Chapter Text
“I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” Finn says, his hand on Bea’s thin shoulder. He hasn’t mentioned her shirt, with the tag on the back instead of neatly tucked inside like it should be. “You said he had a meeting tonight, right?”
“A big one,” Bea grumbles, sounding distinctly less chirpy than usual. Her curly hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail today, held in place with at least two bright plastic ball elastics and a small army of Frozen hairclips in varying shades of pink. She cranes her head backwards to look up at Finn. “He promised to take me to the park!”
“Then I’m sure he will,” Finn smiles, trying to keep the sadness and concern out of his expression. Bea loves her Dad. Loves him. She talks about him all the time, draws countless pictures of them together. Half her stories with “Well my dad said—" and end with because dad said so.
But the last few weeks haven’t spoken to an attentive father: her inside out shirt, the late pickups every few days, the lunches consisting of only pizza. Rey has her physics classes at the community college in the evening, so Finn is always the one to stick around with the kids.
It’s better than going home alone to his tiny apartment.
When the little bell over the classroom door finally rings (Rey is considering removing it because the kids like to push it over and over) it’s approaching 4 and Bea is starting to fall asleep against his arm, murmuring to herself about the park and the swings and promises.
Her dad doesn’t usually come in. Usually, Bea runs outside to meet him and gets swallowed up in a black Honda that looks like it’s seen better days, chattering a mile a minute to the small figure who moves to help her into the back. Curly black hair, like Bea’s, and a tan leather jacket, and then he’s gone again into his car.
Now he’s standing in the doorway and those black curls are everywhere, and he looks exhausted with shadows ringing his eyes. Somehow he still kind of looks like he stepped off a movie poster or something, with the jacket draped over his shoulder and a half-turned little smile on his lips.
“Uh—" he says, half in the door, eyes flicking between Finn and Bea, who bolts up with a shriek of “Dad!”
“Hey, kiddo,” He catches her up as she bolts at him, dropping to his knees to wrap his arms around her. “Sorry I’m late.”
Bea wriggles back out of his hold, eyes wide and serious, and puts both hands on his shoulders. “Are we still going to the park?”
By the look on his face he hadn’t remembered that particular promise. “Uh— you really still wanna go? It’s kind of late."
“Dad,” Bea’s eyes narrow. He winces. Her voice gets softer. “You promised.”
“I know, Bea-Bea,” he sighs, quietly, then hugs her close one more time and pushes himself up. “We’ll go. I did promise.” he aims a smile at her. Bea whirls around to beam at Finn.
“Thank you very much for staying with me!”
Finn only barely registers that she’s talking to him. His eyes are focused on her dad. Even the bags under his eyes don’t detract from the incredibly gorgeous face in front of him, on top of a taut, muscular body.
When Bea leans in with a weird look on her face, Finn blinks.
“Oh, right. Of course. I’ll, uh,” Finn’s eyes flick back to her dad, then quickly away again, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Just when she turns to leave, he adds, “mind if I borrow your dad for a second?”
“But the park—" Bea starts, but her dad puts a hand on her head, making her look up and frown. “Don’t take too long!”
“Thanks, Bea,” her dad says quietly, eyes on Finn. Bea huffs at him and goes to bounce by the door while he aims a tired smile at Finn and shifts closer. “Thanks for watching her. Sorry for…” he waves a hand in the general direction of his car outside, grimacing.
“That’s actually what I’d like to ask you about,” Finn says quietly, not loud enough for Bea to hear. “I know I don’t know you, and you don’t know me, but is everything alright at home? Bea seems happy, but disheveled and, I mean,” Finn coughs, glancing at the door. His face feels hot. “I’m Finn Williams. One of her teachers. I should have started with that.”
“Poe. Dameron. You, uh," Poe pushes his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more, and grins at Finn. “Probably already knew that. I meant to come in and meet you months ago. She talks about you a lot.”
Finn can’t help a smile, his eyes tracking Poe’s fingers. He swallows. “She’s a great kid. All the more reason why I’m worried.”
Poe bites his lip and glances back at his daughter, who’s moved onto talking quietly to herself by the door, making something imaginary fly with her hands. A tiny smile creeps onto Poe’s lips, then drops again as he sighs. “Yeah, it’s been hectic for a while,” he turns to Finn again, worry clear on his face. “Has she said anything? Is she alright?”
