Ah, here we go, all caught up now! Hope you enjoyed that last chapter, because now it's back to our main duo! Also, beware, Natsu also has a potty mouth fufufu...

chapter 14: ash

definition:

The powdery residue that remains after burning.

Nearly a week after the first fire was the day they'd determined to hit the strip mall. Setting fires within a week of each other, their memorable color an unmistakable flare in the criminal world, would undoubtedly draw the attention of not only Jackal, but everything else that lurked in the night. This would be the final display to "prove" that the Salamander was back.

After this, Natsu knew, Jackal would show his ugly mug one way or another.

All he had to do was hold out tonight, and he'd be in the clear; he wouldn't have to set fires for the cops again, even if they begged him to. Even if Lucy begged him to–he wasn't sure he could hold on to his sanity if he did this again.

The only reason he'd been able to do so this long was because Lucy was with him. Her voice, her scent, her touch had soothed him and lulled his demons to sleep.

If she wasn't with him, Natsu was more than sure he would have succumbed by now.

That was why his dreams had haunted him the past week–flashes of smoldering flames, of ash and destruction, of the power. He'd startled awake many a time, skin slick with sweat and his blood cold and his stomach turning over. More than once, he'd thought about calling Lucy just to hear her voice; it would be enough to settle him, he knew.

But…calling her every other hour in the middle of the night was hardly considerate. He didn't want to disturb the detective.

Natsu scuffed his boot in the litter of ash around him, taking in the faded scent of burning wood and metal. He pulled out his prehistoric cell phone and sent Lucy a quick text with his location. "The old precinct"–he didn't elaborate as to what this meant, as he knew she would figure it out on her own.

Sure enough, the near silent purr of her engine sounded from a distance not fifteen minutes later.

He was busy meandering through the pile of debris that had once been a building, drawing patterns in the ash with the toe of his boot when she found him. She'd run all the way over from her car just a block away, and she was panting as he stood there with his back to her.

Natsu sucked in a breath.

The fire had long since gone cold, but he could still feel the heat of it in his blood. Could still smell the smoldering rubble.

"Arsonists," Natsu said over his shoulder in a tight voice, "always return to the scene of their burnings. Seeing what they've done…it helps them think."

Returning to the crime scene was like a refresher. It reminded firebugs of what they were capable of, the control it gave them; it helped prompt other ideas for the future. Natsu wasn't an exception to this rule. He'd gone back to burn sites numerous times when he'd been a teenager, and the pull had been so strong to do so this time that he hadn't been able to resist.

It was practically instinct.

Having been silent for so long, Lucy finally murmured, "Natsu, are you okay?"

He scoffed, kicked his boot into the ash and nudged a charred beam out of the way. No, he was not okay in any sense of the word–he never had been, not since Igneel had died.

Instead of answering her question, he told her, "Jackal might go back to the Black Star building since it's still fresh."

She undoubtedly noticed that he avoided the question, and her silent pause was one of debate. He could tell, even without looking at her, that she was battling herself on whether or not she should pursue her question.

Eventually, she sighed. "I'll have someone watch the building," Lucy whispered–and he imagined she was keeping her voice down just in case the walls had ears.

Natsu bobbed his head in a nod and burrowed his hands into the pockets of his cargos.

She knew that they weren't just talking about Jackal.

His detective was smart–if she caught him back at one of the sights, she'd cut him loose.

"Okay," he breathed. "Let's get this done, Lucy."

He finally spun on his booted heel, turning around to peg an unsettled Lucy with a reassuring smile. As long as she was with him, he thought as he slung his cotton-covered arm around her shoulders and steered her towards her parked car, he had nothing to fear.

Not even the nausea of car sickness could overwhelm him this time, as Lucy drove using one hand and kept the other on his forearm.

Detective Lucy Heartfilia kept him grounded.

He wasn't entirely sure why, but he knew that she did. And he was shameless enough to take advantage of it.

When they arrived at the old stripmall and began sneaking around, she kept her hand locked with his, their fingers tangling. She kept him steady and kept the little voices at bay when the shaking and the sweating began and he felt like he might lose himself. This time, she helped him strip the wires–even though her fingers were untrained and clumsy–and she used the accelerant too.

