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mrs-gucci · 1 year

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It’s Just Politics (Part 1 of 2)

Commander Mills x senator!Reader (f)

written for my welcome back celebration, phase one.

y’all voted, y’all wanted me to write some more Mills, so here I am :) this is part one of two, so enjoy the beginning of the story and get excited for part two which will be coming soon!!

content warnings. accidentally walking in on someone naked (he walks in on her), implied/mentioned age difference (gap not specified, Mills is 36)

word count: 3.4k (...whoops)

summary~ Commander Mills reluctantly takes a last-minute job captaining the Senator of Somaris’s personal ship on a flight to Cyllene for this year’s galactic policy conference. Both of them get much, much more than they bargained for...but they’re not necessarily complaining about it.

"You're kidding me."

Jai shakes his head, continuing to submit order forms for ship parts.

"I'm dead serious, man. Travis wants you to do it, it'll pay well, and you won't be gone for that long. At least two weeks, it's just to Cyllene for the annual galactic policy conference. Simple."

"Nothing is ever simple with her, you know that. She's impossible to deal with." Mills huffs. "What happened to her captain? Why can't he do it?"

"Dunno. I think he transferred or is off on a long-range mission. I can't remember, but you should take it. Even though the Senator is a bit of a difficult client, she has a lot of power and could easily help you get a higher-paying job."

Mills knows Jai is right. He should take this job; he needs the money after paying for Nevine's treatments. He has to continue supporting his wife even if their marriage is a bit on the rocks.

"Fine," he says after a moment. "I'll tell Travis that I'll take the job."

Jai smiles, walking past his coworker and giving him a pat on the back as he does so. He lets out a soft chuckle. "Good man. Just...try not to kill her, okay?"

Mills hums, smiling ever so slightly.

"No promises."

***

"Are all of my dresses packed properly?" you ask the service droid as it begins to load your things onto the dolly. "It's of the utmost importance that they not be wrinkled. I want to represent Somaris to the best of my ability at this year's conference."

"Yes, Mistress," the droid says. "I made sure to pack each one myself."

You nod slightly. "Good. Thank you, I always appreciate your hard work, PZ."

"Of course. I am always at your service, Senator."

PZ finishes loading the bags and quickly takes them to the royal vessel while you prepare for the long journey ahead. You always hate going up into space, but unfortunately, it's an integral part of your job, so you have to do it more often than you'd prefer.

You walk to the docking bay, and you stop as soon as you see him walking towards your ship.

"You're kidding me."

Mills huffs out a soft laugh as he passes you. "Yeah, that's what I said too."

"Tell me you're not the one flying the ship. Please, please tell me you're not in charge of this trip--" You catch up to him.

"I need the money, alright?" Mills says, jaw clenching. "That's the only reason I agreed to it. Trust me, I wish I didn't have to, but there's hardly any work for pilots right now."

"No need to give me your whole life story, Mills. I won't cry you a river like others may have."

You roll your eyes and walk towards the ship ramp, immediately colliding with him. Apparently, he decided to step forward at that exact moment that you did. You huff and leave him in the dust, boarding the ship and immediately going to your sleeping quarters.

This'll be an interesting journey, that much you're sure of...

***

For the third time in the thirty minutes you've been flying, your water glass nearly falls onto the floor as the ship suddenly jerks to the side, then a bit downward, before returning to a steady state. You shut the computer off and walk to the cockpit, immediately hearing Mills's grumblings as he reaches across the controls console.

"I know you dislike me, but I didn't think you'd try any sort of murder attempt until much later in the trip," you say, crossing your arms as you stand in the doorway. "And I must say, I'm extremely disappointed in your efforts thus far."

Mills's jaw clenches once again. And here he was, starting to relax now that he's mostly figured out the new controls...

"For now, I figured having you get sick would be satisfying enough," he says, turning around to look at you. "The murder attempts will be much more obvious, I assure you. Plus, keeping you alive until after the conference is in my best interest, so I get paid for at least half of the trip."

You chuckle dryly. "Fair point. Now, are you sure that all of your licenses and qualifications aren't expired? Because you're flying this ship almost as badly as I do, and I don't have any licenses."

"I've never flown a ship with such unnecessarily complicated controls," he replies simply. "This is a class of ship I'm not used to handling."