“Yes,” Finn says, and somehow his hand is on Poe’s arm. He’s strong and muscled under his jacket and wow, Finn’s mouth is watering a bit. Hold it together, he tells himself. With a shaky breath, he says, “she’s alright. But her shirt is inside-out and she’s had pizza every day this week. Which she loves, and talks about loudly, but that doesn’t seem like a good sign.”
“Her shirt?" Poe repeats, half-twisting to look at her, and yeah, there’s the little tag sticking out while Bea spins in a lazy circle. Poe’s face twists. “Damn. Pizza every day?”
“Yeah,” Finn frowns, “aren’t you the one packing her lunches? She never talks about a mother,"
Poe shoves his hand over his face, slumping all at once, and peeks at Finn from over the tops of his fingers. “No, no mom, just me.” his voice is muffled by his palm. “Didn’t realize it’d been all week long.”
Finn nods, unable to hide the sympathy on his face. “Is there anything you need help with? For her.”
“Cooking lessons,” Poe mutters under his breath, wincing. He drops his hand away from his face to smile brightly (if a little tiredly) at Finn. “Thanks for looking out for her like that. That’s really great of you.”
“I—” Finn starts, but Poe’s smile throws him off, his breath catching in this throat. Finn’s hand is still on his arm.
Poe glances down at it and blinks, then looks back up at Finn with glittering eyes. “Well, I won’t tell Bea-Bea you’re the reason she’s not getting pizza for lunch every day next week.”
“I appreciate that,” Finn smiles broadly. “Thanks. Do you know how to cook?”
Poe’s grin goes sheepish. “I know how to make food. Wouldn’t really call it cooking. Working on it.”
“Last year my birthday cupcakes were burnt!” Bea pipes up from beside him, having crept closer to tug on her dad’s jacket. “We had to buy them.” Poe flushes and ruffles her ponytail, making her squeal and back away.
“Burning cupcakes,” Finn shakes his head, mock-disappointed. “That’s a cardinal sin. How could you?” He glances at Poe with a flicker of a smile. Poe grins back, a flash of white teeth and strange relief, like maybe he thought Finn really was judging him for burning the cupcakes.
“I’m a terrible father,” he laughs, and whirls to sweep Bea, backpack and all, up into his arms. “Woah! You’re getting heavy, kiddo." Bea mushes at his face with one hand.
“I am not! Are you done talking to Mr. Finn yet? I want to go to the park before it gets too dark! Oh, that rhymed," laughing, Poe turns back to Finn, hefting Bea even as she squirms to try and get higher.
“Seriously, thank you. Promise she’ll have acceptable lunches next week. D’you,” He stops, warm eyes flicking over Finn’s face, and shakes his head with a smile. “Nah. Nevermind.”
Finn wants to ask, he really does, but he has no place with his student’s parent, even if that parent is insanely gorgeous. Instead, he says, “if you do need help, let me know.”
“I will,” Poe promises while Bea waves from his shoulder with her gap-toothed little grin.
oh my god. have you seen Bea’s dad? holy shit. Finn texts Rey as soon as they leave, collapsing in the story circle on a pile of mats.
Poe Dameron, right? He’s a sweetheart. Rey is actually a studious person, both in her own classroom and in the ones she’s still attending, so she must be really bored to be actually texting him back so quickly.
yeah. sweet. and jesus christ he’s gorgeous Finn grins, his head dropping against Mr. Rabbit. Rey is definitely laughing at him, somewhere halfway across the city in her little community college classroom.
Did he charm you right out of your sweatervest?
i wish. Finn sends and holds his phone against his chest, heart thudding dully. “Shit.”
“Finn,” Rey’s voice filters through the thin wood of his door, “Open the door or I’m breaking it open. You know I can.”
Finn glances up from his book, eyes flicking to his phone, blinking and ignored on the table next to him. “Shit,” he mutters, carefully placing his bookmark into place. “Sorry!”
Quickly, he drops his nearly-dry towel and grabs a pair of basketball shorts, tugging them on. He unlocks the three locks on his door and opens it, blinking in the bright sunlight. “Hey. Sorry. I went running. Didn’t check my phone.”
Rey’s in her usual weekend outfit of yoga pants and a shirt loose enough to accommodate both flying and her martial arts lessons. She cocks a brow at him, eyes flicking down to his shorts and bare feet and back up. “Running outside, at least?”
“Yes,” Finn rolls his eyes and steps back to let her in. “Outside. In the open air. With shoes. The whole thing.”
