Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ben Solo was standing behind a fence. And pacing on the other side of that fence was a goddamn hungry tiger. It seemed pretty...securely enclosed. But the fence didn’t look like much more than chain link. Was that really appropriate to contain a fucking tiger? God, he hoped so. Shouldn’t there be big steel bars or something? And there wasn’t just the one tiger. No. Ben was now involved in a multiple tiger situation. There were lions, too. He wasn’t sure if the spotty one was a leopard or a jaguar. Were any of these legal to own? He hadn’t the slightest clue.

There were other animals—peacocks, ostriches, emus, some gazelle-looking somethings. Pretty much everything you would expect to find in an eccentric uncle’s private menagerie. The smaller animals, they seemed more along the lines of what Ben could handle. He was a big guy. He worked out. He could hold his own against an emu, probably, if it attacked him. A tiger...not so much. He needed help. Professional help. Immediately. Not knowing where else to turn, he posted an ad on Craigslist.

Craigslist> Jobs> Et Cetera

 

Exotic Animal Caretaker Needed URGENTLY

Caretaker for private collection of exotic animals needed ASAP

Experience with big cats required

-

When Luke died, it turned out that he’d named Ben as the primary beneficiary of his last will and testament. The decision was shocking, since their relationship had been tumultuous. They hadn’t even been on speaking terms when he died. The lawyers, however, insisted that it wasn’t a mistake. Luke had made the decision of sound mind, and so Ben was set to inherit a not-insignificant collection of properties. Among them was one of his grandfather’s estates.

Anakin Skywalker was a notorious mobster. He started as a lowly drug dealer. With hard work and willingness to get his hands dirty, he quickly made a name for himself. Before long he was rubbing elbows with the country’s top gangsters. The influx of money allowed him to indulge his every fantasy—and as it turned out, Anakin had quite a flair for the dramatic. There were mansions, and cars, and liquor, of course. But Anakin’s pride and joy was his private zoo stocked with tigers. Rumor had it that they were fattened on the bodies of anyone who dared to cross their master.

Anakin, as was the case with many mobsters, died violently and at a relatively young age. He left his beloved zoo to his son, Luke. Luke loved the property, maybe even more than his father had. He was practically a hermit, never straying far from home. When Ben was a kid, he loved visiting the zoo. He adored his uncle, who would spend lazy afternoon lounging with lions and tigers as if they were house cats. In his imagination, young Ben painted his mysterious grandfather as a hero to be idolized.

But as an adult, Ben could see things more clearly: His grandfather was a criminal, his uncle was a weird old Hippie who was lucky to have never been mauled, and the zoo was a headache. Ben dreaded being stuck with it.

Fortunately, Ben’s other eccentric uncle, Lando, offered to manage the property. He would be more than happy to take over care of the animals in exchange for living a life of comfort in the property’s mansion. It was the perfect arrangement for everyone. Until today. When Ben woke up to a voicemail from Uncle Lando.

“Hey, Benny Boy! How are you doing? Good, I hope. I’m doing fantastic—I just found out I have a daughter! A daughter! Can you believe it? She’s around your age, I think. And she wants to meet me! I’m flying out tomorrow, first thing. You’re going to have to take over caring for the animals. I know it’s short notice. Really short notice—but you understand, right? I can’t pass this up. I don’t know when I’ll be back—or if I’ll be back. I’ve already missed out on so much. Well, I better get going. This wardrobe won’t pack itself. See you around!”

-

To Ben’s surprise, someone responded to the Craigslist ad almost immediately after it was posted. They attached their resume, and everything seemed to check out. They were young, but it seemed they’d put in a few years at various other private zoos. Most importantly, they had experience with tiger care and maintenance. He requested an interview right away.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting when the applicant arrived. Maybe something of a Jane Goodall or Steve Irwin-type. Someone just overflowing with passion and dedication to animals. And maybe Rey was like that, but there was something else. Ben’s stomach dropped at the sight of her. Rey was fucking hot.

She popped out of the driver’s seat of her junker car with a beaming smile. She was radiant. Her denim cut-off shorts and hiking boots probably served well as work attire, considering her field, but goddamn if they didn’t also show off her long, tan legs. She was lean and muscled. She looked like she could kick his ass. Apparently, he was into that. Very into that. Perhaps Ben was more like his father than he had ever realized. As he attempted to process these thoughts, Rey approached to shake his hand.

“Are you Ben Solo? From Craigslist?” She spoke with a British accent, and up close, he could see that she had freckles. F. R. E. C. K. L. E. S.

Her grip on his hand was firm as she greeted him. He desperately prayed that his palms weren’t as sweaty as they felt. Realizing that awkward seconds were ticking by, he remembered that she was waiting for a reply. “Yes. Yes, that’s me. Ben. I'm Ben Solo. From Craigslist.”

