Summary: Rey deals with her rather challenging work situation, and hopes that the light at the end of the tunnel isn't an oncoming train. Luke considers the past (especially the parts with Ben/Kylo), wonders about the future, and has a serious talk with Finn.

Author's Note: Aaack, sorry for the long time between updates! School and the need to tread lightly (very lightly) in this and the next chapter (for reasons, which you will see soon) made for a bit of a delay...And given what happened with 'Guest Accommodations' - that 7k words chapter ffff - I capped this one at around 4k. The rest of the *Rey's Weekend* plot arc will be in the next chapter ;)

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It got bad. More accurately it started out bad and slid into worse without much ado at all. Weekends became something that happened to other people. Rey was increasingly reminded of her third year of college…except besides the late nights, homework, deadline panic, and caffeine toxicity, she couldn't do it curled up in bed in her pajamas, noise-cancelling headphones on, crunching numbers while dorm life buzzed around her. Nope. No, she was in and out of meetings all day, every day, in 'business casual' clothes and uncomfortable heels, trying to wring data out of the techsand train Lily.

Poor Lily, Rey thought. The younger woman had only been there for a few months before she got thrown into the professional equivalent of a meat grinder. At least I had time to get to know everyone.

Seeing Kylo's smug grin every damn day was just the spitball on top of the vomit sundae.

Rey tasked Lily with a fair amount of the more repetitive data analysis, and sent her around on fact-finding missions, that just happened to coincide with the nastier Kylo meetings. Both she and Max figured that the 22-year old didn't need to deal with an exec with an axe to grind on top of everything else. Kylo's reputation preceded him.

It's what I would have done anyway, she thought. Get her out there, talking to people, balance it out with a solo task… Rey winced internally.

Face it, you're worried, she thought. Lily, while smart as hell, was extremely shy, and about as insecure as a new college grad could be. It had taken a lot to get her top open up. And the last thing that she wanted was for their new boss to tear the junior engineer down out of spite.

So she made sure to include the First Order's Finance team on Lily's list of contacts.

Sending Lily to talk to Hux might have seemed like putting her in the line of fire, but Rey knew Kylo. She honestly couldn't remember the number of times he'd come home fuming at what he considered Hux's latest attempt to undermine his authority…all of which sounded to Rey, once she dug through the rage shrouding the event, like reasonable (if possibly snarky) counter arguments. Of course, she knew that in the business world, it wasn't always about what you said, but how you said it.

Doesn't mean he's wrong, she thought.

Furthermore, Kylo had made his contempt for everyone working under Hux painfully clear, to the point that he barely bothered to learn any of their names, so even if Lily's name and work were mentioned at some point by the Finance crew, Kylo would be vastly unlikely to register the implications. It was also unlikely that he'd spot her in that corner of the building; for someone who loathed Armitage Hux as much as Kylo, Rey had noticed that her ex went out of his way to avoid him.

Rey wondered if it was fear.

Even better, Lily keeping Hux in the loop helped give an alternate perspective on what Kylo was telling management. The Finance lead was all about numbers, deliverables, budgets, and, better, results. Lily spoke his language – or at least the 'numbers', part, and Hux was one of those men who was more easily swayed by hard data, rather than spin.

The numbers would show exactly what they had to work with. Even if the team failed spectacularly, the money people would know the real reasons why.

Rey's plan began to bear fruit in the third week of the 'personnel redistribution.' Kylo began spending more time coordinating with Finance and his usual wheelhouse, Acquisitions, than breathing down her neck. The near-constant meetings slid into a couple of daily, fast, status updates and telecons. The shouting matches – thankfully remaining behind closed doors – between Hux and Kylo escalated, but it seemed that Hux considered it an expected (if tiresome) part of dealing with Kylo. Lily even developed a rather good working relationship with Hux's secretary, Dopheld Mitaka, a rather tense individual who really - really - appreciated her punctuality and the heaps of advance warning about the latest program time crunch that passed to him, so that he could prioritize Hux's meetings. Not to mention her 'Kylo sightings', so that he could gird his proverbial loins.

