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all-the-things-2020 · 9 months ago

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Too Many Damerons

Summary: People keep getting confused because there are two General Damerons and Connix is ready to tear her hair out.

Word Count: 1800+

Rating: PG-13

“It happened again,” Finn said, dropping his duffel bag next to the couch.

Poe looked up from the couch, where he was hunched over his data pad. “You’re kidding,” he said.

“Nope,” Finn said. He plopped down next to his husband. “Got there, went through the whole security check, walked in and the High Minister says, ‘Who are you?’”

“I thought Connix started verifying who they wanted when she arranged these things,” Poe said. He put his data pad away and slipped an arm around Finn’s shoulders, pulling him close.

“She did,” Finn said. “She asked if they wanted Finn Dameron or Poe Dameron and they said Finn, but apparently they thought that was you. Or you’re me. Or whatever.” He sighed. “It would be funny if it wasn’t such a damn waste of time.”

“I hear you,” Poe replied. Just a few weeks ago, he’d flown ten hours to attend a meeting only to find that the rest of the attendees were under the impression they were getting the General Dameron who was an ex-Stormtrooper. When Poe had shown up, the former troopers who had tentatively formed an alliance with the local government felt they’d been betrayed and backed out of the deal, which caused headaches for everyone, especially Poe, who had to try to explain to a cranky planetary governor that when humans got married, they used the same family name.

“Maybe Torax had the right idea,” Finn mused. The ambassador from a small backwater planet in the Outer Rim had suggested that Poe adopt a higher rank, Grand General, or Supreme General, to differentiate him from Finn.

“I told you, babe, I’m not doing it,” he said. “I don’t outrank you. We’re equals. End of story.” He kissed Finn’s temple. “Besides, all of those suggestions just reek of Imperial pretentiousness.”

“You’re right,” Finn said. “I’m just frustrated.”

“I can fix that,” Poe replied, snuggling closer.

“I’ll just bet you can,” Finn said, running his fingers through Poe’s hair. Pretty soon, Poe was sure Finn had forgotten all about the mission gone wrong. He certainly had.

***************************

“I don’t know how I can make it any clearer, General,” Connix said the next morning. “When they request to meet with General Dameron, I ask ‘Which one?’ If they say Poe, I give them Poe; if they say Finn, I give them Finn. And if they don’t know, then I ask a few questions to figure it out, but I don’t have time to play twenty questions every time someone comms us.”

“Well, it’s obvious they don’t always know who they want, even if they think they do,” Finn said. “We need to come up with a solution.”

“You could go back to being General Finn,” Rose suggested. “It’s not quite as professional, but it’s certainly clear.”

Finn shook his head. “I don’t want to do that unless we have to,” he said. It would make things easier for everyone, but he’d gotten used to being a Dameron and he still got a little thrill every time someone called him by that name. It reminded him that he had a family, a place in the world.

Poe nodded in agreement. “Yeah, let’s keep that as our final option. Maybe we just need to be more proactive. Instead of asking who they want, ask what they want and then tell them who they’re going to be dealing with.’

Connix nodded as well. “That could work. Divvy up the responsibilities between the two of you. For example, anything about defectors from the First Order goes to Finn; anything dealing with the Republic Navy goes to Poe.” She started tapping away at her data pad. “Yes, this is good. I’ll sit down with the rest of the staff and we can get a preliminary list to you by the end of the day.”

Finn relaxed in his seat. It was a relatively minor issue against the backdrop of galactic politics, but he felt better knowing it was taken care of, at least for the moment.

***************************

Rey was tinkering with an old cleaning droid when Finn arrived. “Hey, good news,” he said, sitting down beside her. He picked up a broom attachment that had clearly seen better days and raised an eyebrow at her.

She tossed the battered part aside. “Yeah, it might be beyond hope,” she admitted. “So, what’s your good news?”

“Dad’s coming,” he said. Rey immediately perked up. Kes Dameron, Finn’s father-in-law, was one of her favorite people in the galaxy, mostly because he was a fantastic cook.

“And I’m invited for dinner?,” she asked hopefully.

“Of course,” Finn said, bumping her with his shoulder. “Every day. There’s no way the three of us can eat that much, anyway.”

“Are you implying that I can?,” she said, pretending to take affront. It was a standing joke between her and Finn that she could eat him under the table. Poe was constantly amazed at the quantities the two of them could put away, but then again, he hadn’t grown up having to scrounge for every bite, like Rey, or having his nutrition carefully doled out, like Finn.

“I’m not implying it, I’m flat out stating it,” Finn replied. “Poe says we should have a separate line in the Resistance budget for the ‘Care and feeding of Jedi’ that’s actually just your grocery bill.”

“Hey, I earn every bite,” Rey retorted. “I live in the Falcon, more or less, and Force knows I don’t spend a single credit on clothes. Food is all I ask for keeping the galaxy safe.”