"Mm, mhm. Sure, my ship's definitely the problem. You could never be at fault for not having flown a diverse range of ships in your many years of being a pilot...because you're old."

He huffs. "Really, you're resorting to calling me 'old' now? You can't find any more halfway decent or clever comebacks in your apparently vast bank of them?"

You smirk slightly. "So you admit that my comebacks are clever and good?"

"No, I said they're clever and halfway decent," he says, unable to help the tiny upward twitch of the corner of his mouth. "Big difference. Also, I'm not old."

"Everyone who's old tried to say they're not old. If you're over 40, you're officially old."

"How old do you think I am?" He looks back at you.

"I dunno," you shrug. "Like 40."

"Fuck, I'm 36," he grumbles, turning back to flip a switch on the panel. "Go back to your quarters, Senator. I'll try to keep the ship under control, although I doubt it'll be to your very high standards."

You turn and begin to walk away. Suddenly, the ship dips again, and you nearly lose your balance, falling into the wall. You whip your head around and hear the softest of chuckles from the cockpit, rolling your eyes at the sound.

"Just do your damn job, Mills."

***

Mills sighs as he flips the autopilot switch and prepares to head off to his sleeping quarters. He probably should've asked where his quarters were before takeoff, but honestly, he didn't even think of it at the time. He was too busy dealing with you.

As much as he hates to admit it, you actually intrigue him. You're young, beautiful, and incredibly hard-headed. All qualities he saw in his wife when he first met her.

Several doors line the hallway, and Mills picks the one closest to the cockpit. It opens, and it's a closet filled to the brim with luggage and garment bags. He huffs, then shuts it promptly.

He moves to the next door, already mentally checking out for the night. When it opens, his eyes widen.

You're standing completely bare, applying your body lotion before you dress for bed. You turn around and gasp, quickly covering your breasts before turning away.

"Get out!"

Mills, for a moment, can't bring himself to move. Fuck, it's been a while since he's seen a naked woman, and you're so--

"GET OUT!" you exclaim, looking back at Mills. "OUT!!"

He suddenly snaps back into reality, muttering an apology before shutting the door and letting out a shaky breath. He tries to commit it all to memory: how your skin shone in the dim lamplight, your plump breasts and hardened nipples, the beautiful curve of your hips...

Turning away, he walks to the final door in the hall, which contains a small cot. He puts his things into the small dresser and tries not to revisit his memories of your body. It's highly inappropriate for him to lust after a woman years his junior, especially since he hates you, and you two have yet to have a non-argumentative conversation.

Suddenly, the door slides open as Mills takes off his shirt. He turns around and sees you, now dressed in a nightgown, looking absolutely infuriated. But he doesn't miss how your eyes dart down his body momentarily.

"What is wrong with you??" You ask angrily, glaring up at him. "Why didn't you close the door right away? Why'd you keep looking at me? Are you some kind of pervert or something?"

He huffs, turning away from you.

"No, I'm not a pervert. I just froze up for a moment. I was surprised. I thought the room would be empty...it won't happen again. It was an accident."

"Mhm. Aren't you married? How would your wife feel if she saw you staring like that?"

"Yeah, well, she and I aren't exactly on the same page these days," he says, pulling his sleep shirt on before turning to you again. "So what, you wanna see my dick, make us even?"

Well, kind of.

You huff, crossing your arms. "No," you say. "Because I'm a lady and would never do anything like that."

Mills chuckles. "Mhm. You just keep telling yourself that."

He reaches for the pants resting over his hips. "If you're such a lady, I suggest you head out before you see anything improper. God forbid."

"Goodnight to you too, Captain."

***

Mills's quarters are open when you pass by, so who wouldn't be curious about what secret life this guy could be living? You look around, then step inside. It's very basic; he's brought almost nothing personal. Well, almost nothing. You spot a holoprojector lying on his bed.

Is the great Commander Mills enjoying some pornography during his downtime?

Chuckling softly at the thought, you pick it up carefully and turn it on, purely out of curiosity. What comes up is incredibly unexpected. It's a young girl playing with a toy ship. Suddenly, it clicks in your mind: this is his daughter. Before she…

You scroll to the next one, and the next, and the next, watching only a few seconds of each. Then, you reach one where she's looking much sickly. She's got a nasal cannula in, and her cough, which you noticed throughout the videos, is much worse.

And then, you flip to the very last side. It's the voice of your wife, hand on your daughter's lifeless one.

