Rhythm

by AshEmerson

Summary:

Dr. Benjamin Solo is a brilliant, arrogant thoracic surgeon with a god complex and a scalpel to match. Perfection is his standard, especially in the operating room, where nothing less will do. The only person who dares challenge him is Rey Niima, a fiercely ambitious perioperative nurse who doesn’t care how many prestigious degrees he has. If he compromises patient care or treats the team like disposable tools, she has no trouble taking him down as many notches as needed to rein in his ego.

Inside the operating room, they’re electric. Sharp, synchronized, unstoppable. Outside it? They’re oil and water, fire and ice, clashing over everything from protocol to parking spaces.

When a high-stakes case forces them to spend more time together beyond the scrub sink, the line between rivalry and desire begins to blur. Underneath the tension is a pull neither can ignore, one that might cut deeper than either of them is ready for.

Notes:

It's been a while since I've written something new.

Chapter 1: Shine On

Star struck.

It's the only way she can describe what meeting Dr. Solo for the first time feels like.

He's big and imposing, larger than life. It's in the way he carries himself, full of self-assured confidence. To say she's caught off-guard when he takes an interest in her is an understatement.

"Ms. Niima. The peri-op I've heard so much about."

Her eyes widen. No way he's actually heard of her.

"They didn't tell me that in addition to your impressive performance during Senator Ackbar's quad bypass, you're also beautiful."

A furious blush rises in her face that has more to do with him than the second glass of champagne she's halfway through. That and the fact that he does, indeed, seem to have heard of her.

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly all nerves.

"Oh, uhm. Thanks. I was just doing my job." She ignores his comment about her looks.

And speaking of looks, Dr. Solo certainly isn't lacking in that department. His face is a mismatch of features that shouldn't work together and yet somehow not only do they work, they mesh into something that makes her heart beat faster.

"No need to be modest. Ms. Niima. I've read the case files. Very impressive. Your use of the Holdo Maneuver was bold and innovative. I'd love to hear about your experience, ask you some questions."

Why is he staring at her like that? And why is he so close? She can smell his aftershave, cedar with a hint of something else she can't quite place.

"Oh, there's really not much more to tell. It was all in the report."

"I'm serious." His eyes hold her in place. "Reading about your work is one thing. Hearing it from you first-hand is something else entirely."

She isn't quite sure how to respond. It's all moving so fast.

"Tell me what it felt like. To hold a man's life in your hands." Bright, intelligent eyes dance across hers.

The activity in the convention center shrinks to background noise as she considers her words.

"It felt…" Her voice trails off. 

Powerful. Exhilarating.

"Like you were a god?" he fills in.

Yes, but…

"Uhm, more transcendent, less like a god?" she offers, not quite willing to lay claim to the high status he places on their work.

He studies her with intense scrutiny. Rey tries not to fidget under the weight of his stare but it's difficult to ignore her discomfort.

"Have dinner with me. Let's talk," he says.

Her brain must be short circuiting because there's no way just asked her to—

"Dinner?" she repeats.

"I have a standing reservation at Millennium."

Because, of course he does.

As many times as she's been to Chicago, she's never managed to get anywhere near a reservation for Millennium. His offer is too good to pass up.

"Food is best when shared." A warm sense of hope colors his words.

Rey looks up into his expectant face, her smile growing wide.

"Sure. I'd love that."

Like hers, his smile also grows. At the same time, he extends one extraordinary, life-saving hand toward her.

"Great. I have to say goodbye to a few people, then we can go."

The warmth of his hand engulfs hers when she lets him take hold.

Rey smiles and offers hellos followed by quick goodbyes to some of the biggest names in thoracic surgery while he makes the rounds before declaring they're ready to leave.

"This way," he says as they exit the convention center. The hand that took hers earlier finds the small of her back with a light but commanding touch. "I ordered a car."

It strikes her again how fast things are moving. A strong sense of unease washes over her. Maybe this isn't a good idea. Before she can think of a way to extricate herself from the situation, they're cozied up together in the back seat of a hired Tesla while their driver honks his way through mid-town traffic.

Just as the silence threatens to settle over them, he turns toward her.

"How was your time at Case Western?" he asks. "You studied under Moden Canady."

Once again, he surprises her with his intimate knowledge of her life. On the other hand, she supposes it isn't difficult to find facts about her education and experience. A simple internet search would yield plenty of information.

It's more that he's clearly done his research that unnerves her.

That and the fact that she isn't sure whether his interest is business or personal, for surely the two cannot coexist.

"Intense," she answers. "My time there was intense. And rewarding. And yes, I did study under Canady."

Moden Canady had been far more than a teacher and mentor. He'd been like a father to her, something she'd desperately needed at the time. Without his guidance, Rey doubts she would have stayed the course and finished her degree.

"Good man. Top of his profession. He and my father fought in the Great War together." He shifts in his seat as the car slows. "Stay put. I'll come around and get your door."

Rey has a brief moment to herself to wonder again why this man is so interested in her. Other than his singular comment on her looks, he's kept their conversation within the boundaries of their profession. Well, with the obvious exception of his invitation to dinner at an expensive, highly-coveted restaurant.

