A Girl, A Boy and the Stars - A FinnRey story

Into the Dark

Finn opened his eyes.

No, not opened - they'd never been closed. He was seeing through them again, as if the world had been switched back on, like a light. He was looking at the ceiling of the bedroom, lying on his back, on the bed. He was naked.

He turned his head. Rey was lying on her side next to him, watching him, breathing deeply, covered in a thin sheen of perspiration.

"My FN..." she purred.

"What happened?" he remembered a kiss, and then... he was here. Nothing else.

He sat bolt upright and immediately regretted the impulse, wincing at a sharp pain in his back and a seething mess of hurt all trapped in his head. It was too early for a hangover. What had Solo done to him?

"What do you mean, what happened?" a look of concern on her face.

"We were sat on the bed, and the next thing I know, I wake up here."

"What?" she frowned in confusion, "You mean you weren't..." she gesticulated helplessly with one hand, "there for it?"

"No."

"So Ben was in control the entire time?"

"I guess." Finn groaned and attempted to rearrange his spine.

Of course. Solo had fucked both of them. He should have known. He had known. What exactly was unexpected in this turn of events? Nothing. He knew it was asking for trouble, and he'd walked right into it, willingly, for the most obvious of reasons. He slumped back down onto the bed and massaged his temples.

"Ben?" she sat up and scanned the room, "Ben!"

Stars he was tired, the Merenzane, the Andoan, the hour and the experience of having his mind and body taken over by an evil bastard, it was all catching up with him fast. He could deal with this later, in the morning. Actually, he'd had a really cool evening. The best in a while. A long while.

She was in the other room now, pacing and talking to Solo. She sounded angry.

Damn this bed was comfortable. It would be even more comfortable under the sheets. He slipped between them and hoped the headache would be gone in the morning. Tomorrow was a new day, after all.

-----

Stirring from sleep, the suite in darkness, fingers in his hair and a soft whisper in his ear. "FN..."

Wetness on his cheek. He turned over, pulled up the sheets and fell back into dreams.

A trail of white petals led him through bland hotel corridors that twisted left and right endlessly, the dark figure ahead glimpsed only for the briefest of moments before she rounded the next corner, and the next, black train flowing behind her, white blooms in her wake. A sudden anxiety pulled him forward and increased his pace, fueled by an instinctive need to see the woman, to touch her, to hold her. His desire to reach the woman in black grew to desperation as he dashed headlong on slippery tiled floors, sliding around corners, crashing into walls, the pursuit growing ever more frantic with every fleeting, lost glance as she remained distant, beyond his grasp.

Another corner rounded, and before him a long, narrow corridor, at the opposite end a door closing on a shadow while white flakes drifted to the floor. He sprinted the length of the passage to reach the door, open it and step through.

The Falcon hummed around him, the soft clicks and beeps of its systems the only sound in the main cabin as it sped through the stars. Only a few paces in front of him was the woman, her back to him, face hidden, still and silent in a black gown, its trails and skirts filling the craft like a flood of night shot through with veins of casino gold.