Chapter Text
Rey likes being a bike currier. She delivers exclusively for a small eclectic coffee shop called The Castle of Takodana. Once upon a time, the Castle was a sight to behold but nowadays, it looks like it's barely holding together, dwarfed by sleek mirrored high-rises.
It's still thriving though—everyone is incredibly loyal to the Castle and to Maz. She's the owner and is both shrewd and motherly. There's three other full-time staff members and all in all, it feels like family to Rey.
Days are filled with the comfort of predictability, cloaked in soothing aromatic scents. It's just a job; sure, but it provides a stability for Rey that she hadn’t had growing up. Plus, it pays the bills. Mostly.
Rey had no idea that being a bike currier would lead her to her husband, and ultimately, to having two crazy kids—both determined to take over the universe at the tender ages of four and six.
They will never be privy to how mommy and daddy met.
The day Rey’s life changes course starts out mundane and nondescript. Rey’s shift is almost over when a late order comes in: one grande dark roast coffee. Black. No cream. No sugar. No joy. It was a remarkedly simple order for a specialty coffee shop. They had over twenty latte flavors alone, all made in-house.
The lady calling it in said to charge whatever was needed in order to reach the required minimum monetary amount for delivery. Rey became instantly giddy when she heard the tip amount as it was more than what she’d accumulate in a typical week. Not wanting to take advantage, she had the woman repeat the amount in case she heard it wrong—she hadn’t. The only other instructions shared were Security will grant you access to the floor. Set it down and leave. It sounded easy enough.
Maz was excited—that’s the First Order building—she had been trying to get their business for a while. Rey didn’t know about the employees, but she knew the company was pure capitalist scum. Kaydel ended up being her roommate because of some upzoning game that was played, pricing her out of her previous building.
Nonetheless, Rey goes the extra steps to ensure it’s the best plain coffee ever to be made. She isn’t about to make the recipient pay for the company’s ruthless strategies. Even though they weren’t requested, Maz also adds a couple apple tarts which were her specialty.
“I won’t spill it, or get run over, or go to the wrong building,” Rey laughs, unused to Maz’s hovering. To pacify the older woman, Rey promises to text Maz after the delivery is complete since Rey would be heading home to her shared apartment rather than coming back to the shop.
When Rey arrives at First Order, she’s all business—as she is with every delivery. People rarely notice her… she gets in and gets out. She actually gets requested now by clients because some curriers apparently get unnecessarily chatty. Like Poe.
Not Rey. She just wants to do her job and keep moving.
Brandishing the delivery bag, Rey approaches security, asking for access to the floor specified. As the guy on shift punches some keys to validate her story, Rey can feel his eyes on her.
Rey knows she looks disheveled. She has on biker shorts with a loose, but fitted, tank over a sports bra. They’re name-brand at least; it had been a celebrated thrifting find. Notably weathered though, worn down even more by Rey’s occupation. Rey’s hair was pulled back into a ponytail as it was hot outside, but not enough to have Rey sweating. At the most, her face might look dewey. At the worst, a tad too flushed. Otherwise, she should be fine. Nothing to set off any alarms.
It doesn’t register at first, but eventually Rey realizes that the guy isn’t judging her—he’s checking her out. Embarrassed that she had been oblivious to it, her face heats up, turning pink if it wasn’t already.
Rey tries to be discreet and gives him a once over too. After all, she’s been single for what feels like forever. Kaydel tells Rey that she’s too picky. That she just needs to get laid. It’s easier said than done. Sure, Rey is on the pill; she stays on it because of her cramps. The bigger problem is that she never meets anyone and feels ‘that spark’.
The lack of potential partners (romantic or otherwise) doesn’t get Rey down; it’s easier to stick with fantasies anyways. They’re safe with no awkward morning after and void of any worries of being ghosted.
The security guy is cute, has a strong jawline and a fun name, Finn. He seems nice enough but like always, Rey doesn’t feel anything. It’s hard to imagine even kissing him. He seems to come to the same conclusion.
They still end up joking around, making tongue-in-cheek jokes when she learns she’s required to stow her cell phone in a thin, locked security bag that she can keep with her and then have unlocked when she returns back to the main floor.
She’s escorted to an elevator off to the side; it’s separate than the main ones. When she goes in, there’s only one button. She knows enough that this is the ‘special’ elevator for ‘special’ people. As it shoots up, floor after floor, Rey wonders how many employees have looked at this elevator wistfully, killing themselves to be special enough to step inside. Guess that means she’s special. Super-duper special.
The floor is eerily dead when she steps out. The lights are off but with all the windows, it’s still bright enough to see her way to the front admin desk. It’s so damn quiet that Rey finds herself tip toeing, staying quiet as a mouse. She sets the delivery down on the desk.
There.
It’s done.
Rey glances around; it is odd that nobody is around. Yes, it’s later in the day but don’t people have to work? She goes to leave, but ends up turning back around. This time she takes the coffee out of the delivery holder and ensures the tarts are arranged artistically.
There.
It looks nice. Appealing.
This time she almost makes it to the elevator before she stops again. More like she jumps.
“Goddamn it!”
It’s so loud and out-of-the-blue, Rey literally flies up in the air, back arched like a spooked cat. The curse was shouted in a male’s voice; he sounded more frustrated than angry. Like he’s having the most shitty day ever.
Maybe it’s because he doesn’t have his coffee?
Probably not, Rey scoffs to herself. Nobody gets that worked up about coffee.
Okay, they do. They really do. Rey’s seen it.
