A/N: Hello and welcome to my new tale! This is the first time I try my hand at a Public Enemies fic so please take it easy on me.

Okay, so this is AU because our Mr. Dillinger does not die. ;o)

It is John/OC but with a twist. This is the prologue and the story does not start with this.

If you take the time to read then please leave me some feedback. It'd be greatly appreciated. Because I have a few other stories I am working on at the moment this will be updated probably every second week or so. You can join me on Facebook for details on updates, info and covers.

Okay, without further ado I present you the prologue.

Disclaimer: I do not own Public Enemies.

Summer Heatwaves In Your Eyes

Prologue

"One day you fall for this boy. And he touches you with his fingers. And he burns holes in your skin with his mouth. And it hurts when you look at him. And it hurts when you don't. And it feels like someone's cut you open with a jagged piece of glass."
― Maureen Medved, The Tracey Fragments

The light fell inside the room from the windows with a vengeance, no longer concealing the secrets of the night. Dreams and reality were so far removed from one another. You can dream, all night long you can dream, but when you wake up your actions, the ones stemmed from your dreams, take form, they materialize and they turn to look at you in the eye. They finally take their revenge with the first ray of sunlight that falls upon your brow in the morning, the one that causes you to roll away from your life; the one that begins when the dreams are finally over.

Every action in life has a consequence, it does not pass unpunished and betrayal and lies always bring only tragedy; for everyone involved. They say if you see a gun at the beginning of a story you will always have to face it towards the end. And the gun that was pointed at the man who was standing in the centre of the room was surely indication enough.

The dark haired woman holding the gun was shaking, her small hand and fingers were tightly wrapped around the thing and even though her lips were set in determination the two other occupants of the room could see that it weighed it a ton on her arm.

Tear stains were shining on the woman's cheeks and her eyes were narrowed into two blue lines of jealousy and sheer fury. Fury because it had taken her too long to realize that things were not as they seemed. That sacrifice did not always ensure loyalty let alone love and desire. It had taken her too damn long to see what was right in front of her eyes. Her gaze left the man standing stock still in front of her and went to the woman who was pressed against the wall near the window. Her eyes were wide and kept shifting between her and the man.

Billie's eyes narrowed further and when the other woman's eyes stayed on the man for far too long she spoke for the first time since she had entered the apartment.

"Don't you look at him! Don't you dare look at him!" she exploded and the woman jumped, her wide blue eyes shifting to Billie, "I should have noticed it before. You were always around, staring with your puppy dog eyes, pretending you understand him, pretending to take his side-…"

"Doll, leave her alone." The man spoke up, his voice quiet but sharp.

"Why? Am I wrong? She is the danger!"

"Billie-…"

"Her father's working for the Federal Police! He's an agent. Did you know that, Johnny? Your supposed friend, or should I say lover, has more secrets than you think" Billie spat.

He cocked his head to the side, "Yeah, I knew that. I know everything. But she ain't the one who gave me up to the feds, is she now?" he drawled as he stepped closer and narrowed his brown eyes at her.

Billie's expression flickered from determination to insecurity for a second before she spoke up, "I had to. You weren't stopping. I told you that they would catch you and eventually kill you. It was only a warning. I knew you'd get away." She defended herself.

"I see." he murmured as he approached her even more, "So, Mira isn't your problem, is she?"

"You know what's my problem. You promised to take care of me." She whispered, her voice cracking, "You promised that we'd be together, that'd we grow old together."

"We do not-…" the woman standing behind John started.

"Miranda." He cut her off, "You promised you'd trust me." He looked back at his girlfriend.

"Yes! And look where that trust took me!" Billie shook her head and abruptly turned, pointing the gun at Miranda who didn't even blink.

"But it's all over. For both of you." Billie murmured as she cocked the gun higher and pressed her finger against the trigger, "It ends here." She whispered and took a deep breath.

But then there was a sudden movement and the gun was lowered by John's hand. Taken by surprise, Billie stumbled back but she slapped his hand away from her arm and pushed him several feet away. He fell against the couch and before she had the chance to point the gun to Miranda again, the other woman had stepped in front of John.

"Please, you have to understand that this…" Miranda took a deep breath and swallowed hard, "Me and him…we mean nothing. Please, listen to him." She pleaded and Billie noticed how her voice quivered, betraying her words.

"I am done listening." She whispered and then she fired the gun.

Strong arms grasped Miranda's waist and pulled her out of the way. John ducked, bringing Miranda with him but then she was pushing out of his arms. She got to her feet and advanced on Billie whose eyes widened, and before she could fire the gun again, Mira had her hand on the gun. With a tug and a swift move of her hand she had it out of Billie's trembling one.

"Give it back!" The woman cried, her eyes wild and furious as Miranda pushed her away easily, being taller and heavier.

"No." Miranda shook her head and lifted the gun, pointing it at Billie.