And when he pulled out his lighter, his chest tightening, she smoothed her fingers over his. Together, they flicked the spark wheel and set the stripmall ablaze in a sea of fiery red.

But, even with her support, it was too much for him to look at, or hear, or smell. Lucy hurriedly ushered him to her Mercedes and sped away from the scene, though the nausea did rear its ugly head again.

The car ride was surprisingly short–at least, it felt much shorter.

He was stumbling out into the night air and gulping it down before he knew it. Lucy waited for him, like always, to make his way to the driver's side of the car, where he stared down at her.

"…What is it?" she asked, a line forming in her brow.

Those beautiful brown eyes of hers sparkled when he released a worn-out chuckle. "Nothin', Lucy. I'm just a lucky bastard, that's all…" With that, he swept down and captured her soft lips in a sweet kiss.

She melted into him, her eyes fluttering shut as a sigh escaped her nose.

It was supposed to be chaste and sweet, but underneath lay a spark of heat. It was passion, he could feel it in the way her body went lax and her hands clung to his biceps. And it was that passion that made Natsu pull away.

"Night, Luce," he rasped after licking his lips.

Strawberries and cream.

God, it was working its way up to being his favorite flavor.

Taking in the flushed appearance of the detective's face, her parted lips and wide eyes, Natsu assumed that to be his cue to leave. He jogged back around the front of the car and up the small cluster of steps to his brownstone apartment, kicking the door shut behind him.

Lucy sped away mere moments later, her headlights casting shadows in his otherwise dark house.

When she was gone, the inky blackness swallowed him whole as he leaned against the door. It started to cling to his skin with just the faintest wisps of smoke and ash, leaving him feeling grimy, like a layer of dust had settled over his whole body.

He needed a shower. To wash the filth from his skin.

Shuddering, Natsu heaved himself off the door and headed directly to the bathroom. He tugged his black sweater over his head in the process, flinging it in some corner, and toed off his boots at the same time. In the bathroom, he hit the light and felt a shiver of dread crawl up his spine when it flickered ominously.

He scowled–knowing his luck, tonight would be the night that his shitty apartment collapsed.

Natsu shoved the black cargos down his trim hips and kicked them aside, stepping into his decrepit shower.

He grinned happily at the prospect of a proper showering, needing to feel clean for once, and he jerked the knob sharply to the left. The ancient pipes overhead groaned and whined as they always did, their squealing loud enough to put piglets to shame. They rumbled, clattering, and then…nothing happened.

The groaning halted, as did the clattering, but no water spewed from the shower head.

Natsu's nostrils flared as he jerked the knob the other way.

Fine, he didn't need a scalding shower, ice water would do at this point.

But still, nothing happened.

"You've gotta be shitting me," he snarled, resisting the urge to kick the wall. "Now? You pick now of all times to break?" He glared up at the shower nozzle, waiting for the temperamental thing to spit in his face like it always did.

…But it didn't. Not even a drop out of pity.

"Motherfuckin' great."

He'd jinxed himself.

Natsu clambered out of the shower with a dark scowl, snatching his cargos up off the floor. They smelled like smoke and accelerant, making him physically cringe, but he stuffed himself back into them anyway. The layer of grime and ash still coated his body.

He needed a shower.

He wouldn't be able to sleep with the scents of arson clinging to his skin–not that he'd been sleeping very well anyway. Storming through his house, collecting his stuffy sweater and his boots, Natsu re-dressed himself.

Honestly, he didn't know what he was doing; his body was just moving on its own.

Before he knew it, he was throwing open the door and stalking out into the muggy night, muttering curses under his breath. "Stupid fuckin'–agh," he growled and clenched his fists.

Not being able to rid himself of the evidence of the fire would drive him crazy. Smelling the smoke all night would ravage his mind, feeling the traces of the accelerant under his fingernails would tempt him.

He needed a shower.

