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: A ton of reviews, and new reviewers. (And a lot of 'Mikey! Noooo!')
Gemdrive2000 – Ooh, you've read the stuff on my site. Cool. I so rarely get comment on that stuff, so it's nice to know someone is reading it.
KLCthebookwork – I like the 'sucker punch' bit in your review. I'm adopting that, if it's okay. New stories – now with more 'sucker punch angst'.
Chibi Rose Angel – Leo and Sen are cute. I quite agree. sigh (I think this is where I insert the evil laugh)
Reluctant Dragon – You know, I almost put a warning at the beginning of the last chapter. Danger! The bottom is looming ahead. Or something. But have we reached bottom yet? Hmm.
EntropyMage – If it makes you feel better to believe Mike only kissed her, then have at it. I'm not going to argue the point. And I'm evil! Yes, yes I am.
Pacphys – I actually gave you a shout-out in this chapter. See if you can find it.
Reinbeauchaser – Jumping in the East River. (slaps forehead) Why didn't I think of that? Yes, no one for poor Raph in this whole story. Sad, that.
Chapter 9:
Hours earlier …
"Whatever happened to the golden rule?" Juliet questioned anxiously, the phone clutched to her ear as she sat in her dim kitchen. She had closed the blinds, and avoided turning on the light. It was broad daylight outside, and Mike wasn't home yet.
And she was sitting in the dark like she had just committed a crime.
"You know," she continued. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you?Bill! This is so wrong." Juliet stood up and paced back and forth in front of the sink – a circuit from the stove to the fridge. "We have to call the police."
"No!" Bill objected strongly in her ear, and Juliet stopped her pacing. "No, now I know you're upset right now, Juliet, but just calm down."
"Upset!" Juliet cried out, running a hand through her hair, encountering knots. When had she last combed it? "Bill, this is murder!"
A cold silence fell over the line between them.
"Juliet, these are good men," Bill began in an even tone.
"What about the men who are dead! Bill I can't condone this, and I won't," Juliet countered sharply. She ripped her fingers free from her hair, and waited for a response.
"For the cause …," Bill said, and even he sounded weary of this argument.
"Don't give me that! Don't tell me that what we're doing allows us to kill anyone who stands in our way," she raged at him, on the edge of tears. She had respected this man, and nearly loved him like a father while she helped him build their group into something powerful – something that could change the world. And it had all been a fairytale. "How dare you do this in the name of everything I have worked so hard for! How dare you, Bill!"
Don and Sam hurried up the sidewalk. They were late to the dinner party, even though Sam had driven like a mad woman. It was a good thing, Don reflected, that she hadn't gotten a speeding ticket seeing as she was in law enforcement.Sam mounted the first step, and then spun around to peer at Don with the minimal aid of the streetlight. She smoothed the lapels of his suit jacket, and grinned at him.
"Lookin' sharp, Dr. Hamato," she complimented. "Even if you did take too long in the shower."
Don shrugged, the jacket tightening at his shoulders and showing off the muscles he still had from years of training and fighting. "I was coerced, Lieutenant." Sam raised her eyebrow, and turned back to the door as it opened.
"Gallagher," a mostly bald man greeted cheerfully, but his smile faltered as he took in Don. "And you brought a guest."
"Yes," Sam replied. She tugged Don forward. "Chief Jameson, I would like you to meet Dr. Don Hamato. Don teaches physics at NYU." Unprepared to deal either with an alien guest, or the calm pride in his favorite lieutenant's voice, Jameson let them both in. He stepped back from the door, and Don looked over the small crowd of guests. All human. He felt Sam's fingers tighten around his in a gesture of support as they entered.
"Something to drink … Dr. Hamato?" Jameson asked, leading them over to the small bar that had been set up for the party. Don felt hostile eyes following his every move.
"Just a seltzer water, please," Don said. No way was he getting drunk in this company. He suddenly wished for his bo staff.
"Sam?" Jameson questioned.