"Mira, give it here." John spoke from behind her, "Now." He barked impatiently but the woman shook her head.

"No, this is not you. You're going to turn away, walk out and head to the cafeteria by the corner. Once there, you two are going to talk and I'm going to disappear. Okay? There is no need for this. There's enough violence in our lives already. Please." She pleaded and Billie smiled.

"You always did have a way with words. I can see why he likes you. You're pretty, you're younger, sophisticated, educated." She grimaced, "Have you taught him new tricks? I bet you have." She took a step closer, pressing her chest right against the tip of the gun, "But you're not going to sweet talk me. Never again. And I know you're not going to disappear. He won't let you."

Her hand flew to Miranda's neck and squeezed while her other one threaded through her long hair.

Miranda cried out from the shock and tried to push her away with her free hand but it was of no use.

"Evelyn!" John screamed in pure rage as he stepped forward.

Miranda gasped for breath and pushed her hand with the gun against the other woman's chest more tightly in an attempt to free herself but her finger slipped, pressed onto the trigger with force and then everything stilled. The only sound she could hear was the wild beating of her heart and her labored breathing. Nothing more.

The shot echoed in the walls of the apartment and Miranda looked at her own hands with disbelief. The small pocket gun mocked her as she gazed at it and she immediately dropped it to the ground.

The female hands holding her hair and neck in a tight grip loosened their hold and the blue eyes of Billie Frechette stared at her in shock before the life was slowly burned out from their depths. She fell on the carpeted floor with a dull thud and Miranda jumped when the dead woman's foot collided with her ankle. She stumbled backwards and her back collided with the man that was staring with wide eyes at his unmoving girlfriend.

His hands shot up and grasped her shoulders in a tight grip and she whimpered as they slowly slipped up towards her neck.

"What have you done, Mira?" he breathed and for a moment his hands squeezed her neck so tightly that she thought he was going to kill her. His fingers were white at the knuckles but she did not do anything to stop him as he whirled her around and slammed her up against the wall.

Her breath was knocked out of her and she clutched at the wrist that was holding her neck in a death grip. If he wanted to he could snap her neck in two.

"I am so sorry." She choked out as her eyes went to the still body by their feet, "I am so sorry. I didn't mean to, John." She cried as tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, "Please." A hiccup got caught in her throat and the man sneered as a tear slipped from his eye and fell down his right scarred cheek.

His eyes scanned her face and the more he stared at her the more his hold on her pale neck tightened. She whimpered again and closed her eyes, knowing that he would do it. He would kill her. He, who had always looked at her with such warmth he would surely end her life after this. Because she was not her; she was not Billie. He did not love her and he never would. But at least she'd die knowing that she'd saved him. Because even if she had not pulled that trigger, Billie would have; on both of them. Because she loved him and she would not share him. With anyone. Ever. Because she had sacrificed so much for him. She'd gone to prison for him. What had she done? What had Miranda Crowley done? Nothing; nothing but take the life of the woman he adored.

But wait a minute. He wasn't doing anything. And was she mistaken or his hold on her neck had started to loosen up?

Stifling another sob, she opened her eyes and saw him looking at her…oddly. The fury was still there. The anguish, the loss, the desperation was there but there was something else inside his dark eyes as well; something foreign. Something she had only seen once before in his gaze. And she remembered when. It was the night she had fallen apart in his arms. That one night when he had betrayed his heart for her. She almost winced. That's what she was; his guilty pleasure. A dirty secret that he had revealed himself not with words but with actions. Jealousy was a fatal mistake to commit. And they had both committed it and now they were paying for it.

"Damn you." His voice broke her from her haze and she blinked, her vision blurry from her tears, "Damn you to hell." He hissed before he slammed her head roughly against the wall and then smashed his lips hard against hers.

Miranda tensed up, every nerve in her body convulsed as he kissed her and when he broke the kiss and pulled her head forward, tucking her face in the crook of his neck, she froze.

What was he doing? What in God's name-…

"It's alright." He breathed and she blinked rapidly, "No one is ever going to know." He murmured and he nodded as if forcing himself to believe it, "It was self defense. Ain't no one ever going to know." He told her as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her away from the wall, "'Cause you and I are going to make this place disappear, doll. Along with everything in it." His voice carried such a fierce determination that she was barely able to detect the weakness in his tone.

His words and everything they might do were not going to change it though. She, Miranda Crowley, was a murderer, a killer. A woman who killed Billie Frechette just to save the man she loved from her wrath. She was going to hell either way. And the warmth and fondness in his eyes would no longer matter there.

End of the prologue.

Author's note: So? What did you think? Should I tell their whole tale? I promise all will be explained as we go on. So, if you liked it and want more please review. The first chapter will be up in a week or so but I need your feedback, because it feeds the muse! ;o)

Until next time, loves!

Xxx Lina :o)