Natsu hadn't set out with a purpose of any kind. He'd fled from his shitty excuse of a house in hopes of maybe clearing his head with the humid night. But, his feet had other plans–after what seemed like ages of walking, he began to recognizes features on the streets.

White-picket fences, painted mailboxes, manicured lawns and bird feeders.

Even though it was just before midnight, darkness swamping his environment, he could still recognize Strawberry Street. Especially the sight of Lucy's condominium.

Natsu's mindless wandering ended on Lucy's porch.

…Lucy had a shower, he thought.

She probably had a really nice shower with actual working pipes and water that stayed the same temperature for more than five minutes at a time. In his desperation, he couldn't help but wonder if maybe she would let him borrow it for just a little bit. He only needed a couple minutes, just long enough to wash the scents off.

But, directly after he knocked on the door, he had second thoughts.

Damn, he was so stupid. Walking all the way to her condo in the middle of the night so he could ask to borrow her shower? It was like some terribly written scene straight out of a trashy romance movie or something.

Besides, she was probably asleep and–

The door swung open, revealing Lucy Heartfilia in her baggy t-shirt with a tabby cat on it and mint green cotton shorts, her hair piled on top of her head. She gaped at him, her makeup-less face just as radiant as it had been earlier in the day. A toothbrush was hanging out of her mouth, white foam on her lips.

Natsu froze in the middle of his hasty retreat, one foot perched precariously behind him on a step.

Yanking the toothbrush out of her mouth and wiping her lips furiously, Lucy murmured in an incredulous voice, "Natsu? What are you doing here?"

Oh, nothing, I just walked all the way here to ask if I could borrow your shower instead of calling or texting like a normal person.

He swallowed past the sarcastic response in his head, wanting to smack himself. He was such an idiot.

"I…" Natsu rubbed the back of his grimy neck and then flinched–he felt like he could scrape the layers of dirt off. "My shower's broke," he muttered lamely, dropping his eyes to her feet encased in fuzzy bunny slippers.

Two pairs of little black, beady eyes stared up at him.

You know exactly why you're here, they said. And he had to stop himself from curling his lip at them.

"Your shower is broken?" Lucy echoed. "So…you came here."

Natsu ripped his eyes away from the soul-sucking gaze of the bunny slippers and fixed Lucy with a sheepish look. Shrugging one shoulder, he said, "I guess I did…"

His first instinct had been to go to Lucy. Natsu didn't know what that said about him.

Something small, blue, and furry wound its way in between Lucy's legs, "mrow"ing at the both of them for letting the summer air into the conditioned condo.

"Hey, Happy," Natsu greeted.

The cat yawned pointedly, sharp white teeth glinting in the light spilling from inside Lucy's condo. And for a moment, the three stood there awkwardly, basking in the dim lighting. Both Lucy and Natsu were looking pointedly at the cat who had curled up on her feet instead of at each other.

Eventually, Lucy coughed to break the silent tension. "So…did you want to borrow my shower, or…?" she asked hesitantly, pointing behind her with her pink toothbrush.

"Yeah," he answered, probably a little too quickly.

Jesus, he really was such an idiot.

"All right, um," Lucy took a few steps back, sending Happy scattering for a new place to sit, "come on in, then. You know where the bathroom is, so help yourself." She stuck the toothbrush back in her mouth, brushing absent-mindedly as he entered and shut the door softly behind him.

Just the atmosphere of her condo made him feel better than he had this past week.

Natsu started for the bathroom, then paused. "Ah, what about…?" He gestured to her mouth.

Blinking, Lucy looked down her nose at her toothbrush. "Oh," she slipped it out of her mouth, "don't worry. I can use the kitchen sink." Her pale cheeks were flushed a pretty pink, as though she were embarrassed to have been seen like this.

Natsu thought she looked…cute.

Relaxed and turning in for the night, her "detective mode" shelved away, and that sleepy look in her eyes.

Eyes that blinked slowly at him, bittersweet chocolate with questions in their depths, and he realized he'd been staring at her. Catching himself, Natsu darted to the bathroom and shut the door before rubbing his face.

He needed to stop doing that.

