If there was anything more embarrassing than being forced to train with Samuel Foster for one month, you couldn't think of what it could be. The bright side was that you weren't assigned to the Command Shuttle. But not being assigned to the Command Shuttle was an essential demotion. Every move you made was monitored by your former colleague--now boss.

"How's it going, bud?" he asked, hovering over your shoulder. You could feel his eyes scanning your work.

You sighed and faced him. "Sam, do you seriously have to micro-manage me like this? It's driving me nuts."

Sam blushed and stepped back. "Oh... jeez. You're right. I'm sorry."

"Do you think I'm an idiot, or something?" you asked.

"No! No!" he said, holding up his hands. "I just... You made a really big mistake up there. It's not like you."

You narrowed your eyes. "Yeah, dude. I know. Thanks for reminding me."

He pulled up a stool and sat next to you. "You still haven't told me what happened."

"Ugh," you said, dragging your fingers down your face. "Why do you keep asking?"

"Because," he said, placing a hand on your knee. Your cheeks lit up. "I'm a little worried, I guess."

A hard lump congealed in your throat. You couldn't tell him what had happened with Kylo Ren. You couldn't tell anybody what had happened with Kylo Ren. Like the time you sucked his dick like it was the elixir of life. Or in the mess hall last week when he made you cum so hard you saw galaxies. You hadn't seen him since then. You hated that he did this to you and went on as if you didn't exist--as if you were nothing. You hated that you continued thinking about him at all.

"I screwed up. That's all there is to it." You pushed his hand from your knee.

"I've never seen you do something like that, though," Sam said, frowning and crossing his arms.

You laughed bitterly, remembering Ren's words. "There's a first time for everything." You left your seat, jaw tight, and busied yourself with the busted cannon you had been working on. Anything other than continuing that conversation.

The cannon was blanketed in black ash from the laser shot it had taken a few days ago. The pilot claimed that he had been hit by a Resistance fighter, but there hadn't been a report about any foreign ships for days. You took a finger and smudged away a bit of the ash, bringing it up to your face to examine it. Flecks of emerald light flickered in the soot. A grin split your face--the glint of green dust was a sure sign of a TIE fighter cannon. The pilot had probably done something stupid enough to manage hitting himself with his own weapon.

"Sam!" you called from under the cannon. "This is definitely a TIE fighter shot."

Sam got up, shaking his head. "No way," he replied. "I just looked that over. It came from an X-Wing."

Your hand curled into a fist as you stalked over to him, presenting your ash-covered finger. "No, look at this," you said. "Green dust. TIE fighter."

"Green dust can come from the exhausts of freighters," he said, pushing your arm down. "Not that it matters anyway."

A familiar heat was building in your face. "Uh, it kind of does matter," you replied. "If he shot himself, then we have to go through an entirely separate billing procedure."

"Well, that would matter if it had come from a TIE fighter. But it didn't. It came from an X-Wing. The heat markings left--"

"Dude, there were no unfamiliar craft identified within radar distance when he was shot!" you said, grabbing for his data pad. You were right. You knew you were right.

Sam's eyes widened as he tugged back on the pad, brow furrowing when you wouldn't let it go. "Look, you're training under me right now, and--"

You balked. "Okay then!" you said, shoving the data pad into his chest, knocking him off-balance. "Forget it, then, Sam. Okay? Forget it. I'm taking the rest of the day off. Have fun." You stomped off, tears stinging your eyes as your hands balled up so tightly that blood drained from your knuckles.

Sam called after you, but his voice was drowned by the tsunami of rage inside of your head. You wanted nothing more than to leave a black eye on his stupid pretty face, your cheeks on fire as you replayed what he had said over and over again. You're training under me. You're training under me. Sam knew how much this job meant to you, and knew how embarrassed you were about what had happened. His insensitivity despite all of that drove knives into your chest. Maybe everything about this assignment was a mistake.

