a/n: You know shit's gettin serious when I break out the Hozier.

Thank you for the comments, lovelies. You're wonderful.

my babe would never fret none
about what my hands and body done
if the lord don't forgive me
i'd still have my baby and my babe would have me
Hozier, "Work Song"

She waited until after dinner to unveil the third surprise. They ate leaning next to each other at the kitchen island like a couple of savages who'd never heard of tables and chairs, and after they stacked their dishes in the sink she sent him to wait on the couch. She didn't make him close his eyes this time, and when she appeared from the kitchen she carried a small tray that she set on the coffee table with a flourish.

"Tada! Chocolate mousse to celebrate two weeks with no attacks, maimings, or other life-threatening injuries! I'm so proud of you!"

He stared at her a moment before he dropped his face into his hands. His shoulders shook, and when he lifted his head again his face was red. He was trying desperately to glare at her, but he couldn't stop laughing. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"It's your favorite, right? I thought such a special and momentous occasion deserved the best."

"Is this just jell-o pudding in fancy glasses?"

She looked insulted. "It's chocolate mousse, Nicholas! I made this. From scratch. This morning while you were sound asleep."

"It's mean to tease me about something so serious."

"I would never," she said. She scooped up a bite and offered him the spoon. "Have a taste. I'm about a whole lot more than bread and muffins, baby."

"That I do know." He took the spoon and popped into his mouth. The rich, creamy chocolate exploded over his tongue and he closed his eyes in bliss. "Holy shit. Wow."

"Good?" she said. Her expression was anxious, which didn't surprise him. She knew how good she was, but still she doubted.

He spooned up a bite and waved it her way. "Try it and find out."

She reached for the spoon but he pulled it back. She glared at him. He grinned. She let out a brief sigh, rolled her eyes, and leaned forward, lips parted. He started toward her, but then at the last minute veered away and ate the bite himself.

"Rude!" she said, laughing. "That was mine!"

"Oh, I thought we were sharing."

"Then share, butthead."

"Butthead?! That's how you ask me to share?!"

A huff. "I'm sorry, dear Nick, that I called you a butthead. Both your head and your butt are lovely, and very very separate. Now may I please have a bite of the chocolate mousse I worked so hard to make? Because if you're not going to share I'll just take mine and go home."

He pretended to think it over. "Yeah, okay," he said. "Close your eyes."

"What?"

"You made me do it this morning. Close your eyes."

Something in his face made her pulse do a funny skippy thing, but after a moment she did as he said. She heard the spoon scrape the glass, but then instead of feeling cool metal against her lip, she felt the gentle brush of his finger. She opened her eyes as he pulled away and licked chocolate from his thumb, and the blood rushed to her cheeks.

He smirked at her, the slow lazy one that always got to her. "Got something on your lip there."

She touched her tongue to the bit of chocolate and the pupil went big in his good eye. They watched each other, the space between them filled with everything they'd spent the last two weeks avoiding. Everything she'd been so careful about.

"You missed some," he said.

She lifted her brows in a question and leaned closer. He touched his fingertip to the center of her lower lip, then slid his hand around to tangle gently in her hair. Her breath left in a soft rush and her eyes closed as he rubbed his thumb over her full mouth. Her chin lifted in invitation and she started to sign something, but he took one of her hands in his free one to stop her. His nose brushed hers and just before their lips met she jerked away.

"Stop. Please," she signed.

His brow creased in confusion. Had he completely misread what was happening? She'd wanted him to kiss her. She'd done that head lift thing. She'd leaned in and closed her eyes and he knew he wasn't imagining things. "What's wrong?" he said.

"I shouldn't have—" Her hands fluttered as she cast around for the words. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have." She rose and started toward the bedroom, but he followed her. Tapped her arm and turned her back to face him. He kept his touch gentle, easy enough that she could pull away if she wanted to, but she didn't resist.

"Am I crazy?" he said. He scrubbed through his hair and lifted his hands in a confused shrug. "Is that the problem? Because if it is, okay, I accept that. Tell me I completely misread the signs, that I've been misreading the signs practically since the moment we met, that I misunderstood everything on the deck the other night, and I'll accept that and we'll move on like this never happened. You know I'm not trying to push you into something you don't want."

"I know that," she said. "You wouldn't do that."

"Okay, then?" She said nothing, just looked away and wrapped her arms around herself like she wanted to shrink and disappear. "I'm not mad," he signed, with less urgency than before. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her. "I just want to understand."