When her door opens, she allows him to help her from the car.

They're greeted by a young man in impeccable dress.

"Welcome back, Dr. Solo. Right this way."

The room is already at capacity, almost as though everyone was waiting for his arrival. Rey shakes off the absurd notion while their host leads them to a leather booth in the corner.

"Thank you, again, for the invitation," she says once they're seated. "Every time I'm in Chicago, I try to get a reservation. No luck."

"The Calrissians are family friends," he says, referring to the restaurant's owners.

Is there anyone this man doesn't know?

You. He doesn't know you.

Rey brushes the thought aside. They're just here for dinner, as professionals whose work often intersects.

"They're such an inspiration," she says to keep her thoughts on-track. "A father and daughter separated during the war only to find each other all those years later." A swell of emotion rolls through her. As a child of the foster care system, a reunion such as theirs was a childhood dream, one she’s long since given up on.

"I was in college when Jannah found Lando," he says. "It didn't go well at first. It was difficult for Lando to learn he had a grown daughter. I think it brought back a lot of memories of Jannah's mother that he wasn't ready for."

The lights dim until the candles on each table become the main source of illumination. Anticipation hums through the room. Aproned waitstaff appear and begin filling wine glasses.

"Good evening, Dr. Solo. Ms. Niima. Tonight we're starting with a 2020 Silver Sea chenin blanc."

By now, she shouldn't be surprised by anything when she's around him, including that their server already knows her name. Rey listens while the sommelier presents the wine's history. He pours as he speaks, his timing perfect so that he finishes his narrative at the same time their glasses are filled.

"To hear my mother tell it, I was born in the Silver Sea," Ben says.

"You're Chandi?"

"Does it surprise you?" he asks.

"That you're Chandrilian? No, not really." Rey focuses on her wine to collect her thoughts.

Yes, things are moving fast. It's really not different from the OR where, despite their best-laid plans, something always goes sideways. She does this, all day, every day. Time with him is no different. It's only different if she allows it to be.

"Why are we here, Dr. Solo?" She makes sure to lock eyes with him. "What are you after, exactly?"

He stares back, wholly unintimidated. "I'm hungry, and I want to know everything about Ackbar's surgery, starting with the moment you realized you were the only person standing between his life and his death."

Irritation prickles across her forearms. It's the second time he's pushed her to an uncomfortable space.

Her rational side says that were she in his shoes, she'd be asking him the same questions. She'd also have the respect to at least ask him for the technical rundown before digging into the emotional impact.

"What is it with you? Why the interest in how I felt and not what I accomplished?"

The candle's flame dances in his eyes. "Because it's what we feel that sets us apart when things go wrong. What happened during Ackbar's surgery is a once in a lifetime event. The decisions you made saved his life."

Rey frowns. "I did what needed to be done. Nothing more, nothing less. Anyone in my place would have done the same."

He sits back in his seat and rests his fingers on the stem of his wine glass but doesn't pick it up. For a brief moment, his attention shifts to the pale gold liquid before returning to her.

"Being singled out makes you uncomfortable," he says.

Despite his outward charm and larger-than-life persona, the shine is off. He's arrogant and overbearing. Whatever he's after, she's not inclined to give it to him.

The only problem is, she's stuck in this restaurant where the dinner show is about to begin. She can't just walk out without disrupting everyone else's experience.

"You want to know what happened? I'll tell you what happened. Halfway through a routine quad bypass, Dr. Abrams suffered a fatal pulmonary embolism. Dead before he even hit the floor. The fall knocked the heart-lung machine offline and tore the aortic bypass out of the patient, leaving a large hole just above the heart. While others tried to help Dr. Abrams and get the machine back online, I assessed the patient and the situation. It made sense to employ the Holdo Maneuver. I felt it was the patient's best shot at survival while they rebooted the machine and we waited for the backup surgeon. It worked. The surgeon arrived, finished the surgery, and the patient recovered as if nothing had gone wrong. There. Happy now?"

He shifts, leaning closer. "No, not until you tell me how it felt."

Rey picks up her glass and finishes half the wine in one swallow. The show hasn't started. If she gets up now, there's a chance very few people will notice.

Before she can rise, the lights go up in the center of the room, illuminating the kitchen that will host the night's entertainment.

Instead of standing, Rey remains seated, frustrated that she missed her chance to leave. Even though she’s stuck here, the dinner show means she won’t have to speak to him very much. If she times it right, she can excuse herself to the bathroom during intermission and slip out the front.

One look at Dr. Solo makes her reconsider her position. There's an alluring energy about him. She wonders if she’s being too harsh on him. Maybe there's something to his insistence on sharing the emotions she feels when she works.

At the very least, he's the only person who's shown interest in how she feels and not just what she can do in an operating room. A shiver rushes across her skin.

"Good evening, everyone. I hope you all brought your appetites because tonight we have a very special evening planned."

The young man in the spotlight continues with his explanation of the night's events but she hears none of it. A strange ringing narrows the field of sound to just her and Dr. Solo. The weird silence goes on and all she can hear is their breathing.