He took her for a tour of the grounds, trying desperately not to make a complete ass of himself along the way. Which is impossible, because he’d been a walking disaster all his life. Why should things be any different today? And Rey seemed so perfectly, blessedly competent. He wouldn’t be able to hide it from her.

“What are you feeding them?” she asks before they even make it past the first set of tiger pens.

“That’s a great question,” he flounders, “Really good question. I just took over yesterday. I don’t know what they’re used to eating—which is why I’m looking for help with all this—so I just picked them up some steaks.”

Her brows furrowed. “Steaks?”

“Yeah, like from a butcher. I bought, like, everything they had at the local shop.” It had seemed like a good idea at the time. He knew enough to know that cats are carnivores. Any idiot knows that much, at least. “They seemed to like them. Was that...bad?”

“Wasn’t that incredibly expensive?”

He hesitated. “Oh. I inherited a lot of money. Like, a lot. I don’t normally...tell strangers about that. But it didn’t really matter how much it cost.”

“Hm,” was her reply. She turned away and continued down the path. The rest of the tour went mostly without a hitch. Rey informed him that the spotty cat was a leopard. She asked him for the names of the cats, but he didn’t know them. Otherwise, everything went great. They arrived back at the house, and Ben invited her in to talk business.

“So Rey, what do you think?”

“I’ll be blunt. It’s clear you need a lot of help.” She definitely hit that nail on the head. “But it seems like you’re genuinely trying to do the right thing. I could help you—if we can come to an agreement.”

“Fantastic,” he sighed of relief, “What kind of pay are you expecting?”

“Are room and board included? At my last two jobs, I had to live on-site in case I was needed at odd hours.”

“I hadn’t considered that,” Ben admitted, “I guess that makes sense. I’ve barely moved in myself, but there’s several suites in the main house. If you’re comfortable with that, you can pick one.”

“I won’t take less than-" she wrung her hands and shifted, as if she were nervous, "-Than $200 a week.”

Huh. That seemed...unreasonably low for such specialized animal husbandry work. “I’m kind of in a bind here. I’ll give you $400 a week if you can start today.”

Her mouth open and closed a few times. She was blinking a lot. “O-ok. That’s...acceptable.” She took a deep breath, “I just have one last question. And please, don’t take this the wrong way.”

“...Alright?”

“Is there going to be any weird, freaky sex stuff that’s expected as part of this job?” Her tone and body language indicated that this was 100% a dead serious question she was asking. “Because I need you to know right now that that’s not the kind of employment I’m looking for.”

Chapter Text

“I-uh-what?” Ben stammered. He was pretty sure he was having a stroke. What did having a stroke feel like? Maybe he misheard what she had just said. He had to check. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

Rey, who had looked uncomfortable requesting to be paid just $200 a week, now looked completely unphased. Cool as a cucumber, she reiterated, “I asked you if you’re expecting any sexual favors as a part of this job, because if so I am not interested.”

Oh. Ok. Wow. He definitely hadn’t misheard her.

“Y-yeah. No sex stuff. Not a problem,” he chuckled nervously, “I’m not interested in that kind of, uh, professional relationship either.” God, he hoped his hair was hiding his ears. He was sure they were beet red by now. This was quickly becoming the most uncomfortable conversation he’d ever had in his life, and that was really saying something.

“Perfect,” she said with a charming little clap of her hands, “Then we’re on the same page here. I apologize for asking at all, really. I’ve just learned to be...proactive. About avoiding those kinds of situations. So, I accept the job offer. Should we shake on it?”

“Hey, backpedaling a little bit here, about your question-”

“-The sex question?”

“Yes, that’s the one. Was there...something wrong with the ad I posted?” He was pretty sure that was not the case. He’d been short and to the point in the listing. He’d proofread it a few dozen times. He was confident that he hadn’t accidentally typed ‘erotic’ instead of ‘exotic.’ Unless something was some kind of...code word he was unfamiliar with? He couldn’t see how there could possibly have been room for misinterpretation. “I’m trying to understand the context here.”

“No! It’s nothing you did. You seem very nice. I can see how someone...not versed in the industry...might find that line of questioning a little out of the blue.”

“Just a little, yeah,” he squeaked out as his voice began to crack with discomfort. He pulled out the copy of her resume that he’d printed earlier. It seemed so normal. “I feel like I might have some pretty serious concerns about your previous employers. Can you tell me more about your past work environments?”

Rey sighed, “That’s going to be kind of a long story. When I aged out of foster care, I had to get a job right away. And I found this website, a tiger farm that was hiring. They did yoga and trained tigers and practiced vegetarianism. You got to live on-site. You didn’t even need experience, they’d train you from the ground up. I’d always wanted to work with animals, you know? So I applied.”

Ben nodded.

“It looked so legit. It sounded like a dream,” Rey continued as her expression turned sour, “And then I was accepted and it was a nightmare. The ‘on-site housing’ was a bunch of old horse stalls. There were roaches just everywhere. I don't mind working hard, but the work was grueling. There wasn’t enough food for all the girls—did I mention that he only hired young girls? Guess why.”

