Mako's Message: So. Another chapter. Not as soon as I wanted it be, but at least it wasn't another week. And I don't care what the date says, I got this up on Tuesday. Suck it technicalities!

Hmm… I don't know what else to say here, so I'll just thank all who reviewed the last chapter, as reviews always lift my spirits, encourage me, and help me improve the story.


It wasn't a quick shower, but I wasn't waiting long either. After the water stopped running it was only about a minute before he came down the hall in the middle of buttoning up his shirt. I called out to him as he was about to walk by my room.

"Oh, hey," he said, leaning against the door frame, "So how was the party?"

"I don't want to talk about the party." He looked confused so I elaborated for him, "What the fuck was that about?"

"What was what about?"

"You stopping me and fighting them yourself you dickhead."

"Oh, that," he said and walked into my room, closing the door, "I wanted to protect you."

I had no idea what to say to that. I had no idea how I felt about that. Part of me was pissed the fuck off that he of all people thought I needed to be protected and wanted to hit him. The other part of me… the other part of me wanted to touch his face. What the fuck is that? Touch his face? Where the hell does that come from? What kind of emotion IS that? Why would I do that? And I guess I spaced out again because the confusion, because the next thing I knew Dave was saying my name.

"What? Why the fuck would you think I needed to be protected? I could have taken both of them without any problem."

"How would you have explained that? To those girls? To Katie? She knows I'm Kick-Ass and she's not stupid. It wouldn't be hard for her to figure out who you are if she saw you fight. And what would Marcus do if he heard about it? If one of them got lucky and did this to you," he pointed to the bruise starting to form beside his eye. "You have a chance at a normal life now. One that isn't full of blood and gunfire. You're a great girl Mindy. You lost your mother, you lost your childhood, you lost your father, but you got your revenge. The man responsible for that is dead and you deserve a chance at peace. I'm not gonna see you lose that over a couple of fucking douche-bag candy thieves."

I wanted to kiss him.

I wanted to run over, leap onto him, wrap my arms around him and kiss him again and again and again.

I didn't though.

I just sat on my bed and stared at him and before I knew it I was crying. He ran over and put his arms around me. My hands clenched into fists around his shirt and I was ready to tell him to let me go when he whispered, "It's okay. It's okay to cry."

When he started talking, I was pissed off, but then when he said the next part… I knew he understood. I didn't know why I was crying, but I did know I was mad at myself for crying, and he knew that I was more upset about crying than about whatever it was that made me cry.

I pressed my head into his chest and wrapped my arms around him and squeezed. We sat like that for a moment as I got ahold of myself and when the tears stopped I punched him in the kidney.

"Ow" he groaned, letting go of me and falling back onto my bed.

I just smirked at him and told him to stop being such a pansy.

He just lay there for a moment with his shirt half open, and ya know, he looks like a skinny little dude, but he does have some nice muscle definition on him.

"You did good though," I said finally, "your technique was really rough but you had some good moves."

"Really?" he said, sitting up some.

"Yeah."

"Heh. Thanks," he said, smiling at me. Then he suddenly pulled his feet up and turned around on the bed to assume an exaggerated version of what he calls his "gay best friend pose" that he'd perfected during the months he'd been hanging out with Katie before they started dating,(I still can't believe he pulled that off without getting his ass beaten into the ground. I mean, shit, he rubbed lotion on her while she was TOPLESS for christ's sake.) and asked, "So, how was the party?"

I couldn't help but laugh.

He patted the couch and said, "Spill."

So I did.

We talked until Marcus came in and told us that Dave either needed to go home to go sleep on the couch. Dave opted for the couch.

Marcus closed the door after Dave left and told me to get to sleep. I was tempted to argue just on principle, but I was oddly tired, so I just pulled off the Kick-Ass suit and crawled into bed.