“Did you talk to anyone?” Rey toes her shoes off as soon as she gets in the door. It’s a remnant of her desert upbringing, she’s told him, so that sand didn’t get tracked into the only place they were mostly without it. “Besides me, over text?”
“No. I don’t talk to people when I run. Oh!” Finn grins and tugs on the first shirt he finds, one with Elmo on the front. “I did meet this corgi. And her mom. God, corgis are so damn cute. I talked to her mom for a little bit.”
“Good!” Rey cheers as she flops down onto his bed. “You should get a dog. Might brighten up your life a bit. Get a corgi.”
“In this apartment?” Finn says, glancing around at the room. That’s all it is: one room, with a bed, a table, and a small kitchen. “Poor dog.”
“Poor you.” Rey sits up again, giving him a pointed look. “Come on, get dressed in real clothes. We’re going out.”
“We are?” Finn asks, unable to hide his grimace before she catches it.
“We are.” Rey says in her best ‘I am the teacher and you will listen to me Or Else’ voice. It’s scarily effective. “Because you haven’t been in too long and if I look at my physics papers any longer I’m going to die. Right there on top of them.”
Finn stares at her for a minute, then sighs in defeat. “Fine. Where are we going?” Beaming at him, Rey bounces up off his bed in one smooth, impossible moment and heads straight for his closet.
“Not anywhere with too many people,” she tells him over a pair of dark jeans she tugs from the folded pile to throw at him. “There’s an Ethiopian restaurant downtown. Uncle Luke recommended it.”
Finn catches them, then pushes past her to grab a pair of underwear, bright yellow and tight. “I have to dress up and you get to wear spandex?” She waves a dismissive hand at him.
“Keep the shirt! It’s cute,” she grins. “We’re stopping by my place first.”
“So hanging out with you counts as social interaction now?” Finn asks from the bathroom, his pants hanging open as he fixes his hair in the shining mirror.
Rey pokes her head into the bathroom. “I can always invite Ben.”
Finn chokes and shoots a glare at her. “Fuck no. Christ. Are you still talking to him?” Snorting, she comes in to hop up on the counter beside him.
“No! Someone from tae kwon do did text to ask if we wanted to meet up later tonight, if you’re interested.”
“I,” Finn hesitates. All he has waiting for him tonight is the rest of his book, which is dry and slow and not at all what he was promised from his intense sleuthing of GoodReads. He meets her eyes and smiles, just a little. “Sure. Why not.”
Monday morning, Bea shows up without shoes on her feet.
“Bea,” Finn gently grips Bea’s shoulder, pulling her away from Rey’s lecture on Christopher Columbus’ tyrannical oppression of the native American people. She looks confused, but he jerks his head at the hall, “come on, let’s talk outside.”
“But—" Bea twists her head around, but at Finn’s Look she droops and nods. His hand slips into hers and he leads Bea out into the hallway. “Ari promised me his carrots and if I take too long he’ll eat them!”
Finn sucks in a breath, then lets it out slowly. He drops down so he’s at her level, crouched on his toes. “Where are your shoes, Bea?”
For a second, she looks vaguely guilty, shuffling backwards toward the wall with her eyes down. At least today her shirt is right-side-out. It’s a little orange thing with sparkly monkeys on it, which she picks at with nervous fingers. “I dunno.”
“Did you have them this morning?” Finn presses gently, his hands dropping to his knees. Bea’s nose wrinkles up. She wavers back and forth on her socked feet, still not meeting Finn’s eyes.
“No,” she finally says when the silence has dragged on, looking up defiantly. “Why do I need shoes anyway? Monkeys run barefoot!” She holds out the bottom of her monkey shirt like proof.
Fighting back a smile, Finn says in a serious tone, “They’re to protect your feet. Humans aren’t like monkeys, we drop things on the ground that can hurt us. You need to wear shoes when you’re at school, Bea. Any other time, your dad can say you don’t need to, but here you do.”
Bea’s face crinkles again. “That’s dumb. I don’t like my shoes. They’re small! They pinch my toes.” She wriggles them to make her point, making the little cats on one sock warp over her toes. The other sock is bright green and her toes stick out at the ends. Finn looks down at them, something crunching in his gut. He desperately wants to like Bea’s father. It’s selfish, but the way Poe looked at him, eyes sparkling and bright, focused completely on him, made his heart sputter. But here’s his daughter with too-small shoes and threadbare socks at school. She didn’t have a snack today either.
