Notes: AU in that the final episode, 1x08: "God Only Knows," never happened. Written for storrms as part of Yuletide Madness 2009. Title from Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic."


He goes from mistrusting her to defending her to his mom in, like, a week.

He doesn't really know how that happened.

But suddenly she's part of the crew, getting wasted on ambrosia and taking part in their late-night bad movie marathons.

(He'll never tell her how adorable she is when she's drunk, but he often plies her with alcohol for that very reason.)


She asks him one night, over tequila shots, what it's like to be a god.

He chuckles. "We live longer. That's all you need to know."

"That's a lame answer," she huffs.

"Well, what's it like being a mortal?" he mimics.

"Let's see." She ticks off the differences on her fingers. "It's pretty much the same, I guess, only with no divine powers, much less life experience, and the ever-present pall of death hanging over our heads."

"Jeez. How do you mortals live like that?" he wonders half-seriously.

She shrugs. "Some can't. But the alternative is not to live at all, so."

He studies her in profile, feels the warmth of her against his side, and thinks that her not living at all would be a very sad thing.


For a while, living with her feels like a neverending summer. They dance and play and snipe at one another and drink together and make people fall in love, and it feels like time stops passing.

Then her birthday comes, and Grace of course remembers and throws Kate a huge birthday bash, and honestly? It's like a slap in the face.

He's barely even aware of his exact birth year, let alone the day, and yet turning one year older is a big deal for her. He stopped being shocked at how young mortals are a long, long time ago, but he forgets just how precious time is for them. She marks the passing of a single year and all he can think is, It's too soon, too fast.

It's one less year he'll get to spend with her, and fuck. This is why he doesn't get attached to mortals.

Time goes by so quickly for him, compared to her.

It's not fair. A year is nothing.

So he wastes no time in grabbing her and kissing her right there in the kitchen, in front of everyone.

When they break apart, he smirks and says, "Make a wish."

Eyes sparkling, she replies, "I already did."

Everyone's staring and her candles are melting into her cake and none of this should be romantic, but.

It is.


At first Danny is afraid that things will change between them.

Like, he doesn't think she'll go all psycho-girlfriend on him, but she might start wanting flowers and candy or candlelit dinners or some shit.

He doesn't know, okay? This monogamy thing is new to him.

But, turns out the only real difference is that he can kiss her now whenever he wants. So he does.


She takes over his bed.

He walks in one night to find her burrowed under the covers, half-asleep.

"It's more comfortable than mine," she yawns by way of explanation, and it's obvious she isn't going to budge.

So he tries this whole sharing-a-bed-without-sex-first thing, and. Okay. It's a little weird.

But he gets a lot more morning sex out of the deal, so it all works out.

(After a while he forgets how to sleep without her.)


Kate always makes him use protection.

"What's the point?" he whines. "There hasn't been a god/mortal baby born in centuries."

"Statistics or it didn't happen," she replies firmly, "and I'm not interested in carrying your immortal spawn at the moment."

He scoffs, but he mentally notes the qualifier: at the moment.

"Anyway," she continues, unrelenting, "I have no idea where that dick has been. You could be carrying 2000 years' worth of STDs."

He boggles at her. "Kate, I'm a god."

It's a losing battle.

(The sex is still pretty mind-blowing. And soon he gets pretty good at making her forget little details like condoms. And beds. And coherent sentences.)


(She has this obsession with giving him a hickey.

Clearly it's his gentlemanly duty to reciprocate.)


He tries really, really hard not to think about the fact that she's made out with his dad. Twice, actually. One of which was his own fault, and shit, now he's thinking about it.

Shut it down, he thinks. Shut it down.


When Ari finds out, he's predictably furious.

"A mortal female? Surely you must be joking, son. Valentines don't do commitment, least of all to worthless trinkets like her."

"Her name is Kate, and she's not worthless. Not to me."

Ari rolls his eyes. "Please. You've become as pathetic as your mother. I should have taken care of that stupid girl a long time ago."

Danny stills, the blood suddenly cold in his veins.


"That girl is a bad influence on you. I threatened to do away with her once and I've regretted not following through ever since."

Danny calmly strides forward and proceeds to punch his father square in the face, then leans close to Ari's ear.

"If you ever so much as breathe a word against Kate again, I will air all our dirty laundry to the world. You, Mom, Ray, all of it. I won't care who I hurt. I'm serious."

He stalks out of Ari's office and doesn't hear a word from his father for ten years.


He still doesn't do all that mushy, tell-me-about-your-feelings crap. But he finds himself letting things slip when they're alone, cozied-up on the sofa or entwined in his (their) bed. Nothing earth-shattering, just memories from his childhood. Things he's always wondered about. Fears.

Most of the time, she doesn't respond with words at all.


Sometimes he asks her to run away with him and never come back.

She always laughs. "'Never?' You of all people know how long that is."

He does know. He'll keep asking anyway.