A/N: This is my original account that I had given to my friend, but she decided to not do FanFiction. O: Ikr. Anyways, this is my new posting of 'Chain Reaction.' It should be better than it was, but anyways. I want to write Isabella in sort of a new light, so she is not from Wilmington. She has been born and raised in Brooklyn. Takes place post "She's Not There." It's a short chapter tonight, but there should be one tomorrow!

I hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I own no one but Isabella Pacino. Anyone else goes to their rightful owners

Summary: He didn't know what he wanted until she stumbled into his life. She never wanted anything until she met him.

It's been the longest winter without you
I didn't know where to turn to
See, somehow I can't forget you
After all that we have been through
Going, coming, thought I heard a knock
Who's there? No one
Thinking that I deserve it
Now I've realized that I really didn't know
If you didn't notice, you mean everything
Quickly, I'm learning to love again
All that I know is...I'll be okay

Leona Lewis — Better In Time

"Why is it that you always seem to have your thinkin' face on?" Carmen Sanchez asked, blowing her bangs out of her face. Isabella turned and faced her cousin.

"Because I have a lot to think about," she replied and took a deep drag of her cigarette. She really hated to smoke, but it relaxed her. It was only a habit when she was frustrated and had a lot on her mind. Like currently. Bumping into her ex-boyfriend with her best friend at a bar had set off her nerves.

"Such as?" Carmen prompted. Isabella turned to face her, raising her eyebrows.

"None of your damn business," she replied, flicking her cigarette to release the ash before tossing the butt onto the ground. She smashed it out with the tip of her Converse sneaker and took a deep breath.

"Izzy Rae, you're smoking again. Someone's crawled up your ass," Carmen said, fiddling with the ends of her jet-black hair. She was a member of Hombre Lama or "Shadow's Blade." It was a Mafia crime family of the Pacinos. They ran Brooklyn with an iron fist, and were moving in on the other boroughs. By birthright, Isabella was part of Hombre Lama, but she had jumped out at the age of eighteen after a cop (her father) had made a deal with her: the police academy or prison. It was an easy choice. Isabella Pacino was now a Crime Scene Investigator.

Things had gone from good to bad after she had gotten involved with her brother's ex-partner, Don Flack. A twinge of sadness echoed in her heart as she thought of the snarky blue-eyed detective. They had had an on and off relationship for about three years and two months ago would strike the fourth time they had broken up.

Isabella's blue-flame eyes settled on her relative, looking up at her from the fringe of her dark eyelashes as she twisted her mouth in thought.

"You're gonna kick this thing's ass, Izzy," Carmen assured her. Isabella shrugged and shoved her hands into the pockets of her black motorcycle jacket. October always rattled her in Brooklyn, the same place she had been born and raised.

"I know, Carm," she replied with a sigh. Glancing at the delicate silver watch attached to her wrist, she knew she had a few minutes. Which gave her more displeasure than she could say.

"Look, you gonna go support Elias tonight? We're having a jam and you know we're gonna want you there," Carmen said. Isabella nodded vigorously. Her family was very musical-oriented; her cousins all had a 'jam' where they played different instruments and tried to play songs. She sang with them sometimes for fun, but that was it. They were currently trying to get some songs together to play in a subway, but things seemed to be going nowhere.

"Absolutely. If I can get off on time, you know I'll be there," she swore.

Isabella laid down on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She didn't know how long she had been laying there, but she couldn't stop. Her earbuds were in her ears, 'My Heart Will Go On' by Celine Dion playing softly in her ears. The great head of her rescue dog, Wrangler rested on her flat stomach and she gently stroked his long black and tan fur. She had found him on one of her raids, chained to a doghouse. He had been emaciated severely and it had taken plenty of love, patience, and veterinary care to return him to his former robust glory. It had been an uphill struggle with her landlords to let her keep him. Instead of an apartment, Isabella rented a small one-bedroom house in Brooklyn. She didn't have a lot of needs and they were met.

"You know you're my good boy, Wrangler," she cooed to him. His tail thumped on the bed at the praise and he stuck his slobbery, velvety tongue out of her mouth to lick her arm. Her fingers wound themselves in his fur as she rubbed his side. He curled closer to her, moving his head from her stomach to lay next to her. Wrangler rolled onto his back, exposing his belly to her. Isabella chuckled and ran her hand across the dog's stomach, paying special attention to the bottom of his ribs.

"C'mon," she urged him, sitting up. Right now, she needed to just relax. Easier said than done, but it was going to happen. It was time to get ready to go to her uncle's house where the jam was going down. Right now, she needed the people she cared about most. The case she had worked had scared her and she wanted the fire-like warmth that came with being around her rowdy, dysfunctional family.

"Don, you're thinking again," Jess said, her head on his chest. Her chin was propped up so she could meet his blue eyes with her browns.

"Because I tend to do that," Don replied, his hands behind his head. Why things couldn't progress with Jess, he didn't know. Jessica Angell was a stunning woman and she knew how to show a guy a good time. Every time she touched him, his insides screamed 'Wrong! What the hell are you doing?'

His head was with Jess. His heart resided in Brooklyn alongside the blue-eyed she-devil that haunted his thoughts and dreams. Why couldn't things turn permanently turn off with Isabella Pacino? She was completely wrong for him in every way. Isabella was an impulsive, short-tempered, smart-alecky, cocky know-it-all. Jess was challenging, but she seemed to eventually let him have his way. Isabella fought him every step of the way, but she had never once said 'I told you so.'

Things would get better in time, he was sure of it.

"Don, I'm a woman. I know when I look into your eyes and you see someone else," Jess spoke up quietly, sitting up.

"I'm getting better with it," he protested. Her doe-brown eyes were gentle.

"Look, I know I'm no Isabella. I can't drop a street vendor on a moment's notice, I don't know the difference between a fuel pump and a carburetor, I don't know how to change a flat tire, and I don't know all of the science stuff she does," she said. He ran his thumb over her face and she looked away.

"There is no me and Isabella," he told her. Her eyes turned thoughtful as she drummed her fingers on her leg.

"But there was," she pointed out. "And you two have been through a hell of a lot together. There may be a light-switch relationship here and I can deal with that."