"Rey."

Her eyes snap to him. What she finds reflected back is permission.

Permission to admit the truth. Blood surges through her veins.

"I've never felt anything like it," she says in a breathless rush. "Never before and never since."

The smile that crosses his face shifts something deep inside her. The world tilts until she sees him in an entirely different light.

No one knows her.

But he might.

It hits her that out of everyone else she's crossed paths with, he just might be the only person who truly understands.

"Would you like to feel it again?" he asks.

"What is it you're asking, Dr. Solo?"

"I want you in my operating room. Come to San Francisco. Work with me."

It takes a good bit of effort to keep her expression neutral. Still, excited anticipation courses through her.

"You're offering me a job, aren't you?

"I'm considering it," he says. "It pays well but I wouldn't be nice to you." The upward set of his eyes betrays his enjoyment.

"You're offering me a job."

His expression shifts, growing more serious. "Yes."

Before she can think of a response, their waiter appears to ask what they would like to refill their glasses with.

Rey stays quiet while Dr. Solo, Ben, orders a bottle of red wine. It gives her a quick reprieve from the intensity, enough to get her bearings.

"As much as I appreciate the offer, I've got to get back to Jakku," she says.

"Jakku? Your talents are wasted in that backwater junkyard."

"The poor have just as much right as the rich to top-quality medicine. I've just signed on for a two-year residency."

"I can wait. My offer is open-ended. When you change your mind about Jakku, call me."

She's back to feeling irritated with him. For the most part, he hasn't been anything but friendly and genuinely interested in her.

The waiter reappears. In addition to the wine, the first course has arrived. It's a beautiful shared salad served on a small plate placed in the middle of the table.

Rey makes sure to take the first bite. On the second bite, their forks clash against the porcelain.

"Have I done something to upset you, Ms. Niima?"

She doesn't miss the fact that he's reverted to using her formal name. The look on his face is open and sincere, no signs of deceit or trickery. He looks genuinely concerned that he may have upset her. It’s this, more than anything, that snaps her out of her mood. Rey takes a deep breath and chases it with a healthy swallow of wine.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I don't know why I'm being so difficult. I think talking about what happened makes me uncomfortable."

"If anyone understands, I do."

This time, when he smiles, she smiles back. A warm, unfamiliar feeling she recognises as attraction rolls through her. The feeling grows as the evening goes on.

The dinner show is entertaining and the food amazing. Lando and Jannah put on an impressive show. There’s even some light-hearted teasing at Ben's expense which he takes in stride. It's endearing and she can't stop smiling at him. They're halfway through the third course when it hits her.

If the opportunity arises, she's going to go back to his room. She thanks the stars for having had the foresight to touch up her bush and wear something a little sexier than her normal day-to-day cotton boy shorts.

During dessert, Rey feeds him two spoonfuls of her crème brûlée. She can't take her eyes off the way his lips pull the sweet treat from her spoon. There’s still some custard left on the spoon after his second bite. His eyes darken when she pops it in her mouth and licks it clean.

The sweet cream coats her tongue the way she imagines he would taste if she kissed him right now.

As enjoyable as dinner was, the only thing on Rey's mind during the espresso course is getting an invitation to go back to Ben's room.

When the show ends, instead of leaving, their hosts invite them to stay after for a while. As eager as she is for the possibility of sex, Rey enjoys herself. The Calrissians are lovely, generous people. Their energy is infectious. It’s well after midnight when they say goodnight to their hosts.

Out on the sidewalk, Rey pulls her coat tighter against the cold wind blowing off the lake.

Before it can get awkward, Rey thanks him. "I had a wonderful time tonight." She gives him what she hopes is her most inviting smile. "Would you like to grab a drink somewhere? With the dinner show, there wasn't much of an opportunity for us to talk. Even though I already have a job, I'm interested to hear about your offer." She pauses before quickly adding, "Assuming you were serious, of course."

He moves closer until he's poised at the very edge of her personal space without going too far. The smile he's worn all night turns into something that makes her stomach flip.

"My offer was serious, almost as serious as what I'm about to offer." He pulls his hands free of his pockets. Warm fingertips brush loose strands of hair off her face before his palm comes to rest on her cheek.

"O–offer?"

"Yeah. Skip the bar, come back to my place."

"Your place?" It seems she's been reduced to asinine questions instead of coherent thought. To be fair, having him this close would make anyone's knees weak and their brain mush.

"I keep a small apartment over in River North."

It's easy enough to say yes. He doesn't know it but she made that decision hours ago. All she needed was an invitation.

In the flashing darkness of the backseat, he turns her way, close but still polite. "We only go as far as you want. Understood?"

"I understand." At least, she thinks she understands.

"Good."

Rey can't help the little sound she makes when he brushes his lips over hers. Soft, gentle, it isn't much more than the lightest of kisses. The faint taste of vanilla custard drifts across her tongue.

Heat ignites in her belly. Rey shifts toward him, increasing the pressure of her mouth on his. His groan rumbles in her chest. Strong, nimble fingers thread their way into her hair.

