Chapter Text
“The worst crimes; are the crimes of the heart.” - Jane Austen
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Of course, it's not as easy as Luke said it would be. When is it ever? The building is five floors and the windows are dark so it's probably empty. She's got the key from Luke, but no clear plan. Luckily for Rey, a year working for him means she's good at slipping through the cracks. She's had plenty of practice.
Rey moves around some boxes, looking for the all-important filing cabinet that contains her mission - although that’s a pretty strong word for what is happening here. What’s a word that describes moderate to severe criminal activity for the sake of the greater good? Luke never took to her jabs about Robin Hood, but Rey wants to believe that what they do is different.
Did Luke say third or fourth floor? She sighs. It’s probably a bunch of documents she could reprint at the office. Luke is terrible with technology -
“Can I help you?” A deep voice cuts into the silence and Rey swears, hand pressing into her chest to stop her lungs from leaping out of her body.
“Jesus. Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to creep up on a woman, alone, at night ?” Her voice is cutting but her heart races as she turns to look at the source. He’s big. Like, a bit obscenely big, if you ask her. Rey totally knows the type, too. He’s from the same camp as all the other gym bros on Tinder who think working out constitutes a personality trait. Still, he’s got the height, she’ll give him that. Well, that and a certified case of Resting Bitch Face.
He mistakes her damning appraisal with fear, and he relaxes his stance as if to make her comfortable. Idiot.
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to break and enter?” The mystery man answers. Rey purses her lips.
“It isn’t breaking and entering if I have permission from the owner.” Rey steels herself, baiting this roid-head to give her an excuse to cause real trouble.
“Well, that seems unlikely. Since I am the owner.” His voice is cool, but his eyes have narrowed. Rey breaks into a small smile, relaxing slightly where she stands. She knows exactly who he is.
“So you’re Ben Solo. Troubled nephew and full-time squatter.”
“Who the fuck -” Ben steps towards her so she returns the threat, cutting him off with a wave of her hand as she steps forward too.
“I think I was pretty clear. You don’t own this building, but you have been squatting in it for the past few months. Luke’s talked about his loser nephew before, but it’s nice to have a face to the name.” She levels her gaze on him like he is last week’s trash.
He stares at her for a moment, and if Rey is gauging his reaction right, he’s caught between disbelief and rising anger. She may have pushed it a bit too far. Ben’s jaw clenches but he remains silent, staring at her as if he can see straight through to the other side.
They look at each other for a moment, unspeaking. Rey tenses on the balls of her feet, ready to spring to action should Mr. Muscle get any ideas.
After a long beat, he leans against the wall, face covered in shadow, “You must be the girl.” He says it more to himself than her, and she bristles.
“I have a name -” She is cut off by his huff of annoyance.
“I’ll stop you right there, Mary Poppins. I don’t know if Luke is hiring straight out of high school, or if you are some kind of make-a-wish situation, but I am working a job. A professional job. That someone has paid me to do. So why don’t you go back to Luke and let him know that I’ll be using this building for as long as I need it, and if he has a problem with that, he can come here and tell me himself.” Ben’s face is hard and focused and Rey can feel her blood boiling in her veins. Luke was right. He’s insufferable.
He glances at his watch, “Unless you’re going to be late for your curfew.” She’s shaking her head before she can stop herself.
Rey steps closer towards him, half-convinced she might strangle him to death with her bare hands, “Just so we’re clear. You don’t know the first thing about me. I’m older than I look, but you can bet your ass this baby face gets me out of trouble when I need it to, and I am also doing a job. A professional job. That someone has paid me to do,” she echoes his words back to him as she stands up against his towering form, arms crossing, “but since nuance and context seem to evade you, I’ll keep it simple; I don’t give a shit what you think as long as you stay out of my way.”
When he stares at her a second too long, she takes it as her cue to save some battles for another day.
“I’ll tell your uncle you said hi.” She adds before she makes her way down the stairwell and away from his looming form.
What an absolute dick.
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Luke rolls his eyes when Rey tells him what happened.
“Do you want me to remove him by force?” She asks, picking at her shorts and praying that Luke will say yes.
“Let’s let him simmer for a bit,” Luke pinches his nose. “Did he say what he was doing there?”
