kin·dle
Spelled [kin-dl]
verb (used with object)
1. To start (a fire); cause (a flame, blaze, etc.) to begin burning.
2. To excite; stir up or set going; animate; rouse; inflame: He kindled their hopes of victory.
3. To light up, illuminate, or make bright: Happiness kindled her eyes.
Kindled Hearts
Prologue
The last time he'd been there, he was with Jess.
It had been St. Patrick's Day and she had insisted that they go grab an early dinner. His resistance surprised her, with him being Irish and all.
"You really don't want to go? I figured this would be your favorite holiday."
Her sarcasm was apparent and it made him laugh. She knew he hated any holiday that was followed with the delirious antics of those who had drank one too many. New Year's Eve, St. Patrick's Day, and Halloween were just a few among the many days of the year that he never looked forward to, along with Mondays. He hated Mondays.
He had been on call and with the chance of having to go in being very high he went ahead to the precinct that afternoon. His goal was to try to at least put a dent into the ever-growing amount of paperwork on his desk.
Jess' shift had just ended when she approached his desk, the small smirk already outlined on her face. He wanted to deny her offer, or at least come up with a different plan but he was no match for her.
"Come on Don, it's still early. The drunks and crazies aren't partying yet."
"You know I don't like this right?"
"But you like me."
Checkmate.
It wasn't a question. He didn't care. That was why he liked her. She always had a way of getting him to do what she wanted.
He looked at her with a smile.
"Let's go."
"Earth to Don."
The voice pulled him out of his reverie, the memory of Jess fading away.
He looked up, his gaze meeting another, the olive green eyes streaming with concern. The sounds of the restaurant came flooding back in. Voices ringing, chairs sliding, and the distinctive sound of metal scraping against porcelain all hung in the air. The noise prevented him from going back into the memory. He wished he could, though it was a damn shame.
"Are you hearing me Don?"
"Yeah, sorry. Just zoned out for a bit." He figured a reply along the lines of 'I was just thinking about my dead girlfriend,' wouldn't have been appropriate.
He was supposed to be on a date.
Natalie Dunn was an A.D.A with the Manhattan's District Attorney Office. She started a few months ago and was already making a good impression on everyone. A week ago, she had just finished one of the biggest cases of career. Kevin Maywood had been convicted of killing a student at the prep school where he taught math. However, there wasn't enough evidence to convict him. It all came down to the testimony of their key witness, another young student.
The story went big, people everywhere outraged and angry. Natalie was in charge ensuring that not only the witness would testify, but said testimony would be strong enough for a conviction.
Her task was deemed successful and Maywood was convicted. Earlier that day, he was sentenced to 60 years in prison. Flack was outside when the sentencing was over. He had seen Natalie's proud grin when she came out of the courtroom.
"I take it you got some good news." He approached her, his own smile forming.
"60 years. Doesn't get much better than that," she boasted proudly.
"Congrats. You're gonna become to the top A.D.A soon," he told her.
"Thanks," she replied letting out a breath.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, just happy it's over," she paused. "You want to go grab a drink, maybe dinner?"
The question was both surprising and expected, a clear oxymoron.
He had been asked more than once about the relationship he had with Natalie. Having been the lead detective on the case, the two had grown close. Danny teased. Lindsay could only smile proudly. Hawkes would give compliment to her personality. Even Jo would hint at the psychological connection the two supposedly had.
But there was something missing.
He liked her, he was sure of it. With pale skin and shoulder length brown hair, Natalie was indisputably attractive. She was smart, witty, and could definitely hold her own. She loved her job and did it well.
Just like Jess.
He cursed himself for again allowing his thoughts to drift.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
Natalie's voice again brought him back to reality.
He leaned back in his chair, nodding to the waiter as he refilled his water.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Tired I guess"
She nodded in understanding. "Story of my life."
Flack chuckled. "I guess we're on the same page."
"I guess so." She watched him carefully, her eyes locked on his. A small smirk appeared on her face and he couldn't help the smile forming on his own.
"Listen Don, I was thinking that maybe you and I could…."
She never finished her sentence.
CRACK CRACK CRACK
The familiar sound pierced through the air, leaving an echo in the atmosphere. The gunshot was followed by the crash of glass and the screams of all in the wake of the chaos.
"Don!"
He was already out of his seat.
Flack ducked passed the people hunched over with their hands covering their heads as he made his way towards the door.
"Get down!" he shouted, prepared for more gunshots.
He swung the door open and was met with more chaos outside, people screaming, cars honking. Looking around, his gun was in hand and ready to fire. His eyes darted up and down the street just into to see a red pickup truck speed off, making a right at the block ahead.
With his hand already moving towards his pocket, Flack pulled out his phone, calling in the shooting.
"This is Detective Flack, I got a drive by shooting and a runaway red pick-up truck heading west on 38th!" he barked, repeating the information again, his eyes drifting to a woman standing close to the door of the restaurant.
He noticed the specks of red sprayed all over her shirt.
"Are you okay?" he asked, moving to stand in front of her.
Her red hair was long, as were the bangs that hung over her eyes. Slowing she looked up, her gaze not meeting Flack's but instead the light hazel orbs focusing on the street behind him.
"Are you okay?" he asked again, slower this time. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
At the contact, her eyes met his, yet she remained silent.
"Flack!"
Natalie's voice reached his ears, yet he held the gaze of the woman a moment longer before turning his head.
When he did, he saw Natalie leaning over a woman lying on the ground, blood pooling around her shoulder.
He looked at Natalie's expression, panic resting in her features.
"She's dead."
Disclaimer: All the things you recognize don't belong to me.
A.N. – Here it is, my first story. Thoughts about it are more than welcome! I would really appreciate to hear from everyone! Thanks a lot!
~ Pecan Tweet