Her finger hovers over the down button, taking a moment to ponder delivering the coffee directly to this person.
She can hear him talking again. He’s not yelling anymore so Rey can’t really pick up any specific words. There’s no return voices so she deduces that he’s on the phone.
She shouldn’t interrupt him; the instructions said to set it down and leave. But, she argues with herself, if he’s on a call, that means he won't be able to come get his coffee. Then, when he does have a moment to retrieve it, the coffee will be old and cold and not at all a positive reflection of what can be expected from the Castle.
She should just take it to him. It'd only take a second and Rey has no problems going above and beyond for customers. This guy needs this. Needs something. She can feel it, oddly drawn to the energy in his distanced voice.
It’s gone quiet again by the time Rey is back at the desk; she snags the coffee and tarts, then aims in the direction she heard the yell. As she goes down the hall, it gets darker but there is a door open at the end with light softly spilling out. Drawing closer, she can hear jumbled voices in the background. They sound different, reinforcing that whoever is in that room is engaged on a call via some type of speakerphone.
Rey is confident in her decision to deliver the coffee personally, but she's still a little nervous when she first pops into the guy’s eyesight. He’s surprisingly young. Big and broad. He’s standing, his height undeniable, and there is a suit jacket hanging on the unused chair behind him. His tie is loosened, a button undone, and his sleeves are rolled up exposing his forearms. Nice, thick forearms. Her eyes trail up to his face and holy shit, dude is fine. As in her ovaries just exploded.
It’s not too hard to imagine that he’d be a goddamn beast in bed. He’s got an air of confidence that seems to permeate the room; just his mere presence demands respect. Rey would call him boss, daddy, sir, whatever the hell he wanted and say thank you after.
It hits Rey that she is still standing in the doorway—damn, she can’t remember a time she got distracted just looking at someone—and the man is beckoning her. Someone is talking on the end of the speakerphone and since Rey’s not sure if he’s muted, she lifts the coffee and package of tarts, trying to communicate that she has his order.
Annoyance flashes over his face and he gives a terse “That is not necessary.” in response to those on the phone. It also seems applicable to her when he issues a dismissive swipe in her direction after, demonstrating disinterest in the coffee.
It's borderline rude, but not really—considering she wasn’t necessarily supposed to go back here. Rey gives a professional nod of understanding back… No problem—she’ll set the coffee down and be on her way. She still has her tip and at home, she’s got a half of leftover casserole with her name on it.
Taking strides as if she belongs in a top-level suite as much as the angry man behind the desk does, she aims for the over-designed seating area off to the side.
It seems safe to assume that the man isn’t muting/unmuting himself… He speaks at will, currently rapid-firing a barrage of questions at someone, telling another to be quiet when they try to speak up. Nobody is going to hear a peep from Rey, that’s for sure. She’s silent. She’s quick. And within a short minute, the coffee is on a little table, the tarts beside it.
There.
Now she’s done.
It does seem odd not to say anything… but what would need to be communicated anyway? Enjoy your coffee. The apple tarts are delicious. I’m leaving now. There’s nothing necessary to voice. She heads back to the door she came in, not even looking in the hot, sexy man’s direction. In, out, that’s what Rey does.
Three steps in, she hears him clearing his throat. It sounds like he probably needs a glass of water more than coffee. She slows when he does it again. It couldn’t be for her—but when he does it a third time, she glances over her shoulder.
Oh.
He looks real worked up now and it’s all directed at her. Arms up in the air, he’s throwing Rey a look that practically screams What the hell? What the hell indeed? Confused what more he could possibly want, Rey gaze flickers around… There’s absolutely no contextual clues; the room is devoid of any personality. Not to mention, she doesn’t even know what she's looking for.
There’s obviously something that he wants her to do. She wonders if there are some bottles of water in the room. That could help him out. It’s a shame he’s up here by himself; he seems rather demanding, but considering the tip, Rey is unfazed. She’ll bring the angry man as many beverages he wants.
A smile breaks out when she spies a tray of down-turned crystal-looking glasses with a carafe of water with what looks like sliced cucumbers. So fancy, Rey assesses. Very nice. She pivots in its direction, ready to be the bestest coffee deliverer of all time, when the man clears his throat again.
“Are you dying?” Someone on the other side of the call is checking in on this man and all his throat noises. The inquiring guy doesn’t really sound concerned; it sounds more like a threat.
“My apologies, Snoke; something got stuck in my throat.”
“Why must we be subjected to your negligence?” It’s an ass question as much as it is a rhetorical one and Rey can’t help but want to be an ally for the guy who gets criticized for such an inconsequential offense.
The interaction also solidifies Rey’s assessment—the man needs water… yet… when Rey takes another step toward the gleaming carafe, the guy looks like he’s about to bust a gasket.
There’s no more throat noises; all sounds are off the table. Hand motions are still fair game though and there are a lot of razor-sharp movements being executed, gesturing down to his desk. He’s strangely intent about that piece of furniture. Or what is on it?
Rey pivots again, now having done a full in-place circle. She takes a couple of tentative steps toward him... When he starts nodding in double-time, his impatience and approval showing, Rey picks up her speed.
Each step is fueled by a growing curiosity, magnified by an unprecedented pull to this angry man. He’s hot, no question… Rey’s attraction to him is unparalleled, but there’s something else there. Admittedly, she doesn't know what it is. It's as much as a mystery as to what he wants.
Rey doesn’t mind spending a couple of more minutes to figure out at least one of them.