Oh my goodness, guys. It's been almost two years since I last updated! I am so so sorry! I can't believe I let this story go, but here's me trying to make it up to you all. I've got some time on my hands and I've decided to pick this story back up. I'd like to think my writing has improved over the years, and I think I've fleshed the characters out a bit more this go around.
Now it may not be canon with everything that's happened in the show so far. Honestly, I've only watched up to half of season 3 so I'm kind of winging this. I really don't think this follows any kind of story line that's happened on the show anyway, but just in case someone is wondering.
I'd like to thank each and every one of you for your support and love on this.
As always, let me know what you think and happy reading!
I.
The first time Charlotte Morgan realized that she wanted to become a teacher she was seven years old. While all the other students around her focused on their classwork Charlotte watched the teacher move around the room with an inconceivable grace, her eyes peering over the entire classroom as if it were the size of an ant farm.
Unlike the rest of the children who ran home to play with their siblings or pets, Charlotte hurried home and began to teach her stuffed animals about everything she'd learned that day, and when her baby brother was born she swore to be the best teacher to him that he could wish for. Her parents were proud of her intelligence, and weren't surprised when she began calling herself Miss Charlotte.
Her desire to teach skyrocketed when, in her freshman year of high school, she was one of the first people recruited for the Tutors for Future Leaders, a horribly cheesy name for a great organization. During her time in Great Oaks High she was one of the most revered tutors in the school, if someone needed help in any subject, specifically Literature, Charlotte was the first person they would seek out.
At the age of twenty one Charlotte had achieved her dreams and was given her first teaching job. She was beyond thrilled, and arrived early to work every day for seven years, helping develop the thoughts and skills of the children in her classroom, but on her twenty-seventh birthday her baby brother was shipped to a foreign country to fight in the war.
Her days began to get a little more hectic from the lack of sleep and worrying, and although her passion for teaching was still rooted deep within her it felt like she wasn't living up to her life's potential.
Charlotte raced from one room to the next, frantically throwing clothes and the random objects around the room out of her way. She was late, so very late, and for the third time this week, and she just knew that Principal Lee was not going to be pleased. She could already see the bulging vein in his balding head throbbing at her tardiness.
She had seen her keys just before she showered, and it seemed they had grown legs and jingled away.
She closed her eyes and sighed, trying to remember exactly where it was she'd seen the silver devils, and suddenly, just like in the movies, it came to her so fast it was as if she'd ran headfirst into a brick wall.
Charlotte dashed over to the end table that was covered with ungraded homework from the week before, pushed the papers into the floor with a silent apology to her students, and scrambled out the door with her keys in hand. She jammed the keys into the ignition, after buckling up of course, and the engine sputtered not once, but two times, before roaring to life. Charlotte winced at how sickly her car sounded, and knew it was time for an oil change, but she couldn't be bothered.
With a pat on the dashboard for good luck Charlotte whipped out of the driveway and onto the street and prayed that the traffic in Chicago was better than usual.
Although her mornings were frenzied as of late, she couldn't deny the springtime beauty. That particular day the sun had warmed the air above the usual temperatures, and the wind was lightly perfumed with the scent of newly bloomed flowers. The impact of it all seemed to have calmed the city - people were walking their dogs, others on their cell phones as they walked their morning commute, some even just sitting on their porches to enjoy the first taste of warmth.
The scenery around her was the beauty of her city at it's finest.
Charlotte glanced to her left to the firehouse that loomed on the street she was on. It was an ugly brick building, but in it's defense so were most of the buildings that littered some of the shadier parts of town.
As she was staring off into the distance, the steering wheel began to shake beneath her palms, bringing her back to reality. Charlotte fought to keep her car confined to her side of the road. As soon as she could regain traction she pulled to the side of the road and slammed her car into park.
"Please don't be something bad," she begged as she climbed out of her car. With her fingers mentally crossed she began to inspect her car. She walked around the back of her car, glad to see that everything was in tact. The passengers side back tire was fine, but the front tire was completely deflated. "Seriously..."
"Havin' trouble?" A man's voice carried across the street from her. She glanced up from the road and saw a man walking toward her with a cigar between his lips, smoke billowing like a cloud behind him. He stopped before her and winked cockily, stubbing the end of the cigar on the sidewalk. "Looks like you got a flat."
Charlotte resisted the urge to roll her eyes and swallowed her smart remark. "Yes, it does appear that I do."
"You got a spare by any chance?" He bent lower to get a look, his hands on his knees for support.
"Not that I know of," Charlotte admitted quietly. "Listen, is there any I can drive this to work within the next two hours?"
He sucked a sharp breath in, the smirk on his lips lingered. "Your wheel is damn near done for," he stated. "But I can find you a tire around here somewhere. I can probably have it fixed up by the end of the day."
"That would be great. I can be here to get it around 3:30 this evening. If that's alright?"
The man nodded wordlessly, still inspecting her car for any damage she may have missed.
"Thank you, you really have no idea how much this means-," she drew out the end of her sentence, "I'm sorry, your name is?"
"Lieutenant Severide," he offered, "but I let all the pretty ladies I meet call me Kelly."
Oh, I bet you do.
Charlotte cleared her throat. "Okay, Lieutenant, do you mind calling a tow truck for me? The cab is on it's way, I really can't afford to be late again."
"Well, we can get you moved out of the street, I'll have your car just over there," he assured, pointed to an empty space behind an expensive looking black car. "Listen, we haven't gotten a call in two hours. I can take you to work if you'll let me?"
Charlotte immediately, but politely, declined. Yes, he's a firefighter and all, hero of the city, but she knew better, especially in Chicago, than to jump into a vehicle with someone she didn't know. "I'll take the cab, but thank you, really."
Kelly put his hand up in surrender. "I understand, but can I at least get your name?"
"Charlotte."
He gave a curt nod and flashed a smile. "You got a last name, Charlotte?"
Charlotte felt her face heat up and her heart thumped loudly. "Of course I do."
Kelly laughed, "And it is?"
Some sort of power surged through Charlotte's veins, she'd never felt so womanly in her life, and her eyelashes must had bat more in the last thirty seconds than she was used to.
Oh God, am I flirting right now?
The cab she had called pulled beside them and Kelly dug into his pocket and reached out to give it to the cabbie for her ride.
Charlotte blocked his hand with hers and smiled. "I'll come back for my car this evening, and again, you really have my thanks." She moved to get inside the cab, but halted just before and looked back over her shoulder. Kelly had already began walking back toward the firehouse, his hands in his pockets.
"Hey!" Charlotte called. Kelly turned toward her with a curious look. "If you really want my last name, you'll find it."