Huh. "Didn't know that." But it makes sense, in hindsight. She looks back down to the planet below. "Life goes on, huh?"

"Yep," he leans his cheek on her, "Whether you want it to or not."

Snuggle. "Wouldn't have met you, if it hadn't."

"So, worth it, right?" 

She turns into him and pulls his face against her.

"You're an idiot, Atton Rand. And you're mine. If I could turn back time, change everything... I don't know. But knowing that you would be here, being mine, it's worth everything. I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. Was always so afraid. I'm not afraid now."

He wants to avoid her eyes, but can't. 

"I..."

His hands clench, unclench. He manages to pull his gaze away, look down.

"...yeah."

"I'd've taken 'nice consolation prize', you know."

She laughs as she kisses him.

"That's your ass, actually." She squeezes said ass. "I'm vain like that."

He snorts, "Yeah, sure. I gotta be useful for something, right? Pilot and booty call, that's me." 

Future husband, she adds.

Another kiss. "Best booty call in the galaxy."

Kiss!

Kisses and snuggles.

Though eventually: "You're stalling."

"Yeah, maybe a little." 

"Me too," she admits. "I'm scared. Not of Kreia, or opening my thoughts to her, but of... well, you know the last time I was fully connected to the Force."

"Right. You sure you wanna do this? We can just wait for T3 to call, or the station security has any luck."

She shakes her head. "I don't want to do this, but we're going to. If T3 could have contacted us, he would have already, and do you really think station security is going to be able to handle whoever took the ship that had Kreia on it? This has to be connected to the people hunting us."

He sighs, "Fine, fine, be all sensible about it. How do we do this then?" He looks around, taking in all the pillows and blankets on the floor, "Or are we doing a slumber party instead?"

"Maybe later," she laughs, and pulls him down onto said pillows. "You probably already know how to meditate, to clear your mind of thoughts and feelings?"

He sits! "Sure, yeah. First step to filling your head is emptying it." 

"Good. Let's start with that." She crosses her legs and takes his hands in hers. "I'll follow your lead."

"Uh... sure," he crosses his legs too, "Okay, I'll just..."

He closes his eyes, settling into a slow pattern of breathing, easy as that. He has to stop himself from reaching for a distracting thought pattern, but that's not too hard - he does sometimes just think about nothing. 

Good.

She breathes with him, settles into the warm emptiness of his mind. A safe place. A place of his own.

But there is something, just beyond... brushing up against the confines of his mind. It's always been there. Reinforcing, strengthing. It's familiar...

She senses it, so he does too. He- flinches back from it, though. It's one thing to know he's force-sensitive, another to... 

She lets him take a breath.

Seperate from your fear. Your thoughts of pain and war. From hate.