"There's nothing to understand, Nick. No, you didn't misread anything. At no point have you misunderstood me. But that doesn't change anything."

He frowned. "Kai, please, help me out here. You're saying…you did want…what almost just happened to happen?"

She threw out her hands in frustration. "Yes! Yes, I wanted you to kiss me. I've been wanting you to kiss me. I've been wanting to kiss you!"

"Then I'm not sure I get the problem."

"It's me!" She jabbed herself in the chest. "I'm the problem!"

He was beginning to see what this was about, but she had to be one to bring it up. He couldn't push her or she'd just run off and clam up and all the walls they'd torn down between them in the last few weeks would be back again, stronger and higher than ever. "How could you possibly be the problem?"

She spun away with her face buried in her hand, and when she turned again tears glimmered in her eyes. "Do you know what Flagg said to me in that dream? The one I had the night you woke up?"

He knew that she, like him, had finally met Flagg that night, and he knew he'd made her an offer. Nick had told her some of what Flagg had said to him, minus anything about her, but she'd stayed mostly quiet. Now he gave a slow shake of his head. "Tell me."

"He said…he offered to make me a queen. Not his queen, because virginity is apparently a requirement for that position, but a queen. He told me I belong with him, not with Mother Abagail."

"And you believed that? He's full of shit, Kai! He told me"—he gritted his teeth a moment, unsure, but then carried on—"that I could have you. That he would give you to me, like—like some sort of—concubine or something!"

That brought her up short. She hesitated, brow crinkling and smoothing as she contemplated. "And you said no?"

"Of course I did. Why the fuck would I want that? Yes, Christ, I want you. He's not wrong about that. But I want you, not some weird fake slave version of you. That's a fucking nightmare idea!"

That seemed to confuse her completely. "I don't understand."

He sighed and his anger drained away. He'd never been mad at her to being with; just this whole frustrating, stupid, fucked-up mess they were in. He took a hesitant step closer, but didn't try to touch her. "Which part?" he said.

She shook her head. A tear fell from her lashes and slipped down her cheek. "I'm a mess, Nicky. A mess worthy of playing queen to the devil. Or some weird version of him, anyway. Wouldn't it be easier to have me—the way he offered? Rather than like this?"

He smiled, soft and sweet. "Of course it would, but why the hell would I want easy? You're worth the work, Kai. All the best things in life are." He waved toward the table, then at this own face. "Like homemade chocolate mousse or hand-sewn eyepatches."

She crossed her arms again and fought off a shiver. "You don't know me as well as you think you do."

"Then tell me," he said. "I know you're afraid, but I'm not."

"No." She turned away, and this time when he stopped her he wasn't quite as gentle.

"Kai, just tell me. I'm not going anywhere. Do you get that? Whatever it is, I'm staying put."

She swiped at her cheek and poked him in the chest. "You're a runner. You told me that yourself. What would keep you from running now?"

"You!" He jabbed his finger at her and lifted his arms to emphasize it. "You, goddammit! I finally found what I needed to stick around, and it's you! So tell me whatever it is that's got you so tied up in knots, and then we'll figure out what happens next. I'm done running, Kai, and you're not going to change my mind about it!"

It was clear that she wanted to believe him, but the need to guard her secrets was so deeply ingrained he wasn't sure he was getting through. Finally she closed her eyes and slumped against the wall. He waited. She lifted her hands and began to sign.

"When I was fourteen my parents died. I was sent to live with my biological father, and while my Grandmère was alive it wasn't too bad. He drank too much and yelled at me a lot, but life's a bitch." She looked at him then, watching his face to study his reaction.

"She passed not long after I turned sixteen. Things got much, much worse after that."

"You said he was abusive," he said.

She nodded. Bit her lip. "He escalated, first to constant insults. Vile things sometimes, like that I was a slut and a whore…that's the clean version." A brief sigh. "Then hitting, though not very often, because if I showed up to school bruised and battered people would start to talk. It…got bad…when he started coming into my room sometimes when he was really drunk."

His face changed, and she held up a hand.

"Not that bad. He never actually touched me. He just—said things. And…well. He never touched me, and I was grateful for that, but it seemed like it was only a matter of time until things changed. Maybe he was waiting for something, I don't know."

"But then he died."

Their eyes met. She lifted her chin and straightened up from the wall. "Yes," she signed, crisp and businesslike. "Because I killed him."

He waited for her to continue, but when she didn't he lifted his hands in a shrug. "Okay."

She blinked. "That's your response? Okay?!"