Your feet carried you back to your quarters before your mind realized where you were. The water in your eyes was falling fast, and you couldn't focus enough to unlock the door. You collapsed against it, sobs wracking your ribs. Between Kylo Ren and Sam, you had never felt more unwanted and alone in your life.

A voice calling your name pierced the fog washing over you. You turned, hiding your face with your hands. It was Sam--red-faced, out of breath. You swallowed and wiped your eyes and nose with your sleeve. "What do you wan--"

Sam cut you off, smothering your mouth with his own as he gripped the sides of your head. Your eyes popped open, your body a board. The heat inside of you was morphing from embarrassment to... something else. You sucked in a breath through your nose as you kissed him back, your limbs liquefying against him.

He released you, leaving your lips buzzing. His eyes were leaping across your face. "Uh... sorry... I just..."

You smirked and snagged the front of his uniform, pulling him into you again. You moaned into his mouth as you slid your tongue between his teeth, wrapping your arms around him. Sam was exploring your body--feeling out every curve, testing your reaction. He was tender, your frame fragile in his hands. Your hand tangled itself in his curly golden hair, and, without thinking, you tugged on it--hard.

Sam flinched. "Ow!" he said, pulling away and rubbing the aching spot on his head.

Gasping, you took his hand. "Oh, Gods, Sam! I'm sorry!" You kissed your palm and patted the spot, as if your affection were a salve. "I just... I got a little excited..."

He smiled and winked. "Didn't know you were into stuff like that."

Blush reddened your cheeks. He wouldn't want to know what else you were into. "Well, uh, hey. I'm full of surprises." You bit your lip, gliding your hand down his arm.

"I can see that," he replied. His gaze fell to the ground. "I have to get back to work, but... I'm sorry. Seriously. Take the rest of the day off. My fault for being a jerk. Won't happen again."

You nodded, grinning. "Hmm, I think I've already found it in my heart to forgive you. But thanks. I will."

A sigh escaped him, his shoulders rolling back. "Okay. Awesome. I'll... uh, I'll catch you tomorrow?"

"I'll be there at seven-hundred."

"Cool. I'll... I'll see you then." He fumbled with your hand, and settled on squeezing it. "Later."

"Bye," you replied, smirking as you watched him leave. His butt still looked fantastic. You unlocked your door and kicked your shoes off as you shut it behind you.

Your heart was soaring over the entirety of Starkiller. It wouldn't have surprised you if was approaching the outer atmosphere. Since the day you met Sam, you'd adored him, but had always figured that he'd be interested an amorphous person you had created who was "better." The fact that someone like him--smart, kind, successful, hot as hell--had kissed you? You buried your face in your pillow as you attempted to conceal your joy.

The feeling stayed with you throughout the rest of the day, into the night, when you attempted to get one off to the thought of Sam. But every time that you passed the point of kissing, images of Kylo Ren--his smooth, warm hands, your name falling from his mouth--interrupted you.

It wasn't until you gave up and tried to fall asleep that you felt your brain being crushed, ears ringing out of your skull. Your pulse went skyward, recognizing the pressure of Kylo Ren--but seconds passed, and then minutes, and then an hour--silence. At some point, your exhaustion evolved into sleep.

--

The next morning, you practically skipped to your assignment, unable to shake the smile from your face. You saw Sam seated at the diagnostic terminal, already scrolling through his data pad to organize today's tasks. He turned at the sound of your footsteps, a flush creeping across his face. The boiling question of an undefined relationship hung between you.

"Hey," he said.

You shrugged. "Hey. What's on the agenda for today?"

The haze of affection in his eyes vanished. "Oh!" he said. "Actually, it's a good thing you're here. Walk-through today. In, like, thirty minutes."

The thumping in your heart might as well have been broadcast across the base. "Oh," was all you could say.

He rolled his eyes, patting your shoulder. "It'll be fine. Promise." He returned to the terminal and tapped through the screens. "By the way, you were right. That pilot shot himself."