“Okay,” he says, mostly to himself, “okay. Bea,” Finn glances up at her and holds out his hand for her, “we’re going to call your dad, okay? He’ll bring you your shoes.”
Bea grins as she curls her tiny fingers into his. She looks eerily like her father. “He’s not gonna be able to find ‘em.” With a triumphant smile, she leans up to whisper in his ear, half-giggling, “I hid them in the freezer.”
Finn stifles a groan, “I’m going to tell him that, you know.”
Bea’s betrayed wail of protest carries loud enough that Rey pokes her head outside the door, blinking. A paper airplane is somehow tucked through the loops of her hair.
“Everything alright?”
“Yes,” Finn sighs, tugging Bea with him. “We’re borrowing the phone. I’ll be back soon.”
“Don’t tell him!” Bea tells him breathlessly, thumping against his leg as he walks down the hall. “Miss Rey! Tell him not to tell dad! Not fair!”
Rey just shakes her head and lets the door fall shut again.
“It’s the rules, sorry, kid,” Finn says, his hand still locked around hers. His nerves are on edge. Half of him wants to hear Poe’s smooth voice on the other end. The other half hopes that he doesn’t have to endure it again.
The phone is a tiny old thing, attached to the wall in an administrator’s office that’s been abandoned for longer than Finn and Rey have been teaching here. Papers tower in dusty stacks that he and Bea have to weave around. Bea sneezes a bit and glares up at Finn. She stays petulantly attached to his leg.
At least the phone itself isn’t covered in dust, and someone—probably Rey—has left a directory of all this year’s parent numbers, neatly printed and tacked up to the wall beside it.
“So unfair,” mutters Bea just as, after almost four complete rings, a breathless Poe picks up the phone with a frazzled “Hang on, hang on—" Something crackles on the end of the line, then fizzes and bangs ominously.
When Poe finally says, “Hey, sorry about that, this is Poe! What’s up?” he sounds surprisingly cheerful.
“Hi Mr. Dameron,” Finn says, squeezing Bea’s hand to try and shush her. “This is Finn, uh, Williams. Bea’s teacher.”
Poe’s breath catches. “Finn! Hey. Is everything okay? Bea alright?”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s nothing bad. But she doesn’t have any shoes or food,” Finn says, keeping his voice calm.
“She doesn’t—" Poe repeats, sounding disbelieving. He mutters something under his breath. “Right. Yeah. Of course. She hid them, didn’t she?”
“In the freezer,” Finn says, firmly ignoring Bea’s rising protests. “I— could you bring them?”
“You told me you couldn’t reach the freezer,” Poe groans like she can hear him over the phone. “Sorry, I’ll go grab them right now— has she been barefoot this entire time? Without her lunch?”
“She has socks,” Finn offers sheepishly.
“Oh, god.” Poe’s voice is muffled now, and there’s a strange clanging behind him. “Be there in half an hour. Don’t let her near any, like— heavy metal toe-crunching stuff.”
“We don’t have any,” Finn laughs, “see you soon. I’ll keep her out of trouble ‘til then.”
“Thank you,” Poe breathes, fervent, and then curses as something else clanks somewhere, fuzzing up the line briefly. “Seriously. Thank you. You’re the best.”
“It’s not a problem,” Finn says, hesitating for a second before he hangs up. Glancing down at Bea, he raises an eyebrow. Bea glares up at him as stormily as she can manage, which is not very, given her hair is up in pigtails and covered in tiny sparkly clips again.
“Traitor,” she tells him with a mulish tilt to her chin.
“It's the right thing to do.” Finn tells her. “Back to class, go on,” he nudges her back toward the classroom. “Your dad’ll be here soon.”
“Why’d you have to tell him about the freezer? Now he’s gonna find his planes, too.”
Bea lets it go after that, because when they get back to the room Rey is leading them all in an art exercise (something that is, objectively, kind of hilarious. While Rey is good at a truly astounding number of things, her drawings of people look more like stick figures or potatoes and she can’t color to save her life). Bea, who loves drawing excessively glittery pictures of planes and unicorns, squeals and bolts over to her desk to shove in beside Ari, who grins and hands her a carrot.
It’s better than what he’d been trying to woo her with last week. Apparently Bea is allergic to dandelions. She takes no notice of Ari’s starry-eyed affection at all, shoves the carrot in her mouth, and promptly steals three of his crayons. He lets her.