He takes control of the kiss, rubbing his mouth over hers between little nips and licks that drive her crazy. She loses the rhythm, pulling back when her teeth clack against his.

"Sorry, it's been a while." Embarrassed, her cheeks heat.

"It's okay. Just slow down." He tucks her hair back then cups her cheek. His thumb drags across her lips before he replaces it with his mouth. Gentle strokes of his tongue make her lose track of time.

He draws back and touches his forehead to hers. "We're here and I'd really like it if you'd come inside."

"You don't need to ask. I'm here because I want to be."

The energy coursing through her makes the trip to his apartment pass in a blur. He guides them into an elevator, waiting until the doors close and they're alone to kiss her again.

Hunger overwhelms her. She fists his shirt and yanks him closer, unable to get enough of his mouth. The elevator’s arrival on his floor forces them apart.

They stumble down the hall in a tangle of limbs and awkward kisses. Keyless entry makes the transition into his apartment smoother.

Once inside, the energy shifts, cooling some of the intensity. It gives her pause and lets loose a creeping sense of awkwardness. Rey steps out of arm’s reach and presses the back of her fingers against her lips.

"You work fast," she says.

"Change your mind already?" He rakes a hand through his hair and reaches for the knot in his tie, loosening it.

Electricity sizzles through her at the thought of him undressed. She pulls her coat off and sets it over a chair. "Hardly."

He tosses his tie aside and starts undoing his shirt buttons. "Take off that dress."

Rey slips one of her heels off.

"Shoes stay on," he orders. "Dress off, shoes and panties on."

Desire flares in her belly. Being told what to do is unexpected and exciting. Rey leans into it, curious about where it will lead. The shoe goes back on.

"Whatever you say, Dr. Solo." Rey gets her zipper down enough to slip free of her dress.

"Ben. I want to hear you say my name."

Before she can kick the dress away and answer him, a woman's voice comes from a darkened doorway behind him.

"Ben, who the fuck is this?"

Rey shrieks and scrambles for her dress. She tracks him when he turns toward the voice. A pretty dark-haired woman moves into view.

"Fuck, Bazine. You're not supposed to be here."

Embarrassed and angry, Rey clutches her dress in place, snatches her coat from the chair, and dashes for the front door. How dare he. She's no home wrecker. If she'd known he was taken, she would never have agreed to dinner with him, much less come back to his place to fuck him.

"Rey, wait!"

Something big smashes into the wall behind her and shatters. She doesn't look back.

"Don't you fucking run from me—"

Rey doesn't catch the rest of his sentence, safely out of his apartment with the closed door between them.

She kicks her shoes off, sweeps them up and runs back the way she came. Instead of waiting for the elevator, she pushes her way into the stairwell.

It takes precious seconds to get her dress back on and straight but it's worth the effort. She still has to walk across the lobby and would rather not draw unwanted attention. This night has been a big enough disaster and she doesn't want to do anything to add additional humiliation.

None of it matters because the moment the front doors come into view, Rey bursts into tears. As soon as she’s tucked into the back of an Uber, her phone vibrates. She glances at it through her tears.

It’s a text from him, begging her to let him explain. She huffs out her anger and puts her phone on DND before shoving it into her coat pocket. There is nothing he could possibly say that will change anything.

Just. Fuck him.

Chapter 2: Animus

Notes:

For context, TECAB stands for Totally Endoscopic Coronary Artery Bypass - It is an experimental type of heart surgery only a very small handful of doctors can perform.

Her phone rings, sending anticipation through her. She resists the urge to see who's calling so she can rein in her emotions.

Maybe it'll be him. If it is, she's already made up her mind to answer this time. The anticipation turns to disappointment when she glances at her screen.

Rey sighs and connects the call. "Hey, Poe."

She adds another mark to her mental tally. It's been exactly six weeks since Ben last called. His absence has left a hollow place inside her that she didn’t expect and doesn't know how to fill. It's ridiculous because she's spent less than twelve hours with him and there's no reason to feel this way.

"Have you heard?" Poe asks.

She rolls her eyes. Typical Poe, high energy, low context. Rey plays along.

"Heard what?" she says, expecting him to ask her to dinner again.

"You're doing the TECAB panel at this year's convention, right?"

The Board had approached her about the opportunity and she’d jumped at the chance. There had been a moment of hesitation when they’d told her that Ben had also been invited to participate, but she’d brushed it aside and agreed. The last message she’d received had said he hadn’t responded and asked if she minded giving the panel on her own.

"You know I am. What did you hear?"

"I wonder if it's too late to upgrade to first class?" he muses. There’s a gleeful edge to his voice she doesn't like.

"Poe. Knock it off. Tell me what you heard or I'm hanging up." Rey takes a sip of tea.

"A little birdie told me that Solo just confirmed his spot on the panel."

She chokes on her tea. "What panel, my panel? No. Tell me you're joking."

"No joke, Niima. Hey, what're you doing Friday night? Let me take you out."

And, there it is, the requisite invitation. "No to dinner and I'm hanging up now. Bye, Poe."

"Aw, come on. I'm a fun guy."

