sekkritaus | Rex / Andy / Poe Freelance Heroes AU

[ She doesn't miss the gesture. The corner of her mouth quirks up ever so slightly as she accepts her mug from him and lifts it to her lips. ]

I'll give you one thing. [ Dryly: ] You really tempt a girl to stick the fuck around.

[ Her other hand lifts her cigarette to her mouth. ]

Might have to make this an overnighter.

[ He cocked an eyebrow, just one, looking far more smug. ]

Hey, you're welcome to it. I'll even make breakfast. Though fair warning, I'll be heading out pretty early for a job.

But until then, feel free to make use of whatever you want. [ A glimmer in his eye. ] Or whoever.

[ She shrugs noncommittally over another sip of caf. It isn't likely she'll still be around come breakfast time — she has her own job to get to, in the morning, and she isn't the type to linger once the sun's up — but there's no reason to spoil the mood. She kind of likes it when he looks all pleased with himself like that — as if making this particular notch on the bedpost is something to be proud of.

Dryly: ]

Shouldn't you be resting up for your gig? [ Says Andy, the hypocrite who clearly isn't concerned about resting before her own high-risk gig tomorrow. ] Or are you such a good pilot that you can fuck all night and still fly smooth?

I'm such a good pilot that we could fuck all night, gouge my eye out and remove and arm and I'd still fly better than 90% of the rest of the Galaxy.

[ Humble, much. ]

But hey. This counts as resting. Even if I wasn't planning on making you cum so hard that you pass out.

[ She rolls her eyes a little, but there's a faint upward turn in her mouth that betrays her amusement. It's almost a shame she's not going to get to see him fly. Either he really is that good, or he's terrible, with no possibility of it being anything in between — and given the way he fucks? Probably the former. ]

Think I'd rather have you with both eyes and both arms. [ She finishes off her caf before setting the mug down on the counter and dousing her dwindling cigarette in the scant liquid remaining at the bottom. ] Seems like my chances of cumming so hard I pass out are slightly better that way.

[ They had, in the end, passed out - naked on Poe's slightly-too-small bed, the blanket tangled up in their feet. Poe only woke up because BB-8 whistled an alarm for him, from the hall.

It was still fucking early, but he groaned and dragged himself out of bed, fumbling around for his pants. ]

You want food? I've only got about twenty minutes before I gotta start getting ready for this gig, but I can heat something up for you.

[ Andy isn't usually one to sleep in after a one night stand, but to be fair, it feels like she got off about half a dozen times between the alley and his bed, so if she's a little slower to rise than normal, she can't really be blamed. It takes her a few extra minutes to get out of bed, all tousled hair and bleary eyed. Fuck. Speaking of gigs — ]

Can't stay.

[ Her voice is still a little rough from sleep when she answers, wandering around looking for where her clothes ended up. In the interest of time, she ends up borrowing a shirt without asking, pulling on her jacket over it and doing a bit of a hop-and-tug to get her trousers on. Her fly's still down when she starts heading for the ramp, smoothing her hair back into some semblance of a ponytail as she goes.

She almost blows right by him but — hell. Something makes her pause. She looks at him a second, then leans in to press a fleeting kiss to his mouth. ]

See you around, hot shot.

[ An ironic choice of words, maybe, considering she never plans on seeing him again. ]

[ He grins, content with the kiss, though he leans in to grab her waist before she can escape. ]

Careful there, [ He murmurs, zipping up her fly and then giving her a friendly smack on the ass. ] Don't want them to catch you with your pants down.

[ He gives a casual salute as he steps back. ]

Catch you later, hot stuff.

[ Once she was gone, he called out for BB-8 and immediately began running checks over the ship. Half an hour later he was back on the streets, a darker jacket on and a scarf around his throat and mouth as he blended into the crowd. The meet point was an old house, abandoned, and he slipped inside with the password to go meet whoever else he was supposed to go with on this mission. The room was empty when he arrived, or at least he thought it was, before he noted the figure in the corner. ]

Hey. Dameron. I'm the pilo--

[ Only as his eyes adjusted to the light he recognized her and blinked stupidly. ]

Uh--

[ It's a dimly lit space, and she's got her hood up, but there's the warm glow from the tip of her cigarette to cast a little light on her distinctive features — that unforgivingly straight nose, those sharp dark eyes, hard to forget even if they hadn't spent most of last night inches from each other's faces.