“No. No, no, no. Please tell me he wasn’t-”

“Yeah, turns out he expected everyone to have sex with him. He considered a few of them his wives. It was some kind of cult, I swear. Fortunately—if you can even say that—I was too flat-chested to be found attractive. He offered to pay for breast implants, but,” she gestured to her naturally proportionate chest, “As you can see, I declined.”

“Oh my god,” he buried his face in his hands and repeated, “Oh my god.” He parted his fingers enough to glance at the resume again, cringing visibly at the dates. She had lasted there for nearly a year. Good lord.

“I couldn’t just leave. I wanted to, but it wasn’t an option. I had nowhere else to go. So I kept my head down, got as much experience as I could, and then got the hell out of there as soon as I got another job offer,” she shrugged, as if this somehow wasn’t something worth making a big deal over. “My next boss, he was a different kind of awful. He was gay, so no funny business there. He had a bad temper, though. And a lot of guns. Not a good combination.”

“I imagine not,” Ben groaned. This was fucking unbelievable.

“He put me up in a rat-infested trailer. But meals were free, if you were willing to eat the same expired meat they fed the tigers. I lasted there a lot longer,” and her resume confirmed this. “The guy who took over recently, he was a swinger. He wanted to reassign me from caretaker to nanny, and I had a bad feeling about it. I put in my two weeks notice instead.”

“Well,” Ben said while dropping whatever semblance of professionalism he’d been clinging to, “Fuck, I don’t know. There are no words.”

She gestured in front of herself, as if her story was some physical object she was presenting him, “So you see why I asked what I did. In my experience, all these Tiger-guys are into some really weird stuff. I just wanted to make things clear.”

“Absolutely,” Ben nodded, “Just for the record, I’m not into...any of that. I’m monogamous. I’m so monogamous. I’m not even dating anybody right now, let alone multiple people at once.”

Smooth, he thought. But she giggled at his clumsy admission. It was just a little chuckle, bright and short-lived. He could tell immediately that it would be his new favorite sound. Not that he had ever had an old favorite sound, before just now. Truly, she was delightful.

Whatever he’d been hoping to find on Craigslist when he posted that ad, it certainly wasn’t Rey. She’d exceeded all of his expectations, even with the tragic backstory. It was almost comical how much shit this poor girl had been through. Almost. His fucking heart broke for her, he could feel it aching in his chest. He was fucking angry for her. It wasn’t fair. He got to inherit a goddamn mansion and more money than he could ever know what to do with. He’d never wanted for anything his whole miserable life, and poor, lovely Rey got to work for a series of predators. He had to do something about this. Maybe he would forward a copy of Rey’s resume to his mom later, and she could pass it along to someone who could investigate these people. Surely her political connections had to be good for something.

At least everything was going to be better now. Ben was going to be the best damn boss Rey had ever had. Sure, he was a fuck up. But the bar was set really low. These other guys were real fucking scumbags. These people belonged in jail. Ben could do this. His mom is Leia Organa-Solo. He grew up drinking his ‘Respect Women Juice.’ He was going to shower Rey with kindness and appreciation. He was going to respect the ever-loving hell out of her.

And...yeah, being a good boss meant he couldn’t, like, ask her out on a date. That would be incredibly unprofessional, especially considering what she’d just shared with him. But, let’s be honest, she was so very far out of Ben’s league that dating her had never been a realistic possibility anyway. He wasn’t missing out on anything by getting to be her friend instead.

“Um,” she interrupted as she gazed up at him warily. Shit, how much awkward silence had passed just now? “Do I still have the job?”

“Yes,” he responded immediately. She probably could have asked him for literally anything just then—the shirt off his back, the keys to his car, a goddamn kidney, to name a few things—and he would have agreed with as little hesitation.

-

Ben immensely regretted showing Rey one of the smaller guest rooms first. It was closest to the office where they’d been talking, so at the time it had seemed a sensible decision. He’d envisioned taking her around the house, showing her every room, and letting her decide whichever she’d liked best. She could have her pick of any of them, save for the master bedroom (still full of Lando’s things) and the room he’d claimed for himself (which was the same one he used to sleep in when visiting Luke as a young boy, because Ben was a creature of habit).

But Rey had thrown a wrench in his plans when she insisted that the very first room he showed her would suit her just fine. It was a nice enough room, he guessed. Definitely better than a roach-infested horse stall or rat-infested trailer. The ensuite in this one didn’t even have a bathtub though—just a shower. She could not be persuaded to consider the other rooms, despite any gentle attempts or tempting stories of the nice clawfoot tub in one of the rooms upstairs. Ben decided not to push the issue, and she skipped off to her car to grab some of her belongings.

Which were conveniently in her car already because, she’d confessed, she’d been living in the damn thing.

