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: Sassy, for beta reading and generally being awesome.
Disclaimer: I do NOT own the turtles. I borrow them only for entertainment purposes. No profit or harm intended. Okay, well, not much harm. Psychological harm.
Author's Notes: I know. All these updates! I'm at home with a sick child today, and I have a lot of time on my hands. Thank you, everyone, for the wonderful, thoughtful and numerous reviews.
Chapter 7:
Two years earlier …
"So, you're gonna teach here?" Noelle asked, scuffing the toe of her tennis shoe back and forth on the floor as she stood shyly in the doorway.
Leo, working to unbolt a ballet bar from the wall without damaging the mirrors, grunted something unintelligible in response. It was one of those strange circumstances that occasionally happen in families – the two least communicative relatives were forced to be together. Mike and Juliet had dropped off Rachel and Noelle at the new school. Rachel was in with Raphael getting her first lesson with her new sensei, which left Noelle to stand around and wait.
"Could I help?" Noelle offered, and Leo paused in his task to glance back at her. Nine-years-old, her legs too long for her body, and her eyes on the floor – Leo thought back to his own childhood for a moment.
"Sure," he replied, and saw her head come up as she looked at him with surprise. "Come over and hold the bar up."
Uncertainly, Noelle crossed the room to where Leo was kneeling on the wood floor. She took a hold of the bar with both hands.
"Just steady it there," Leo instructed. He went back to work with his wrench again, forcing the bolts to move with brute strength. "Don't drop it on me," he admonished when the bar tilted a little. Noelle redoubled her efforts, and leaned her weight against it.
A couple of things happened simultaneously. The bolt popped free, Raphael shouted suddenly – his voice booming from across the hall, and Noelle lost her grip on the bar. She gasped, scrambling to keep it from falling, but then it wasn't. It was staying in place.
Noelle looked over, and saw Leo's hand on the bar. She offered him a sheepish smile. "Sorry," she said softly.
Leo, still keeping the bar in place, stood up with a deep sigh. "Think you could get the other end?" Noelle nodded, and raced over to grab the far end of the heavy, wood bar. Following his lead, Noelle helped wrestle the bar on to the floor without dropping it. "Okay. Good," Leo complimented, straightening up again.
"Uncle Leo?"
"Hmm," Leo responded, wondering what to do with the bar now that he had it off the wall. It wasn't going to fit in the dumpster …
"Who's going to be my sensei?" Noelle queried. "When, you know, Dad isn't doing it anymore?"
Leo smiled at her. "If it's okay with you, I would like to be your sensei."
"Yeah?" Noelle beamed back at him. "Yeah," she agreed, really quite happily.
Every once in a while, Mike thought that they should have moved out of New York and to a small town – maybe even a farm.
This was one of those times.
He had searched for the past half hour, and there was no sign of Rachel. He had called her friends from his cell phone as he walked the streets near their apartment building, but none of them knew where she was. He was getting desperate, so he called Raph.
"So she just took off?" Raph questioned over the phone.
"She fought with Juliet, and I … I just gotta find her," Mike responded anxiously, pausing under a streetlight.
"Hey, Mikey, she'll be okay. She's a tough kid, and she knows what to do to protect herself. I made sure of that," Raph reassured him. "I'm gonna go look for her right now. Stay in touch."
Mike rang off, and tucked the phone into his jacket pocket as a light rain started. He started walking again, hoping that Raphael was right, and that she was prepared to be out on the streets alone – at least until he could bring her home.
Miles away, Raph was rushing down the stairs to get his bike. He opened the back door, and froze. Sitting on the step in the dark, still in her dress from the recital, was Rachel. She peered up at him, her eyes red and puffy.
"I couldn't think where else to go," she admitted, her voice rough from crying.
"Get in here," Raph ordered, moving out of the way. Rachel stood up a little unsteadily, and ducked inside. Raph shut the door, and pointed her into the kitchen. Rachel sat down on a stool at the island, and Raph wet a paper towel in the sink, and handed it to her. "Put that on your eyes. You look like hell."
