Farrah stood on the balcony at five thirty searching the red morning horizon for a set of wings. To avoid any snarky comments aimed at her attire, or lack thereof, she had dressed in a purple silk halter top and one of her body hugging black skirts. She hoped the big bow on the back of the neck of the shirt did not make her look as if she were wearing a collar.

There was a knock on the door which instantly made her lips stretch into a smile. Hawks was trying something new today by using the front door. Her bare feet were soundless as she padded along the cool marble tile floor, forcing herself to advance to the door at an unhurried pace.

After unlatching the safety chain and throwing back the deadbolt, she twisted the knob and pulled open the door. Expecting to see the handsome blonde winged hero, shock made her freeze when she saw the man dressed in a blue sharkskin suit, his bald head as shiny as his suit.

Although she recognized him immediately as Kanahara's second in command and his recent successor, he had the element of surprise on his side which prevented her from reacting in time. The man raised his hands, palms open toward her, to unleash a blast of wind which picked her up off her feet and tossed her down the hall.

Farrah landed on the hard, unforgiving floor behind the couch flat on her back. The excruciating impact pushed the air out of her lungs, preventing her from screaming. Who would save her anyway?

Lifting her head, sucking in wheezing breaths, she saw the new second in command step from behind his leader in the fancy suit. She assumed they had both come to avenge their recently deceased boss whom she had blown to hell where he belonged. The man raised a gun aiming it toward her. Seeing the gun motivated her to flip over onto her belly. Raising up onto her hands and feet, half crawling and half stumbling, she skittered into the kitchen. Her eyes were on the feather knife still stuck in the cutting board.

However, the man had not been aiming at her. The first few shots hit the impact resistant glass with loud taps followed by the creak of cracking but not breaking glass. He continued unloading the gun into the glass as she came around the kitchen island, edging her way along the wall toward the end of the hallway. The last bullet shattered the weakened glass sending a shower of diamond like particles all over the floor.

Farrah stepped out into the hallway when she heard the click of him ejecting the spent magazine to insert another one into the semi automatic weapon. Flinging the knife like a performer in a circus, the blade found its target, sinking into the man's bicep.

He bellowed in pain, falling to his knees as the gun clattered on the marble tiles. His boss standing behind him raised his hands preparing to hit her with another stunning gale. At least she was not going to be shot by a bullet.

"Dammit," she gasped, turning to run.

Panicked, hoping Hawks would be early again, Farrah bolted toward the broken window, her only path of escape. The shards of glass stabbed her bare feet as she ran over them. When her feet hit the floor again driving them deeper into her flesh, she yelped in agony but charged through onto the balcony. Before she could grab hold of the metal guardrail to anchor herself, the powerful gust of wind at her back threw her up and over the banister.

So this is how I die, Farrah thought fatalistically when her body became airborne. She always assumed Enji Todoroki would be the one to do her in. He had burned her figuratively in so many ways, killing her softly with many emotional deaths until he dealt the final blow with the announcement of his engagement.

Farrah feared she was a dead woman for sure the day she encountered him at the Inn. It would only be fitting if he was the one to take her life with his flames. His quirk, along with his relentless and selfish ambition, made him the number one hero after all. It certainly was not his charming personality that catapulted him to the top spot.

She had no intention of stopping just because Enji asked her to cease and desist. She had her way of getting justice; he had his way. So what if he did not agree with her methods. She did not agree with how he treated the people he supposedly loved. After their meeting in the park, she believed his thinly veiled threats, even the unspoken ones. She completely expected to be incinerated by his flames when he caught up to her again after another righteous kill.

Ah, well, my life never has gone to plan anyway, Farrah thought, closing her eyes.

"Shit," Hawks muttered under his breath not believing what he was seeing as her body hurdled out into the open air.

Lucky for her, speed is his thing. He could save her with a single feather, but it would be more fun to catch her in his arms. Besides, she seemed to be unnecessarily worried about him 'wasting' his feathers last night.

Thrusting himself forward like a guided missile, he locked on to her descent. Coming in under her, he caught her in his arms and continued to drop to allow the gravitational force to disperse through her body rather than bringing her to a gut wrenching stop.

"Oh, my god," Farrah gasped, opening her eyes to look at him in shocked awe.

"Hey, I don't recall getting this breakfast to go," he joked.

Farrah was not amused as she continued to stare at him with eyes roughly the same size of their dinner plates last night. As if getting the breath knocked out of her once was not bad enough, it was now being stolen by fear and their rapid descent which was slowing but he was not putting on the brakes fast enough for her.

