The lightsaber spun on the polished stone floor. Dark and worn, its scars held stories of battles against evils, empires and other, more hidden, demons.

Its revolutions slowed gently, perfectly balanced on the black slab shot through with veins of gold; the Casino style, a language of luxury calculated to speak to races and species that spanned the galaxy. Finally the saber came to rest, pointing at the girl that sat cross legged before it. Rey raised an eyebrow and swayed slightly but was held upright by the voluminous mound of black mesh, silk skirts and trains piled around her. The muffled sound of a hit holo-soap leaked into the bedroom from the neighboring room of the dimly lit, spacious suite.

Finn, sat opposite, offered a dark blue bottle, the remains of an excellent Andoan White sloshing around inside, but she raised her chin and shooed it away.

Rey pulled the veil down from where she'd perched it on the top of her head until it covered her eyes again.

"Lando," she said.

"No way!" Finn exclaimed, "When?"

"Right before we left Ajan Kloss for the last time. Another search for a father figure gone wrong. I should give those up."

"You should. He is one charming dude though. I think I almost ended up there myself once or twice."

"He really is," Rey laughed, "He knows how to treat a lady, I'll say that much. No regrets."

"Good. Lando's the best. Ok, spin."

She repositioned the veil on the top of her head and reached forward, skirts and trains rusting, to spin the blackened lightsaber. This time when it stopped, it pointed towards Finn.

"How do I know you're not cheating?" he asked.

"Trust," she answered, a picture of innocence.

Finn considered his options a moment and groaned, reluctantly raising the bottle to take a gulp of the Andoan, sputtering and choking into his fist.

"Steady on," Rey tutted, and looked pointedly at him, "You've got a job to do, remember? Go on, spin."

He finished up coughing to spin again. This time, it came to rest pointing at the girl in black.

"Ok, ok," she inhaled and paused, mainly for dramatic effect rather than to precipitate a decision. "The Amazing Miss Bliss."

"Zorii! Man, Poe would be pissed," he chuckled, shaking his head. He'd always thought of Rey as inexperienced, somewhat chaste even, but she'd kept her liaisons well hidden.

"As she would whisper to me on those chill Krownest nights," she lowered her voice, soft and husky, "'Bliss isn't the name I was born with. I earned it.' And oh - my - god. She wasn't kidding. Phew." She fanned herself theatrically.

Finn pictured the scene in as much detail as it deserved, which took some time, and shook his head. "Video, or it never happened."

"Nice try," Rey scoffed.

"Worth a shot."

She spun the saber, and this time it stopped at Finn.

"Ok, ok," he said, resigned, "Don't judge."

"I never would."

"You would."

"You have such a low opinion of me," she said and reached over to take his hand and look into his eyes, "This is a safe space, FN. Just you and me. No judgments."

"I think she put something in my drink."

Rey's eyes widened in anticipation.

"Maz."

Rey exploded into shrieks of laughter, slapping her thigh as Finn held his hands up in exasperated resignation. Her laughter faded to a long, deep sigh as she wiped her eyes and raised them to his, "Me too, actually."

Finn nodded. "Thanks. I feel better for sharing."

"Yet another traumatic experience we have in common," Rey announced, slurring 'experience' a little. "She definitely puts something in the drinks."

Finn shivered. "My memories of that night are vague and disturbing."

"I remember a very rough tongue," Rey grimaced.

"I suspect she got Poe as well, but when I tried to pin him down, he went all white and silent."

"Poor Poe. Go on then, spin."

Finn reached out to the sabre and grasped it to give another spin. The glare of the bright yellow blade was sudden and blinding as it extended, piercing the cloud of black skirts just to the side of where Rey sat.

"Fuck!" Finn scrambled to turn it off quickly, mouth agape, unable to tear his eyes from the neat hole in the mound of fabric, "You ok?"

"That was close," Rey said mildly, observing the wisps of smoke rising from her skirts.

"You left the power cell in?" Finn gasped, appalled.

"I thought I took it out."

"Playing 'spin the lightsaber' drunk isn't a good idea."

"You almost snoked me."

"I could have snoked both of us," Finn said, "But I think I know why we're doing this."

"Why?"

"You're stalling."

"I'm not stalling. Why would I stall?"