Closer to forty minutes later, when they’re all absorbed in competing to draw the best picture of Principal Luke they can manage (because he’s Rey’s uncle and she can get away with it where no one else dares), the classroom door creeps open to reveal Poe holding a pair of sparkly purple sneakers and a lunchbox with Hot Wheels on it. Something black is smudged along his face. Finn breaks into a grin. He gets up with as little noise as possible, which is hard when the colorful chairs are barely a foot off the ground.
“Thanks,” he says quietly to Poe, taking the shoes from him when holds them out with a sheepish grin. He snorts. “They’re still cold.”
“Chilled to perfection,” Poe mumbles dryly and holds up the lunchbox, too, letting it dangle from his hand. “The freezer. Who'd have thought.”
“Your daughter, apparently,” Finn takes that as well, but doesn’t move back. Poe’s hair is a mess and there’s grease on his cheek and Finn doesn’t know if anyone has ever been this attractive. He shrugs at Finn, looking apologetic and tired and somehow still smiling.
“All my fault. Sadly.” His eyes flick down Finn’s body and back to his face. Finn’s cheeks burn, but he can’t help flexing a bit under his purple T-shirt with elephants on it. When Poe meets his eyes again, his grin widens. “You got some glitter.”
“I always do,” Finn says breathlessly, reaching up to rub his cheek with the back of the hand holding Bea’s shoes. “You know, ah,” he murmurs, “my offer still stands.”
Poe’s brows inch up. “What offer’s that?”
“Help. Teaching you to cook,” his lips flick up in a smile. “Whatever.”
“You’re already helping by monitoring her feet,” but Poe’s smile widens a bit. He leans on the door frame, looking entirely too attractive with his hair everywhere and that easy grin. Finn’s fingers itch to run through those wild curls. They look ridiculously soft. He grips the shoes tighter as Poe continues, “You must think I’m the worst dad ever.”
“I don’t,” Finn says quickly. “I really don’t. Everyone goes through rough spots. Really.”
Poe bites his lip and nods at the lunchbox. “There are some vegetables in there.”
“She’ll love that,” he says genuinely. The noise of the kids swells behind him. Rey calls out his name, a little sharp, and Finn winces. “I should really go. Thanks. Seriously.”
Poe’s laughter is bright. “I should be thanking you! You’re a great teacher.”
“It’s my job,” Finn says, but he can’t help the pleasurable heat in his cheeks. Poe is suddenly the only still thing in the room, leaning against the doorframe with easy grace. Still grinning, Poe nudges him with his elbow.
“Keep it up, then. I gotta get back, but,” he hesitates, biting his lip again—like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it— “You really know how to cook?”
“Yeah, I’m alright at it,” Finn tamps down on the hope bubbling in his chest before it can be dashed. Poe’s smile widens a bit. He shoves himself off the door frame to stand up straight.
“Trade you? I can chaperon for whatever field trip is next.”
“Oh, uh,” Finn blinks. He hadn’t expected that. Then he grins back, unable to stop himself. Poe has this effect, replicated in Bea, where he smiles and immediately makes you want to smile back. They have the same bright beam, the same crinkled nose. “Okay. Sure. I, I’ll text you. I have your number. Which is kinda weird.”
He smiles like he means it. “Looking forward to it. There’s, uh," with a flickering look at Finn, Poe leans forward, hand coming up to smooth over Finn’s jaw. Finn freezes, eyes wide, until he remembers the glitter.
“Thanks,” he says on a breath. The tips of Poe’s fingers come away sparkling.
“That’s most of it.” Poe watches him, still smiling softly, and he’s just sucking in a breath when Rey calls out in her most annoyed voice “Finn it is time for math!” followed by a chorus of groaning children.
Poe’s grin goes wide. “Oops. If I had time I’d sit in so I don’t feel so useless letting Bea-Bea explain third-grade subtraction to me.” He winks again and pushes his glittery hand into his hair, leaving bits stuck sparkling in the strands. “I’m free on Saturday, if— well. Just text me.” he says as Rey calls Finn’s name again.
“Yeah, yeah,” Finn shuffles back into the room. “I will!” He holds up the shoes in triumph and hands them to Bea with a stern, “now put those on,” before he rushes up to the front of the class to herd the kids into their seats again. For a second Poe is still visible at the door, pointing to his eyes with two fingers and then to Bea, who sticks out her tongue but starts to wriggle into her shoes. Laughter trails as the door shuts.