letters ; stormpilot au

( D. )

And so, it begins.

Finn: walks to the subway, takes the subway, goes to support group. When the car works, he takes that. Idles around with Rey. Works for her aunt, Leia, when he's supposed to. Laughs with Chewie about lame jokes.

His favourite is 'Why did the coffee file a police report?' 'Because it got mugged.'

( There isn't any stand-up comedy though, thank the Maker. )

No Dameron, Poe Dameron, who smiles like a devil, wears sweatpants low on his hips and doesn't comb his hair. No BB-8, no Cat Crusader.

Finn can't quite explain it, but he feels . . . disappointment?

About two weeks pass before he manages to squeeze his strange emotions into a conversation with Rey.

Rey's eyebrows peak. "You're still thinking about him?"

"I mean, I don't know how to explain it either, but it's just there. Nagging." Like something's wrong. Like something's empty.

Rey turns away from him, pondering it. "You don't know how to explain it, but you can figure out why."

That, gets him thinking: figuring out why.

Maybe it's because he's fixating, and that encounter was interesting enough in his boring life to be embalmed on his brain until he dies.

Maybe it's because Poe, admittedly, is rather cute.

Maybe it's because his cat is cute.

Or maybe it's because Finn, of all things, wants to be swept off his feet. Poe looks the type too - the prince waiting to save the day, with those curly locks and chiseled chin - and Finn's just the tiny villager waiting to be saved from the big scary PTSD dragon.

It's a nice way to think of it, but dragons are not easily conquered - especially Finn's. And no stranger, especially Poe Dameron, is just going to waltz up to Finn's doorstep and be able to solve all his problems with a brandish of a sword or a kiss.

But still, it is a nice thought.

×

The Millennium Falcon, on Wednesday, oh so surprisingly, breaks down for the second time in the same week. Rey is away on a work trip for her aunt, so Finn is left to his own devices to take it to the store and repair it.

And use his own money to pay for the repairs. Even if it belongs to Rey.

He should begin charging Rey interest whenever she owes him money.

He nonchalantly calls the tow truck to pick him off the road - this has happened so frequently that it's become routine for him - and not scary at all.

The tow truck finally arrives, and Finn is glad it's the tow truck man who has a huge graying beard nearly double his size and looks like he could be a part of a biker gang, even when he, in fact, is just a really nice tow truck man.

He beams as he sees Finn. "I swear, you two are basically making my business."

"We are your business, Harold," Finn laughs, watching as he hooks the Falcon up.

"Indeed," Harold slides into the driver seat with ease, "Hop in, I'll give you a ride to the shop."

"Oh, I could just take a cab," he replies, which Harold rejects immediately with a shake of his head.

"Not on my watch, Mister Finn," Harold pats the seat next to his. "Hop in."

Finn smiles. "Thanks."

The usual five minute trip to the repair store stretches into fifteen because Harold insists on buying Finn ice cream. It's childish, but Finn can't help but grin as he licks off a melting dribble of salted caramel in the store, ten minutes later.

Harold unhooks the Falcon, and Finn hums as he turns around to call a worker, and freezes.

It isn't the ice cream, no, not brain freeze, but someone needed to pinch him - stat - because if he's not halluncinating, the goddamn Cat Crusader, wearing a tight tank top, covered in axel grease, is standing not three feet away from him.

Finn, very calmly, tucks his tongue back in his mouth.

This is not happening.

A very large part of him wanted to avoid confrontation at all costs, but, a smidge, a fraction of him just wants that nagging empty feeling in him to go away.

And perhaps, Poe is the answer to that.

Someone taps his shoulder, and he turned to see a woman pouring over a clipboard. "You own the Falcon?"

"Unfortunately." ( Finn thanks the Force that he doesn't have to make that decision. ) "What happened to it?"

"Faulty compressor," she shrugs, "Couple of credits to fix it."

"A couple of credits meaning . . .?"

"Two hundred and seventy five," she replies.

Finn inhales. He hasn't even finished paying for the Falcon yet. Demurely, he finishes off the last of his ice cream and reaches into his pocket to pull out his wallet. He passes a wad of bills to the mechanic hesitantly, chewing his lip.

"Hey, Jess!" Finn hears the Cat Crusader call. "I'm gonna take my lunch break, alright?"

Jess ( Rey's Jess ) shakes her head. "You gotta replace Mister Finn's compressor here first, and then you can go. Sorry, Dameron."

Finn, very quietly, launches into full panic mode. On the outside, he's frozen still, calmly putting his wallet back in his pocket, but on the inside, he's hyperventilating - heavily.

"Finn?" There's a hint of curiosity in his voice ( or something else? ).

There could be a lot of Finns in the galaxy. But not all of them owned a Millennium Falcon and ratted themselves out to a stranger on a train.

Despite inner hyperventilating Finn, he manages to turn around to face Poe. Poe's face lights up.

"Finn," he grins, "owner of a Millennium Falcon." Poe runs a hand through his unruly hair, wiping the same hand down his pants. "It's me, uh, Poe? From the train? You saved my cat."

"Poe - ! Good to see you again!" Finn almost pats himself on the back on how convincing he sounds that he hasn't been thinking of Poe since the day they met.

"I'm Poe -" Poe stops himself. "You know that."

"I do." Finn smiles to himself.

"Kriff, how badly am I doing right now?" Poe laughs nervously, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his very necessarily emphasized tank top.

"You're not horrible," Finn pauses, reexamining his statement, quickly backtracking. "I mean, you're wonderful, but I-" Finn sighs. "Honestly, I'm not doing that great either."

"How about we restart?" says Poe, "It's good to see you again, Finn."

Finn visibly relaxes, his shoulders slumping. "You too, Poe."

"I'm gonna go fix your compressor," says Poe, "and after that, I'm gonna leave my phone number on your dash, is that alright?" ( And Poe nearly pats himself on his back on how totally unrehearsed that sounded, even if it was rehearsed, several, several times in the mirror. )

Inner Finn makes a reappearance, as Finn struggles to inhale.

"Sounds great," he manages to say, "sounds perfect."