He must have looked stricken when she told him, because she smiled and offered that sometimes she crashed on her friends’ couch when the temperature was too hot to sleep safely in a vehicle. As if that made it better. As if any of this was OK for her. She was still smiling when she carried in what were apparently her most important possessions: a backpack, a trash bag full of clothes, and a box of granola bars.

As soon as she was moved in (if you could call it that), Rey got right to work. Apparently, there was much of it to be done. She was topping off water troughs, taking inventory of what supplies were on hand, and checking on some old freezers she found in one of the sheds. She assembled a list of necessities to be ordered, and even called suppliers for price quotes. As it turned out, ordering meat from a packing plant was a lot more cost-effective than buying out the local butcher’s shop. Rey was proving to be a highly efficient employee. Ben had a really good feeling about her.

Chapter Text

Rey hadn’t believed in luck for many years now. Still, she couldn’t help but feel maybe a little lucky today, waking up under a plush comforter in her own room. A room that was in an actual mansion. A room that had an actual locking door (she checked). This was the kind of scenario she used to dream about as a young girl. She’d fantasize that her parents would whisk her away, and she’d wake up every day in a room just like this to the smell of breakfast cooking. But no parents ever came to rescue Rey from foster care. Her childhood was...hard. People could be so cruel. Life was not fair.

She got dressed and crept into the hall. The house was still dark, the sun only just starting to make its appearance for the day. Ben was probably still in bed, she figured. People like him—wealthy people—could afford the luxury of sleeping in well past sunrise, after all. For people like Rey, there was work to be done.

-

She trekked out right away to check on the animals. She didn’t know their routine yet, but based on how many of them were still resting peacefully, she assumed they weren’t used to early morning interactions. A few of them glared cautiously as she walked past their cages, trying to gauge if she was a friend or a foe.

“I’m here to take care of you,” she explained, responding to the unspoken question of a particularly curious tiger. He’d been stalking along behind her as she went about her business. He froze in place as she’d turned to admire him.

He was a gorgeous, creamy apricot color. His coat was lush and glossy. It was clear that this animal was well taken care of. And not just him: all of the animals appeared to be in excellent condition. It gave Rey hope. Maybe this would finally be the good, healthy work environment she’d always been looking for.

She asked the tiger, “Do you have a name, handsome?”

He did not reply. He stared back, unblinking.

“Well then, for now I’ll call you Pretty Boy.”

-

A while later, Rey made her way back to the house. Now that the animals were taken care of, it was time for her own breakfast. She was halfway back to her room, ready to grab one of her granola bars, when the scent of fresh coffee stopped her in her tracks. It was so warm and inviting that she couldn’t help but to follow it to the kitchen. There she found Ben, still in pajamas, standing at the counter.

“Good morning,” she greeted, announcing her presence.

He turned to acknowledge her, his hair still a little mussed from sleeping, “Good morning, Rey. You were up early, huh?”

“Mhm.” It was still pretty early, even now. She planned to take a quick nap before the first delivery of the day was set to arrive. Her gaze turned towards the coffee pot. It was full enough that she didn’t feel too guilty asking. “Do you mind if I have a cup?”

“Of course not, help yourself. There’s cream in the fridge, if you need it. Sugar’s already on the table.”

“Thank you,” she said, as he handed her a mug from one of the cabinets. It looked plain at first glance, but when she turned it over there was a pot leaf design on the front. Rey snorted at the sight of it. She angled it so Ben could see, and his eyes bulged comically.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry. They were my uncle’s. Let me get you a different one,” he reached back into the cabinet, only to produce another identical pot leaf mug. It was clear that he was flustered now, because the reddened tips of his ears poked out from behind his dark hair. He turned his own mug around, revealing the same design, which he clearly hadn’t noticed before. He mumbled, “Fucking Luke.”

“It’s fine,” Rey insisted, as she bit back laughter. She’d already filled her mug anyway, and was just having a seat at the table.

“I’ll buy new ones for tomorrow.”

“Don’t bother, they work fine. It’d be wasteful to get rid of them just because they’re silly.”

He sighs before changing the subject, “Have you eaten yet?”

“I was about to grab a granola bar.”

“Do you like waffles? You look like you’d like waffles.”

Of course Rey liked waffles. Who didn’t like waffles? She nods.

He steps aside to reveal he’d been standing in front of a waffle iron. There’d been a mixing bowl on the counter beside him that she hadn’t noticed before. “I’m going to make some, if you don’t mind waiting. No guarantees—but I think they’ll be better than granola.”

Her face blanks out as she begins processing this information. Her new boss is offering to cook her homemade waffles. Rey’s never even eaten homemade waffles before, only the off-brand frozen ones.

Waffles > Granola Bar

She was sick of granola bars. Finn had a Sam’s Club membership, and they were such a steal for so many of them...she couldn’t pass them up. Not to mention, they wouldn’t go bad in the heat of her car. Some days they were practically all she ate. But still...

