Late October, 2018

When Ben stepped out of his apartment at 6:30am and began his now-daily trek to The Falcon, it was Holdo's months-old words that kept him company in the fog-induced isolation of the early October morning.

"There are people in your life who won't expect you to barter for affection."

At first that had meant Leia. His mother who had made so many mistakes, but was making every effort to reconnect with her estranged child. And then it had meant Han. His father, whose wounds had healed, but a scar across his forehead remained; a monument to Han's silent but fierce affection for his prodigal son. Han had insisted he start working at the run down coffee shop. Soon it meant Poe, and later, (after he had learnt to tolerate him) it meant Finn as well.

The concept of having friends, or at least friendly people whose only expectations involved a day's work, and a smile (he was working on that), was still foreign to him.

And then there was Rey. He wasn't sure what to think about her. She was kind to him, yes, (despite how terrible and awkward he was to her), but she also seemed… nervous around him. The way she couldn't quite meet his eyes when they were in close proximity, the way his stomach jumped when she laughed at his dry humour. It was…confusing. All signs suggested that Rey had a crush, but somehow he couldn't wrap his head around being the recipient when the giver was, well, her.

He was so deep in thought that he didn't at first notice the figure leaning up against The Falcon's heavy wooden door. She was wrapped in such a large scarf that it obscured her figure, however her tell-tale messy brown bun peaked out from the plaid cloth, giving her away.

And then there was Rey.

She spotted him, and took to attempting to untangle herself from her plaid cocoon.

"Oh hey, Ben!

"Uh, morning, Rey." He mumbled, fumbling for his keys.

"Are Poe and Finn sick? Usually they're here already."

Shit, he totally forgot.

"Poe didn't tell you? He and Finn are up north for his family's thanksgiving. I'm just here to do maintenance and bake halloween stuff."

Rey blinked.

"Wasn't thanksgiving like three weeks ago? Why's Poe's family do it now?"

"Well, half of Poe's family lives in the States and the other lives here. They compromise by celebrating half-way between Canadian and American thanksgiving."

"That's… why wouldn't they just celebrate thanksgiving twice?"

"Poe's family's pretty intense, I don't think he could deal with back-to-back thanksgivings. According to him, if he has to endure another anecdote about how millennials are killing off the breakfast cereal industry, he'll, and I quote, 'show them what a real cereal killer looks like.'"

"Hilarious."

"He thought so."

Both of them stood awkwardly in the entrance way.

"Well, I guess I'll get going. I think there's a Starbucks down the road that's open this early. I'll just go there." She shifted uncomfortably.

"Okay, yeah."

"Alright. See you, Ben. Have a good day."

"See you."

She turned away and began walking down the street. Something about her plaid-wrapped figure moving away from him made his stomach twist.

"Hey, wait."

She turned around, confused. He felt his face flush for no apparent reason.

"I mean, yeah, the shop's closed, but, uh, you can come in and study. If you want."

"If you're okay with it?"

He shrugged, taking in her bundled-up appearance. "It'll be less noisy than Starbucks." Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes bright in the cold morning air. He was glad when his warm breath obscured his wandering gaze.

"Um, okay." She shifted her books uncomfortably. "If you're sure? I don't want to get in your way. After all, I am basically a stranger to you."

Ben considered this. She was right, they really didn't know each other. And the times when they had interacted had generally ended in an exchange of barbs, an uncomfortable tightness in his heart (read: pants), or both. But he'd be damned if he didn't enjoy her sharp tongue.

"Poe and Finn seem to like you, so I think I can trust their judgement that you're not going to rob the place blind. And it's the least I can do after you fixed the espresso machine."

She smirked up at him, tugging at a stray lock that had come loose from her bun.

"Well, I'm glad you haven't pegged me as a thief. And don't worry about the espresso machine; it wasn't any trouble, really. I would have done it for any poor barista with burnt fingers."

Kindness is not a commodity, Ben.

"Yeah, but still, thanks."

She paused for a moment, deliberating and then smiled up at him. He felt his stomach twist again.

"You're welcome." She bit her lip. "Alright, I'll stay. But you've got to promise that you won't kick me out when I start talking to myself. I swear, it's part of the creative process of writing super boring essays."

He considered her, taking in again her flushed cheeks and red tipped nose. Her lips were plump and chapped from the October wind and where she had bitten them. He swallowed.

"I'll make you a deal. I'll put up with any weird rambling if you forgive me for being a complete asshole to you when we first met."

She narrowed her eyes, a serious expression on her face as she considered him.

"Hmm. You strike a hard bargain, but I think I can work with that." She dramatically tugged off a woollen glove and stuck out a small hand. Her finger nails were painted a chipped "Consider yourself forgiven, Mr. Ben."

He grasped her hand in his, marvelling how it was enveloped in his larger one. It was warm from her glove.

"Thanks. And it's Ben Solo. Mr. Ben sounds like I make rice or something."

"Alright, Mr. Solo. It it's Uncle Ben's. I should know, I basically live off the stuff. I used to eat that shit for every meal."