The sideways grin dropped from his face when he noticed the golden color had fled from her face leaving her ghostly white. She was close to fainting. Not surprising considering the speed with which they were still moving despite his gradually bringing them out of the free fall.

"Put your arms around my neck and hold on tight. You're going to pass out," Hawks warned her when he angled his body upward to change their direction from down to sideways, flying horizontal to the ground to avoid colliding with it.

Farrah did as he told her, sliding her cold hands under his collar and lacing her fingers together behind his neck. She opened her mouth as if to speak but before she could say anything her eyes rolled back in her head revealing the whites as she lost consciousness. Her arms, the muscles probably locked due to sheer terror, held fast around his neck.

Hawks tightened his arms around her limp body, holding her close as he ascended. Hearing the applause and cheers of the people on the sidewalk below, he took a moment to acknowledge his admiring public, indulging in a low altitude flyover while waving at them.

"Wh-what h-happened?" Farrah stammered, her head rolling from shoulder to shoulder when she woke back up.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" he inquired, ascending steeply to clear the traffic lights and trees.

"Kanahara's man. Takada," she said.

"The blow hard? The one who took over?" he questioned her.

"That's the one. He was...he was...there...and...,"she panted. "I can't breathe."

"I'm not sure if it's the the thin air or a panic attack but take slow, deep breaths," he suggested. "You're safe. I got you."

"Where are you taking me?"

"To my place. Where you'll be safe."

Hawks took her to his little stand alone apartment perched on the roof covered in fake green turf. Only being seven stories up seemed kind of a short building for the winged wonder, but it was the tallest structure in the residential area.

The apartment consisted of three rooms: an open kitchen, dining, and living area with a separate bedroom and bathroom. It was neat and tidy, cozy and charming. Not the kind of place she expected the flirtatious bachelor to live in. She expected mismatched furniture picked up from the side of the road for décor along pizza boxes and empty beer cans spread around as accents.

Hawks took her straight to the bathroom, sitting her on the side of the small tub just big enough to sit down in. The water might reach his shoulders if he filled it up to the top and hunched over.

Snatching the showerhead off of the hook on the wall, he turned it on, waiting for the water to warm up before he sprayed it on her feet to wash off the blood and glass.

"Ow," she hissed when the water stung the open gashes like liquid fire.

"I'm sorry," he apologized without glancing up at her. "I know it hurts."

"Here," she said, reaching for the sprayer. "I can - "

"No," he cut her off, pushing her hands away from the showerhead. "Let me help."

"Okay," she reluctantly agreed, leaning back against the wall when he pulled her foot up to get a better look at the bottom.

"Stay still," he said, turning off the water.

Hawks went to look under the sink for the first aid kit. Opening it, he withdrew a pair of tweezers. Pausing in front of her, the light gleaming menacingly off of the two pronged implement, his eyes met hers from behind his yellow tinted visor he had not yet removed.

"This is going to hurt," he said, kneeling down beside the small tub.

"I know," she replied, giving him a smile to show she was okay, although she most definitely not okay. She was trembling uncontrollably from the adrenaline still circulating through her system.

Hawks chewed his lower lip as he set to work dislodging the remaining stubborn shards. He was as careful as he could be, stopping if she hinted at being in pain with a little twitch or hissing inhale. When the last piece was removed, he washed off her feet again then wrapped a towel around them.

Despite her protests of being capable of walking, Hawks picked her up then lay Farrah on the double bed with the bookcase headboard in his bedroom. He piled up the pillows behind her so she could recline and be more comfortable but she stayed sitting up, her back ramrod straight.

"Don't move," he ordered her, shaking a finger in her face. "Relax. That's an order too."

"Yes, sir," she replied, laying back on the pillows. "But I'm really okay."

"You're not but whatever. The cuts are still bleeding and need to be bandaged," he said from the bathroom while retrieving the first aid kit. Sitting on the bed at her feet, he pulled out the antiseptic and cotton balls. "This is going to hurt."

"When are you going to do something to me that doesn't hurt?" she inquired, managing to give him a sly smile despite the discomfort prickling the bottoms of her feet.

"Soon I hope," he replied honestly, flashing her his self-assured smirk. "Now. Take a deep breath."

The antiseptic on the open cuts felt like a million ants stinging her soles at once. Walking was not going to be fun for a while. She closed her eyes and concentrated on anything but the burning of the antiseptic so she could avoid reacting to the pain.