But even without Kylo on their collective asses, it was all that they could do to keep their heads above water. Rey stumbled into a routine that kept her going, though it didn't leave room for much else. She'd wake up at 5, get to work at 6:30, plan the day out with Max and Lily until 8, and then hit the data, avoiding Kylo as much as possible until the 5pm status update. Everything after 6 was just up to fate.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

And in the meantime, Rey's poker face was getting amazing.

######

The good days ended before eight at night. A pattern developed where she'd usually get two of those a week, by what she could only assume was divine intervention. She'd drop off her computer bag in her apartment, grab some leftovers out of the fridge (she tended to do the weeks cooking ahead of time, and just reheat everything), head across the hall, and all but fall onto Luke's couch, the rant that had been building up inside her all day collapsing under the weight of her fatigue. It would seem a small, fragile thing, then, and sink away into the soft cushions and warm lamplight, and the sharp crackle of something frying on the stove…That half the time wound up burnt beyond recognition, because Luke was curled up with her instead of watching the pan.

They talked, certainly, though Rey could never recall the exact details the next morning – just that Luke's book was going well, that his side had healed enough to pull her legs across his lap and tuck her against his shoulder, and that she felt better after five minutes on the couch than after thirty minutes of ranting in the office break room.

It was like waking up after days of sleepwalking.

Rey woke up in other ways, as well. Resting against his shoulder, or halfway across his lap, it was entirely too easy to slip her hand up to his shoulder, sharply aware of every crease and run in the old flannel, just playing with the fabric, soft and warm under her fingers. And to slowly slide her palm around him to press between his shoulder blades, and allow herself to feel the shifting muscle and bone, warm and solid through the worn cloth.

Luke seemed intent on distracting her, too. Between his voice and the firm hand resting on her thigh, sometimes a comforting weight, grounding her with a quick squeeze that made her forget her scratchy work trousers and aching feet, other times tracing slow circles into her skin, driving the remains of her day out of her head, focusing on anything else was almost impossible. Until he remembered what he was doing, and moved it back to her knee.

That was when Rey would get to her feet, pull him up with her, and attempt to salvage dinner, usually a combination of the leftovers she'd brought, and 'some kind of meat' from Luke's fridge.

As reluctant as she was to leave, Rey did not want to subject Luke to her 5 am wakeup time, and the ear-splitting alarm that came with it. Especially after it slid to 4 when the quarterly progress report came due. So she'd say goodnight when it passed 10. Usually. Unless she found some excuse to linger a bit, such as finding a sheath of Luke's notes stuffed between the couch cushions. Then she'd notice that a page was missing, which of course they had to find, and would look everywhere except his bedroom. Then it was back to her place, her air mattress, and oblivion.

Those were the only nights she could manage a proper sleep. The rest of the time, she woke long before her alarm, lines and numbers marching fretfully through her head, clicking into place, or not. Strategies for the day's match formed in the gray dawn light, which came later each day as the Fall slid into November.

######

She got the weekend off (thanks, she suspected, to Hux) four weeks into 'The Gauntlet', as Lily had dubbed it – a nickname that was spreading across the department, thanks to Dopheld.

"He's an admin. It's his job to deliver bad news," said Rey, unable to keep the smile off of her face. It was Friday, and nothing was going to keep her here after 6. She had plans. "And to talk to other admins. Of course it was going to get around." Lily grinned back, her mind already out the window.

"The Order guys think it's funny," she said cheerily. "And kinda ominous. I think most of them are kinda impressed, actually."

"Really?"

"Yeah. That we're still here."

Rey smirked.

"Good," she said. I love it when people underestimate me… "But still…" She sighed, and reached for her half-empty mug of cold coffee. "This pace…It's not sustainable. I mean, a sprint to the finish is one thing, but you can't run a marathon that way. And the three of us just can't keep this up indefinitely. Imagine doing this for a year. Or more."

Lily fell silent.

"I know what you mean," she said quietly. "I keep missing my Mom's calls…and I've maybe seen James twice in the last month."

"But you're going to see him tonight, right?" Rey asked, smiling slightly. Lily had been dating James since her senior year of college. He lived in a high-rise downtown, and was – according to Lily's gushing description – staggeringly handsome, intelligent, and winning at life after college.

"Yes, thank God," sighed Lily. "I've been practically sleeping here. We haven't – " Lily flushed. "We haven't seen each other in so long."