“A cheap price to pay to keep the Jedi master on our side,” Finn said with a laugh.

“So …,” Rey said. “Did Kes mention what he’s planning to cook the first night?”

Finn shoved her off her seat.

********************************

“Ugh. There are too many gods damned Damerons on this base,” Connix grumbled to Rose. “I swear, if those two have a kid …”

Rose laughed. “I know.” A small ship had just requested clearance to land, stating it had business with someone named Dameron. The crew barely spoke any Basic, and they’d had to haul C3-PO in from the other side of the base to translate before they could figure out that the ship didn’t want either of the Generals. They were delivering some supplies purchased by Mr. Dameron, who was planning to make an elaborate meal to celebrate some obscure Yavinian holiday that Finn has expressed curiosity about.

“I’m just going to start calling them by their first names, protocol be damned,” Connix said.

*******************************

“You can’t be referring to me by my first name when dealing with the Brexinti,” Poe told Connix. “They are very, very strict about the proper use of titles. I accidentally called the Premier Minister the Minister Prime and you’d think I killed a baby.”

“But they got confused that you both have the same title,” Connix shot back. “I was trying to make things easier for them.”

“I know,” Poe said, running his hand through his hair. “But they’re really touchy about using personal names outside of intimate situations. Like really touchy. Like, people have been shot for being too ‘familiar’ with a non-relative. According to their rules, only Finn and my dad can call me Poe. Everyone else is supposed to call me General Dameron at all times or their great ancestors will be offended.” He laid a hand on Connix’s arm. “I told them you were raised by feral loth-wolves and didn’t know any better and I think they bought it.” He winked and she rolled her eyes.

“You need to give me a raise, General Dameron,” she said.

**************************

“It surprises us that you share a title with your husband,” Premier Minister Flonx said to Finn. “Or should I say, that you share a rank with him.” She laughed nervously. The Brexinti did everything nervously, Finn had noticed. Dealing with them was like walking on eggshells all the time, everyone seemingly terrified of saying something offensive or uncouth.

“Well, our position is kind of unique,” Finn tried to explain. “When General Organa died, she made it clear she wanted Poe to take her place.” He noticed that Flonx blushed when he said Poe’s name, and he tried to remember that saying someone’s first name outside the privacy of the home was tantamount to showing nude holovids to these people. “Sorry, Commander Dameron,” he corrected himself. “So, when Commander Dameron assumed the rank of General, he felt that he wasn’t up to the task of replacing General Organa, so he asked me to be his co-General. We kind of invented the rank on the spot.” He shrugged. “We work together, and he has his areas of expertise, and I have mine. It works for us.”

“But … does it not get confusing to others?” Flonx asked delicately.

“Oh, yeah,” Finn admitted. “But we’re not as formal about things as you are here on Brexin.”

“I am aware of that,” Flonx said. “It was rather shocking to us, to be honest.” She ducked her head and whispered. “I would die of shame if anyone were to speak the Minister Prime’s first name in my presence and we’ve been working together for years. I … I still remember the first time my husband spoke my name.” She blushed deeply. “Oh, we should not be talking of such risqué things, General Dameron. You are a bad influence!” She laughed awkwardly, clearly embarrassed.

“You think I’m bad,” Finn said, “wait until you meet my husband.”

****************************************

“General Dameron!” The Minister Prime called out.

Poe and Finn both turned. “Which one?,” they said.

Minister Prime Taxli shook his head in irritation. “This is altogether too confusing,” he said. “If you don’t mind, I shall begin referring to you as First General and Second General. Premier Minister Flonx has told me that one of you was created General before the other, am I right?”

Poe nodded. “Yes, General Organa named me as her successor, and then I asked F— him to be my co-general.” He’d barely caught himself from saying Finn out loud, which would have made half the Brexinti in attendance faint.

“Very good, then you shall be First General Dameron, and your husband shall be Second General Dameron,” said Taxli. “And we can all get about our business.”

Finn leaned over and whispered in Poe’s ear. “I kind of like that idea.”

“It still sounds like I outrank you, which I don’t,” Poe insisted. He hated the thought of anyone thinking that Finn was less than what he was: a General and the finest being Poe had ever met.

“It has nothing to do with rank,” Finn insisted. “It’s just about timing. You were a general first, and then I became a general second. It makes sense, and if some people think you take precedence, who cares? We’re married, it’s not like you can walk into a gathering ahead of me, no matter how strict the rules of protocol are. Couples enter together, right? Side by side.”

Poe smiled. “Side by side,” he said. “I like that. Okay, Second General Dameron, think Connix will like it?”

“Oh, she’ll love it,” Finn said emphatically. “Anything to make her life easier. We really need to give her a raise.”

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