Disclaimer: I do not own Constantine.

Author's notes: Thanks for the reviews. I'm doing my best to keep them IC.

VI

Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand
Henceforward in thy shadow. Nevermore
Alone upon the threshold of my door
Of individual life, I shall command
The uses of my soul, nor lift my hand
Serenely in the sunshine as before,
Without the sense of that which I forbore -
Thy touch upon the palm. The widest land
Doom takes to part us, leaves thy heart in mine
With pulses that beat double. What I do
And what I dream include thee, as the wine
Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue
God for myself, He hears that name of thine,
And sees within my eyes the tears of two.

She watched him walk away from her, but she felt as though he were still there.

Seeing him again had brought back so many memories of what happened three months ago. He had saved her and Isabel, saving himself in the act as well. Killing three birds with one stone, she liked to call it privately.

She would forever be in his debt and he would forever be on her mind. And now that she had seen the world through his eyes, would things ever be the same again?

To her lips she pressed the hand that had touched John Constantine only minutes ago. She hid a smile, reveling in his scent. He had a particular scent, like pine or grapes…something odd but something she definitely admired.

As she drove home, her mind was still on him. They'd both been to hell and back and she felt a bond with him – a bond she'd felt with no one else; a bond that could not be broken, no matter what.

This bond had made them one. She had another name she liked to call their bond – love.

Love. She was too afraid to say it aloud. But she already way too deeply in love with him. She wasn't sure when it had happened but she thought about him all the time, about how life made more sense now that she'd met him. It had been a pleasant surprise to find him outside the station and she'd sensed an urgency in him to see her. It was endearing that he was uncomfortable in her presence. He looked like he'd wanted to say something to her…and she'd wanted to tell him so badly how she felt about him.

But would a man like John Constantine accept her love? She knew he was a private person and he harbored his own fears and insecurities. It wasn't likely that he would take her declaration very well.

But it was worth a shot. Love always was.