Somehow Rey kept a straight face.

"Well, you'll have some time, then," she said seriously. "I, for one, am going to lock this in my desk. No leash for the next two days." Rey held up her company phone, her face twisting with disgust. Lily grinned.

"I am so, so glad that they haven't given me one of those…But what are your plans for the weekend? Are you going to see Finn?"

"Yeah," said Rey. Among other things… "And I have to get out of here by, oh, 6 at the latest? I'm getting stuff delivered." She had to get to sleep early too, if she was going to be well-rested for Saturday.

Rey had made some hurried plans with Finn on Thursday to make one last trek to Niima Cove before the bay iced over. And Luke was very definitely invited...

"Finally moving in for real, huh?" Lily asked, dragging her back to the present.

Rey nodded. She'd raided Amazon during her lunch hour on Monday, and ordered an actual bed; her attempts at bulking up her air mattress with pillows were simply not working. And her neck did not appreciate it.

As for her other options…

It's too soon, she thought, with a pang. Way too soon.

######

Rey went straight from her last meeting to her car, and made it back to her apartment in record time. She actually wound up with an extra half-hour to clean a bit before the furniture arrived. 'Never put a rug on a dirty floor' – something her mother used to say, whenever they had to pack up and move.

She'd ordered a couple of those, too, and some curtains. The walls were thick – steel and cement – but the years had worn cracks in the wooden floors and roof. The coal-fired boiler room was rather poorly insulated (according to Poe, who had snuck in for a quick look), so a lot of heat was lost before the hot water even made it to the rest of the building.

Consequently, Rey's apartment was plagued by nearly constant drafts. It was only going to get worse, too – Winter was fast approaching. It was barely November, and she was already wearing socks to bed. Carpets, curtains, and wall hangings (like the ones in Luke's place) would help keep the heat in.

Like a castle, she thought with a smile, wringing out her mop. All those tapestries in the history books weren't just for decoration. Of course, having an actual bed with actual blankets wouldn't hurt.

Rey stayed out of the way when the movers showed up, other than a couple of quick instructions. It wasn't much. The couch went perpendicular to the far wall, the squishy leather armchair close by. She sank down into the chair with a happy sigh, curling her toes on the thick, braided rug as they dragged her bed and mattress up the stairs. She turned slightly, and took in the unobstructed, soaring view out of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Quite a change, she thought, zipping up her hoodie and tucking her legs up to her chest. She'd cracked a window open, so the air had that light, crackling, chill that heralded the last days of Fall. The light had changed too, from those first golden, sweltering days. It had gone soft and white, a muted twilight, and a gray sky that filled the space, promising snow. Even now, the wind stirred outside the walls, testing the glass panes.

A few more weeks, and we won't be able to run outside, she thought, a warm lump forming in her throat. Maybe even a few days…

"All right ma'am?" One of the movers called down, startling her out of her reverie.

"Be right up…"

Rey took a quick look upstairs – just a check to make sure everything was where it should be.

Perfect.

She tipped them, unpacked some of her other purchases, and made herself at home.

######

The supermarket was packed with people. It seemed to Luke that half the city was stocking up for Thanksgiving early. Then again, he usually went to the small market on the edge of the Industrial District, so maybe the chaos was normal.

Either that, Luke thought as he elbowed his way through the aisles, smiling at the skirmish over at 15-pound turkey by the poultry counter. Or there are a lot of birthdays. Or anniversaries. Or spontaneous family reunions. Or…

He paused in the middle of considering why someone might need to purchase large amounts of food.

Then again, he thought, as a twenty-or-thirty-something woman gave her son very specific instructions for the critical mission of finding a can of peas in aisle 6. More people live out here. Safer for the kids.

He remembered all too well just what Leia had said when he'd first moved out to the Industrial District; She'd expressly forbidden Ben from going to visit him on his own.

No walking around in that place, she'd said. She had a point, and Luke had backed her up. A lone ten-year-old walking around the bad side of town was almost certainly going to encounter trouble. Leia took issue with Ben walking around with him, too – A 5'9'', lightly built man was only slightly less likely to run into the same problem.

Ben, of course, had pushed his parents' rules to the limit whenever he possibly could. Even now, Luke still grinned at the memory of the day when his nephew had shown up at his building on a bicycle that he'd bought on the sly with his allowance.