"I'm sure you are, for someone else. Bye, Poe." Rey ends the call before he can say more.

Alone in her office, Rey leans her elbows on the desk and rests her forehead against her palms.

Mixed emotions compete for her attention. She can't decide if she's upset or thrilled that she and Dr. Solo are on the same panel for this year's annual thoracic surgery conference.

They haven't spoken since she ran out of his apartment eight months ago. Up until six weeks ago, it wasn't for lack of trying on his part.

Right after it happened, he had called and left a message. She has it memorized. It's the message she listens to most often.

Rey, please answer. It wasn’t what it looked like. The woman in my apartment is my cousin. She's an oxy addict and broke in looking for drugs. I've gotta hang up now. The medics are here to take her back to rehab. I'll try again later.

Instead of making her feel better, she felt embarrassed that she reacted so badly and assumed he was using her to cheat. How awful it must be to have family that breaks in and steals from you. Family is one thing she doesn’t have to worry about.

He'd called again two days later.

Hey, it's Ben. I'd really like a chance to talk to you. Things didn't end the way they should have between us. Please call me back.

But she hadn't, unable to shake the deep feeling of mortification, and now it feels too late.

Apparently, fate has other ideas. Unless she drops out of the panel, they'll be seeing each other next month.

The excitement that's been brewing rises up. Maybe it's worth giving him another chance. At the very least, maybe she can find a way to bring up his job offer. Though she still has sixteen months left on her residency, Jakku Regional was informed that the Organa Foundation decided not to renew the second year of Rey’s grant. Worst case scenario is that she’s out of a job in four months. The timing almost couldn’t be better for her to have a reason to speak to Dr. Solo again.

She needs to call Rose, run all this past her so she can figure out how to approach the situation.

More like how to approach him, she thinks.

The hair on her arms prickles up. Rey lets herself imagine finishing what they started. Heat fills her cheeks. She can still remember the way he tastes. The prickle on her arms spreads through her body.

Rey straightens up and reaches for her phone to call Rose. It rings before she gets it in her hand. It's from a number she doesn't recognize so she lets it go to voicemail and returns to her work. Her desire to call Rose gets lost in a flurry of paperwork.

By three o'clock, she's ready to head home. When she picks up her phone, she sees the notification. Whoever called earlier left a message.

She finishes gathering her things while she picks up the voicemail.

Hello, Ms. Niima…

The sound of Ben's voice takes her breath away and stops her in her tracks. She pauses to listen.

…I'm calling as a professional courtesy to let you know I've agreed to be on the TECAB panel alongside you. I didn’t want there to be any surprises and I wanted you to hear it from me first.

He signs off with a curt goodbye.

Her heart pounds with renewed excitement. She takes a few deep breaths to gather herself, not quite ready to return his call. The rush subsides after a few minutes, leaving a creeping sense of unease.

Ms. Niima. Not Rey. His attitude has changed since he last left a message. In addition to his formal greeting, his voice is cool and professional, no hint of his earlier warmth. He didn’t ask her to call him back.

Her anticipation evaporates. Anxiety replaces the last of her elation. It’s going to be awkward and awful having to work so closely with him but she’ll be damned if she’s going to give up her panel seat for a little discomfort.

In the car on the way home, she dials Rose.

“Let me guess, you’re off work and want to meet me at D’Qar for happy hour,” Rose says by way of greeting.

“I wish,” Rey answers. “Can’t meet for drinks but I sure could use someone to talk to.”

“Is this about Poe? Did he ask you out again?”

“No, not Poe, although he did ask me out again.”

“Want me to yell at him for you?”

“Thanks, but no. I’m not calling about Poe, who’s harmless, by the way.”

“Okay, fine. Spill.”

Rey takes a deep breath, aware of her heart pounding against her ribs. “Ben, Dr. Solo, said yes to the TECAB panel.”

The line goes silent.

“Rose? Hello? Did I lose you?”

Rose lets loose a long string of profanities. “What are you going to do?” she says when she calms down.

“I’m—nothing. I’m not going to do anything other than what I was already going to do. My questions and answers are ready to go. Between now and next month, I’m just going to keep practicing.”

“Play it cool, right.”

Rey can almost hear Rose rolling her eyes.

“How’d you find out?” Rose asks.

“Poe.”

“Figures. Anyway, are you going to finally get over your bullshit and call this guy back?”

Rey’s shoulders slump. “No need. He already called me.”

Rose shrieks loud enough to rattle her eardrums through her car’s speakers. “You talked to him? And you didn’t start off with that juicy little morsel?”

“I didn’t talk to him, Rose. He left a message.”

“I swear to god, Rey. I’ve watched you pine for this man for a year. Will you please just call him?”

“Eight months, not a year.”

“Whatever.”

“And, his message wasn’t good. He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“He said that?”

“Well, no. But, he called me Ms. Niima. He sounded impersonal, like we were strangers.”

“To be fair, you pretty much are. And, it’s not like you’ve given him any reason to believe otherwise.”

Rey frowns. “Hey, I gotta run. Parking is hell and I have ice cream melting on my backseat.”