Rachel complied without protest, and Raph went to the fridge, fetching two sodas. He put them on the island, and pushed one over to her.
"Mike's freakin' out," he noted, resting on a stool and watching her as she wiped at her eyes. "You wanna talk about it?"
"No," Rachel replied shortly.
"Good," Raph shot back, opening his soda and taking a long drink. "'Cause I got somethin' to say." Raphael waited until she looked up at him to continue. "You can't fix 'em, so quit tryin'." Rachel responded with a puzzled look. "If they're gonna split up, or work it out – you can't change it. You just gotta roll with it."
Rachel's forehead wrinkled into a deep frown. "But I don't want them to …"
"It don't matter what you want," Raph said, overriding her. "You gotta let 'em take care of it on their own." He opened her soda, and prodded it a little closer to her, nodding for her to drink. Once she took a sip, he went on. "No matter what happens, Rach, you're still family. If it gets so bad you can't stand it, you can stay here. We got room." Rachel's eyes widened at the offer. "Noelle, too, okay?"
"Okay," Rachel agreed, stunned. "You know," she added, toying with her soda can. "You sounded like Master Splinter just now. Well, not exactly," Rachel corrected. "But kinda like him."
"Yeah?" Raph questioned, his expression pleased. He nodded, and drank from his soda can. "Yeah. Guess I'm gettin' wise in my old age."
Pausing underneath a couple of trees for a little shelter from the downpour, Mike wiped his wet hand on his pants before grasping his cell phone to answer it.
"Yeah," he said shortly, peering out under the brim of his baseball cap at the rain.
"She's here."
Mike closed his eyes, and leaned against the trunk of the tree for a moment as the relief flooded him. "Thanks, Raph. Should I come get her?"
"Nah, let her stay here tonight," Raph replied. "I'll bring her by in the morning."
"Thanks, bro. Really, thanks," Mike offered. He hung up, and rested his head against the bark. He was soaked to the skin, exhausted from searching, but he didn't really want to go home. To go back to the apartment again meant having to face Juliet – potentially. And he didn't know what to say anymore.
But Noelle was there, and Noelle needed him. Mike pushed away from the tree, and stepped onto the sidewalk again. The drops pelted him away from the protection of the leaves and branches, and he tucked his head down a bit as he walked. It took him a few moments to realize that a car horn was blaring from right beside him.
He stopped and turned, hands automatically reaching under his jacket for the nunchucks he kept out of sight.
"Mike!"
He knew that voice, and relaxed a fraction. "Amber?" he queried loudly, trying to be heard above the pounding rain.
"Get in the car!" she shouted back. A trifle uncertain, but anxious to get out of the rain, Mike obliged and headed through the wet grass to the car. He opened the door, and gingerly sat down. He knew he was getting the seat wet.
"Hey," he said, once he was settled. He took off his baseball cap and wiped a hand over his brow. Amber started up her car again, and struggled to peel off her jacket. Once she was free of it, she held it out to Mike.
"Take it, and dry off a little," she insisted. Mike accepted it with a nod, and wiped off his head. There was a trace of perfume in the clothing – something floral and sweet – and he put the jacket down on the console between them. "It's raining cats and dogs," Amber noted, craning to see through her windshield. "What are you doing out here?"
"Taking a walk," Mike lied. He wasn't about to share Rachel's running away. Amber turned her head and studied him very seriously. He realized that there wasn't much of a secret here. She had been at the recital, after all. "I'm sorry about the reception," he offered.
"It's alright. Is Noelle okay?" Amber asked, relaxing back against the car seat. Mike nodded, his eyes drifting down to his wet jeans. They were damned uncomfortable right now. "Are you okay?" That question got his attention back.
"Sure. Yeah," he responded vaguely.
