A/N1:- Didn't intend for this to be Chapter 2. I fully thought I'd be showing the return to Safehouse A here, but, well this is what my came out of my head...

Chapter 2

Same day, half an hour later…

Home of Dave Lizewski (174th Street, Jamaica)

Despite having raised the possibility that these letters were not actually from Mindy's father, I was about ninety percent sure they were. Both Marcus and Mindy had stated it was his handwriting – I didn't doubt they wouldn't recognise it as did my father from when he knew Damon in prison.

But, I knew Mindy would believe anything that was purportedly from him just because she trusted him so much, and I knew that it'd be really easy for the remaining D'Amico's – Chris, Angie and Ralph; Frank's brother – to set Mindy up. All it'd take would be a few enquiries to that asshole, Vic Gigante, in the NYPD.

"I really hope for Mindy's sake that these letters are the real deal." I murmured absently.

I looked up at my dad. He didn't say anything from where he was seated across the kitchen table from me. He just sat there, watching…

I just sat there watching the thoughts flit across Dave's face.

He didn't realise it, but he was in love with Mindy. He was always thinking about Mindy, talking about Mindy this and Mindy that. His relationship with his first girlfriend was over, not that Dave realised it; he still thought of Katie as his girlfriend. She'd always claimed to be 'in love with Dave,' but now that my suspicions that Dave was Kick-Ass had been confirmed, I knew she wasn't; she was in love with Kick-Ass, not Dave.

Knowing what I now know, it was fairly obvious. When Dave last put on the wetsuit over two and a half years ago, Katie had been with Dave almost every day, and when she wasn't; she was either calling or texting him trying to beg him not to go out as he could hurt himself – which he could. They'd even slept together, had sex – Dave didn't know that I knew, but it should have been obvious since I did the laundry – you name it. But once she had managed to get him to hang up the costume, they'd slowly drifted apart until he began to care more for Mindy.

Mindy believed Katie was cheating, claiming she'd seen her with another guy, and I had a feeling she was right. Time to make my son realise the truth: "You break up with Katie?" I asked.

"No!" Dave said suddenly. "Why would you say that?"

"No reason," I stated pleasantly. "Just you rarely speak to her, and I can't remember the last time she came round."

"It was…" Dave's voice trailed off as realisation hit him. He couldn't remember.

"Now, when was Mindy last round?" I grinned.

"Day before yesterday," Dave said without even having to think. "We were doing that persuasion essay for Mrs. Zane. You know…"

"Stop right there," I said cutting him off. "You just made my point. You're not with her anymore."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." I nodded. "In fact, if what you were murmuring about Mindy is anything to go by, I'd say you care more for her."

"Well yes, I care for Mindy. She's smart, beautiful, attractive and funny." I smiled, listening to this description of Mindy. I hadn't asked Dave to describe Mindy, but that was what he was doing. "She's the strongest person I've ever met. She can do anything she puts her mind to…." I had to frown at that. Wasn't I the strongest person he knew? "I love her…"

"You love her?" Dad was smiling, and could feel myself smiling too. "You're in love with Mindy?"

I blinked as I thought about what Dad had just asked. Did I love her? The more I thought about it, the more I realised that I did love her. She was never out of my thoughts, even when we were apart. For instance, when I was doing that essay for Mrs Zane, I kept wondering if Mindy was doing it at the same time, I knew she'd be going on at me for not doing it immediately. She was driven to do the best at whatever she did, and she expected the same from those she cared about – which came down to three people. Me, my dad and Marcus. And, the thing was, I liked that about her. She worried if I didn't show up and be fearing the worst, and I'd be the same with her.

"Yes," I told my dad. "I do."

"Now tell me," Dad asked. "What exactly are you thinking?"

What should I tell him? I'd been thinking about what Mindy's dad had said in my letter.

He'd been telling about why I shouldn't give up being Kick-Ass, explaining that while I may not have known how to fight, I had something even better… courage and bravery. He told me that most people would have just stood by and let that guy probably get killed outside that doughnut diner.