"What were you thinking?" Hawks asked her as he wrapped her feet in gauze.

"I wasn't," she admitted, staring at the ceiling because she was too embarrassed to look at his face.

Improvisation and thinking on her feet (ha ha) had never been her forte. Farrah was accustomed to having time to plan, to mentally run through all possible scenarios and outcomes, including mistakes, in order to plot successful assassinations. She required advance notice and details. She only operated well with forethought and without being hurried or forced to make decisions under duress. In school she had failed every single pop quiz simply due to freezing up under the sudden stress.

When faced with two pissed off yakuza, the human hurricane and the other with a Glock, of course she freaked out. She had absolutely panicked and done something so stupid. But they blocked an escape route to the door so she had not other choice but to run out onto the balcony. If Hawks had not been there, she would be a bloody pancake on the sidewalk.

"Thank you," Farrah said, pushing herself up on her elbows so she could see his face.

"For what?" He did not look up at her as he began wrapping her other foot.

Farrah sat up so she could reach him, gingerly touching his cheek. Her cheeks warmed when he glanced up at her with his gorgeous golden eyes shielded behind the yellow visor. She smiled as he blinked at her, undoubtedly wondering what she wanted.

"You're my hero," she told him in a throaty whisper.

A crimson blush precisely the same intense shade as his wings started at his forehead and flooded his face to continue down his neck as if someone had poured the color over him. His mouth tilted into a sheepish grin rather than his typical arrogant smirk.

"You're stuck with me, you know that?" he asked her.

For the third time today, Farrah felt like the air had been squeezed out of her lungs. "Wh-what?"

"Well, for a few days at least," he began, carefully tying off the bandage at her ankle. "You're not going to be able to walk for a little while so I will be forced to wait on you hand and foot."

He winked at her as if to drive home the pun whether it was intentional or accidental.

Farrah loved his quick wit. What she did not like, however, was feeling like a burden or that she would be an inconvenience to him.

"I can walk," she insisted, swinging her feet over the side of the bed as if to demonstrate. She immediately regretted her impulsive action when the blood rushed to her feet making them throb.

"Oh, no you don't," Hawks said, carefully gripping her ankles and lifting her legs back up onto the bed. "I'm sure you can, but you shouldn't. You are ridiculously stubborn."

Farrah lay back on the bed, feeling a little dizzy. She was not sure if it was from the pain or her body reeling from the adrenaline released during her impromptu flight.

"You don't have to take care of me," she muttered like an obstinate and pouting child.

"Trust me, I wouldn't do it if I didn't want to," he assured her, standing up. "I'll be right back."

Hawks went to the other room then returned with bottles of water. He handed one to her along with a pill for the pain, then proceeded to drink his water while leaning against the wall. For a long moment he stared off into space at nothing particular as if he were in deep thought.

Farrah stayed quiet, sitting with her back against the pillows and sipping her water. Out of pride she felt the need to continue arguing with him, to deny his help. But the unmistakable facts of her predicament kept her quiet. Like a dummy she had ran over the glass, ripping up the soles of her feet, and now she was stuck. She had no one to blame but herself.

"I suppose I'll have to take a few days off. I don't think I can leave you here alone without you doing something stupid like getting up and walking around," he said, placing the bottle on the nightstand.

"I feel so stupid. I'm sorry," she apologized, not knowing what else to say as he sat down on the bed beside her.

"Don't be," he returned, cupping her cheek with his hand. "I wanted to get you into my bed. This just isn't how I planned on doing it."

Farrah's heart thumped hard in her chest, the rapid beating filling her ears and deafening her to anything but its sound. She blinked rapidly to avoid staring at him. Her eyes slid away from his as he tried to maintain contact. Raising the bottle, she finished off the cold water hoping it would cool her down inside and out. She was sure she must be as red as his wings.

Hawks chuckled, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. She held her breath as his soft lips contacted her skin for the innocent show of affection.

"You're so sweet," she said, pressing her forehead into his chin.

"And you're definitely not the femme fatale I expected you to be," he rejoined, pressing his palms to her cheeks. Pushing her back, he forced to make and maintain eye contact with him. "Why is that?"

"Because..." She licked her dry her lips before answering. "I genuinely like you."

"Oh?" Smiling broadly at her, he placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. Pressing his forehead to hers, he whispered, "I like you too."

"What do we do now?" Farrah asked, taking hold of the lapels of his jacket.

Hawks sat back on his behind, reluctantly pulling her hands away. "Now I make a phone call," he said, standing up. "Then we need to have breakfast like we planned on. Aren't you hungry?"

