Stormpilot one shots

Bumps, Bribes, and Bicycle Rides

A/N - Okay I know it's been a while since I posted, but I'm back with a quick drabble inspired by my time on holiday. While I was away I did a lot of cycling (I went to Holland which I suppose makes it pretty much mandatory) and as I was cycling I began to wonder about Finn and Poe. And this little idea popped up. So I present to you: a quick drabble in which Poe cannot ride a bike and refuses to learn, while Finn does his best to coax him into giving it a try. Enjoy!

"Come on, Poe." Finn sighed, glancing over at the sullen man beside him. Poe was stood with his arms folded over his chest, glaring at the bike propped in front of him.

"Nope." Poe shook his head. "No way. Not a chance. Nien. Non. Nada. Niet. NO." Poe's head shook with each word as he muttered in the various languages he had picked up.

"Poe, you won't know until you've tried it." Finn attempted calmly.

"I have tried it. And it was awful."

"You tried it, what, 20 years ago?" Finn rolled his eyes. "You might be better at it now."

"26 years ago but whatever." Poe grumbled. Kes and Shara had tried to coax Poe into cycling when he was 6 years old, but Poe's cycling career had come to a tragic end when he fell off not thirty seconds after mounting the bike and broke his arm after landing at an unfortunate angle.

"Come on Poe, get on the bike." Finn's tone had shifted into exasperation now. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"Just look at the thing, Finn! The structural integrity is dreadful - you could snap it in half with your bare hands - and don't even get me started on the balance. That flimsy thing can't even stand up alone, let alone support a human being. It's a hazard on wheels!" Poe exclaimed.

"But flying a metal death box 30,000 feet in the air, supported purely by the laws of aerodynamics, is perfectly safe." Finn deadpanned.

"That's different, I've been flying my whole life!" Poe protested.

"You could have been cycling your whole life if you hadn't given up so easily." Finn teased. "Come on, don't tell me you were perfect at flying right away?"

"No, but-"

"See, you just need to practice." Finn grinned, content that he had made a strong point.

"How did you even learn to cycle anyway?" Poe grumbled.

"Don't try and change the subject, Poe." (The Order liked it's 'troopers to be skilled in a variety of methods of transportation) "Now you're going to stop being a baby and try cycling, or no cuddles for you." Finn tried a new tactic. Poe's face fell momentarily, before his expression shifted to indignance.

"Fine." Poe replied as cooly as he could manage.

"No sex either." Finn tried, growing desperate. He received the same, strained response. "And I'll convince the cooks not to give you any nice food. You know they love me." Finn had developed a close relationship with the mess staff because of his intense appreciation for new food when he first arrived - a direct contrast to the bland gruel he had been forced to choke down back in the Order. The kitchen staff had even given him a full taster session where he tried various dishes from across the galaxy (he'd never tell them but he much preferred Poe's cooking from Yavin IV, not that he was biased or anything). It was safe to say they'd probably take his side on this one.

Poe stared Finn down for a moment, gauging how likely it was that Finn would actually go through with it, or if he was just bluffing. Finn cocked an eyebrow, and Poe huffed. Serious it was.

Poe gnawed on his lip, glaring at the bike as though it was a conscious entity that would notice his fierce gaze and apologise before hurrying out of his way. The bike, however, did no such thing.