Damon was right; most people would have let that guy be killed right in front of them. As I'd been reading, I could think of nothing more than to do just as he said and put the costume back on, but I knew I couldn't; I had no fighting skills what so ever. Of course, Damon had factored that in. Telling me I had more resources than I thought: 'There's two people who can train you in the skills you need; my daughter, Mindy – whom you know as Hit Girl – and a friend of mine from when I was in Sing Sing who is a guard there and a former US Marine; you call him "Dad."'

"Would you train me?" I asked suddenly. "I mean if I put the costume back on? Because, if Mindy does go back to being Hit-Girl, then I'll be doing what her dad asked of me."

"With your physical fitness certainly," Dad nodded. "Besides, I'm not exactly in the best of shape myself these days – unlike ten years ago – and could do with a reason for getting back in shape. But for fighting skills, you're better off getting from Mindy."

"Then, I'll do what he said." I grinned. "Because, like I said in that YouTube video: I'm Kick-Ass!"

"You made the right decision," Dad was smiling again. "Now go tell her how you feel."

Dave laughed. "And just how am I supposed to do that with Marcus hovering over our shoulders…"

"I'm sure, you can think of something," Dad said, walking up to the kitchen bunker, where he tossed a set of keys at me.

Catching them, I looked dumbfounded at what I was holding. "These are the keys for a Ducati! How on Earth…" I trailed off as realisation hit me in the ass yet again; out of everyone I knew, only Mindy could afford to." I looked.

My dad was now holding a cube-shaped box wrapped in green paper with a yellow bow stuck on the top. "The bike is from Mindy," Dad said, stating the obvious. "This is from me; though she wrapped it. Said my wrapping abilities are woefully lacking…"

That was true, they were. My dad easily pack a big massive ILBE pack, but he couldn't wrap worth a damn. Taking the box, I pulled the yellow bow off, and carefully unwrapped the box. Inside, was a black open faced but with a clear visor, Shark SK motorbike helmet.

O-O-O

"Wow!"

The bike was an iceberg white Ducati Multistrada 1200 S. At the rear of the motorcycle were two rigid black panniers, one on each side, with a top box above – all trimmed with silver. This was the bike I'd been trying to save for since I'd gotten my license a year ago. I couldn't believe she'd bought it for me. Sitting on the rider's seat was a note. I smiled, when I saw who it was from. The flowing joined letters were easily identifiable as Mindy's: 'Dave, I got you the bike, because I know you fucking wanted it; and I know that no matter how much you save, you'd never have enough.'

That was true. He'd barely reached the thousand-dollar mark and the bike before him was worth about thirty thousand dollars. Reading on, she'd written a list as to what she'd had customised. The bike had in addition the top box and panniers: an aluminium protective grill for the radiator, a complete engine cover plate for the underside of the engine, carbon front and rear mudguards as well as a complete racing exhaust system with a titanium silencer.

I shook his head at that. Just what did Mindy think he'd be doing on this bike – Racing through the streets of New York? No, that was more Mindy's thing to do. In Dave's case, she was ensuring he had the means to get away from danger in the quickest possible way without putting him in control of a superbike.

She'd written a bit more: 'In the top box, you'll find my purple helmet. I'd keep it at my house, but Marcus would start asking why I have one.'

"But if I keep it," I thought aloud. "Marcus will just figure I bought it for her knowing she'd be riding the bike with me…"

'…I know you'll enjoy the bike. All my love, Mindy.'

"That girl is love with you," my dad said appearing over my shoulder. I looked back down at the note. After her name, she'd drawn a love heart that had been bisected with an arrow.

"You think?" I asked.

"Definitely," Dad answered. "She only used profanity once, and she wouldn't buy anyone a Ducati. Then there's that love heart. "

My father took the helmet from my hand, and slid it on my head. "Now go to her."

Looking down the driveway, I could see the gate next to the sidewalk had been opened. I took the hint as Das stepped back allowing me to mount the bike.

Settling into the seat, I started the bike. The roar of the bike wasn't deep, but it was definitely powerful and I knew I was going to enjoy this. All that was missing was Mindy seated behind me with her hands on my waist.

It was with that thought, that I rode the bike out of the garage, before speeding away towards Mindy's house.

A/N2:- Please review