A/N: A little Leorai for you. I love the dynamic of these two and don't know that I'll ever stop writing them. I highly, highly recommend listening to Bonfire Heart by James Blunt while reading this piece.

Bonfire Heart

Your mouth is a revolver, firing bullets in the sky.

Your love is like a soldier, loyal till you die.

And I've been looking at the stars for a long, long time.

I've been putting out fires all my life.

Everybody wants a flame but they don't wanna get burned.

And today is our turn. –James Blunt

Karai leans against the rooftop wall, staring out over the city lights. It's a bitter night, her breath hanging before her in white puffs, her hands shoved deep in her pockets. The air stings her cheeks, and her eyes feel bright despite the darkness around her. The cold makes the golden globes lining the sidewalk below blurry on the edges, and she likes how they bleed into the night, little yellow lights, some fading before burning out.

Just beyond the path is the Hudson, black waters churning as the late night barges trudge through. She's grounded here, looking over the rush of nightlife in the city that never sleeps. Her heart is pounding, her tanto waiting, polished and ready in sheath. Japan never made her feel this way, and she'd lived there her entire life.

But that was before.

This was her now.

He leans against her, wrapping her in his arms. She exhales deep, feels a weight lifting from her breast. Maybe he'll let it go. He presses his chin to her shoulder, and she can almost feel the tug of his bandana tails snapping in the wind.

"They're not coming," she whispers as his breath heats her neck and she wants to forget why they are there. She wants to turn her head, to leave life behind them for a moment and to just be his.

He says nothing, turns his head and inhales deep. Her hair is blowing in his face and she thinks she should tie it back before they go down there. Then he presses his lips to her neck and hums. She gasps, and her heart sputters to life like a spark ignited. He reaches around, his three fingered hand caresses her cheek and her eyes close. She forgets what they came for, what they'd been fighting about earlier that night, and who they'd come to conquer.

"They're coming," he promises, and she wants him to be wrong. She wants them to be the only two beings in the world, steel on steel, damaged and resilient, light and dark and everything in between.

Something wet stings her eyes, and if he notices she'll blame the wind. She tips back her head and seeks his mouth, he catches her with his smooth cool lips, squeezes her tight then slips his hand through her hair and pulls her closer still.

She weaves her hand up between them, grabs the lapel of his long black coat and thrust him into the wall behind them. His head rocks the bricks and he shakes it off, his blue eyes like glowing sapphires, and she wants him. She wants him like she needs him and she hates it that he knows. He smiles, and she reaches for her weapon.

The waiver of his smile is slight. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"

Her nostrils flare, her hands wrapping around the hilt of her weapon, her fingers relaxed despite the clench of her jaw. She steps into a defensive stance and he feigns disappointment.

"Can't we just talk about it? I mean it's been five years, I thought-" he takes a step away from the wall and she launches at him. The tip of her blade drags along the bricks stopping just beside his cheek.

His mouth falls into a thin flat line and he glares at the shining silver, then takes a deep breath and knocks it away. He hasn't reached for his swords. Her heart pumps hard. He hasn't reached for his weapons, which means he's not playing. He's serious.

Her hand starts to tremble and a lump forms in the back of her throat. He's watching her as he picks up her tanto and brings it to her. "Most people don't get mad about this sort of thing," he whispers.

Her lip trembles and she can't look at him. Somehow she manages a response. "We aren't most people."

He sighs, reaches out for her and she swipes him away. Her eyes clamp shut and she struggles with herself. She struggles, with their long complicated past, with who she's become in knowing him, in what he's given her, and what he's asking for in return.

He never asks for much. He expects even less. And it works. He understands her. He's the only one who does. And it works. Her heart becomes a flame a burning, a terrible aching thing that belongs to him whether she likes it or not. And she likes it. Though she'd long resolved to never tell him, even as they lay intertwined on rooftops, and in the open fields of parks, and in his lumpy bed night after night, the seconds melting into minutes, dissolving into hours, and somehow it all bled together and turned into years.

He reaches for her again, she moves to block him and he counters, yanks her to him and his voice is firm, gentle but firm. "Look at me, Karai."

She screws her eyes shut, turns her head and he shakes her just a bit.

"Look at me," he repeats.

She's crumbling on the inside.

Somehow he's dismantled the wall she'd built around her, one brick at a time, and in its place he built a pyre and with a slip of his tongue and a lot of patience he's ignited a bonfire. Her throat hurts, aches and she can't stand it. She'd rather fight him. It easier to fight him. That's how they decide who wins or loses every petty disagreement. It works well they way they do they things.

But he can never leave well enough alone.

"Karai, look at me," he's strumming the strings of her heart with his voice, and his touch, and her resolve is slipping. Her chin drops toward her feet, her forehead brushing his chin as he holds her.

"Please," he takes it further, asks her nicely and she hates that. How did she get there? How did they get here, to this moment? How had it snuck up on her? She was a master kunoichi and he'd bested her.

