Captain Phasma's regimented schedule had her up before the rest of the base. Her everyday ritual had her awake promptly at 4am when she began to ready herself, getting dressed and musing over the day's work. She enjoyed the quiet and not having to hear the bustle of the others on the ship moving around. If she was running early, she'd even disassemble and reassemble her blaster, just for practice.

Polishing her helmet, her head snapped towards the door, her blonde hair falling into her face. Footsteps. She heard footsteps in the hallway at this ungodly hour. She placed her helmet down and swept her hair behind her ear as she approached the door, leaning over to shorten herself and look through the peephole.

She waited as the noise got closer, impatiently anticipating the figure whose boots were echoing down the hall.

As the image came into view, Phasma held her breath. "Y/N," she whispered as she stood up to collect herself.

Her thoughts raced quickly. The first time she saw you from across the mess hall, she knew you were different. She knew you were like her. Ever since then she had always tried to catch glimpses of you wherever she could. Eventually, the two of you had interacted every so often, relaying plans and bits of information the higher your rank became. She admired your professionalism that had mirrored her own, but always noticed how friendly you were with her, opposed to others on the ship. How quickly you had risen though the ranks had only further piqued her interests.

Just the other day, Phasma had managed to make you laugh after she felt confident enough to make a joke in your presence. She was thankful for the helmet that day, relieved you couldn't see how flush she had become. As much as it went against everything she knew, she wanted more than a formal, professional relationship. And she swore you did too. Now was her chance.

Your heavy footsteps echoed through the sleek, empty hallway. It was early, but you were wide awake and ready for the day. It was your first day at your new position – General. Stars, you loved how it sounded. You had been generously granted the position after your predecessor had, frankly, made a few missteps.

And this promotion came with the obvious perks, but you were keen on the one you could flaunt immediately. You had a brand new uniform. The charcoal color was much more flattering on you than your old, teal uniform had been.

And the boots. Your old ones had become worn down, and you hadn't bothered to trade them out. But if these new ones weren't the best. In combination with the new pants, they made your ass look great. As the boots clipped along the hallway, you felt in charge. Powerful. You walked rhythmically, your chin raised slightly and your hands clasped behind your back.

A door down the hallway behind you swished open and slammed shut, rather quickly, interrupting your peaceful train of though. You rolled your eyes. You were not prepared to deal with anyone just yet this morning.

Continuing to walk down the hallway, you suddenly heard footsteps synching with yours, not getting any quieter. You decided to slow down, the second set of footsteps mimicking your pace yet again.

You sighed, growing agitated, and stopped in the middle of the otherwise deserted hallway. The footsteps proceeded briefly, then stopped.

Now, there was a looming presence towering behind you, and you could only imagine it to be one of two people on the ship.

"Can I help –," you began, interrupted by your hat being knocked off of your head.

A groan escaped your lips, whether you meant it to or not. The morning had been going so smoothly until this point, and you would make sure someone would pay for this.

As you bent over to pick up your hat, a loose strand of hair fell into your face. You had worked so hard on your hair this morning, making sure it was in the perfect bun, sleek and straight. You had to look perfect. You were a General now – a General. Frustrated did not begin to explain how you felt now. You took one last deep breath before turning to face the unlucky individual who had dared to cross your path.

Immediately you felt your face flush and raised your hand in an attempt to wipe the embarrassment away. The mirrored chrome figure towered over you. Your heart fluttered, then sank. This was not the Commander, as you had originally suspected.

"Nice hat," the accented, metallic voice stated. The voice modulator tried its best to translate the chuckle that followed.

You straightened your posture, as if to make up for your shortened stature. "Captain, that was incredibly inappropriate," you retorted, pursing your lips to hold back a smile.

Captain Phasma's shoulders dropped and her features twisted under her mask. This wasn't the friendly woman she had recently grown to like, the person she finally convinced herself to flirt with now.

The two of you stood there quietly as seconds passed, the hallway eerily quiet. "I – my apologies, Y/N."

"It's General, now, Captain," you simply stated back. You bit the inside of your cheek, wanting to take back your words. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to freshen up." You dramatically gestured with your hat, nearly cringing at how you had become so stern in your nervous state. You needed to bail. And quickly.

As you turned on your heel to leave, Phasma's gloved hand grabbed your shoulder. Her touch made your heart sink again.

Phasma removed her hand as soon as she saw your eyes looking for hers in her visor. She couldn't quite read your expression, but she wouldn't give up now. She pointed behind her and down the hallway. "Follow me."

As much as you knew you should protest, you didn't, and once she turned her back to walk down the hallway, you finally smiled.

Her body, as tall and broad as it appeared in the armor, seemingly floated down the hall. You weren't sure you had ever recognized how gracefully she moved before.