"Same," she replied. Don noted that her eyes were busy scanning the crowd. She met and held the gaze of everyone who dared eye contact. Not once did she break the stare first. Don remembered, very suddenly and forcefully, why he had fallen in love with her. Her ferocity and tenaciousness when she felt she was in the right was something to behold.
"Dinner is served," someone called from the direction of the dining room. Jameson was relieved – the less mingling right now, the better. Samantha looked ready to draw her weapon at any moment.
Once they were all sitting down, the efforts at polite conversation began.
"Samantha," Lieutenant Hollman began from across the table, swirling his red wine around in his glass in a pretentious display. "Is your friend new to the planet? Or have you known each other for a while?" His eyes flickered towards Don, who sat just beside Sam. She was close to the head of the table – at Jameson's right side.
"We've known each other for a while," Sam replied, her eyes narrowed at Hollman. He was heading up a narcotics team, but he wanted homicide.
"Do you live near the university, Dr. Hamato?" a woman asked from further down the table. "Dreadful housing in that area."
Before Don could answer, Sam leveled the table with a precise hit. "Actually, we live on the lower West side." She sipped at her water, and observed the deep and ringing silence around the table. Sam tried to cover her amusement. She could almost see the shock and horror on the face of the woman who had asked Don where he lived.
Don bit the inside of his cheek to keep from commenting. One day, Sam's temper was going to cost her another job.
"Yes, well, the prime rib is wonderful everyone. Eat up," Jameson noted loudly, filling the lull. Everyone began eating, and side conversations started around the table. Sam looked over to see Hollman smiling at her like a cat with the canary in his greedy paws. She glanced over at Jameson, but he avoided her eyes.
She looked down at her plate, but her appetite had fled. This wasn't just about Don.
Her whole career was on the line.
Looking down at his hands flat on the kitchen table, Mike waited for Juliet to speak. His throat ached from forcing out the words to describe his betrayal. He hadn't slept all night, wanting only to lay the truth in front of her. He glanced up, and looked at her profile as she sat sideways in the chair, her eyes on the sunlit kitchen window. Her hair was untidy, and her face was splotchy with crying.
And she was still so beautiful that it made his heart hurt.
She had opened the blinds this morning, desperate for something normal and good to come into the apartment again. She had been looking out at the street when Mike came in and asked to talk to her. Each and every word he had said was like a knife to her soul, but it was no less than she deserved. This was karma, wasn't it? For the lives she had ruined through her inattention – through her belief that she was right, and therefore everyone around her was right, too that no wrongs would be committed on the path to enlightening her fellow human beings. She looked down, unable to bear the sunlight any more.
"Who is she?" Juliet asked at last, her hands twisting the delicate band Mike had given her on their first anniversary. Her wedding ring, essentially.
"Amber. Noelle's piano teacher," Mike replied. He sounded and looked like he seen the inside of hell. His eyes were dull, and his hands rested listlessly on the smooth Formica surface of the table.
"Have to find her a new teacher," Juliet noted, her tone biting. Mike winced, but he didn't turn away. "Is it over?" Juliet questioned sharply.
"Yes," Mike said, and Juliet finally looked at him.
"I know I haven't been here lately, but I thought …" she started, but then stopped and put away the accusations she was about to make. Mike was hardly the only one at the table who had committed a sin. "I have to tell you about the group – something has to be done about …"
A sudden and hard knock at the door caused both of them to jump in their seats.
"I'll get it," Juliet offered, and stood up. Mike followed her to the front door.
She knew, even before she opened it, that bad news waited for her on the other side. But it could not be avoided. All the bills were coming due today.
"Juliet Sanders?" the man in the dark suit and sunglasses said when she had barely opened the door. She nodded, and only distantly heard his next words through the roaring in her ears. He had an NYPD detective's badge in plain view around his neck. "You're under arrest."
Sam stood up, and dusted off her pants. It was an occupational hazard to have to crouch over bodies from time to time. She had another victim of her serial killer – another young man beaten to death, and this time dumped in an alley. This was different than the others, which had been left on public display. This one had almost been hidden in the shadow of a dumpster.