“He said he is working a job.” Rey’s gum snaps as the image of Mr. Muscle fills her vision.
Luke nods half-heartedly, “Figured as much, let’s go with plan B.”
Now it is Rey’s turn to roll her eyes. The thing is...Plan B isn’t that different from plan A, except plan B involves sneaking in instead of walking in, and evading Mr. Muscle instead of engaging with him. Rey dislikes this plan for a number of reasons, and even though she begs -
“Come on, Luke, you are taking all of the fun out of this!”
Plan B prevails.
Luke makes her wait over a week. A week of lost time, where Rey scopes out the building, scopes out the block and then scopes out the neighbourhood. It only takes half a day but she goes back for nine days straight. There is very little she can determine about Mr. Muscle’s schedule, but she has a plan. She’s ready.
“Listen, Rey. We have worked together long enough that you know when I mean something. So I’m hoping you know I mean it when I say I want you to steer clear of Ben.”
Ben. Not Mr. Muscle. “Is he some kind of secret assassin, or -”
“Or,” Luke answers, abrupt and cold.
Rey huffs in response, “Then why won’t you let me have a gun?”
“Because you don’t need it.” Rey groans and cracks her neck, frustrated, “If he’s such a Bad Guy, then why wouldn’t you want me to protect myself?”
“I don’t want you to hurt him,” Luke replies softly, lighting a cigarette and rolling his window down.
“I could leave the gun unloaded.” Rey counters.
“I don’t want him to hurt you.” Luke meets her eyes and she feels herself deflate. Alright. Fine. Cool.
“You win this time, old man.” She leans back in her seat and stares out into the night. It’s after 2 a.m., the streetlights dot the block and the occasional flicker of light makes her eye twitch.
“The package is in an old filing cabinet across from -”
“Across from the storage room on the fourth floor.” Rey finishes and smiles sweetly when Luke sends her a look.
“Text me. If I don’t hear from you within the hour I will send the cavalry in.” Luke takes a deep drag and Rey laughs.
“I’m sure Finn will be happy to know you hold him in such high regard.” Luke coughs more than he laughs but he still unlocks the car door and gives her his best get going face. For all intents and purposes, Finn is better than the cavalry, and he’s also her only backup. Rey steps out of the car and waves silently as Luke drives to the nearby diner.
Rey breathes in the night air and begins walking in the direction of Luke’s old building. There are a few windows that have been knocked out and Rey has noted a couple of good-looking entrance points. She hopes for his sake, that Ben (“Mr. Muscle” really suits him better though, doesn’t it?) is nowhere to be found.
Rey quietly lifts herself onto the dumpster near the building so she can climb up the pipe closest to her target window. The air is cool, and the slightest breeze makes a wave of goosebumps break over her skin. Her heart begins to pick up speed and she stands on the dumpster, still as a statue.
Is she nervous?
She hasn’t felt nervous...in a long time. It is a humbling feeling that sets her mind racing in time against her pulse. This isn’t even that dangerous of a job. And yet -
And yet.
Rey moves up the pipe and tries to leave her nerves in the alley as she slips through the window, quiet and without notice.
The building is still, and Rey doesn’t waste time. She quickly pulls out her phone and texts Luke’s number of the week.
On the porch
She quietly moves out of the room and begins to explore the second floor for signs of life. There are none that she can see, so she makes her way into one of the stairwells, light on her toes, ascending to the fourth floor with a staccato breath.
Rey opens the door and steps into the dark hallway, heartbeat loud in her ears. Filing cabinet. Filing cabinet. Filing cabinet.
“We have to stop meeting like this.”
That nearly familiar voice cuts through the air so fast that she can’t help the gasp that escapes her as she turns fast on her feet, facing the outline of one Mr. Muscle. He is standing in front of the stairwell door like he was always there, and she somehow walked through him the first time.
She can feel the prick of fear press into her fingers, her throat caught on nothing.
This is kind of the worst-case scenario. She spots a tie hanging from one of his fists and she sways on her feet as a pulse of terror in her blood sets her off balance. It’s black, the gunmetal grey and red accents barely noticeable in this light.
She needs to think. She needs to think fast.
Against any rational thought, she goes to the only place her mind will afford her in her state of panic.
“Hello, handsome.”