Mom said no walking!

Leia had grounded Ben for the weekend, but she conceded the point. She let him ride everywhere, as long as Luke was with him if he went over 'the factory line,' and surprisingly Ben had honored her wishes. Luke considered it a mark of maturity; Ben recognized that the reasons for the rules were quite valid. And biking was comparatively safer, no matter where you were.

Still, Luke had expected to see much less of Ben after he received permission, but his nephew surprised him. They started meeting up on Saturdays. They'd usually bike around the city – permission or not, Luke made sure they usually stuck to the safer parts of town.

They'd talk about what Luke liked to think of as 'Ben' things, a ten-year-old's trials and tribulations, victories and joys. More than once, it occurred to him that the world of a ten-year-old had a lot of things in common with the world of an adult. The challenges and goals were different, but it was an arena in its own right. And the game could be brutal.

'This too, shall pass' made no sense to most children, especially one as impressionable as Ben. Everything hit his nephew hard. Scary pictures in children's books, ice-cream sundaes, scratchy mittens and old socks, the nightly news, late night True Crime stories…Ben saw, felt, and remembered it all. The occasional thoughtless word or look from his peers – or, worse, his parents – cut deep, even if they weren't about him, not really.

Telling Ben to keep things in perspective did not have much of an impact – from his nephew's point of view, life beyond age 11 was too mysterious, too alien, to even consider, much less plan for.

Sometimes Luke wondered if the reason that Ben liked Ahch-To so much because his neighborhood was quiet.

So he made himself available. It was not terribly difficult, given his profession (at least when his deadlines were a long way off). It was on one of their weekly excursions that they found the small library half-hidden inside an old steel mill, and Ben confessed his desire to become a writer. He already had a pile of pages hidden in his closet.

Knowing Ben's personality, Luke was extremely happy that his nephew had found an artistic outlet. The sheer intensity of the words raised a few alarms, but the grammar was good, the structure had promise, and it was clear that Ben took it very, very seriously.

Luke had called Ben immediately when he found out that he'd given it up.

Why?

Stop it. You're ruminating. Thankfully his train of thought was interrupted by a surprised voice a few yards away.

"Luke?"

Finn stood on his toes and waved at him over the heads of a couple bickering over the fat percentage in the hamburger.

"Finn!" Luke grinned as Rey's friend elbowed his way through the crowd. "How are you?"

"Good, I'm good," said Finn. "Got out of work early," he said with a happy sigh, tugging on his stiff collar in an attempt to loosen his tie. "My boss may have grown a soul. Or, you know, bought one at a crossroads or something."

"Armitage Hux, right?" Luke asked, stepping to the side to let Finn get a look at the meat.

"Oh yes," he said. "How do you – Oh, right." Finn turned to Luke, the edge of his mouth quirking up. "He's been spending a lot of time in Rey's building, hasn't he?" Luke nodded.

"Yes – Sounds like he's riding everyone pretty hard."

"Understatement," Finn growled. "Rey's section – Well – If she's told you anything at all, you'll know that they're getting nailed. It's only really half him," Finn admitted. "The rest is Ren." He eyed Luke carefully. "But she's probably mentioned that, too."

"Repeatedly," Luke sighed. He glanced sideways at Finn, frowning. He knew that Rey had told Finn and Poe about Kylo's visit, but he wasn't sure if they were privy to all the details. Such as the fact that Kylo was his nephew. A pang shot through him as he realized that he'd never asked Rey how much she wanted to involve her friends in that particular part of the mess.

Not that they aren't already, he thought.

It was immediately clear that Finn had been thinking along the same lines.

"You know they used to date, right?"

"Yes," said Luke, unable to keep the edge out of his voice.

"So you know it got…bad."

Luke nodded. He gripped the basket tighter, on the edge of asking about the silence between Rey's words.

The moment broke when a frazzled man with a squalling toddler on his back elbowed his way between them and snatched up a four-pound package of hamburger.

"Look," Finn continued. "This is kind of a bad place to talk. Do you want to go get coffee, or something?"

"Yes," said Luke. Finn smiled hesitantly.