"Well," he smiled awkwardly as he yanked open The Falcon's door. "After you. And feel free to help yourself to some of the leftover scones. I can't imagine rice is a particularly appetizing breakfast."

"Alright. As long as there's no walnuts."

Ben raised his hands in mock surrender. "I can assure you that all pastries have been since scoured for any offending nuts."

"Very considerate of you."

"Well, I couldn't have another body on my hands. I don't know how I'd explain that to the authorities."

"I suppose that's rational. Wait, another body?"

He simply raised his eyebrows and held the door open for her. She ducked under his arm, just short enough to clear him, and turned around to glare playfully at him. "That's not encouraging, Ben."

"You'll be fine, I'd never hurt you. Someone else, maybe. But you? Not satisfying."

"A little dark, a little troubling, but I'll take it."

They sat in comfortable silence as Ben tinkered with several of the cafe's rusty stools and Rey munched on several day-old muffins. Eventually Ben began to slowly bring out the ingredients necessary for orange sugar cookies. As he began to roll out the dough, Rey found herself watching the way his arms flexed in time with the rolling pin. He had rolled up his sleeves leaving his forearms bare, what could she say?

She shook her head.

"Hey, Ben." Ben looked up, orange dough on his nose. She almost laughed but quickly stopped herself. "I forgot to thank you. For the scone."

He kept rolling the dough, orange nose and shapely forearms. "Uh, it wasn't any problem. I figured I'd make it up for nearly killing you."

"Hmm they're my favourite, you know. Blueberry lemon. How did you figure that one out?"

"I dunno. You just looked like a blueberry lemon kind of girl."

She laughed, setting down her highlighter. "And what does a blueberry lemon kind of girl look like?"

He straightened up and rubbed the back of his neck. Rey thought his cheeks seemed darker. "I dunno? Sweet? With a little bit of tart?"

"Am I so sour?" She fake pouted.

Ben raised an eyebrow. "Of course not. Blueberry lemon scones are the perfect balance of sweet and sour flavours.

She laughed. "That's the most creative compliment I've received in ages. I'll have to keep you around, barista Ben."

He smiled back at her, mirroring her enthusiasm, the orange dough lying forgotten.

"Well it's true. You can't choose flavours that are too bitter, because then people won't even try the dish. But you can't have too much sweetness either."

"Why's that? People like sweetness."

"Yeah, but the best combinations involve a give and take. Too much of one and people get bored." His gaze was intense. Rey flushed, looking back down at her work.

Were they still talking about pastries?

There was silence for a few minutes as Ben used a pumpkin cookie cutter to shape his sugar cookies.

"Where did you learn to bake?"

He shrugged. "I liked watching baking shows as a kid. I guess I picked up the skill? My Uncle was also a pretty good cook, so I'd watch him when he was in town. He wasn't much help though. Didn't like recipes cause they were too restrictive or something, I dunno."

"Sounds like an odd guy."

"You don't even know the half of it. Uncle Luke was super into new age religions. He tried to teach me to meditate."

"I can't see that going well."

"You'd be right. He did teach me to make a good strudel, though. He learned it while staying in some bavarian monastery. Don't ask me for details, I really don't know."

"Ooh I bet the story was worth it though. I love strudel."

"I'll make it for you sometime, if you like?"

"That would be super cool, thanks Ben."

It was around noon when Rey, yawning widely, decided to call it (an early) day.

"I think I'm going to head out, Ben. I getting a headache, and I don't think I can format another citation without screaming."

"I'd better go too. I can't bake these yet 'cause I have to refrigerate the dough for 24 hours anyways."

"Damn, baking is so complex."

"I'm a complex kind of guy, I guess."

"Very emo, I like it."

"I'm glad." He held the door open for her. "Here."

"Aren't you leaving too?"

"I gotta set the alarm."

"Right."

She went to move past him, and she was again struck again by how tall he was. And how large his hands were, splayed against the wood of the door. She thought he could probably fit both hands around her waist. Well no, obviously that would never work, but god, she felt so small next to him. He could probably pick her up no problem. Which could be useful, you know, for reasons.

"I'll, uh, see you soon?"

She smiled. "Yeah, see you, Ben. Thanks again for letting me study… and for keeping me company."

"Don't worry about it."

There was a pause. Rey watched him as he set the shop's alarm, a small crooked smile on his long face. Again, she was struck by how…pleasant… he looked. "You have a really nice smile, Ben. I didn't notice until now." Liar, she had noticed like three weeks ago.

"Really? Why now?"

"Well, you stopped scowling for one."

"I apologized!"

"You did. And look how much better you are for it."

"Fair enough."

There was another pause in which both Ben and Rey stood awkwardly next to each other, neither making eye contact.

Rey spoke first, pink highlighting her cheeks. "Well, I gotta head out. This paper won't print itself."

"Yeah. See you."

"Bye, Ben."

October 31, 2018

She jammed her planner back in her bag, barely holding back the angry tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks.

She had been fighting this for years, and it seemed like all her hard effort for nothing.

She had never been ashamed of who she was. Being an orphan had been hard, but she told herself she was stronger for it. But now, with the prospect of her funding being pulled, and the threat of deportation on legal grounds growing more and more likely, Rey wished for the umpteenth time that she had been born into at least a little bit of privilege.