She stopped suddenly and turned around to face you. As she removed her helmet, her short white hair flowed down around her face. Finally, you got to look into those deep blue-gray eyes. You had only seen her once before without her helmet – in the training room showers, where you had obviously avoided any form of eye contact. And it surprised you how easily she removed her helmet in your presence now. You began to understand what was happening, and you weren't sure how to feel about it.

Phasma was flirting with you.

She punched in a code to the room and opened the door before you realized where you were.

"Excuse me, Captain. Your quarters?"

Phasma entered her room and placed her helmet on her desk, while you shyly stayed out in the hall, frozen from your recent revelation.

"You needed to freshen up, no?" She seemed so casual, comfortable. You envied her.

You took in a shaky breath and looked each way down the hall, confirming it was still deserted. Looking back into Phasma's room, your eyes met. She lightly smiled and waved her arm to invite you in.

"I suppose."

She closed the door behind you as you stepped in. The distance between the two of you was almost nonexistent, her having situated herself between you and the door. She pointed over your shoulder, her shiny arm passing right by your face.

"Bathroom is in the back." You both knew where the bathroom was, the living quarters on the ship all having the same layout. But Phasma couldn't help nearly putting her arm around you.

You moved quickly to the bathroom, not wanting to overstay your welcome, and also not wanting her to see the way your checks were blushing. You closed the door behind you when you realized she had been following you. You needed a moment. Or two.

You let out a deep sigh as your back slammed against the door. The metal was frigid against your back, even through your uniform shirt. Taking a few more deep breaths, you tried to calm yourself. How had you become so flustered so quickly? It had been ages since you felt this way about anyone. Surely no one on the base had ever given you this much trouble. Until recently, you hadn't even paid much attention to the Captain, but you had begun to be increasingly more friendly with her as of late, and she with you. Maybe it wasn't just female camaraderie driving this relationship. The thought of mutual attraction made you panic even more.

You distracted yourself with fixing your hair, replacing your hat to its rightful place and pinning the loose ends underneath, making sure your bun was secure. The reflection in the mirror looked terrified, so you forced yourself to soften your features and look amicable, having recalled your rather harsh behavior in the hallway minutes ago. Even under your makeup, your face was still beet red, and you exited the bathroom against your better judgment.

Phasma was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed above her chest, but you walked right past her not being able to face her and headed for the door.

"Y/N," Phasma called out.

You turned to face her, the heat building up in your cheeks again. You much preferred the sound of her voice saying your name, regretting correcting her earlier. You knew Phasma was too intelligent to have forgotten your rank already. No, this was personal.

You raised your eyebrows waiting for what she had to say, feigning disinterest, but knowing your complexion was likely betraying you.

She approached you, stopping a few feet away. "I would quite like it if you accompanied me to dinner tonight."

Your lips parted as your mouth fell open.

"Are you asking me on a date, Captain?" You tried to maintain a professional conversation, but you felt the corner of your lips upturn. You couldn't hide it anymore.

"If it's alright with you, then yes, I believe I am."

The two of you stood in silence so quiet you wondered if she could hear your heart beating out of your chest.

"I'd like that," you managed to say with a shaky voice.

Phasma beamed, her pearly smile lighting up her face.

You looked down quickly, distracting yourself with your new boots. "I should go now." You turned towards the door. "Thanks for the hospitality."

Phasma hurriedly ran past you to open the door. She tried to make a straight face, but the smile crept back. "My pleasure." She gave you one last smirk before replacing her helmet. Even with her face obscured, she still appeared giddy. Your heart skipped a beat knowing you were the reason she was like that.

As the door opened, a pair of troopers passed, and you froze where you stood. Sensing your nervousness, she gently nudged you into the hall and quickly shut the door behind the two of you. Her masked head gave you a nod, then she proceeded down the hall opposite the troopers as if nothing had happened.

You mindlessly followed the troopers the opposite way, trying to determine what had just happened. You had a date. With Captain Phasma. Your confident demeanor had diminished almost instantly; she had reduced you to a bundle of nerves. Your boots drug along the hallway, unsure of how you were even walking at this point.

"A word, General?" Phasma questioned. She spoke up from a length down the hall, as if she hadn't just spoken to you.

What could she have forgotten? you thought.

You stopped and turned your head to the side, body still facing down the hall, trying your best to be casual, unsure if you could even look at her again just yet. "Yes, Captain?"

Out of the corner of your eye, the blurry silver figure approached. Phasma paused and removed her helmet swiftly, the troopers having safely turned the corner out of sight. You stood still.

You felt warm breath on your neck. "Your ass looks great, by the way."

A shiver went down your spine as you stood up straight and closed your eyes.

Phasma flipped her hair before replacing her helmet. "General." You swore you heard a modulated chuckle from underneath the mask.

"Captain."