"What else do you want me to say, Kai? You told me you wanted me to kiss you—"

"Well, yes, but—"

"And that you're desperate to kiss me—"

"Nobody said desperate!"

"And now you're saying you can't because you killed your abusive father." He made a brief gesture of frustration. "He belittled you. He hit you, and eventually it sounds like he would've—" He broke off and clenched his fists, then relaxed them. "He would've raped you. Sounds like you did what you had to do to protect yourself."

Her mouth fell open. "Nick—"

"What if it were the other way around?"

"What?"

He waved his hand. "What if I told you that when I was a vulnerable kid who just lost his parents, I was sent to live with a man I'd never met who abandoned my mom when she was pregnant with me because he was afraid I might be born…flawed. This complete stranger was cruel to me, and the only person who offered me any sort of comfort or safety died, and I was stuck with him. He beat me. He was sexually inappropriate. He said horrible things to me on the regular. So I killed him, because I was trapped and there was no other way out. What would you say to me?" He thrust his finger at her, and then hard into his own chest to emphasize the you and then the me.

"It's not—" She gave a hard shake of her head. "It's not the same!"

"How?! How is it not the same, Kai? What makes you so goddamn special?!"

She surged toward him. "What the fuck does that mean?!"

"It means you're so hellbent on being a martyr to your own past that you refuse to accept there might be any other way. What did you think I was going to say when you told me? That I hate you? That you disgust me? Is that what you said to me back in Jane Baker's bathroom?!" His signs were rough and fast, infused with his fury and passion.

"That is not the same!"

"How the fuck do you think anyone I've ever told has reacted before you?! It hasn't been that many, but a few. Some of them freaked out immediately, and a couple others acted cool but then got weird. No one. No one has just accepted it!" He broke off and drew in an uneven breath. "Until you."

"It just—Nick it's—" She scrubbed her face with both hands. "It was just sex work, Nick. You have…a skill…and you used it. You also worked on farms and as a line cook and on a cargo barge in Lake Michigan."

"You shot Ray Booth."

"To save your life!"

"Okay! You killed your dad to save yours. It's the same thing."

"I planned it! I put digitalis in his bottle of Jack and draped a blanket over his shitty old space heater, then I went to work." She chewed her thumbnail. "The ME said he didn't inhale any smoke, so he was already dead before the fire started. They ruled it a heart attack and I got a really big life insurance payout."

He lifted a brow. "Bonus."

"It's not funny, Nick!"

"It is a little bit! Kai, for fuck's sake, you really let Randall fucking Flagg convince you that you belong on the Dark Side because you killed someone who really fucking deserved it to stop him from hurting you?! Come on."

He reached for her, but she knocked his hands away. "It wasn't just him! Maybe I do belong—on the Dark Side." Her shoulders slumped. "Maybe Mother Abagail is wrong."

He mulled that over. "Then maybe she's wrong about me, too."

"Don't be ridiculous," she said with a snort.

He just looked at her. She glared back. He dipped his head to hide a smile, because he was afraid she might cut it off if she saw it. He stepped closer and cupped her face in his hands. Her eyes were wide but otherwise steady. He rubbed his thumb over her mouth, something he didn't think he'd ever get tired of doing.
He leaned in, moving slowly so that she could stop him again if she wanted to. But this time she didn't. He pressed a kiss to one corner of her mouth, then the other. Her lips parted on a breath that he caught and gave back to her and then his mind blanked because there was nothing but her: kissing her, tasting her, the softness of her skin and the heat of her mouth.

Her fingers tangled in the curls at the back of his neck and his hand slipped down to her waist to pull her against him.

He tasted sweet, and a little bitter, like the fine chocolate she'd used in the mousse. His lips were unbelievably soft, and he kept the kiss easy and gentle. It felt like the first day of spring after a long winter: stepping into the sunshine and shrugging off all the old and dull for the new and bright.

When he finally broke it she tried to pull him back for more, but he leaned away. She frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"No," he said. He let go of her and took two steps back. Tucked his hair behind his ear. "No, everything's—it's perfect. That was…perfect."

Her frown deepened. "Okay, then…? What's happening?"

It took every ounce of self control he'd ever had not to grab her and kiss her until they were both breathless and drunk and…well, naked—but he knew he couldn't. Instead he took a deep breath and hoped she would understand. "Do you remember what you told me about how you sometimes use sex to escape from feeling your emotions?"

Her jaw dropped. "Who said anything about sex?"

He just looked at her, brows raised.

