Title: Moth and Flame – The sequel to the 'Cat and Mouse' series

Author: Jayde

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Seven years have passed since the events of 'Rest in Peace'.

Credits: Thanks to Sassy, once again, for the excellent and timely beta.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the turtles. I borrow them only for entertainment purposes. No profit or harm intended.

Chapter 1:

Six years earlier …

"You can't keep doing this!"

Don, standing several feet away with one two toed foot up on the ledge, shrugged dismissively at his brother's command. They were standing on a rooftop in the dead of night.

"Donnie, I'm serious," Leo said furiously. He was keeping his voice low, just in case, but there was an edge to it that indicated he wasn't going to give up. "You are taking too many risks following her."

"What do you want me to do?" Don asked, his tone resigned.

Leo turned his head, looking away from the slump in his brother's shoulders. He didn't want to deny Don anything, but this had to stop. "Give her up, bro, and move on," Leo said at last.


The world has changed. So much so, that it was hard to remember what it was before the aliens landed. Three years ago, watching that first meeting on television, she had been forcibly reminded of her old friends. Were they watching this?

What had it meant to them?

Sam shrugged the question away, just as she shrugged so many things away with the excuse that it would wait a little longer.

What it had meant for her, though, was a new opportunity within the police department. A new unit had been created 18 months ago – a specialized homicide division to handle the increasing numbers of alien-related murders. And as an up and comer in the department, she had been offered the promotion to lead it. It still gave her an enormous flush of pride when someone called her 'lieutenant'.

Today, though, was the ugly side of the job. A call had come in about a murder on the NYU campus – and that early officers on the scene reported an alien involved. Because it was expected to be high profile, and the media was already swarming over the story – she had come down to participate in the questioning.

Maybe it was the time she had spent in the company of the turtles, but somehow the alien creatures she met through her job never seemed to faze her. She paused before the door to the interrogation room, and took a deep breath as she smoothed out her professional suit jacket. Pasting on an appropriate smile, Sam opened the door … and promptly halted in open-mouthed surprise.

"Don?" she asked in a shocked whisper.

The two detectives – one leaning against the window frame, and the other seated across from the turtle, glanced at her in surprise.

"Um, If you would excuse us for a moment," Sam said, recovering a little of her poise. The detectives shrugged and headed for the door.

"We're done anyway, Lieutenant," one of them offered on his way out.


With the detectives out of the way, Sam shut the door on the interrogation room and sat down across from the turtle. He looked so much the same, and so very different.

"Nice suit," she complimented dryly. It helped to cover the sudden nervous tension in her stomach, and the perspiration that coated her palms.

"Thank you," Don replied, his voice just as warm and gentle as she had remembered it. "Am I under arrest?"

"No," Sam denied quickly, shaking her head. She rested her arms on the table and leaned forward. "Of course not. Just some questions about how you found the body." Don nodded slightly. "It … it shouldn't take long," Sam added, cursing inwardly at her own anxiousness. Where was the smooth and polished homicide lieutenant now?

"I was heading into the lab with two students. I turned on the lights, and there he was," Don said in a neutral tone of voice, his hands cupped together and resting on the surface of the cold metal table. "I'm afraid I don't know any more than that."

"Yes, well," Sam responded, suddenly at a loss. She tried to think of something else to ask him, and couldn't come up with a single thing. "Should I have someone call you a cab?" she offered, rising to her feet a little unsteadily.

"No, I'll find my way," Don said, standing as well. The light from the windows cut stripes across his body parallel to the dusty blinds.

"Would you … I'd like to see you, again," Sam stated baldly, and then winced at her runaway tongue. She looked over at him uncertainly. His eyes were in shadow, but his mouth was smiling. She tried on a smile as well. "Dinner, maybe? Tomorrow night at my place?" It was an incredibly bold move, and she wrapped her hands together to keep them from trembling visibly.

"Alright," Don accepted lightly, and she relaxed a little. Now she just had to think of something to cook.


"Mom! Where the hell are my shoes?"

A woman with a spatula in one hand, and a phone in the other shouted back.

"Noelle, watch your language!" Juliet responded, and then grumbled quietly to herself about not allowing her children to spend so much time with Uncle Raphael. She then proceeded to try and turn the eggs while continuing with her telephone conversation. "Bill? Sorry. Yes, I can be there today."

Mike entered the kitchen, and calmly snatched the spatula from his wife's hand. She moved out of the way as he took over the breakfast cooking. Instead, she wandered out into the hall to look for the missing shoes. "Bill, hang on," she said into the phone. "Noelle, your shoes are right beside the hall closet!" she yelled. "Bill, I'll be there. You know I always come through," Juliet reassured in a voice with far less volume. Back in the kitchen, Rachel drifted in to slip up behind Mike. Before she could so much as breathe on him, he had spun around to point the spatula at her in a threatening manner.

"Damn," the fifteen-year-old pouted. "You're still fast, old man."

"Don't forget it," Mike retorted, but he was smiling when he turned back to his cooking. Juliet walked back into the kitchen, the phone still to her ear. Mike's smile wobbled at the all too familiar sight.

"Sure. I'll be there in less than an hour. Bye," Juliet said, and hung up. She flashed a bright smile at Rachel. "Hey! You don't mind taking the bus to your martial arts class, do you?"

"No, mother," Rachel huffed, and Mike set a plate in front of her.

"I'll drive you," Mike said, setting a similar plate on the table for Juliet, but she waved it away.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Juliet said, refusing the food. "I've got to be at the State capitol building this morning." She blew Mike a kiss, and hurried back to the bedroom. Mike looked sadly down at the breakfast, and then sat down in front of it. He picked up his fork, and toyed with the eggs for a moment.

Rachel, sitting across from him, wished her mother were here to see this. But then, her mother was never there any more. She was an activist now, the teenager thought with a sardonic smile. She protested, wrote letters, campaigned and generally made a nuisance of herself – all in the name of alien rights specifically, the right for aliens to marry humans.

In a way, it was sort of romantic. Her mom's complete dedication to a cause that should have brought her closer to her husband, and yet it didn't. Because she was never home.

It sucked, actually. Every activity and event, Mike was there. He was – and at one time this would have pained Rachel to admit – a really good dad.

Which was necessary, since their mother was practically nonexistent.