“I don’t want to impose,” she says, trying to be polite even though she definitely does want to impose.

“Nonsense, just give me a few minutes.”

She does give him a few minutes. She watches him work, and can’t help but notice how incredibly domestic this scene would be if she actually knew this man at all. If she hadn’t just met him off of Craigslist yesterday. Before she knows it, like magic, they each have a plate piled high with homemade waffles. They smell amazing. They taste amazing—even if the syrup is a little weird. She inspects the jug it’s in to read the label:

ORGANIC MAPLE SYRUP

100% PURE GRADE A

Rich taste! Sourced from real maple trees!

Huh. What the hell was the other stuff made of, then?

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” he says as they’re both finishing up.

Oh God. Here it is, the catch she’d been waiting for. Of course there’d be a catch. There’s always a fucking catch. She knew things were going too smoothly. The waffles were a trap. This isn’t going to be another cult thing, is it? How many fucking cults could there be out there?

Maybe he’s going to tell her he’s involved in organized crime. That would explain all the money and tigers. Crime lords fucking love tigers.

Or maybe he’s going tell her that hiring her was a mistake. He feels bad about it and the waffles were apology waffles. ‘Sorry you’re fired’ waffles.

Or maybe he was lying yesterday about this not being a sex thing. Would that really be so bad, at this point? At least he’s cute. At least he made you waffles. That’s more than—Wait, what? OF COURSE THAT WOULD BE BAD.

She peers up at him, thoughts swimming with dread.

“I was hoping I could tag along while you’re working this afternoon. Y’know, to see how everything’s supposed to be done.”

Oh.

That’s all he wanted?

That’s not a big deal.

-

Ben makes himself very unobtrusive, as he follows along for her chores. He’s observant and pays attention to the things she explains to him. He asks intelligent questions. Overall, he’s a model student.

“I felt like such an idiot yesterday,” he admits as they’re hiking between paths, “I mean, technically I own all these animals. I have no idea how to take care of them. I should know how to take care of my own animals.”

“But you’re willing to learn,” she tells him, “And that says a lot about you. So, you want me to teach you everything I know?”

“Yes, please.”

“And you promise you’re not going to fire me, once you know how to do it all yourself and you don’t need me anymore?” She intends it as a joke, but it comes out more seriously than she’d meant it to. It’s a legitimate concern of hers. She likes this job so far. She has a really good feeling about it, and she doesn’t get those often. Rey doesn’t want this to be temporary.

“-What? No! I-I wouldn’t do that to you.” He looked horrified that she would even suggest that he’d do such a thing. Good. “Trust me, I don’t want to do this every day. I need your help. I just want to know how, in case I ever get stuck again. Like, what if you need to take a sick day?”

Rey laughed, “Ben, I haven’t taken a sick day once in my entire life. Not even when I was in school.”

“Wow, you must be really healthy,” he says as if he’s impressed. But she wasn’t particularly robust. She just couldn’t afford not to work. And in school, she got free meals. Sometimes that was the only food she got all day. She couldn’t risk missing out on that by staying home if she was sick. She levels him with a gaze that she hopes will lead him to figure that out on his own. She doesn’t want to have to...say it. It must work, because eventually his face drops. He suddenly looks like a kicked puppy. “Oh. Rey, I’m sorry.”

With that, she sent him off to top off some water troughs. It was a simple enough task for him, she thought. Fresh water was the most important thing to provide any animal, especially on a hot day like today. When Rey heard cursing in the distance, she rounded the corner to investigate.

He must have held the hose too close to the fence, because a tiger got hold of it and pulled it into his cage. He was chewing on the nozzle now, looking delighted as water was spraying everywhere. It was the curious tiger from this morning.

“Hey, Pretty Boy,” she called out as she approached, “Did you get into trouble?”

Ben made a strangled noise.

“I was talking to the tiger,” she clarified.

-

By the time they distracted Pretty Boy and got the hose back, the first delivery truck had rolled up. It was a load of hay for the grazing animals. Rey offered to help unload it, but Ben and the delivery guy said they had it covered. She wasn’t going to complain about being excluded. Unloading hay fucking sucked. It was hard work, and itchy strands got everywhere and irritated the hell out of you until you got a chance to shower. She let them have at it, and sat back to supervise. It started off innocently enough, but soon…

Oh.

Fuck.

Ben had stripped down to his thin undershirt as he stacked bales. Rey had known that life was unfair, but this was a whole new level of cruelty. It wasn’t enough that her new boss made her waffles this morning. No.

Did he have to look like he was sculpted from marble? I mean, she knew he was big. That was obvious, even with clothes on. But goddamn, he was shredded .

I mean, come on. He was gorgeous, and sweet, and genuinely seemed to be a good person. How does that even happen?

She tried to look away, she really did. But she was powerless to stop it. She couldn’t help but to ogle how the cotton stretched thin across his broad chest. How his shoulders rippled. How his biceps flexed. It was obscene, is what it was. He had no business looking like that.

