Disclaimer: I do not own Chicago PD, Chicago Fire, or any song lyrics/quotes contained within. This fanfiction was written for entertainment purposes only, and as such, I am not making a profit (and have no intentions to go "50 Shades" mainstream on you guys).

'It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life.' – F. Scott Fitzgerald

March 2002

The music was loud, some pulsing beat of the latest pop song that seemed to go over well with the younger crowd. It was only 10:30, but between the rest of the prom and all of the after parties, the festivities were expected to last well into the early morning hours. Rachel walked across the front steps of the school for what felt like the millionth time; One could only stomach so many slow songs, looking into the eyes of someone who would much rather be just about anywhere but there. "Stupid fucking dance. Why in the hell did I let myself get talked into this?", she thought out loud, kicking a small stone with the toe of her heels.

"Come on, we have to get out of here before Lana figures out that I'm gone,"

She turned towards the sound of the voice, knowing who it was before her eyes made contact. Much like his father, Justin had a voice that you could easily pick out of a crowd. They had made a pact before they had even left the apartment that they were each other's 'Fail Safe' – In the event the night was going poorly, one of them would send the other a text and they would go home, no questions asked.

"Here, you're probably going to want this. It's like….ten degrees out and the El's stopped running an hour ago."

Sliding the coat (that fit him perfectly, but was two sizes too big on her) over her shoulders, the duo began the lengthy walk towards the safety of their home. Rachel felt a bit safer with Justin by her side, but it was still Chicago at night time – and she knew the crime statistics in that area. They remained silent for a bit, the awkward silence stretching over them like a tarp over the baseball diamond during a rainstorm.

"So, what happened? What had you sending out the Bat-Signal?"
"It turns out that my date was far more interested in figuring out how to get into Sheila Easton's skirt rather than figuring out how to get ME out of MINE."

The night had actually started out pretty fun, but as it progressed, his interest seemed to wain. After the second consecutive song in which she caught him gazing over her shoulder at Sheila, Rachel politely excused herself to the restroom – knowing that if she had stuck around, she would have laid him on his ass.

"Why? Why the hell do I keep going after douchebags?", she asked, not fully expecting an answer.
"Because you're a kind hearted soul, who, at the very core of it, just wants to be loved and accepted by her peers.….that, or you were just hoping to score before all the good little boys and girls went off to their respective hotel rooms for the annual 'swapping-of-STD's' meeting."

She caught herself laughing at the truth in his words. Rachel had never been big on going to dances, but Todd had looked so hopeful when he asked, so positive; it was hard to say no to someone like that.

"The poor kid just looked so excited when he asked, too. It would have been like kicking a puppy – I couldn't say no! If I had known then what I know now, though, I'd be at home in my sweats, watching reruns of Cops on Spike TV."

"I happen to think you look pretty cute in your sweats too."

The tone of his voice – no longer joking – had her glancing towards Justin, the moonlight casting an almost ethereal glow over the duo.

"Jus…"
"Sssh, just….sssh"

Before her brain had time to catch up with her body, their lips had met in a surprisingly gentle kiss. She wasn't sure if it was the few swigs of booze she had stolen from a flask under the bleachers, the sting of rejection she found from her date, or the moonlight around them. Whatever it was had her leaning in for another kiss – and then another – trying desperately to ignore the way their hands fit so perfectly together, and the way it felt like she was breaking that promise she made to herself all those years ago.

"Oh, God. Prom was a night I'd much rather forget, thank you very much."

Rachel and Justin sat on the hardwood floor, leaned back against the couch, as they sipped on glasses of wine. Jackson had gone to bed a few hours before, complete with kisses from his mother and his father, and they had been taking a stroll down memory lane ever since.

"Hey, it wasn't that bad of a night."
"I spent an hour and a half hiding in the girls' room, waiting for you to respond to my text message."
"…okay, it was pretty bad."

She picked the prom picture off of the coffee table, laughing at the sheer ridiculous of the night. The pink frilly gown that she had worn looked so ridiculous to her now, but the struggle she had gone through to afford it had made it worth it. Justin, as he had the vast majority of the time back then, looked super uncomfortable in the photograph, like he couldn't have wanted out of that situation any faster.

"I hate to rain on our little parade here – but I have to get home. Curfew check is in half an hour."

Nodding, Rachel rose from her sitting position, extending a hand to help Justin do the same. Shoes were slid back on, coats thrown back over shoulders, as she walked him to the taxi waiting at the curb.

"I appreciate tonight, Rach. You didn't have to let me see Jackson ever again, but you did – and I appreciate that more than I will probably ever be able to put into words."
"So, you fucked up. Big deal. You're out now; you can have a fresh start again. I just…..promise me that you'll keep your head on straight. I can't let you around Jackson if you're going to be in his life one second and out again the next. I won't do that to him."

Justin shook his head frantically and wrapped his arms around Rachel, as if he were afraid of the emotions to be found on her face. As they pulled apart, they found themselves face to face, much like that prom night twelve years before. It was a quick kiss, barely long enough to register on most charts – but she knew. Rachel knew that she was hooked again, was very much screwed.

"I just wanted to see if it was still there. It's nice to see that we still have that effect on each other, eh? Goodnight, Rachel."

Her fingers just traced gently over her lips, as Justin ducked into the cab and pulled away. Rachel's eyes caught on a silver SUV parked across the street. The window was down and it almost looked like someone was peeking out at her. Before she could get across the street, the man had rolled the window up and sped off in the same direction as the cab.

"Trouble just seems to follow you everywhere, doesn't it, Voight?", she muttered to herself. Between Justin, work, and raising a four year old, she figured one of them was going to wind up putting her in an early grave.

Yep. She was definitely screwed.