Something wet slips down her cheek and she sniffles. Gods, she was crying? Her jaw shifts and her chest cramps as she tries to force herself to stop. The night had been fine, everything had been going well. They hadn't had a spat the entire day. In fact, they hadn't in a few days. A new record. She'd almost missed it, or at least the make-up sex that followed.

He was waiting. Not letting her go and as she tries to shove him again he holds her tighter, pulls her closer.

"You may as well look at me. I'm not going away." He holds firm, and she considers punching him but what he's asked of her bleeds through her ears and seeps throughout, melting her into a terrible useless puddle.

He isn't going away.

And she doesn't want him to.

A thick green finger guides her chin up and her eyes open, fixing on his handsome face. For as inhuman as he is, she's long thought him gorgeous. Over the years he'd matured, from goofy teen, who held a terrible Space Heroes leader as his idol, constantly spouting off lame lines, and always, always trying to sacrifice himself for the greater whatever… to a quieter Leonardo, with steady hands and an easy grace, yet still eager to sacrifice himself.

And if he ever succeeds, no one will ever even know his name.

The damned fool is okay with that.

Moist heat burns her eyes. How many times had he scared her like that, to save her, or a brother, or a friend, or for humanity. He'd lay it down and leave her alone and for that she hated to answer him.

"Fight me for it, Leonardo," she whispers.

Radiant blue eyes burn into her. He shakes his head just slightly. "No."

Something wet coats her lashes, blurs her vision. She sniffles again, loathes him, her only weakness, and presses her lips together. She wants to curse him. Why has he done this?

He frowns, brushes her cheek with his thumb, and wipes something away. "What is stopping you, Karai?"

He'll be dead one day. It will come. They'll be out, backs against a wall, and he'll do something insane and he'll leave her alone. His life, their lives, the way they live, it will be short.

"What kind of ending do you think heroes get, Leo? Hmm, how do you think this ends?"

He doesn't flinch and it infuriates her.

"I know how my story ends, Karai. What I want to know is how does our story end?" he guides her close, presses his lips to her brow and exhales. "Marry me."

Her chest shudders and all that she holds down breaks free. He has to say it again. He has to. He never lets anything go. He never lets her go. He won't fight her on this and she doesn't know what to do about that. He won't argue as to why she should answer him either and that brings her to realize he shouldn't have to. He doesn't beg. He doesn't plead. He just asks. He's asked her as casually as if they were burning dinner.

"Marry me," he says again, shifting so his mouth lingers over hers, that damn finger under her chin again.

She wishes she could breathe. She wishes she could think. She wishes their lives wouldn't be so short, that time didn't go so fast and that their victories were guaranteed. But there will be none of those things… Only her, and him, and fleeting moments.

Their mouths sweep together, and he tastes so sweet. His lips are soft, his movements are tender and he's just gentle enough. He's always perfectly balancing his control with his strength… He squeezes her just tight enough, in all the right places, and at all the right times. She's melting, her insides a raging wildfire that will never get enough of him and she'll shrivel up and fade away without him.

She can't say no.

It isn't even an option.

Because she can't be without him. So there's only one thing to be done. When the time comes, they'll have to go together because she doesn't want him to hurt for her either.

"Marry me, Karai," he says again, his voice the lifeline to her soul.

"You're a fool, Leonardo." She baits him, delays as long as possible.

He stays his ground, kisses her again, repeats himself. "Marry me."

She knows it could all fall apart, that something terrible could happen and leave one or both of them broken. But she also knows he gets that. He's thought of all the risks, of what's at stake and how badly it can go wrong. He knows she can be used against him, and he against her. But then he's always had his brothers, and it's no different for any one of them.

They can steal this for themselves and break every rule of every hero that has ever drawn breath. And she thinks she wants this. Thinks maybe she's a fool. She looks in his eyes and knows it.

"Marry me."

"I told you to stop saying that."

"No. Marry me."

She stares at him, can't breathe, can't think anymore. She wants him.

"Marry me."

"You know how this will end for us."

"Marry. Me."

"You know the risks."

"I do. Marry me."

"Leo-"

"Marry. Me."

She huffs, glares at him. He opens his mouth and she puts a finger to his lips. "If you say it again I'll cut out your tongue."

His lips are moving beneath her finger. "Marry. Me."

She's laughing through her tears. There is no greater feeling, there is no one who makes her so crazy, yet can make her feel like a girl again, like a silly, blushing teenager … something she never really had a chance to be. She can't deny him this, and she knows he knows it. She looks at him.

She sees him.

He stills, and with the calm, the patience that balances her, he waits.

She rolls her eyes. "Fine. But if you die and leave me here alone, I will come into the afterlife and you will wish you-"

His mouth is against hers, his hand behind her head. She grabs the tails of his mask, weaves them around her fingers, and they forget why they came, who they were there to fight. He smells like sweat and steel, he tastes like tea, he feels like hope and she'll never give him up.