She let out a huff of irritation. "You are real fucking sure of yourself for a guy who keeps pissing me off."

He smiled and stepped closer again. Ran his knuckles along the line of her jaw and up the curve of her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into the touch and she was incredibly glad he couldn't hear the hungry little noise she made. He seemed to know anyway, based on the glint of amusement in his eye.
"I don't want you to be running from anything when you're with me, Kai," he said.

A line of consternation formed between her brows, but at last she nodded. "I don't want to be running, either." She bit her lip. "You really—weren't tempted? By his offer?"

"For a split second. Before I realized what he meant. Once I did—no. I wasn't at all. I wouldn't want anyone—like that. But you?" He shuddered. "I told him"—he gave a rough chuckle at the memory—"that you're the ocean, and he was offering me a puddle."

Her breath left in a rush and color flooded her cheeks. "Ohh."

He grinned, good eye twinkling. "Right?"

She swatted his arm. "Don't ruin it!"

"Sorry, sorry!" His expression sobered. "It's true, though. And I promise it's not because I've imprinted on you like a baby duck."

"I know it's not," she said with a wince. "It's just—Sandra Bullock told Keanu Reeves that relationships based on intense circumstances never work out, and she was right, because by Speed 2 they were over and she was on that cruise all by herself. I mean, sure, Jason Patric was there, but—"

He took her hands in his and kissed the center of each palm. "You're right, and so was she, but I know how I feel. So trust me, okay? Please?"

"I do trust you. You're the only person I've ever told about my father. You couldn't have pried it out of me with the jaws of life if I didn't trust you."

"But you thought it would make me hate you."

She lifted her hands in a dismal shrug. "Sarah would've hated me, I think."

He sighed. "Kai, no offense, but from everything you've told me, Sarah was a judgmental—" He broke off with a scowl.

"Judgmental bitch, it's okay, you can say it. She was. Not always in a bad way, but…yeah. It was part of why I fell in love with her, to be honest. But then one day I realized I wasn't in some special excluded from Sarah's judgment club."

"So you banged the chef."

Her lips quirked, ruefully. "It was well before I banged the chef, but it's definitely part of why."

He studied her a moment. Then, "I'm not the chef, Kai."

She blinked, confused. "I know that. Of course you aren't."

"You aren't either."

"That's not…I never thought—"

"You. Aren't. Either," he said again, each word emphatic and firm.

"Nick—of all the things I've worried about, you fucking me to avoid actually having to break up with your judgmental ex is not one of them. And that's not the only reason I slept with Remy. He was very tall. And hot. And had a really big—"

"Okay!" He held up a hand. "I don't need to know about that."

"I was going to say record collection, but sure, make it dirty."

"Okay, well, I don't want you for your record collection, either."

"Good, because I left it in Abilene. Can we please go have our mousse now? It's going to get warm."

"Yes, yeah, just one—" He reached for her, but she was quicker. She stepped into him, took his face in her hands, and pulled him down for a long, slow kiss. His breath was warm against her mouth and he squeezed her hips with both hands and she pressed against him with a quiet sigh. The kiss deepened, turned hotter and hungrier, and his tongue slipped across her lower lip, but she pulled away with a gasp.

"Behave, Andros, or no dessert for you."

He smirked, buried both hands in her hair, and tugged her back to him. This time her lips parted in invitation and his tongue dipped between them to slide over hers slow and slick and sensuous. They fell against each other and her fingers plunged into his dark curls and his palms traced the smooth lines of her back. The taste of her, the heat of him—she pulled him with her as she leaned against the wall and he went, pressing his body full-length into hers and gripping her hips to tilt her even closer.

The kiss broke long enough for her to gasp out his name, something he saw and felt even if he couldn't hear it, and he lost all chance of coherent thought. It was just her, her, her, Kai, like a wave crashing over him and this was just a kiss holy shit what were they getting themselves into?!

When they finally parted they were both wide-eyed, flushed-faced, and panting. They stared at each other, and finally she let out a little laugh as he tugged a hand back through his tousled hair.

"So…mousse?" Except he used the sign for moose because he couldn't remember the other due to the lack of blood reaching his brain.

"Yes," she said with a nod. "That."

He gestured for her to precede him, and after taking a moment to collect himself, he followed her. He believed what he'd said earlier about taking it slow, and he planned to stick by it—but good Christ he was a fucking moron, and it was going to be a long night.

aw finally! now y'all know Kai's secret and the kids kissed. what a mixed bag of a chapter.