Oh no—

"What are you doing?"

You gasp softly, startled at the sound. He's calm, but a certain edge to his voice sends a little chill down your spine.

"I-I..." you don't have an answer. "I thought this was something--"

"Give that to me," he snaps, snatching it from your hands and turning it off. "This is my quarters, my personal space. What's so hard to understand about that, huh?!"

You open your mouth to speak. He doesn't allow it.

"I would never think to step into your room and look through your belongings. You think just because you're a senator that you outrank me and can do whatever the fuck--"

"That's not it!" you say suddenly. "It was wrong, alright? I'm sorry. I made a mistake. I let my curiosity get the best of me. I didn't think you'd have anything like that."

For a moment, Mills is genuinely surprised at your quick admittance of guilt. He thought you'd surely make up some bullshit excuse as to why you're in here looking through his daughter's holo memories.

Just seeing that bit of the final holo of his daughter already has him tearing up, but there's no way in the galaxy he's gonna cry in front of you. He looks away, setting the holoprojector back down on the top of his dresser.

"Go."

You're at a loss for words. Look at what you've done; you've violated his privacy and forced him to relive such an awful memory. All because you wanted to get some dirt on him. It all seems silly and stupid now. "Look, Mills, I'm really--"

Tears are threatening to slip down his cheeks. He needs you to leave before you see him break down.

"Leave!" he snaps again, although his voice is much shakier this time. "Leave me a-alone!"

You swallow harshly, then walk back towards the door. You pause for a moment, looking back at him, seeing how his whole body shakes as he tries to keep his sobs.

"I'm truly sorry."

He says nothing, waiting until the door closes to let out the quiet but violent cries he's been holding in.

When dinner rolls around, you sit in the same seat you usually do at the small table. Except there's no sign of Mills anywhere. He's stayed on the bridge with the door shut all day. PZ brings out your meal, then sets Mills's down at his usual spot.

"Where is the Captain?" PZ asks. "Will he not be joining you for dinner this evening?"

You shrug slightly, looking over at the bridge door. "I don't know, PZ. He hasn't left his pilot's seat all day."

"Well, perhaps I should--"

"No," you interrupt. "You don't wanna irritate him. He's had a rough day. I'll take it to him if he doesn't come out."

PZ nods, then walks back to continue checking on your dresses. You sigh softly and eat alone, occasionally looking over at the door. Nothing.

You really don't wanna take the food in, but you know it's the right thing to do. Plus, it'll give you time to hopefully apologize again for earlier without him yelling or getting too upset.

With a deep breath, you press the 'open' button, and the door whooshes, revealing the tall back of the pilot's chair. Various controls on the panel flash and beep. He reaches over to silence them.

"Yes?"

You step forward. "I have your dinner. I figured you wouldn't wanna come out to eat with me--"

"A correct assumption."

"...so I brought your dinner in here."

He nods. "Thank you."

You set the plate down to the side.

"Look, I'm really sorry about what happened earlier," you say sincerely. "It wasn't my place to snoop around your quarters, and I apologize. I also...I didn't know about your daughter. I'm sorry about that, too."

Mills says nothing but turns around in the chair to look at you. After a moment, he nods slightly. "Thank you for apologizing. And I'm sorry that I snapped like that. It's just a hard thing for me to revisit."

"Of course, and I completely understand why you reacted the way you did. I deserved that, but you didn't deserve to have your private life violated like that. I'm sorry, truly. I feel terrible about it."

He's very much surprised by your sudden remorse and show of emotion. You rarely soften like this, and it makes him wonder if he's jumped to conclusions too soon. Maybe you're not always the hard-ass, demanding, a stubborn politician you make yourself out to be.

"All is forgiven, Senator. I promise it's alright. I appreciate you apologizing."

You nod, offering him a small smile. "Great. I'd hate for us to be on shitty terms for the rest of the journey."

"Agreed," Mills nods. "Thanks for bringing my dinner. I'll see you tomorrow, Senator."

"See you tomorrow, Captain."

***

"Wait, wait..." you start, huffing softly. "You're telling me we have to stop on Zexade for fuel? I thought this ship could carry enough fuel for the entire journey. I've never had this problem before."

"There's a first time for everything," Mills replies simply, flicking a few switches on the dashboard. "We had to take an alternate route around a nebula, which took more fuel than anticipated. Zexade should have what we need."