She looks up at the sound of his voice, meets his gaze for one long stunned second, and abruptly turns away with a cough as she chokes on smoke. ]

What the f— [ This is not how this is supposed to go. Did he just say he's the pilot? She's fucked up. Shit. Shit. ] What the hell are you doing here? [ Even though she knows the answer to that question. It all makes stupid sense now: Same fucking gig. ] No. We're not doing this. No way in hell.

I'm the pilot. [ He repeats, a little louder, in case it was her hearing that was the problem. (He knew it wasn't.) But he was bristling already. ]

What? Hey, look, I signed up for this gig weeks ago, and it's not getting off the ground without me, so, just settle down.

Fine. Then I fucking quit.

[ As if she could. Like there aren’t contracts involved and money paid up front. Bad enough that she’s got a bounty on her head already - the last thing she needs is a reputation for bailing on her jobs too. Everybody wants to hire a Scythian - but nobody likes a thug who doesn’t follow through. Lose-lose. She doesn’t know what to do about this. Her rule is one night only. No names. No nothing. Definitely no working together afterwards. How the hell is she supposed to concentrate with him around anyway?

Fuck.

Andy sinks into a crouch with her arms hanging loosely in defeat over her knees and her head bent as she groans in frustration. ]

There has to be a couple dozen pilots on this planet alone. They couldn’t have picked a different one?

Because I'm the best one. [ A little testily, and a little hurt. He'd actually been hoping to see her again, but her reaction wasn't the one he was expecting.

Fucking damn it. He should have pegged it when she refused the whole names thing. His expression darkened. ]

No one else on this rock can do what we'll need to do - probably no one else in this sector. And of the handful of guys that could try it, none of them are stupid enough to.

[ He crossed the room to where someone had left a caf pot brewing, and poured himself a cup. ]

So get over it, hot stuff. You're stuck with me.

[ To say that she absolutely didn't want to see him again wouldn't be completely honest — but she knows how she is. She knows that she has to stick to her stupid shitty rules to keep herself safe. And this is fucking it all up.

She rubs a finger between her eyebrows for a second before sighing wearily, standing up with some effort and approaching to pick up a mug for herself. One hand holds her cup out expectantly while the other lifts her cigarette back towards her mouth — a familiar sight, maybe, after that morning, though her mood is definitely more sour now than it was then. ]

Fuck it. We'll probably die anyway.

[ He looked at her cup, and very nearly refused to pour her one out of pure pettiness, the hesitation obvious, but then he grunted lowly and reached over to pour it out. ]

That's the spirit. [ Extremely mildly. When her cup was full, he put the thing back where it had come from and then turned to lean against the counter, nursing his cup. ]

Why the hell do you think I was looking for such a thorough last meal, otherwise?

How the hell was I supposed to know? It's not like I asked.

[ That's a rule too. Don't ask questions. Don't get to know them. Not knowing shit about a person makes it harder to give a damn about them.

She gives him a ornery little look over the rim of her cup as she sips at her caf. ]

You could've just been the kind of reckless asshole who fucks like that every night.

Who the hell gets to fuck like that twice in their life, let alone every night?

[ The tone was frustrated and sharp, and it took him a couple of seconds to register that technically it was a compliment. He huffed, and took a drink to stall. ]

Whatever, it was fun, it's done, we're fucking professionals.

[ She rolls her eyes a little, taking another drag off her cigarette before responding a bit pointedly: ]

Guess you're lucky I'm still walking straight, because I'm all you've got at your back today, babe.

[ Yes, very professional. ]

[ That got his attention. ]

What, seriously? I was told I'd be getting a runner and a gunner.

Did you fuck the other one, too, and then force them to quit?

[ Super duper professional. ]

I'm your runner. And your gunner. I'm good like that.

[ She makes a little face at him. ]

When the hell would I have had time to fuck somebody else anyway? I've been with you since I fucking got to this shitty planet.

It's not like you told me when you got here, hot stuff. [ He pointed out, a little grumpily.