"It was your idea!" Finn protested.

"You looked like you needed to stall. I was helping you out."

"I don't need to stall. I'm good with this. It's just sex."

"Right," she agreed, "We're adults. We can handle this. It's a transaction. I get help with my relationship problem. And you get..." she stopped there.

"And I get..." he prompted.

"The satisfaction of helping a friend out."

"Right, right, that."

Rey's gaze was drawn off to one side. "Yeah, yeah. Keep it in your trousers."

She turned back to Finn. "Ben's losing it. He just about kept his shit together while we binged 'Clone Clowns of Coruscant', but spin-the-lightsaber broke him."

"'Clone Clowns' is the best though."

"Right. His loss," Rey nodded, "but Ben likes his holos more angsty and dark. More 'Tears of the Nightsisters'."

"No shit. That's a surprise."

She looked into space again, tutted and shook her head, "This tantrum is turning epic, even by his standards. So..." she rose to her feet, with a little difficulty, and gestured to Finn with both hands. "Let's get down to it."

Finn removed his shirt while Rey nodded with approval, appraising him with hands on hips.

"Keeping in shape."

"Of course. Sith don't take no prisoners."

"Unzip me."

She turned and bundled the skirts and trains in front of her, then held up her hair, offering the nano-zip tab, close to her hairline at the top of the high lace collar. The upper and back of the gown appeared to be constructed almost entirely from swirls of matt black spider web and looked perilously delicate.

Finn found the tiny black tab at the nape of her neck, carefully placed a fingertip on it and stroked downwards, the fabric parting along an invisible seam, webs dropping away in whispers of black to expose pale skin. His finger swept the curve of her back slowly, skimming her spine all the way to a point just below the small of her back where he stopped in surprise.

So many scars. Cuts, a wound from a vibro weapon, a plasma burn. He'd always believed he knew her as well as anyone, but one simple act had revealed the extent of how much was still hidden from him: her long, lonely survival on Jakku, the post-Exegol madness, years of hunting for The New Glory. And what else?

He traced a pale, ragged line across her shoulder blade. "You could have these removed, you know."

"No," Rey murmured, "Scars are stories. Without them, I might forget." And Finn found himself overwhelmed by a longing to hear her tell the tales of trials, horrors and misadventures that had marked her, and understand the landscape of her life more completely.

She shrugged off the dress to let it tumble into a mound of mesh and dark fabric, leaving her in nothing but matching underwear: black, delicate mesh that clung to her skin through some kind of sensual sorcery, linked by ebony threads that were barely there at all. She turned and directed him to the bed, "Sit here."

They sat facing each other on the edge of the bed, and she took both of his hands. Her fingers were cool and dry. Finn was sure his felt warm and sweaty.

"Ok. Just relax," she said.

"Rey."

"Yes?"

"I have to ask."

"Ok."

"Are the petal girls going to be here all night?" he indicated the two girls who stood attentively at the side of the bed, having just finished covering it in a fragrant layer of white petals. They smiled at him.

"Oh, right. You want them to go?" Rey asked, "Honestly I'd completely forgotten they were there. I think I'm born to live a life of privilege. Must be that Palpatine blood," she reflected in satisfaction.

She pointed to the door, and the girls slumped then walked off, huffing and dangling their baskets sullenly. One of them winked and gave a little wave to Finn, who watched them close the door behind them, turned back to Rey and took a breath. "Ok, better," he clapped his hands and rubbed them together, "Now, how do we do this?"

She took his hands and laced their fingers together, looking into his eyes. "Relax. And open your mind."

"So I'll still be in control, right?" He held her gaze, not daring to break it, the two of them entwined ever more closely.

"Yes. He'll see through your eyes, feel what you feel." She leaned closer.

He'd always thought her eyes were an almost colorless grey, but now he noticed they were actually a mix of green and blue, shot through with brown that was almost orange in places. From afar they were dull and unremarkable, but when he looked again, really looked, close up they were extraordinary. How had he never noticed? Why had he never noticed? Years of orbiting each other at a distance that concealed beauty, reducing it to the common and everyday.

She leaned in closer, their faces almost touching now.

"Empty your mind," she whispered, "Remember your training. Open yourself to the Force."

Their lips touched, the world grew dark and fell away...