If this didn’t already feel like such an invasion of privacy, Rey would snap a picture as evidence. She could text it to Rose and say, ‘Hey girl, I repeatedly told this man just yesterday that I didn’t want to have sex with him. Hah!’

Yeah, Rose would have a nice long laugh with that one.

Why couldn’t she have had an unbelievably hot coworker at one of her crappy jobs? How the fuck was she supposed to unsee this? Why did it have to be this job, that she was starting to like so much?

No, Rey was a big girl. She could do this. She couldn’t risk fucking this job up. If ‘the catch’ to this otherwise perfect job was a hot boss, she could suck it up and be a professional. She’d been through worse. So much worse. This would be a piece of cake.

-

Spoiler alert: It wasn’t a piece of cake. It was a struggle to maintain eye contact with him for the rest of the afternoon. But somehow, they made it through the remainder of the chores that needed to be done. By then, Ben seemed to have a pretty good grasp on things.

She asked, “Do you have any questions?”

“Yeah,” he pointed to the pasture behind him, “What are those things?”

She looked into the field, where a herd of weird antelopes were grazing. Their markings didn’t match up to anything she’d ever seen before. They were tall and slender and honestly kind of funny looking. This was really not her day. “I gotta be honest with you, dude. I have no fucking idea.”

“Huh.”

“I’m sorry,” she hoped the ‘please don’t fire me’ went without saying. Please don’t fire me, Hot Ben. “Anything else?”

“Yes, actually,” Crap, he was making eye contact. It’d be rude to ignore that. “Is there, uh, is there anything else we can be doing to make the animals happy?”

“...What?”

“I mean, I know they’d be happier in the wild. But they’re here, and they’re my responsibility. So is there anything else they need to be happy?”

Oh no.

Oh no.

If this man had a label, like that jug of maple syrup earlier, it would surely read:

BEN SOLO

100% PURE GRADE A HUSBAND MATERIAL

Chapter Text

Rey liked to wake up really fucking early in the mornings. Ben had noticed this yesterday, when she’d interfered with his breakfast plans by slipping out to work as the goddamn sun was rising. He hadn’t expected her to do that. He’d had to rush downstairs in his pajamas (which was highly unprofessional of him), and even then he still had to ask her to wait while he got everything ready. He’d be more prepared today.

She was up and at ‘em at the crack of dawn again. He’d told her she could make her own hours. He didn’t ask her to do this. Ben didn’t care what she did, or when, as long as the animals were taken care of. He’d given her a lot of freedom. Was it normal to start the day that early? Surely Lando slept in much later when he was caretaker.

Maybe Rey just slept poorly? Ben could relate. He’d been a poor sleeper all his life. His mom says he was the most miserable, colicky baby anyone had ever seen. As a child, he’d suffered from night terrors. It made him a joy to be around. And while he’d eventually grown out of that, he still rarely slept soundly through the night. But he’d at least lay in bed and pretend to sleep until a reasonable hour to rise.

Maybe she wasn’t feeling comfortable enough here to get any real rest. She seemed to become increasingly uncomfortable yesterday afternoon. She stopped making eye contact. She seemed a little more skittish. He must have messed something up. He wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong, but he sure felt awful about it. He wanted to be a good boss—the best she’d ever had. And here he was, screwing up already. He had to do better. He had to show her that he valued her. That he cared about her. You know, as an employee.

She’d seemingly enjoyed the waffles he’d made yesterday, though she’d politely declined when he’d offered to make dinner. Was dinner too intimate for a boss to share with an employee? Fuck. Maybe he’d creeped her out. He’d try again with breakfast today. Breakfast was a nice, friendly, casual meal. There was nothing wrong with breakfast. If it seemed like he was making her uncomfortable again today, he could always excuse himself. Maybe she preferred to eat alone.

Ben dressed and headed down to the kitchen. Well, the family kitchen. There was another one elsewhere in the house meant for catering parties. He wasn’t sure how well-stocked that one would be. It was next to ‘the spa’ (if you could call a sauna and a single treadmill a ‘spa.’ Luke sure liked to.) and it opened up to the outdoor pool. Ben had passed the fuck out in that sauna once as a kid. He didn’t have much interest in trying it out again after that.

He made quick work of whipping up breakfast. He even had time to cook bacon today. He saved the package, in case Rey wanted to see that it wasn’t expired. Maybe she cared about things like that, after what she’d been through.

He was just setting everything aside in the oven to keep warm when his cell phone started vibrating in his pocket. He checked the screen. It was Lando.

“Hey,” he greeted, “How’s your secret daughter?”

“She’s fantastic! Really, a wonderful person. I’m so lucky to be here with her,” he was beaming. Fatherhood seemed to really suit him.

“I’m happy for you.”

“She’s gorgeous too—a real chip off the old block. I’d offer to set you guys up, but she’s too good for you,” if the affection in his uncle’s voice wasn’t so obvious, that could have been borderline insulting. As it was, Ben was used to Lando’s teasing. “How are my cats?”

