BB-8 needs a polishing. He's picked up some oil streaks and, in the oil streaks, bits of dirt and hay.

He trundles along next to Poe, who looks very much the same. Engine grease, dirt, a coating of sweat tacking down his tank top and his hair. His jeans are filthy, he's got a plaid shirt knotted around his waist, and he feels--dangerously, maybe stupidly--happy. There's something about spending a day at work and seeing tangible results at the end of it. Fixing primitive farming machinery is both a puzzle and a pleasure. It's so simple that the simplicity itself starts to be complex.

More than a good day's work, though, Poe remembers. He remembers Kes Dameron. Kes the rancher, the tracker, the father, not the file he's had BB-8 recite to him a half-dozen times. He remembers his dad's face.

So there's a bounce in his step and an obliviousness in his attitude when he walks into Go Ask Alice to get a coffee. Until he catches sight of a familiar blonde head and freezes.

BB-8 rolls a few more feet before halting, looking back, and chirping a question.

Shit.