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𝙀𝙋𝙄𝙇𝙊𝙂𝙐𝙀—𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳—

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𝙀𝙋𝙄𝙇𝙊𝙂𝙐𝙀
—𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳—

     BEXLEY TERRIS STEPS out of the meeting room with Dawn Nolan, now the second-hand General, close behind her. With a large smile, she jumps into the waiting arms of Poe Dameron, placing a chaste kiss on his forehead before pulling away to look at his grinning face. There was a small bit of stubble growing on his chin— a result of the five-day mission he had just arrived home from. It wasn't much of a job, if he was being honest; the hardest part about it was being away from his two favorite people in the world.

"So, how did things go?" He asks, raising an eyebrow as Bexley holds up a four-paged document.

"Daddy got the job!" She giggles, nodding over to her father, who's seemingly as happy as the reunited couple. "He starts on Monday, Spencer is going to teach him the ropes of all that mechanical stuff. He'll be a pro in no time."

A month back, Bexley had fought with all of her might to convince her father to join the Resistance and try for a new job— something different from the usual assassin role. And with lots and lots of begging, he had finally started studying for something new; the mechanics of machinery and ship design. It took most of that month to learn as much as the other trainees had, before leading up to this day— the day when he would be positioned next to Spencer, the head of ship work.

And only a few days after that, Heath had announced his engagement to a pilot he had met a couple years back. With his rank being just under Poe's, the man finally had the chance to take a break on himself for a bit, and focus on the more simple aspects in life. Spencer had finally realized his feelings for Dawn around the same time, confessing his love for her. Happily enough, Dawn had returned them, and now they were every waking second together.

All of the team had switched their majors— Heath and Spencer no longer had the same motivation to become an assassin like Bexley. Instead, they both went their own ways; much like Dawn had when she decided to be at the hand of the general. Things may not have played out as they'd hoped, but they were perfect now . . . almost as if it were meant to be, and everything before now had happened for a distinct reason.

"I'm so proud of you, Bex," the curly-haired man places his forehead against hers. "You're doing amazing. But I expect you won't be looking into any new missions for yourself, I won't allow it."

The blonde woman hums in response, shaking her head a bit. "It's not too much fun sitting in an office full of paperwork all day. You should try it sometime and then target me like that."

Poe chuckles, releasing her from his grasp. He drops down to his knees, tugging up her shirt a bit to reveal her baby bump. Five months ago she had run in on his important meeting with the pilot inspection crew, apologizing a million times a minute before sporting the news that there would be another Dameron in the Resistance— one that wasn't Poe or Bexley. And to say that Poe Dameron cried would be the understatement of the century.

"How's kiddo doing?" Poe asks, kissing her round belly. "Still feisty?"

"Of course," Bexley says, running her fingers through his hair. "I always feel like laying back and relaxing for a while, but then I realize I would have to be a pampered princess for that. There's too much work here— and even Leia, a real princess, couldn't do such a lazy thing."

"Titles don't matter," Poe moves back to his feet, his chocolate brown eyes meeting hers. "And besides, we all know that you're the real princess here, sweetheart."

The fight would never truly be over, they knew— eventually, another threat would impose.

But until that day came, they would reminisce in their own little piece of forever.

_______

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