“Technically, they’re my cats.”

“But the peacocks are mine. You remember that, in case I come back for them.”

“Please, take them,” the birds were obnoxious. Pretty, but so very, very loud. “God, their screams. I’ll never unhear them. Thanks for that.”

“Everything’s going smoothly over there? You’re managing OK on your own?”

“I hired someone to help.”

“Replacing your old Uncle Lando already. I see how it is. Well, it’s probably for the best. Who knows if I’ll be back. It was a sweet gig while it lasted. I imagine you’re probably on your way back to that fancy condo in the city then, aren’t you?”

“Uh, no, actually,” Ben said as he rubbed his neck. That had been his original plan: hire someone to deal with this, then go home. But he was starting to have second thoughts. If Lando wasn’t coming back, then that might change things.

“Good. Your mother must be thrilled. She’s always wanted you to move closer to home. Make sure you visit her.”

“I will,” Ben promised, “Soon. But Rey’s only just started, and she’s still settling in, so...I’m still figuring things out.”

“Oh, you hired a girl? Is she cute?”

“It would be highly inappropriate if I thought she was.”

“I’m not hearing a ‘no.’ That means that she’s cute?”

“...Yeah,” he admitted, “She’s cute.”

“Who’s cute?” Rey chimed in as she rounded a corner into the kitchen. She winced when she saw that he was on the phone and mouthed back, “I’m sorry.”

“Wait, Rey,” Ben called out before she could back out of the room. He pointed to the oven, “I made French toast. And bacon.”

“You’re making her breakfast?” Lando asked, seemingly with great interest. Shit.

Ben shifted the grip on his phone, “What’s that? You have to go now? That’s fine. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Hold on a sec—This is important,” Lando insisted. He sounded very convincing. Somehow, Ben was not convinced. “I want you to name your firstborn after me. Can you imagine? ‘Lando Solo.’ It has a nice ring to it. Han would be rolling over in his grave. If you guys hadn’t had him cremated, that is.”

“BYE.” His uncle’s cackling was audible even as Ben held the screen away to swipe the ‘End Call’ button. He was mortified. Hopefully Rey hadn’t overheard anything too incriminating. He turned to look at her.

She sat at the table, legs swinging merrily as she dug into her meal.

He agonized internally, not knowing if he was supposed to leave her to eat in peace or keep her company as she ate. Just when he’d concluded that he was going to have to bite the bullet and ask for her preference, she spoke.

“Are you not eating?” She talked with her mouth full. Somehow even that was endearing.

Ben didn’t like French toast. He normally ate scrambled eggs every day. He found himself loading up a plate anyway.

“So, who’s cute?” Rey asked, clearly oblivious to the subject of his phone call.

You are . He managed to stop the thought before it was vocalized. It was the truth, but...he couldn’t just tell her that.

“Uh, one of the tigers,” he lied. He had no choice. “That was my uncle, he was the one who used to take care of them before you.”

“Which one did he ask about?”

“Uh,” he croaked. Shit. He didn’t know any of their names. They all looked almost identical. Which one would be cute? “The smallest one?”

She nodded, apparently accepting his explanation. Thank God.

-

Ben spent the better part of the afternoon in the office. Its contents had been left almost completely untouched since Luke died. More likely than not, there were some important documents tucked away in here. Ben was hoping to find records on the animals. He’d been told his grandfather kept meticulous records for each of his many cats. He had...little faith that his uncle followed suit. But Ben wasn’t looking for much.

He just wanted to know their names.

Under the desk was a fireproof safe that looked promising, but it was locked when he tested it. He had no idea where the key was. He should have paid better attention when his dad had tried to show him how to pick locks that one time.

Moving on, he tested the desk drawers. None of those were locked. The top drawer was full of pens. Not even nice pens, like the fountain pens and dip pens lovingly tucked away in Ben’s desk back at his condo. No. These were junky free pens, like you might get from a bank that just opened. Or like you’d accidentally walk away with from a doctor’s office check-in desk. Very helpful, Luke.

He sifted through the mountain of pens, and something caught Ben’s eye. Something that wasn’t a pen, buried at the bottom of the drawer. A key! He stared at it in disbelief for a moment before scooping it up. Shit, nothing was ever this easy for him. He tried it in the safe and sure enough: the lock turned.

Weed.

No important documents. Just lots and lots of weed. God-fucking-damn it, Luke. You useless old hippie.

Ben slammed the safe shut and tried the desk again. One large drawer stuffed full of hanging files. Some of the folders were empty. Others were overstuffed. They weren’t alphabetized. Some of them weren’t even labeled. Of the ones that were labeled, none were marked “animals” or “tigers” or “vet records.”

But one file did jump out from among its peers.

It was labeled ‘Ben.’