"I know it's none of my business, but if you need someone to talk to … I feel like we're friends, because of Noelle," she rambled. Mike frowned as he tried to follow along. "I just don't like to see everyone upset," she finished. Mike remained silent, uncertain what to say. "Would you have coffee with me tomorrow? Please?"
Mike sighed. What would it hurt? And maybe it would be good to talk with someone. "Okay."
"Great. I'll drive you home," Amber said, facing the windshield again.
"I can walk," Mike objected, but they both could see that the rain hadn't let up in the slightest while they spoke together.
"I'm not going to leave you here. It's only a few more blocks," Amber argued successfully. Mike sat back, and put on his seatbelt.
"Alien rights now! Alien rights now!"
The chant was piercingly loud, and Juliet stared from the courthouse steps at the large crowd they had gathered for the rally. She felt the excitement that permeated all of these events flowing through her – charging her batteries again. It was here – the energy for change existed in this space and time.
She glanced across the street, hearing another chant starting up. Her face fell as she recognized the signs. A small group of alien haters had come together to counter protest. Juliet motioned to Bill, and he nodded in response. He had seen them, too. From her higher elevation, Juliet watched as some of the participants in her rally turned towards the protesters. A shouting match started between the two sides, and Juliet glanced hurriedly at Bill.
He didn't return her gaze. His eyes were fixed on the scene unfolding before them. Juliet glanced back, and saw people she recognized – people she worked with every day – start across the street.
"No!" she shouted, but went unheard above the din. She rushed down a couple of steps, and tried to push through the crowd.
Distantly, she could hear the fight start. The chanting was now punctuated with shrieks and yells. Juliet ducked between two people and struggled for the street. She had to stop this. It wasn't supposed to go this way.
The crowd suddenly gave in front of her, and Juliet stumbled to the curb edge, pin wheeling her arms to keep from falling to the pavement. On the street lay two men, battered and bloodied. Sirens approached from somewhere to the east, and Juliet wavered a little, her hand to her mouth. She felt her gorge rising, and fought not to throw up.
"I can't believe it was there all along," Sam mused, four open files in front of her, spread across a wooden table marred with deep scratches. The mellow light in the room made the walls recede into distant shadow as Sam leaned over the table.
"It's not like they were carrying membership cards. Not that I blame them," Dan noted wryly. "Who wants to admit they're in a human supremacy group?" Sam looked up to give her old friend an appreciative grin.
"I owe you," she stated. "This may crack the case for me." Sam was over the moon pleased – each of the victims did have something in common after all. They were part of a group that was campaigning to have the aliens evicted from the city – not to mention the planet.
"You can take me out to dinner," Dan replied lightly, and Sam's smile softened.
"Sure, I think we're free on Thursday," she noted, and observed thoughtfully as his eyes flickered away from hers.
"We, huh?" Dan said, rubbing at his hair – an old tick that gave away his discomfort.
"It bothers you, doesn't it?" Sam asked, sitting down on the edge of the table, careful not to disturb the victim files. "Me and Don?" She wanted it out in the open.
"I just worry about you," Dan responded vaguely. Sam shook her head, and hung on to the edge of the table with both hands. She fought down her temper – Don had given her some good advice on how to keep from flying off the handle, and she was going to use it.
"I don't need you to worry about me," Sam retorted. Of course, she would probably need a lot more work before she had her temper in hand entirely. "Do you need to be reassigned to another case?" she queried in a sharp and serious tone. Nothing should get in the way of the investigation.
"No," Dan said, turning towards the door. "I'm still on the case." He headed out, and only banged the door shut marginally harder than usual. Sam deflated a little, alone now, and hung her head to look at her dress shoes with irritation.
Don had warned her that she might get some flack from friends and co-workers for being involved with an 'alien'. She had believed him, but she had not pictured getting it from Dan.
Sam kicked off her shoes, and hopped off the table. She whirled back to the folders, determined to concentrate on the things she could change – like finding this killer before he struck again. She had the connection now between the victims. The 'Earthlings First' group, based right here in New York City.
