Chapter Text
There’s a picture he keeps in his office. Just the one. It sits on a nearby shelf, lined with law books, a succulent and a dazzling smile.
Framed. Dust free. The only bit of art he cares to display.
When colleagues stop by to question a matter, their eyes flick up to her like there’s some gravitational pull. Sometimes they ask about her – Ben’s girlfriend.
“Rey,” he always corrects.
They think he hates labels. In a way, Ben supposes he does.
He keeps a picture of her in his office. Keeps it folded in his wallet, too. Has it clipped to his car visor that always seems to be down these days.
To keep the ruse alive.
To make it truly believable.
To sell a lie.
The photo is simply a piece in the puzzle they’ve forced into place; a small part in playing pretend; her top-shelf smile in his office just circumstance.
Admittedly, a lovely one – Ben hasn’t looked elsewhere since taking her call.
“I was thinking we could leave a little earlier.” Her voice sounds deeper over speaker phone; distant, echoey, and slightly muffled with some rustling in the background. Because Rey’s always doing something. “The twenty-third, maybe, and get there in the afternoon?
“Sure,” he agrees, but she prattles on without pause.
“Poe’s hosting Friendmas on the twenty-fourth. He usually does a pub roast.” Miraculously, he holds his tongue. It’s just like Poe to host it at the local – nevermind the fact that Ben put on a three-course spread the year before, with his best laid out dining set and wine to pair. “Is that okay?”
Ben bites down on his cheek. “Fine. Yeah.”
“And I was hoping to stay longer. Until the second.”
“You want to stay for New Years?”
“For Finn’s birthday on the first.”
“Right,” he blows out slowly. “Am I coming to that?”
“If you want.”
“What do you want me to do, Rey?”
“Whatever you want to do, Ben.” Coming then. “Oh, and we’ll have to stay at yours. Maz has been hoarding like crazy this year. I don’t think there’s walkable space in any of her spare rooms.”
His body halts, muscles locking up. Slowly, he eases back into his desk chair, its drawn-out creak the only thing to fill the silence.
“Ben?”
“You want to stay with my parents?”
“Yeah,” she chirps. “Is that a problem?”
“We always stay with Maz.”
“She lives just over the fence, Ben. We’ll still see her—”
“It isn’t that. I don’t…” A sudden rap at his door pulls his gaze. Hux fills the frame, usual sneer in place, a pointed finger jabbing at the face of his watch. Ben waves him off with a sharp flick of his hand and watches him disappear – but not before glancing up at his shelf.
Something in his gut begins to sour. Stretching forward, Ben picks up the phone and takes it off speaker, bringing it up to his ear.
Quietly, he explains, “I don’t think I can pretend that long.”
Her laugh is loud and obnoxiously charming. “We literally do it year round.”
“Not in front of them. Not under their roof.”
“It’ll be fine.” The pace of his heartbeat says otherwise. “This lie has rhythm, y’know.”
“Whatever that means—”
“There’s a beat to it. It’s steady. We’re good at this.”
Three years too good, he thinks.
“We can talk about it later,” he dismisses, sucking in a breath. “Hey, how’s that application going?” The rustling on the line goes dead, and Ben can almost picture the sight – Rey freezing up on whatever she’s doing, lips parted while she scrambles for some form of defence. “You haven’t started.”
“I will,” she says quickly, tone a tad higher. “It’s just that tap in the bathroom, y’know? It’s been leaking for a few days now.” Suddenly, the echo makes sense. “I thought it would be a quick fix, but the hole is tiny. Can’t fit my hand through to fix the new one in place, so I have to drill away—”
“Power tools for a tap?”
“Or I could leave it,” she hums. “Just let the water bill rack up.”
“You mean the water I pay for?”
Rey huffs. “Just trust me. It’ll all work out.”
“Right. But the application?”
“A later problem.”
Ben holds his sigh. “It’s due tonight.”
“And it’ll be done by then. I just need to fix this. Should really do some laundry, too. Plus I’ll have to stop by the shops at some point—”
He presses the phone to his chest as his assistant pops her head in. “Your client’s in the foyer.”
“I’ll be there in a moment,” he tells Bazine, watching the double-take; the way her eyes flick back and forth between him and that damn shelf, all while hearing Rey’s far-away yapping.
She’s still going when he lifts the phone.
“—and dinner. I have to sort dinner. What do you feel like?”
“Forget about all of that. Just…” Ben breathes out a small laugh. “I’ll pick up something on the way home. Whatever you want. Just make a start on it, and I can look over it later.”
“I didn’t ask for your help!”
“Well maybe I want to help,” he snaps back. Ben closes his eyes, then softens his tone. “Just a grammar check. Nothing crazy. Okay?”
“Okay.” A pause. “Thank you.”
“You don’t need to—shit.” His eyes flick to the watch at his left wrist. “Hey, I have to run. I have a mediation with a client. Text through what you want for dinner, alright?”
“Will do.”
“I’ll see you soon,” he says, then waits for her to hang up first.
The line goes dead.
He pockets his phone, and stands from his desk, gathering his file and dictaphone.
Just before leaving, he walks to the shelf. Ben straightens the frame, and stares for a moment; taking in her bright eyes, her scrunched nose, and the smile that prompts his own lips to tilt up.