They say goodbye and break the connection. Rose’s comment about her and Ben being strangers rushes to the surface.

Rose is right. From anyone else’s perspective, she and Dr. Solo are very much strangers. Their only link is their adjacent professions. What happened in Chicago was just a quirk, something best forgotten.

The problem is, she can’t forget. She’s allowed herself to make a space for him. It had started with viewing his professional profile. Though it felt wrong to snoop through his life, the more she learned about him, the more her intrigue grew. She’s consumed every bit of his work she can get her hands on. Medical journals, TED talks, YT videos. Anything. Everything.

It’s safe to admit that this is the real reason she’s avoided him. Like everything with him, it’s ridiculous. Reading medical journals by one of the world's leading thoracic surgeons is well within the bounds of her professional interest. There isn’t a logical reason to be bothered by that.

And, he did offer her a job.

 

There’s plenty to do in the month leading up to the conference. It keeps her occupied and leaves no time for Ben Solo in her thoughts. Once she arrives in New York, there are people to meet up with and a whirlwind of activities.

Her nerves don’t start until two hours before the panel discussion is scheduled to begin. She discovers that when word got out about Dr. Solo’s participation, the number of seat requests had skyrocketed. To accommodate the increased demand, organizers had moved the location to the larger ballroom. No one had bothered to inform her of the change.

Rey swallows against the dryness in her mouth. At last count, there were over a thousand people expected. It’s the largest crowd she’s ever been in front of, much larger than the original seventy she had been expecting.

Dr. Solo is a popular man.

She arrives fifteen minutes early. It gives her time to walk through the space and get familiar with her surroundings. The sheer number of folding chairs is overwhelming. There are just so many. The fear of looking foolish or not being able to answer a question brings sweat to her brow.

Stop. You’re ready for this. There isn’t anything you can’t handle.

Rey pauses behind the podium where the moderator will stand. In front of it, two chairs angle toward each other facing the audience. Hands on hips, she closes her eyes and takes deep breaths. The anxiety eases more with each one. Footsteps draw her attention back to her surroundings.

Dr. Solo is the first thing she sees when she opens her eyes.

“Ready for this?” he asks without looking at her.

The rich, commanding tone of his voice raises her hackles. “I’m always ready for anything,” she answers. Seeing him again has her heart pounding. 

He hums under his breath and unbuttons his rain-speckled wool coat. “You have questions prepared?”

“Of course.”

“Too bad. We aren’t using them.” He still hasn’t looked at her.

Rey tries to bite back her reply but can’t stop herself. “Like hell, we aren’t. I don’t know who you think you are but this is my panel and we do it my way.”

The main ballroom doors open. Excited energy buzzes through the waiting crowd.

He turns and winks at her before taking the seat on the left. “We’ll see.”

People stream in giving her no opportunity to respond. She takes her seat and makes herself focus until the moderator begins the discussion. To her utter relief, the first half goes exactly to plan. The moderator poses the questions and Rey provides the answers. Dr. Solo is strangely silent, even when she risks inviting him to add his own responses.

At last, the moderator asks the question Rey’s been waiting for. “Ms. Niima, can you describe your experience using the Holdo Maneuver?”

At this question, Dr. Solo turns his attention away from the audience and focuses on her. She ignores the uncomfortable weight of his stare, falling back on knowledge and practice. She recalls the events leading up to her usage for the audience.

“That’s when I knew that if I didn’t perform the procedure, the patient wouldn't survive,” she explains.

“Can I ask you something, Ms. Niima?” It's the first time Dr. Solo has spoken since the discussion started.

His question catches her off-guard. Rey’s defenses shoot up. This isn’t part of the plan but she refuses to let him rattle her.

“Of course, Doctor.”

“Your current occupation and training are in peri-operative nursing, correct?”

Rey frowns, unsure of where he’s going with this. “With a specialty in advanced thoracic procedures, yes.”

“Do peri-ops perform surgery?”

Adrenaline makes her blood rush. He's going to call out her breech of protocol. “This was an emergency. ”

“So no, peri-ops don’t perform surgery. Do you know why?”

“The patient was dying,” she insists.

“Were you qualified to perform the surgery, Ms. Niima.”

“Not technically, but—”

“But you did it anyway and put a very important person’s life in danger.”

Anger flushes her throat and cheeks. “I was confident I could—”

He cuts her off again. “Who gave you permission to perform the surgery?”

Desperate to defend herself, Rey bolts up from her seat, knocking it over. “I saved the patient’s life and I would do it again without hesitation.” She’s on the verge of yelling.

It takes everything she has not to smack the smug smile from his face. While she fights to keep her emotions in check, he turns toward the audience.

“Thanks, everyone. This panel is over,” he announces. “We’ll take a ten minute break before my presentation on the use of AI in making off-pump cardiac bypass more survivable. See you all back here at fifteen past the hour.”

Rey remains standing, hands fisted, face flaming while the ballroom empties. When everyone is gone, she rounds on him.

“How dare you.” She manages to keep most of the angry tremor out of her voice.