Her detectives milled about with the crime scene investigators, taking notes, lighting up cigarettes, and talking quietly over their cups of coffee.
"So, this some crazed alien, boss?" one of the older, grizzled detectives asked. The question was punctuated by a wry chuckle, and Sam felt her temper flare. Of course it was now common knowledge in the department that she lived with Don. The jibes, and outright slanders, were bound to follow.
"More likely it was a human," Sam replied evenly. "Nothing matches the evil that men do."
"Sure you're not a little biased?" someone else questioned. Sam felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck.
"I want a report on this scene in one hour," Sam ordered, heading for the mouth of the alley. She needed to get out onto the street and away from her people before she said something she would regret. Once she had her feet on the sidewalk, she sucked in a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, she didn't startle when her phone started to ring.
"Gallagher," she answered it.
"Sam? I need your help." Mike's voice came out of the speaker, and it sounded like he had been crying.
"Mike? What's …?"
"It's Jules. Sam, she's been arrested," Mike continued anxiously.
"Where?" Sam asked, already hurrying for her car.
"Bastards," Sam seethed, storming down the hall of her precinct with a worried Mike in her wake. The FBI, working with Dan, had made a connection between Juliet's alien rights group and the killings. And they had cut her out of the information entirely.
When she got her hands on Dan …
They reached the door of an interrogation room. An FBI agent was standing by the door, speaking to an older, distinguished man in a suit. The FBI agent slid neatly in front of the doorknob before Sam could reach for it.
"Out of the way," Sam commanded.
"Lieutenant …," the FBI agent started in a placating tone, raising his hands to stop her.
"Who are you?" Sam queried sharply, turning on the suit.
"I am representing Ms. Sanders-Hamato. Her group hired me to provide counsel," the lawyer explained. Sam gritted her teeth in frustration. This slime ball wasn't here for Juliet. He was here for the group – ensuring that only Juliet went down. Not on Sam's watch.
"Mr. Hamato would like to speak with his significant other," Sam said, using her trump card. The lawyer nodded briefly, and motioned the agent out of the way. Mike stepped inside, and Sam trailed after him with a small smile, taking great satisfaction in shutting the door in the FBI agent's face.
Inside, though, there was more of a surprise waiting for her.
"Dan, get out," Sam ordered. Dan stood up from his chair across from Juliet, his face unusually pale.
"Sam, it's …," he began.
"Get. Out," she snarled, and Dan moved around the table and out the door with alacrity. He knew from long experience not to argue with Sam when she was in a certain mood.
"My client has nothing to say to you," the lawyer interjected, placing a hand on Juliet's shoulder. Mike frowned, and Juliet just sat there uncomfortably, her face pale and streaked with tears.
"I say you get out, too," Mike stated, and Sam sat down in Dan's recently vacated chair to observe. The lawyer straightened up, and tried looking down his patrician nose at Mike. That lasted for about three seconds, before the lawyer cleared his throat, and stepped out of the room with a muttered rejoinder about 'being back soon.'
Mike dropped into the chair next to Juliet's, and the two of them faced Sam across the industrial gray table.
"We don't have a lot of time," Sam said, getting straight to the point. "They wouldn't have you here for no reason, Juliet."
"I'm responsible," Juliet offered, her voice shaking. "I knew, and I did nothing." She turned wide, wet eyes on Mike. "I wanted to tell you," she choked out. "But then …" Mike looked stricken. "I'm so sorry," she added anxiously. Mike put one of his hands over hers.
"You knew. When?" Sam questioned, glancing at the clock. Time was ticking away here. She needed to track down the D.A. and see if she could get any leniency for Juliet at all.
"At the rally. Last night," she answered, glancing at Sam. "Bill … he told me about it."
"I need names, Juliet. If you cooperate with me, then I can make a deal with the district attorney," Sam explained rapidly. "But you can't hold anything back. You can't protect Bill, or anyone else. And I can't guarantee that you'll walk away."
Juliet nodded. "Alright," she agreed breathlessly. It was time to confess, and face the consequences for her actions.