She had been forced to work since she was a child at the mechanic shop owned by her foster father, Amos Plutt. One day, a week after her eighteenth birthday, he had caught her stealing equipment to fix up the old beat-up moped she had bought with her meagre earnings as his assistant. His rage had been terrible; Rey still had a scar over her right knee to prove it. He had threatened to throw Rey out on the street; it was his right after all, she was eighteen and he was no longer receiving funding from the government. Rey had begged and begged; she didn't have anywhere else to go. No one wanted to take in an undereducated orphan, whose only talents included nimble fingers and a passing knowledge of mechanics. Plutt had relented, reluctantly, on the grounds that Rey pay back the value of each and every part she had stolen. He had presented her with a contract, and in her relief that she wasn't about to be thrown out on the street, Rey had signed it without a second thought.

It was only when Rey brought up the idea of her going to college that Plutt disclosed the true nature of the document. Her employment and lodging were, as she knew, contingent on her paying back what she owed. What she hadn't realized was the amount Plutt claimed Rey owed him. It was impossible; she couldn't pay him back if she worked for fifty years, which, Rey now figured, was what Plutt had intended when he drew up the document.

So, desperate for freedom from Plutt, Rey had applied to several colleges in secret, using her legal name, Kira, as a decoy. She hadn't expected to be accepted oversees; the thought of leaving behind everything she knew was terrifying, at first. But the email had come, and with it, hope. So, saddled with a full scholarship, Rey fled from England and from Plutt.

She brushed back a stray hair from her wet eyes.

This advising appointment was supposed to set everything right, but as it turned out, Plutt hadn't forgotten about her in the three years that had past, and sent a legal notice to her advisor at Coruscant. It was simple: he was suing her for breach of contract, and for the full damages her abrupt departure had cost his company. She would be broke, shipped back to England, with only three-fourths of a degree. That is, if she lost the legal battle that was growing imminent.

Rey chocked out a tired sob. She didn't have time for this. She had papers to write and upcoming final exams to study for; she shouldn't be involved in a legal battle over some document she had naively signed five years ago.

She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she walked smack into someone exiting a nearby office. Her planner and the papers in it went flying.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry…Oh, uh, hey Ben!"

And indeed, the messy dark locks that hung over the face of the man she had just knocked over belonged to none other than her favourite grumpy barista.

"Oh hey, Rey. Sorry for that. Your things are everywhere. Here." He bent down to help her retrieve her belongings. "Uh…"

"Oh thanks. And don't apologize, I should have been watching were I was walking." She paused, it just now clicking that Ben was here on campus, for the second time this month. "Are you a student here? I thought you were graduated?"

"Uh, I am. Yeah. I was just visiting a, uh, friend. She…works here."

"Oh." Her eyebrows were raised high on her forehead. "That's cool."

"Yeah." It was then that she saw Ben notice her flushed face and unshed tears.

"Uh, are you okay?"

She bent to pick up her fallen planner. "I'm fine."

He raised his eyebrows to mirror where hers had been.

"Alright, I'm not. I'm just that I'm having some problems with funding. It's not a big deal, though."

"It seems like it is a big deal if you're upset about it."

"That's kind of you, but can we not talk about this? I don't want to start crying for real."

Ben scratched at the back of his head, as he handed Rey the last of her scattered papers.

"Sure yeah, hey, uh. I totally forgot to ask you. I don't know if this will make you feel any better, but… Poe and Finn and I are going out to Cantina's tonight. They were talking about asking you, but you haven't been by the Falcon in the last couple days, and neither of them have your cell."

"A club? With you guys?" Somehow she couldn't imagine Ben anywhere as, uh, vital as a club.

"Yeah! I mean, it's kinda tradition that they go out on Halloween, so I'm being dragged along. I'd rather just stay home, but Poe goes on about how I need to be a team player, so…"

She thought about it. She should really be working on her next project, after all it was due next week. But she also loved Halloween; Plutt never let her celebrate as a kid, so she had taken it upon herself to making up for it each year of her university career. And she no longer had any plans: she and Rose had been planning on watching horror movies and gorging themselves on chocolate, but Rose had had to reluctantly cancel as she had been called into work that evening. Hmm. This could be fun. And Ben was right, seeing Poe and Finn dance would probably lift her spirits, regardless of if she decided to join in.

"Alright, then. I'll go."

Ben looked a bit surprise, but quickly schooled his features.

"Okay, cool! Uh, meet at the Falcon at closing? Oh and Rey? You have to wear a costume," he winced, "Poe insists."

A/N: Oooooh! Clubbing on Halloween! I wonder what could possibly happen?

So, I haven't fully decided on which costumes the gang will be wearing, so I'm opening it up to suggestions! Leave a review, or hit me up on tumblr with your thoughts on what Ben, Rey, Poe, Finn (and potentially Rose) should wear. Bonus points for nerdy ideas.

Also, check out this awesome edit Anna made for Bitter, Bitter! This honestly made my day. /nuwtwsumd22bdr

Thanks for reading! Leave a comment and tell me what you thought!

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