Your jaw dropped and you bellowed with laughter, your lungs sucking in the air of victory. "Ha! I told you! I freakin' told you, you jerk!"

"Guilty, guilty," he replied, raising his hands. "Won't doubt you again."

"Better not," you said, winking. "Now help me clean up."

He nodded, and the two of you organized the workspace, making it appear as if no one had done any work there in the past month. Why that was judged to be superior to a functional-looking area, you didn't know.

Voices across the docking bay rose and then fell, signaling the entrance of Hux and Ren. A rock weighed on your chest as you stood straight next to Sam, wanting to look as compliant as he did. You fixed what could be fixed of your hair, smoothed out your uniform, and clipped your heels together.

Sam took one of your trembling hands. "Don't be so nervous," he whispered.

It was hard to take his advice when you saw Hux and Kylo Ren round the corner, making their way toward your area. Ren's robes fluttered around his body, his stride longer than you remembered. As you felt Sam's blood pulse through his hand, you mind raced back to Kylo Ren holding your mouth open, his thumb crooked onto your tongue, his fingers digging into your cunt. You shuddered, your thighs clenching together. Gods, you hated him.

"Relax," Sam said again, and squeezed your hand.

You nodded, realizing that Sam was right. You tried desperately to clear your mind, recalling what Ren had said about hearing your thoughts. Relaxing was paramount--but between Sam holding your hand and the steady approach of the General and Commander, you were about to fall to pieces.

Kylo Ren's pace slowed as he closed in on you. Sam's grip on your hand tightened, and your stomach flipped, thinking back to when he kissed you--a thought you instantly regretted as you caught Kylo Ren's fingers flexing in and out of fists. He spat your last name--another thing you hadn't known he knew. What you did know is that he saw Sam drop your hand as he approached.

"Do you make it a habit to fraternize with your supervisors?" he said, his body a wall in front of you and Sam.

You couldn't believe he was asking you that question. Unable to hold back your indignity, you replied, "I don't know. Do I, Commander?"

Sam coughed. "Ah! She's just nervous, sir," he said, shooting you a glare.

"Right. Just nervous, Commander," you said, cocking an eyebrow, daring him to call you out on your lie.

Ren's chest inflated, his hand darting to the lightsaber at his side. Before you had a chance to react, he ignited it, and the hot red blade crackled to life. He raised it above him as if to slice through your head, and you shut your eyes and screamed, barely cognizant of Sam catching your arms and ripping you away. But Kylo Ren hadn't been aiming for you--his victim was the diagnostic terminal, which, as you opened your eyes, you noticed was now severed in half, birthing waves of sparks onto the floor.

You were shaking in Sam's arms, wide eyes trained on the mass of dark robes in front of you. Kylo Ren spun around, killing his saber and replacing it on his hip. The black hole in his mask was tearing into your chest, shattering the world around you, leaving behind only Kylo Ren and his wretched, expressionless mask.

"Just know that I heard you," he said, before turning and taking the storm of fury and fear with him.

Hux wasn't far behind Ren, leering blaster bolts into your eyes. "I was under the impression you were fixing this problem, engineer," he said. Did he still not know your name?

"General, sir," Sam said, stepping forward. "This was my fault. Direct any punishment at me."

"Foster," the General said, looking between the two of you. "Watch yourself. And keep an eye on her." He frowned before marching in Kylo Ren's direction.

"Guess I have to keep an eye on you," said Sam, trying to kill the tension. He grinned. "I wonder what Commander Ren was talking about, huh?"

But you couldn't return his smile. You knew what Kylo Ren had been talking about. The burning inside your skull before you had fallen asleep. The fists at his sides. He knew you had kissed Sam. And that you went on to disrespect him in front of Sam. His words echoed inside of your head.

I have to destroy you.

You hated that you couldn't wait.