[She's so strange. Easier to read than Captain Phasma at times, but she runs so hot and cold it's easy for his mind to wander - assume the worst in quiet seconds where his mind doesn't know exactly how to settle. Maybe she's mad at him for prodding her, maybe she's having it rough and he's making it rougher, and if she gets too annoyed too quickly she might just-- nah. She wouldn't run out on BB-8, or rush back behind them to say hello to the First Order for the sake of a pile of junk.

--Would she?

He sits there for a moment longer, wiggling his fingers against his arms like a nervous tic beneath leather. Nothing disruptive, just the hum of his own internal engine starting up before he's ready to hit the gas. Figuratively.] Hey, I know it's a pain. It's been my life for too many years: watching for double agents, always checking my back.

But I promise, Rey, as soon as the First Order follows us away from Jakku-- forgets the mark they put on your head-- you can go home.