“If you’re going to make it to the top, you’re going to need a much thicker skin. Your outburst made it look like you weren’t sure of yourself. I have no room in my OR for weakness.”

“Oh, so I should thank you for the favor. Is that it? Humiliate me in front of my peers to toughen me up? You’re a pig, you know that?”

“You’re missing the point. What you did for Ackbar was brilliant. Claim it. Own it. Use it to save more people.”

The absolute fucking ego on this man. “Goodbye, Dr. Solo. Enjoy your time in New York.” Rey turns and strides away.

“My offer is still open,” he calls after her.

“And, I already have a job.” She resists the urge to give him the finger over her shoulder.

Up in her room, she changes into comfortable clothes, still heated from her encounter. The evening social event doesn’t start for a few hours. Rey uses the time to unwind from her anger. She moves through a handful of slow asanas before relaxing in a hot bubble bath.

Though not officially black tie, the night’s event is where all the glitz and glamour come out. Rey isn’t immune. Usually frugal, she spent an embarrassing amount of money on her evening attire. Dress. Shoes. Jewelry. She’s even splurged, hiring a stylist for her hair and makeup.

When she’s dressed, Rey appraises herself in the mirror. “Eat your heart out, Dr. Solo,” she says to her reflection.

The closer she gets to the ballroom, the more her nerves rise. To her relief, Poe spots her the moment she enters.

“Rey, wow. You look gorgeous.” He hands her a glass of bubbles.

She smiles and takes the wine. “You look pretty sharp yourself.”

The creamy white of his tuxedo contrasts with his dark hair and eyes. He really is good looking, she thinks.

To her surprise, he doesn’t mention what happened during her panel. Either he doesn’t know or he’s being polite. She’s pretty sure it’s the latter. Poe always knows everything about everything.

“The AI discussion was so interesting,” he says. “Not to be missed. You should watch it when the recording comes out.”

She gives a non-committal hum.

"Artificial Intelligence. I'm telling you, Rey. It's going to change everything we know about thoracic surgery. Pretty soon, robots will replace surgeons. Hell they'll probably replace us, too."

Rey tightens her grip on the stem of her wine glass and wills her polite smile to remain in place. She really doesn’t feel like talking about this.

"I don't know. Seems unlikely. Robots will never have that personal, human aspect of what we do, Poe, especially with the off-pump surgeries," she says.

Mischief creases the corners of his eyes. "Good point. Means you and I will have jobs. AI-driven robots can handle the cutting while we handle the humans. Just think, it would mean that prick Solo would be out of the game."

The mention of his name raises goosebumps across her skin. Even with the recent advancements in AI, Rey doubts there’s any threat to Dr. Solo’s career. Despite being an insufferable asshole, he’s made a name for himself by advancing a faster, safer, and less invasive method for multiple heart-bypass surgery. It's what had earned him a permanent position at UCSF.

Rey hates that she knows so much about him. Despite what she said to Poe, she can’t deny that she shares his interest and excitement over recent technological advancements in heart surgery.

Under any other circumstances, she'd jump at the opportunity to work beside Dr. Solo. It would pad out her resume nicely. As awful as he was today, she's almost certain it would be worth putting up with him for the chance to learn from him.

As if her thoughts have conjured the beast, Ben Solo himself saunters up, tumbler of dark liquor grasped in one hand, young aspiring nurse glued to his side with the other. It takes effort for Rey to stifle the eye roll that wants to sweep across her face. She just manages to keep her huff of exasperation from escaping.

"Dameron. Miss Niima." His tuxedo fits well, highlighting his broad shoulders and trim waist.

Why? Why does she find him both so aggravating and attractive at the same time?

"Lookie, Love." Solo—because she refuses to call him Ben after today, even in the privacy of her own mind—tightens his arm around the young blonde, pulling her tighter against him. "I found the nurses' section."

"Ha, ha, Solo. Very funny." Poe's annoyance shows loud and clear.

The blonde gives a nervous little titter that crawls across Rey's skin.

She drains the last of the wine from her glass so she doesn't have to say anything. To her continued annoyance, the good doctor also finishes his drink. Before she can react, Solo disentangles himself from his little plaything and wrests Rey's empty glass from her hand.

He thrusts the glasses at Poe who is startled enough to take them. When his hands are empty, Solo presses a hand to the small of his date's back and guides her around in front of Poe.

"Be a good man, Dameron. Take Sharon here with you and go get us four fresh glasses of sparkling."

The blonde whines. "I keep telling you, my name is Shara. Shar-uh."

Poe, perhaps seeing a chance for some company later in the evening, chimes in. "Shara was my mother's name." He flashes her a bright smile full of charm. "Means I'll never forget you."

The young woman smiles and winds her arm through Poe's. This time, Rey can't keep herself from rolling her eyes as she watches them stroll away.

Great. Now she's alone with the last person she wants to be with.

"You haven't said so much as hello to me, Rey. Are we not friends anymore?"

"Anymore? I'd dare to say we've never been friends, Doctor. And, it's Miz Niima to you."

Errgh! Just being in his vicinity and she's already riled up for a battle of words.

