The usual disclaimer: No, I am not brilliant enough to have come up with the original Kick-Ass storyline, nor to I claim rights to any of the related plot or characters herein. That being said... Enjoy :)

When the Time is Right

The small form of Mindy McCready rose and fell beneath a carelessly thrown afghan. The rhythm of her breathing was peacefully methodic… and clearly indicated that she had fallen asleep. Hadn't even waited for the proper bedding, thought Dave, chuckling silently. As he set down the bundle of fresh sheets, still warm from the dryer, he couldn't help but assess the way Mindy had tossed herself onto the naked mattress where she lay. It looked so uncomfortable, he shook his head disapprovingly. She should have waited five minutes more and he could have tucked her in. But as Dave eased down on the hideout's only couch (a bit shabby, but like everything else there, clean), he checked himself. When was the last time he tucked her in? Maybe a year after they had met… What had she been? 12? And even then it seemed odd. She wasn't a little girl, and he wasn't anything close to being her father.

The old radiator ticked softly beside them. He welcomed the sound. Among other things, it had been (and was going to be) a cold night. Already the little heater made the room comfortable. So much so that even if Mindy never stirred that night from her haphazard position, Dave didn't fear she would be cold enough to miss the sheets.

Suddenly he stood again and strode over to the pile of discarded costumes, coats, and bags. Dave rummaged through it until he found his cell phone. The screen glowed to life at the press of a button. A message from Mindy's stepfather told him that the man had bought what he texted him about Mindy sleeping over at Katie's house. That was after the three of them had a fun, completely innocent night of "watching movies and eating pizza." He felt himself physically relax. Marcus Williams had bought the story hook, line, and sinker. That was good news. If he ever figured out what Mindy was actually doing with her weekend nights, that would be very bad news for her…. and very very bad news for Dave. Mindy's stepfather had expressly forbade her, and purposely in front of Dave, against ever fighting crime as Hit Girl again. But both she and Dave realized it was only a matter of time before she donned the purple wig and mask. It was in her blood. It was in her spirit. And that's what drew Dave to her so much. What made him want to protect her. Watch her. Be near her.

He found himself being pulled even now, as if magnetized, to where she was. He jammed the cell phone into the pocket of his jeans and began to study the face of his comrade against crime. All the wrinkles across the bridge of her nose and sides of her mouth, which were seemingly set in stone when she was hurling threats at thugs, were smoothed away now. In her state of rest, Mindy finally looked the 15 years that she was. All of her features were soft. They could even be described as… angelic. Her long hair encircled her face like a gilt halo.

Dave's thoughts stop short of their musing when his gaze landed on a menacing looking bruise. Black and purple, it stained the side of her cheek. He quickly spotted another red badge of courage coagulated along her hairline. And then another one: pink now, but soon to deepen in color, it was beginning to form across her upper lip. He involuntarily grimaced at this blemish, remembering how she had gotten it… Not by being thrown against a wall or slamming into the body of an adversary, but by connecting squarely with a 6 foot 4, 200 pound man's fist. No matter how many times she had been assaulted by these kinds of scumbags and ended up on top, it always seemed horribly wrong to watch a grown man beat a young girl. And no matter how much Dave had tried to kid himself during their misadventures, that's exactly what it was. Wrong.

Suddenly he wanted to touch, to feel the unevenness of the marring against Mindy's already full and perfectly rose-colored lips. As if he could, with his fingers, erase the pain and its adjoining memory that she would know in the morning.

He restrained himself. That was wrong too… somehow. He couldn't put it into words, but it had something to do with wanting to salvage what scraps remained of her childhood that were within his control to protect. That had been what her stepfather had wanted to do, hadn't it? By demanding that she give up the cape and mask?

He clenched his fingers until his knuckles turned white. This was so messed up. His reasoning, his logic, their nights of violence, her laying there now in peaceful rest, her rage, the blood she spilled, the parts of her spirit fate had managed to crush and mold it into this… their relationship.

His breath caught as she readjusted in her sleep. A strand of hair, previously tangled in her eyelashes fell away, like silk from her face. And he realized, he didn't want to touch her lips, he wanted to kiss them.

He froze.

His heart thundered inside his chest. This… This was what he was trying to shield her from. Not villains with their knives and guns. Dave couldn't keep her safe from them if he wanted. And Mindy could clearly protect herself from those things if she chose. Problem was, she actually sought them out.

What could protect her from (his throat grew thick with the thought) was this one thing: He could protect her from himself.

What Dave felt was something not Mindy, not Dave's family and friends, not even Dave's girlfriend had caught wind of. It was something he himself was just beginning to understand. Perhaps he had never been fully aware of it up until this moment, here, as he stood pathetically by her side like some voyeuristic creep, he thought. He closed his eyes. They were the sort of feelings a 15 year old wasn't meant to understand, shouldn't have to understand.

Then again, there were a lot of things in Mindy's life she shouldn't been aware of at her age. She should be worrying about crushes, going to friends' parties, her first dance, going on her first date. Yet here she was. She was no ordinary girl. She was beyond extraordinary next to her peers. She had lived a thousand years compared to them. Mindy was another creature entirely—A dangerous thing of beauty. An angel of light and dark. Something that Dave…

No. Dave's fists reclenched. He was the 20 year old in the room. And though he harbored the thoughts and desires of an adult, he also held the responsibility of one. It was his power; his right. To protect her from… Until she was ready to understand, however many years down the line that might be.

He hoped against hope she'd still look at him the way she did at 15. That fate wouldn't further mar the sleeping angel before him. One day, he prayed, he could tell her everything, revealing what he'd have to hide from her for years…. And she'd be ready to do the same. When the time was right.