"How long is that gonna take? We cannot be late to this conference, Mills. It's super important that we arrive on time--"

"You'll get there on time, Senator. You insisted we leave two days earlier than we needed to. Do you not remember that?"

Your jaw clenches. "I recall that, yes. But I've been late before, and it was absolutely humiliating. I want to be sure I'm there in advance to begin talking with the other senators."

"The refueling stop shouldn't take more than a few hours. We're on schedule to arrive on Cyllene early." He rolls his eyes. "There's no need to worry about anything. I have it all under--"

A loud crash is heard, and the ship lurches. You stumble, quickly gripping the wall for support.

"Everything's under control, huh?" you ask bitterly. "Then what in the world was that?"

The control panel and the proximity sensor start beeping frantically, and Mills groans. He was worried that something like this would happen. More shots are fired at the ship, and he dodges most of them.

"Get out of here! Strap into a chair or something!"

"What is it? Why are they shooting at the ship--"

Another bold hits the ship and takes a few pieces of paneling off. You nearly fall again.

"Pirates," he says. "They want the ship to salvage and possibly take us hostage for ransom money. Now get into a seat before you get hurt!"

You run back towards the emergency seats, but then you see the hatch for the gunner position. You know at that moment what you need to do. The ship dips again, and you fall into the wall with a soft groan, but you climb into the gunner seat before any more sudden jerks.

Mills' eyebrows furrow when he hears static from a headset hanging on top of a control panel. He lifts it up and puts it on, thinking it could be some sort of communication from the pirates.

"Get me into position," you say, flipping switches and pressing buttons rapidly, warming up the guns. "I can take them out."

"What the fuck are you doing down there?! I told you to strap in--"

"Fuck strapping in; I'm not just gonna sit there and wait for you to let the ship be torn apart. These pirates are gonna take us out if we don't put up some sort of defense."

He knows he should focus on the pirates, but he's still trying to wrap his head around that you apparently know how to operate the gunner position. He's also trying to wrap his head around that he's about to take commands from you.

"Alright, alright," he says, adjusting the headset quickly before swerving more shots. "Do you have a shot?"

Your jaw clenches. "Do you think, if I had a shot, I would have told you to get me into position?!"

This is gonna be harder than he thought.

"Can we save the biting wit and snarky remarks for when we're not getting shot at by pirates, please?!"

"Fine," you huff. "I've almost got a shot on one of the ships. Take a sharp left and drop her down a bit."

He does what you say, and you quickly shoot the pirate ship down, which explodes and takes another one out. You smirk, mentally high-fiving yourself.

"Suck it!" you say into the microphone, forgetting that it's on. "You just got shot down by a fucking senator, losers!! Ha ha!"

Mills listens and allows a slight smile to tug at the corners of his mouth.

"Your mic is still on, Senator. But thank you for that wonderful piece of audio," he says, looking over at the proximity map. There are two more ships left. "I'm gonna pull up really hard and try to get you a clear shot on the two smaller fighters. Can you do that?"

Your cheeks warm with embarrassment. "Y-Yeah, yeah, of course, I can. Just get me into position, and I'll take care of the rest."

"Good." He chuckles softly and suddenly pulls up, accelerating rapidly.

You keep your hands on the trigger buttons, holding on tightly as the ship climbs almost directly upwards. The pirate fighters are obviously confused but follow, climbing with us.

“Do a corkscrew maneuver!” You say into the mic. "Now!"

"What?! You want me to do a what?! You're crazy!"

You growl softly. "Trust me, just do it!!"

Mills grips the steering wheel tightly and begins to spin the ship around and around, cursing you in his head as he begins to feel nauseous. Your eyes narrow, and you shoot at the vessels, hitting one, then the other.

"I got 'em! We're clear!"

He slows, returns the ship to the usual level state, and sighs, running a hand through his hair. Goddamn, that was fucking crazy. You're...incredibly quick on your feet, and you ultimately made the right call.

Between your genuine apology and this sudden show of badassery, it's almost hard to believe that Mills is starting to actually like you. He'll never admit that part out loud, but it's true.

You emerge from the hatch and walk to the cockpit, releasing shaky breaths. The adrenaline is still flowing as you head towards Mills' chair.

"So..." you start. He turns and looks at you, and you offer him a teasing smile. "How much longer to Zexade?"