“I pissed you off today,” he says.

“You embarrassed me.”

“I’m trying to help you.”

Rey huffs and glances around hoping to spot Poe. No such luck. He's still at the bar.

"Is there something you want, Doctor? Because after your little stunt today, I’m not inclined to give you anything."

Rey regrets her choice of words immediately. She watches him sink his teeth into his lower lip for a moment before flashing her his stupid, sexy lopsided smile.

It isn't until he answers that she realizes how close he's gotten. His familiar aftershave drifts across her senses. Cedar and something she still can't quite name. Warmth rises along her throat.

"I've been crystal clear about what I want," he says.

She catches his eyes, wishes she hadn't. They're dark pools flecked with gold and filled with the same intense interest he'd almost lured her in with at the last convention.

"I should have known," she says.

A slight frown crinkles his forehead. "Should have known what?"

That you'd be that same rude and insufferable asshole.

Rey gives a little shake of her head, clearing her thoughts. She looks up at him. "Nothing. Forget it."

She needs to get away but Poe takes this moment to return with their glasses. In addition to the wine, he still has Shar-uh with him.

Rey doesn't miss the annoyed look Ben shoots at Poe. He takes the wine.

"Damned interesting panel today, Solo. Lots of growing interest in TECAB. Not many surgeons will attempt it, much less even acknowledge its place in surgical bypass techniques. Too new."

Rey bristles, annoyed at Poe for bringing it up. She doesn’t want to talk about the damned panel anymore.

"What's tee-cab?" Shara asks.

Rey answers before anyone else. "It means using robots to fix hearts."

"Oh. Cool."

"See, Rey? AI. What did I tell you? Robots are the next generation of super-surgeons." Poe sets his glass aside. "Is it true, Doc? You really think you can do one and be off-pump?"

"With the right team. Yes, absolutely."

Poe's smile widens. "Is this where you ask me to be your Instruments Nurse, Solo."

Ben lets out a laugh.

"No, actually. This is where I ask Ms. Niima." He takes a drink before his gaze lands back on her. "I have a patient willing to let me perform the surgery. I'm assembling my team. We cut in nine months."

The fucking nerve of him. After all the bullshit, he has the audacity to keep badgering her.

"As I’ve said before, I'm not interested. If you'll excuse me." Rey turns and heads for the appetizer table even though she isn't the slightest bit hungry. If she hadn't already agreed to dine with Dr. Canady, she'd be out the door and headed anywhere that Ben Solo isn't.

The fact is, she wants to spend time catching up with her old mentor more than she wants to avoid Dr. Solo.

Dinner doesn't start for another forty-five minutes. The ballroom is big but it's not big enough to avoid him entirely. She tries her best anyway.

To her chagrin, she spends so much time deliberately staying away from him that by the time she decides to find her seat, he's already beat her to it because damned if Dr. Solo isn't seated next to Dr. Canady. They're engaged in what looks to be an animated discussion. Canady looks quite charmed by Solo. Infuriating, as usual.

He clearly isn’t going to give up. With no other options, Rey grabs a refill of her wine and heads over.

"Rey, there you are, my dear." Both men rise from their seats as she approaches. "Join us. I was just talking with Dr. Solo here. Have you met?"

Before she can answer with a snide remark, Solo speaks up.

"We have. I offered her a job."

"Really?"

"Yep. Shot me down." Solo whistles while he makes a circling-crashing motion with one finger. "Took a whole case of wine to put out the flames."

Rey ignores the entire conversation, choosing to steer things in a different direction. She leans toward the older man, giving him a chance to greet her with his customary dual cheek kisses "Dr. Canady, it's wonderful to see you. It's been far too long."

"Moden, please. Come, sit."

Despite her attempt to put Canady in the middle, Dr. Solo maneuvers himself so that she's flanked by the men.

"What's this about you turning down the job offer? You'd make a formidable team."

"As I already explained to Dr. Solo, I’m quite happy at Jakku Regional," Rey says.

"Their cardiac program recently lost its biggest funding grant, did it not?"

Oh, for pity's sake. Leave it to Moden to not read the room.

"It did, yes. But I believe our fundraising team will work something out to keep the program going,” Rey says.

"Highly doubtful, my dear. It’s far too late in the grant cycle. All the money for next year has been earmarked. I’m afraid Jakku is cutting your program at the end of this year."

The confirmation that her job has been cut leaves Rey spinning. She’s devastated at the thought of leaving early. All her work will languish until she can find a suitable alternative.

“Nothing to worry about, my dear. You can continue your work under Dr. Solo.” Canady looks pleased with the idea. “Isn't that right, Benjamin?”

“That’s right.”

Rey's had enough. “Moden, it was lovely seeing you. I wish there had been more time to catch up.” She sets her glass aside and stands up. “As for you, Doctor, I wouldn’t work for you if you were the last heart surgeon on earth. Good night, gentlemen.”

She moves as fast as she dares toward the exit. She's almost home free when a strong hand catches her wrist.

Rey turns, expecting Dr. Solo, and finds herself staring into an unfamiliar pair of pale blue eyes.

Notes:

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