Never scared of anything, he's never given it a second thought before charging through the door to face God knows what.

But now it's even worse. It's like he thinks he's Superman or something, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.

He's playing Russian roulette, taking idiotic risks to protect me, idiotic because I can look after myself, leaving me torn between wanting to punch him or kiss him.

I'm scared that his luck, and mine, will run out. I'm scared of how much I want to...fuck him.

He better not be faster than a speeding bullet.

---

I've always known I'd live fast, die young and leave a tall, dark and beautiful corpse. I became fearless because I saw no good reason to help bastard fate along, because I couldn't afford the mistakes that fear brings.

And then I was teamed with Doyle. I started to think that I might even make old bones, that together we might even be invincible.

Until I realized I was in love with the irritating git. Love makes you vulnerable. Fear for him has made me flesh and blood again.

Who ever would have guessed that Doyle is made of Kryptonite?

-- THE END --

July 2008