The first thing inside it was a copy of Luke’s last will and testament. Ben set it aside. He’d already seen that. He’d gone over it several times with the lawyers.

Behind it was a large folded bit of paper. Unfolding it, Ben realized that it was a rough drawing of the estate. The various animal pens were labeled with numbers, and there was a corresponding key scrawled on the side. A key with names. Some of the names even had little notes besides them, like, ‘Bitey Son of a Bitch. Don’t touch.’ or ‘Gentle. Likes chin scritches.’ He quickly flipped through the rest of the pages. It looked like charts detailing the bloodlines of each animal.

He gathered the papers and hopped off to share his find with Rey. She’d asked about their names before. Her room was only just down the hall, and the door was open. Ben knocked gently on the frame.

“You can come in,” she said. She was lounging on her bed, clearly having been interrupted while scrolling on her phone.

“Uh, I found some documents. About the animals, their names and stuff. I thought you might want to see.”

She made an eager ‘grabby hands’ gesture, so he crossed the room to pass her the papers. She tore into them. He watched her finger drag over from the map to the key. She burst into laughter.

“What?” he asked, “What is it?”

“Look,” she turned the page back to him and pointed to the key, “It’s Pretty Boy.”

13. BlazeItUpFourTwenty “Blaze” - Frisky

Ben blurted out immediately, “I’m not calling him that.”

Rey turned her attention back to the other papers, “Hey, look! It says he’s related to Darth Vader. Wasn’t that the tiger seized from that famous mob guy? It was a big story back in the day, there was a true crime documentary about it a few years back. You know, the guy who fed people to the tigers? I forget his name.”

Shit. She knew about that?

“It was Anakin Skywalker. He was never actually convicted, you know. There wasn’t enough evidence.” There wouldn’t have been any evidence, if he’d really done what everyone said he did. “He cooperated with the investigation and got the tigers back before he died.” Before he died being gunned down by gangsters for cooperating with a federal investigation. “He was my grandfather.”

“Huh.” She looked around, suddenly putting the pieces together. “And this was his mansion? Where he...” allegedly fed people to tigers? “...Lived?”

“Yes.”

“Ben” she said very seriously as she met his gaze, “Are you involved in organized crime?”

“No.”

Her sigh of relief was audible. She returned to sifting through the papers from the file. “Hey, I think this one is for you.”

It was a letter.

Ben,

If you’re reading this, that means I must have kicked the bucket. I’m sure you’re not too torn up about it, but if you are, don’t worry too much: I believe in life after death.

 

By now you’ve probably been informed of the contents of my will. Maybe you think I lost my mind. Maybe you think I made a mistake. It’s not a mistake. I left everything to you on purpose.

 

I know things between us haven’t been great. Not for a long time. But things weren’t always bad.

 

I remember when your mother was pregnant, how excited we were to meet you.

 

When you were a baby, how you’d love to be held. You would cry and cry the minute you were set down.

 

When you were young, how you’d beg to come stay the night at my place. How you loved the animals, how they brought a smile to your face. You’d tell me that I was your favorite uncle. That meant a lot to me, because you had a lot of them to choose from.

 

And then, suddenly you were grown. And I fucked things up. We fought like cats and dogs.

 

And then you left.

 

I should have listened to you more closely. Been less judgmental. Been there for you.

 

I’m sorry. You don’t know how sorry I am now.

 

I’m glad you’re talking to your mother again. She needs you, now that your dad is gone. She tells me you’re doing well, and I hope that’s true.

 

I don’t know what you went through, because I didn’t care to ask, but I know who you are. I know you have a big heart. I know you’re not a city boy, no matter what you tell yourself. And maybe I’m wrong, and you’re happy living alone in that fancy condo. But maybe I’m not wrong.

 

This house, these animals...they brought me a lot of happiness over the years. They made you happy, too, once. Maybe they’ll bring you happiness again.

 

Or maybe you’ll sell the place and everything in it for all it’s worth, and the money will make you happy. That’s ok, too. I just want you to be happy.

 

The way things are looking for me...I don’t think you and I are going to get to reconcile. Not in this lifetime, at least.

 

I want you to know that, despite everything, I still love you. I’ve always loved you.

-Uncle Luke

“Are you alright, Ben?”

He clenched and unclenched his fingers, crumpling the letter a little in his grasp. “I don’t know.” How was he supposed to feel about this? Luke loved him? Wanted him to be happy? What did ‘happy’ even mean?

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” Her concern was palpable. “The TV I saw in the other room is huge. It’ll be like going to a movie theater.”

“...You do realize that there’s a theater in the basement, right?” It wasn’t that impressive. It could use some updating. But it had comfortable reclining seats and a projection screen.

“I haven’t explored the house much.”

“So you haven’t found the bowling alley yet?”

She grinned, “Now you’re just fucking with me.”

“Yeah,” he smiled back, “You’re right. It was removed during renovations. The theater’s real, though. C’mon. I’ll make popcorn.”