"Come on, then. I know a place…"

######

They ended up at a café that morphed into a sports bar after 7 at night. Finn directed them to a booth in the back, waving at the bartender, and ordered four cups of iced coffee and an enormous plate of nachos.

"Everything goes with coffee," he said, smiling at Luke's reaction to the odd pairing. "Keep that in mind when you make Rey breakfast."

Luke almost choked on a tortilla chip.

"What?" he gasped. Finn chuckled and passed him a glass of water.

"Just messing with you," he said. Then his eyes narrowed. "You are planning to make her breakfast, right?"

"I – Well – "

"I don't mean tomorrow," said Finn. "I'm just saying."

"Finn – "

"Luke," said Finn, holding up a hand. "I'm just saying. I've only seen her a couple times since she moved out, but from what I have seen…Well. Let's just say I can read her like a book. And I know that something's going on between you two."

Luke took a moment to gather his words. There were so many things that he could say. About her voice, her smile, the little tendrils of hair that were always falling out of her braid, framing her face with soft curls. And her eyes, so sharp even after days of early mornings and late nights, watching him, so close and warm.

"There is," he said quietly, looking Finn straight in the eye.

Finn looked back coolly, weighing his words.

"Good," he said finally. "I think the rest goes without saying…No, I will anyway." Finn leaned forward. "Rey is one of the two people I care about the most in this world. I will always have her back. Do not hurt her."

"Never," said Luke. Never.

The word hung thick and heavy between them. Then Finn shifted back into his seat, a small, careful smile on his lips.

"Ok," he said. "I'm changing the subject. Sort of. What happened when Kylo showed up?"

######

The rising tide of conversation insulated them from curious stares, and somehow made the words easier on Luke's tongue. It still came out in pieces, in choppy starts and stops as Finn jumped in to ask questions, and inform Luke (and the world at large), exactly what he thought about the whole thing.

"I think I've seen this movie," said Finn, when they'd finally reached the end.

"More like this soap opera," Luke replied, finishing off his second cup of coffee.

Finn had guessed most of it on his own – Such as Rey staying over at Luke's-– but the blood connection was quite a surprise.

"I was wondering why he knocked on your door in the first place. I thought that he was just going around the building, asking about her. Which, well…I wouldn't put it past him," Finn said, grimacing. "And why you didn't immediately call 911 – I mean, the whole thing was bad, but if a stranger tried that –"

"Yeah," said Luke, scowling. "I was seconds from calling anyway."

Finn sighed, rubbing his eyes wearily. "I mean…Hell, Luke, I don't have words for this."

"Neither do I. And I do that for a living."

Finn scowled, and picked at the remains of the demolished nachos.

"I read your book, you know," he said. "Rey actually bought it for me right after she moved in. Total coincidence," he said, grinning. "Good stuff. I swear that ending…" Finn shook his head. "Killer. And then there's Chapter 7..." Luke groaned.

"Oh God, Chapter 7…You have no idea how many times I've heard that."

"Hey, credit where credit is due," said Finn, smiling broadly.

"Thanks," said Luke. "You know…" He hesitated. So far, he'd only told Rey. "I'm working on a sequel. Please don't mention it to anyone. You know how the internet works these days."

"And you don't want the universe to know," said Finn. "Smart. Don't worry." Finn held out his hand. "Your secret is safe with me."

Luke shook his hand.

"I know."

"So," said Finn, releasing him. "Plans for the weekend?"

"Well…Rey said that she wants to go to the Cove in the morning. I know she got a couple days off, and it's going to be frozen over soon..."

"Well," said Finn. "It so happens that we're meeting there tomorrow, so do you want in? Just the beach," he said hurriedly. "It's not Winter yet, but thanks to your cliff adventure Poe and I aren't going anywhere near the rocks anytime soon. I want you to meet BB, too…I'm not sure if Rey's asked you yet. And it's date night tomorrow for me and Poe, so after that..."

"You know, she did mention something yesterday," said Luke, thinking back to earlier in the week. "She was a bit tired, though, so I was going to check with her when she got home."

"So…Yes?"

"Absolutely," said Luke. Finn's grin lit up the booth.

"We're leaving early…So now it's your job to make sure Rey gets up."

"No problem," said Luke.

The weekend was looking better by the minute.