraviolet looks like, there just wasn't enough context for Nines or Zeroes to comprehend what he and Slip had discovered. But he wanted to. He wanted them to understand.

Slip had been right about the ambient noise of the engines being loud, but it was still comforting to be back at the base. They'd lived there for most of the years after their academy training. It was as close to what the stories on the holovids called home as any other place he'd ever lived. Just as his fire-troop was as close to family as he'd ever had.

He swallowed. And now, there's Slip. There was no question what Slip was to him.

FN-2187 waited until Zeroes was in the sonic and Nines was setting up for first shift on watch. Slip startled when he moved in close, glancing around nervously.

"What if someone sees?" Slip whispered. But he accepted FN-2187's hands around his waist, cradling his back.

"I have something to tell you," FN-2187 murmured. "Come with me after lights out. Nines will cover for us."

Slip looked stunned, but FN-2187 could see a flicker of the wild hope return to his face. He trusts me, FN-2187 thought, and felt his heart swell in his chest, large enough to encompass both of them. I can't fail him.

"Where?" Slip asked.

He took a deep breath. "That, I'm not sure about. But I have an idea."

Lights out came and went. FN-2187 waited for a sufficient length of time in the silence, then stood, padding across the room in his bare feet with his bedroll tucked underneath his arm. Slip was already right behind him, no questions asked, moving silently. FN-2187 fought the urge to take his hand.

They walked past Nines, sitting in the chair by the door, reading on his datapad. He glanced up at them, nodded once, then went back to his reading. He didn't say anything at all.

FN-2187 led Slip through the dim corridor in a path familiar only to him, past myriad unlabeled doors, until they reached an access panel. He keyed in a six-digit code and, when the panel slid open, ushered Slip in ahead of him, then followed him in.

The room was small, smelling of cleaning supplies. The shelves were stocked from floor to ceiling with boxes, labeled for use by the sanitation crew. FN-2187 knew the third shift crew didn't use this supply closet. They wouldn't be bothered here for the rest of the night.

There was enough light from the wall panel controls to allow him to see Slip's expression. There was fear, but also relief, and something like awe. Slip moved into FN-2187's arms and rested his fingers on his face.

"Baby," he said, and smiled.

Two bedrolls on the smooth industrial floor made a pad almost as soft as the mattresses in their barracks — and infinitely more comfortable than mossy rocks in a planetside cavern. Even when they weren't wrapped up in one another, there was more than enough room for both of them on the floor of the supply closet.

"You asleep?" Slip whispered.

"Mmm." FN-2187 stirred, lifting his head from Slip's bare chest and gazed at him. "Not really."

"You're going to be exhausted if you don't get some rest."

"I'm having a hard time caring about that." He stroked the contour of Slip's slender shoulder and sighed. "This feels more important than rest."

"We can't do it every night," said Slip. "You can bet Zeroes isn't going to cover for us. But when Nines is on duty, we could do it sometimes."

"Without the chem-cas meds, we're going to want it. Need it, I guess. And other things are going to change. We just don't know how, yet. Pi said she will monitor us and we'll figure it out."

"Why do you think she's helping us? Seems like a big risk. Nines, I can understand; he's on our fire-team."

FN-2187 thought about the expression on Pi's face when she'd spoken about Tonic. "I think maybe she and her fire-teammate FN-1358 are… close. Like this, with each other." He shrugged. "I'm just guessing. Don't tell anybody I said that. I don't want to get them in more trouble."

"We might," said Slip. "Have trouble."

FN-2187 nodded. "We might. It's going to be complicated, hiding this from command. From everybody." As he shook his head, his cheek brushed against Slip's chest. Both were now smooth from the standard depilatory that was part of their hygiene regimen. Even that felt strange. "The worst part is not being able to touch you when you're wearing the body armor."

"I actually think the worst part is not seeing your face. I can't tell how you feel with your helmet on. I guess it didn't matter before, not seeing your eyes, your mouth, but now…" Slip's hand came to rest on his back, pulling him closer. "I didn't realize how important those things are."

When FN-2187 shivered, it wasn't from cold, but Slip reached across the floor to get his bodysuit anyway. FN-2187 heard the crunch as Slip's fingers met the object in his pocket.

"What's this?"

"Oh…" He felt his heart accelerate as Slip pulled out Pi's lubricant packet. "I'm… not really sure yet. Pi said we would want it."

"Why would we…?" Slip's words trailed off, and he sat there holding the packet between his two fingers, his jaw slack. His eyes did not meet FN-2187's, but flickered back and forth between the wall and the item he was holding.

"I can think of a few things?" FN-2187 said, trying to keep his voice steady. "But I'm not sure what you would think of them."

Slip came back to sit on the bedroll, edging as close as he could get to FN-2187 without actually sitting on top of him. He wasn't the only one who was trembling.

"I guess if she gave this to you, we're not the only ones who've ever considered it. But… I can think of a few things, too."

FN-2187 felt his smile competing with his blush for space on his cheeks. "Uh… yeah?"

Slip nodded. "Since I did that thing with my tongue and my fingers, and you — well, you liked it, I think."

He could only nod back. Slip's contemplative expression made him feel a little faint.

"I think…" Slip took his hand, holding it between both of his. "I think we should sleep. And save this for another night. I want to be able to give it my full attention."

"Yeah. That's fine." He nodded again. "Of course."

FN-2187 wasn't sure he was ever going to sleep after the ideas that conversation had inspired, but Slip's arms around him gave him a sense of calm. He rested his head on Slip's bicep, closing his eyes, and allowed himself to feel… hope.