It hit him hard one evening after he had stitched up her arm. She was sitting on the couch lacing up her boots. He was leaning against the doorframe watching her, and he realized he wanted her. Maybe not in the great, grand forever way, and not really even in the sense that he wanted her naked.
He just wanted her to stay.
He wanted her to fall asleep beside him, safe and sound, and wake up next to him and snuggle closer and refuse to leave. He wanted her to stay for breakfast, and complain about the programs he was watching on the telly. He didn't want her to run off and do god knows what and kill god knows who. He wanted her to let him take care of her, even though she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. He didn't want her to show up bleeding at his door, he wanted her to be on his couch with a cuppa.
As she finished tying her laces he sat down next to her and put a hand on her knee. His face wrinkled into a look of confusion, a look of momentary lost-ness as he searched for the right way to put it. He finally settled on short, sweet, and simple. "Stay." She looked up at him with a grin, assuming it was a joke, but she saw the serious expression in his eyes and her face slid into a soft frown.
"I can't. Things to do, people to see."
His chest tightened as she stood and headed for the door. He stood and followed her, gently taking her hand to tug her back to him, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. Then he let her go. She offered up a small smile and left leaving him standing by the door. He knew, but he had to try anyways. She was a free spirit and a ferocious one too. He couldn't keep her safe, no matter how bad he wanted to.