Disclaimer: Ain't mine, ain't makin' money.

Dedication: To BJ Carlson. She was the first person to look beyond the normal knee-jerk reaction to Stacey and actually give her a voice. I hope this little thing does the POTENTIAL of Stacey half as much justice as BJ's fantastic Pie Plates. This one's for you, hon. And again, to Alicia McKenzie who humbles me at every turn. Sweetie, your joy, enthusiasm, and creativity leave me in awe. Thank you *so* much for sharing it with us. This corner of the net would be a lot less bright if you weren't around.

Notes: Where did this come from? To be honest, I'm not really sure. This is something a bit different for me. "NO IT'S NOT!" you scream in agony at the prospect of YET another A.j. POVfic. Actually, it really is. :) See it's different because Domino does not appear, nor is she mentioned, once. S'right folks. I actually wrote a vingette where my favorite Marvel character is not even vaguely alluded to. In fact, the main voice is a character I'm not even slightly enamored with. Ah, well. Sometimes, those are the ones you gotta watch out for.

Mostly, Stacey just figured she got a raw deal and decided that it was time someone heard her side of the story. Does this mean Aliya's gonna start talking to me? Lord I hope not. Dom's already threatening to set my books on fire and roast marshmallows over the cooling ashes.

This is not about love. It never was.

This is about need. The straight forward, clean NEED to have someone there. Someone to remind you that you can feel good. Alive.

Living with and caring for Joey doesn't really give me much time to date. Plus, most of the guys I meet, working and living where I do, are pigs on basic principle. That's why Nate was so noticable. He may be a complete jerk, but at least he's refined about it. And he does a good job of looking contrite if he notices he's being a jerk.

But I can't love him. That road would only lead to disaster. I know that now.

Don't get me wrong. The physical side of things is fine. In fact, the sex is fantastic. Wonderful. Amazing. Lights flash, the heavens get closer, and my brain has FIRMLY pushed chocolate to a VERY distant second on the 'things that make Stacey smile' list. DAMN does that man know what to do with his tongue. But it's not, nor will it ever be, about love.

Thing is, with us, sex isn't about intimacy. It's about skin-on-skin, bone-rattling pleasure. It's a wall, really. Nate puts it up between us, but it's one I can live with. One I've come to understand and even desire. Because that wall isn't just there to keep me out. It's there to protect me too. And if there is one thing I can honestly say about my life, it's that I haven't been protected enough.

So it's nice, I guess, to have this. I'd hate this feeling... if we were permanent. But we're not, so it's okay.

This isn't coming out right. It's hard to explain though.

See, sex with us isn't about how close we can get to each other. It's almost casual. We're here to give comfort. I'm his friend, and that's it. It did hurt, I won't lie about that. I wanted the other stuff; flowers and hearts and all that starry-eyed prattle thirteen year-olds dream about. But I've been taught a very vauluable lesson during the course of my life: take what you can get and be thankful for it.

Seems cold-hearted, right? Maybe even overly pragmatic? That's something else I've learned. Someone can never be practical enough. There's a time for illusions and silly dreams, and there's a time for reality. Sometimes, reality surprises you with something better.

I remembered that after I made my big relationship ephiphany.

Nate's not my Prince Charming, and he never was meant to be.

This thing between us isn't meant to last, but, again, that's okay. Why? Because this really *isn't* about love. I keep saying that. And I'm not protesting too much. I just keep coming back to this. When I realized it *wasn't* about love, all those fluffy dreams dissapeared... and it didn't hurt as much anymore. In fact, EVERYTHING got better. He did the tongue thing for the first time that very night.

And just how did I trip upon this little epiphany? Easy. Nate let me spend the night.

Joey was at a lock-in at the Boys' and Girls' club, and it was my first real night off from the diner since Nate and I started this whole... thing. I hesitate to call it a relationship because it's really just us screwing like bunnies whenever we get the opportunity. Anyway, the opportunity was there and I was ready for a good long night of uninterupted coitus. And snuggling. I must say I was really looking foward to the snuggling.

But that was not to be. Sometime after go number two, we dozed off. It seemed pretty inocuous. Sex equates to physical activity which equates to drowsiness. I nodded off calmly wrapped in the arms of someone I believed I could let into my heart. I could have fallen in love with him. It would have been so easy. But I haven't.

An indeterminate amount of time later, I woke up. Well, it was more 'got squeezed awake by the jaws of life' than 'gently woken in the arms of a lover'. Nate was dreaming. I could tell because I KNOW he'd never make those sounds aloud if he were concious enough to stop it. It really scared me, waking up like that. Whatever made a man like Nate whimper and clutch me so tightly has to have been horrendous. He's not a weak man. He just isn't. You can tell it just by spending five minutes in a room with him. Luckily for me and my lungs, he let go and rolled over pretty quickly.

He didn't wake up though. And he didn't stop making those sounds.

I spent the next twenty minutes staring at the back of a man who couldn't stop crying. Or shaking. I should have done something, but what COULD I do? Wake him up? Try and reassure him? How?

And right there, I realized that I didn't want to. I didn't want him to open those big eyes and pull me into his world, because something told me that if that happened, there'd be no going back. Not for me, and not for Joey.

I owe it to that little brother of mine to keep him safe. His life is and will be hard enough without Nate's stuff horning in. He's a special little boy that deserves better than what he has, or what this would bring him. NATE deserves better than that, but it's too late for him. And lying there, staring at Nate's back, I knew it wasn't too late for me and Joey.

So, instead of touching him, or even reaching out, I waited until the whimpering stopped before I rested my forehead on his back. Ten tear-filled - mine - minutes later, he woke up. All at once, he just wasn't asleep anymore. I could feel the way his body relaxed as he remembered where he was. I didn't move from my spot, head resting against that large, beautiful back. I think in that moment he could sense my decision. I don't know if he pulled it out of my head or if he had a blinding realization of his own, but when he turned over, everything was... okay.

He just looked at me, and I knew that this thing we had was enough. This was all it was and all it was ever going to be. I'd never felt lighter in my life. So, I smiled at him and he didn't get a chance to go back to sleep the rest of the night.

I never stayed over again. A line was drawn there, by both of us. And like I said, things got better. We were... easier with each other. It's like he knows why I'm with him, and is just as comfortable with the situation as I am.

It's nice.

But I know there will come a day when his life will become too much. When this thing that has him so hurt and scared will become too important and too strong for me to compete with. I'm a realistic girl. I've had to be. I am definitely not the love of his life, and I know he's not mine. We're two adults with needs who happen to be in a place where those needs are important.

Nate is a wonderful man. I care about him, I really do, and I know he cares about me. I just know that this thing won't last. I'm not strong enough to survive in his world. Frankly, I think the main reason he's with me right now is because of that very reason. He needs - there's that word again - to know that there are people and things outside of his war. That's really the best term for it.

And wars don't end. They just keep building casualties, and I'm strong enough to make sure I'm not one of them. I am going to be, in the long run, nothing more than a warm memory. I can live with that though. It's enough because, in the end, that's all he's can be for me.