Funny how some things stick in your memory; funny who you remember and how you remember them.
"Desperation fuels lots of things," he snorted. "Like you sleeping with a Gammorean pole dancer. That's desperation right there, on the Gammorean's part."
A FRevan/Bastila fic that kicks off at the Rakatan Temple summit. Words are exchanged, feelings are revealed; will Revan get her one wish? Who is the mysterious Jedi? Will she be able to shed light...
Bastila reflects on recent puzzling events.
"You're killing me with that one, beautiful." He tangled his fingers in her hair. "He hates me now, doesn't he?" Morgana looked up at him and smirked. "Of course he does. He's twelve."
"And what?" Dustil snapped. "She'll kill you too, idiot. You and me and father, one big, happy fracking corpse pile."