This time, he checked to make sure that the water worked before stripping–though he didn't doubt that Lucy's fancy condo had spectacular plumbing. Water came gushing from the showerhead without a fuss, hot and never ending, filling the decorative bathroom with steam and fogging the mirror.

As Natsu discarded his sweater and shucked his cargos, he took note of how different her bathroom was from his.

The floor was real tile, white and immaculate, while the sink was constructed out of silver and white swirled marble. At least, he thought it was marble–he'd never seen marble up close before, so he couldn't be too sure. But, he could definitely tell that it was fancy and had cost a pretty penny.

As had the tiny, decorative soaps shaped like stars that sat in a dish by the faucet.

There were mounted shelves on the pale yellow wall, filled with various toiletries and knick knacks; mostly perfumes, candles, and spare toilet paper with the decorative covers. The bathtub and shower combination, though, was the real kicker.

The tub was wide enough for three people, deep enough for him to sink up to his shoulders, and long enough that he could lay down in it. When he peered over the lip of the tub, tugging off his boots, he noticed that there were jets along the sides and the bottoms–it doubled as a jacuzzi.

In complete awe, Natsu climbed into the shower and ducked under the spray with a pleased groan. The water was perfect. And, as he discovered, the shower head was detachable…and had different settings. He fiddled with the settings alone for at least five minutes, in utter amazement that such a thing existed, before settling on one and using the scalding water on his back.

The only relatively 'normal' thing in Lucy's bathroom was her toilet–and even that had a cute, rubber-ducky yellow cover that matched the shower curtain and the rug.

He liked Lucy's bathroom much more than his own.

The hot water pounded into his sore muscles, un-knotting them with a gentle massage. Meanwhile, Natsu reached over and snagged a random bottle from the shelf next to his shoulder. He didn't read it, didn't care what it smelled like, so long as it rid him of the grimy feeling of ash and flame.

As he lathered it in his hands, the pleasant scent of strawberries wafted to his nose through the steam and he couldn't help but grin. Strawberries, of course. Chuckling to himself, Natsu proceeded to scrub his skin raw.

He scratched at his skin with his fingers and the soap until it stung and burned a little, leaving red streaks all over his body. He even clawed at his back, feeling the ugly ridges of his scar. The smell of smoke needed to go. Grimacing, Natsu grabbed more of the soap and squirted a generous amount into his hands before digging his fingers into his hair.

The suds were almost overwhelming, trickling into his eyes, as he lathered furiously.

But it was worth it, he thought, because after he stuck his head under the spray, he couldn't smell the smoke anymore. His skin felt raw, but fresh, and any traces of ash in his hair had been eradicated.

He felt…clean.

Natsu stood there under the hot pulsing water for a few more minutes, relishing the treat of a steady water temperature, before he turned it off with a twist of his hand. Raking his fingers through his soaked hair, Natsu yanked the shower curtain aside and reached for a towel…only to realize that there were none.

Blinking, he visually searched the bathroom from his spot inside the tub.

And came to the conclusion that there really were no towels in the bathroom.

"Uh, Lucy?" Natsu called as he stepped out of the tub and onto the yellow bath rug. "I don't have a towel…" His toes sank into the soft, fluffy material, and he couldn't help but marvel at it.

He wanted one.

The detective's response came seconds later, sounding muffled. "Oh! Sorry, I'll get you one. Just…hold on a second."

Her footsteps echoed down the hall, returning a few minutes later.

There was a soft knock on the door. "I've got your towel…" she murmured softly.

Shivering as the water cooled on his body, Natsu cracked the door open just enough for a pale hand to slip through with a fluffy white towel. He snagged it, throwing it around his hips and holding it there firmly, and then let the door open fully.

"Thanks," he said with a half-grin, and then turned around to gather his clothes off the floor.

He'd never particularly cared if he left his laundry lying around at his house. But this wasn't his house, and he didn't want Lucy picking up after him. Just as he scooped up his sweater, he heard her gasp.

"Oh, your back…"

Ohoho, so Lucy finally gets to see his ugly past... Stay tuned!

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I hope ya'll are prepared for Natsu's backstory...