He tipped the rest of his caf back, wiped his mouth, then put the cup down, ducking to look under the counter. He felt around, and sure enough - magnetized to the top of the container - he found the packet of credits and instructions, and he opened them up. ]

Right, well, I hope you're as good as you say you are, because it's not like I've got any crew. [ He grumbled mostly to himself. ]

Money's all here, so. We're off to a different shitty planet.

I'm better. [ Flatly: ] I never tell them how good I really am. I don't like high expectations.

[ She finishes off her caf too, setting her cup down beside his before coming over to join him. ]

Fuck. If I'd known I'd end up on your damn ship again, I would've had breakfast. [ A sigh. ] Come on, hot shot. Let's get this over with.

[ The job went... Okay, so well wasn't a word that could really be used here. It was a suicide mission, they'd both known that going in. As cocky as Poe was about it, a large piece of him had taken the job because it might offer a glorious death. At least if he died doing it, no one would hear about it and say "what a lame way to die".

It wasn't until years later that he realised without Andy, he probably would have. Not because of her incredible skill, or because he was less reckless - but because having her there had given him a reason to get through it, rather than seek the blaze of glory. He was still stupidly reckless, but he was being reckless to get them both out of there.

They'd had to split up - racing through half abandoned city streets in a rainstorm of blaster fire, the heat making him sweat so much that his clothes all stuck to his skin. He reached the ship before he did - even had the payload with him, since she's been covering his ass. He could take off. He'd be more likely to survive - every passing minute giving the Empire more opportunity to have ships blink into the sky and shore up the blockade.

But he couldn't.

So instead a few moments later, Black One suddenly nearly landed on her, guns blazing to take out those she hadn't had the time to pick off, the ramp already half lowered. As soon as her feet touched the ramp it started to close, nearly throwing her into the hull of the ship at they rocketed upwards. The blockade was shoring up, only a single gap in the fleet that couldn't be caught by tractor beam, and Poe threaded it like a needle, slamming the jump to hyperspace barely a second after they were clear.

He gave an excited woop, and immediately leapt from his chair, dashing out of the cockpit straight to where she was, and smacked a firm, sudden kiss right on her lips. ]

Did you see that? [ He asked with a heady, breathless demand. ]

Shit, you are fucking amazing.

[ There was one brief moment when she thought she might actually die on this shitty fucking planet — one moment, before Black One and its cocky ass pilot came in from above. He really should have left her behind — especially after all the shit she gave him that morning — but she doesn't complain about the rescue either. It's almost a relief to slide in on the ramp and tumble roughly inside. Maybe she wasn't so ready to die today after all — though who can really say why. But there's an odd sort of thrill in surviving, a high that keeps her heart beating a little fast even once they're in hyperspace.

She meets him halfway when he comes to kiss her, huffing out an amused little breath that might have been a laugh if she'd been the type to try a bit harder. ]

Yeah, I saw it, you fucking show off. Think you were cutting it a little close there?

[ She can admit this: If it's an exaggeration to say that he's the best pilot in the galaxy, it isn't one by much. It's been a long time she she's seen flying like that. And honestly? It's kind of hot. Kind of puts a girl in the mood — even though they're both covered in grim and sweat and whatever the hell else. Either way, she's in no hurry to pull away. ]

And I told you I was good, didn't I? [ A little dryly: ] Just because I'm a sloppy fuck doesn't mean I can't do my job as well as you do yours.

No one else would have been able to get there any faster. [ He looked smug despite her teasing, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her close, despite the fact that he was still drenched and muddied and bloodied. That was what freshers were for. ]

You are not a sloppy fuck, [ He pointed out, leaning in to press a kiss to her throat. ] but sure - I definitely underestimated your ability. I won't make that mistake a second time.

[ She lets him pull her in close — only to press her hand flat against his chest and shove him up against the bulkhead, closing that small distance quick so she can nudge her thigh between his. Apparently she doesn't mind the mud and blood. ]

What makes you think there's going to be a second time?

[ Honestly, she should be mad he even brought up the possibility — or at least make a show of being mad. But her heart's still beating fast from their escape, and the reckless part of her just wants to ride that high as long as it lasts. It's been a long time since she's felt this good. So her words lack the bite of a real reprimand — the edge is a mocking one, taunting instead of scolding. When she smiles, it's just a little mean. ]

You figure you're gonna convince me to stick around or something?

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