"Starving," she lied considering her frightening and exciting morning had completely destroyed any appetite she had for food - or sex.

"Give me a minute."

Farrah fell back onto the pillows and closed her eyes when he walked out to make his call.

"Where are you?" Endeavor barked into the phone.

"I've missed you too, boss," Hawks quipped, stepping outside onto the roof.

"Is she still with you?"

"She is," he confirmed, standing on the low cement wall painted white surrounding his rooftop nest.

"Are you going to bring her in?"

Hawks stepped off the wall, extending his wings to glide down to the street below.

"No," he replied flatly as his feet touched the cement sidewalk.

A group of school boys, all around the age of fifteen or sixteen, walked past him laughing and punching each other in the arms. They did not seem to notice him at all. As he watched them walk away, he tried to imagine Enji Todoroki at that age, young, carefree, and in love with the woman in his apartment.

"You're harboring a criminal," Endeavor reminded him.

"As far as I know, no charges have been brought against her, and there are no warrants for her arrest," he quickly reminded his superior in turn.

"She's dangerous," he argued. "A killer."

"She's not what you think she is," Hawks countered not allowing the irritation rising inside of him to come through in his tone. "She's no heartless murderer. Besides, she would never hurt me."

Endeavor sighed in exasperation. "You think that but - "

"Takada tried to kill her," Hawks informed him to change the subject. "He blew her off the balcony of her hotel room, but I caught her. As usual, I arrived just in time and my epic speed saved the day."

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone line. Hawks smiled and waved at a young couple walking arm and arm and grinning from ear to ear when he passed by them.

"Since you did not take her to the hospital, I'm assuming she's all right," Endeavor remarked gruffly, sounding more agitated than concerned.

"She was injured. But she will live," he said, continuing down the street.

Hawks smiled and waved at two grannies sitting at the bus stop who grinned at him and waved first. He purposely did not tell Endeavor about the nature or extent of Farrah's injuries. Why should he when the man obviously did not care anyway?

"I need to take a few days off, sir," he requested being strategically polite.

Another long silence then a huff of annoyance.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Endeavor asked him.

"Yeah." Hawks could feel the malicious smile forming on his lips. "She needs me."

"Fine," he grudgingly consented. "If something happens to you while she's in your custody, it's no one's fault but your own. You better have your ass back here at work a week from now."

"A whole week? Gee, thanks boss I - "

Endeavor disconnected the call. Hawks chuckled impishly and put away his phone.

Farrah was close to drifting off to sleep when she heard the door hinges shriek announcing Hawks' return. She rubbed her sleepy eyes as she sat up.

"Okay, I got rice balls and sushi, meat buns and noodles," he said, plopping down beside her on the bed so hard it bounced her upward.

Placing the bag on the bed between them, he pulled out two bottles of milk. She hated milk but would not dare to tell him as he lifted both bottles for her to choose.

"I got banana and strawberry. Which do you want?" he asked.

"Banana," she replied, holding out her hand for the bottle. She did like anything flavored with banana.

"Hope your appetite didn't go away. Sorry it took so long," he apologized, tearing open the crinkly cellophane around the meat bun.

During his absence, her tummy started to growl so she was happy to see the veritable smorgasbord of convenience store food. He must have bought one of everything in the cold case. Although she had been looking forward to a Western breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast from the room service menu, she certainly was not going to complain as she picked up the container of cold noodles and dug in with the chopsticks.

Between the two of them, they polished off the entire bag of random food items. Upon having a full belly, her drowsiness returned.

"You should get some sleep," he told her, picking up all the empty packaging and putting it in the plastic bag. "I'll be in the next room if you need me."

"Hey, Hawks," she called to him when he was about to close the bedroom door.

"Yeah?" He poked his blond head back inside.

"You really are my hero."

He smiled at her, a sincere, friendly smile. "I know."

Farrah settled back into his bed, closing her eyes. Nestling in his pillows, where he lay his head at night, she inhaled his scent. That unique blend of a sunny day and the earth after a rain, filled her nose and soothed her frazzled nerves.

Her shaking fingers moved across her forehead where he had kissed her and lay his forehead against hers. Her heart skipped a beat then hurried to catch up. A smile, tentative and nostalgic, a little bit sad, pulled up the corners of her mouth.

Her hero. Her sweet angel who saved her from one terrible fall yet she found herself tumbling into another kind of freefall. She had forgotten what it feels like to be in love.