Disclaimer: I only own Scarlett Monroe!

Chapter 3: Dead Reflection

Once Scarlett and Flack were seated at their favorite greasy chinese food joint a few blocks away from the precinct, Scarlett settled into the hard plastic seat, propping her small feet up on the seat next to Flack. She tugged off her blazer and ran her hands through her long dark wavy locks, covering up a yawn with her small hand.

Scarlett grabbed a menu and bit down on her lip, having trouble figuring out just what exactly she was in the mood for.

"I think it's your turn to pick, Lett," Flack said, keeping his eyes on the menu. They'd gone out for chinese often enough that they'd developed a habit of ordering two dishes and splitting them.

"Donnie, lets split the sweet and sour chicken and the chicken broccoli," Scarlett said, folding her menu up and dropping it on the table.

"You got it kiddo," he said with a charming smile. He went up to order and came back a few minutes later with Scarlett's favorite drink to have whenever she ate Chinese: a diet coke.

Scarlett stuck a straw in her diet coke can and took a sip, getting lost in the same thoughts that she'd had back in Flack's office.

Flack didn't say anything to Scarlett even though his partner had clearly zoned out. He studied her face and knew he was staring. Although he'd known Scarlett for quite some time, he couldn't help but think that she was one of those women that you had to stop and stare at just because there was something captivating about her. She wasn't a model, those weren't his type anyway. He cleared his throat when her blue gray eyes caught his and looked over to the waiter who brought over their food and set it down in front of them.

"Something bothering you, Lett?" Flack asked, picking up a chopstick and digging into the chicken and broccoli.

Scarlett shook her head, her long dark chocolate hair framing her face. She smiled, but it wasn't a genuine Scarlett smile. When she smiled, her whole face lit up and her eyes crinkled. Now she was simply smiling to avoid any sort of explanation as to why she looked so bothered.

"I'm just...," she started to say, and looked down at her food before finishing her sentence, "tired."

"Mhm, sure you are," Flack said, his mouth full.

She looked at him, "No, really. I'm tired. These cases that we've been working on these past two weeks have been wearing me out. I can't remember the last time I got a decent nights sleep. I don't even know how many overtime hours I've managed to clock."

Don reached over and squeezed her hand. "I know how you feel, Lett. You need to relax, take a day off," he said, although he knew how she was about vacations. "Or at least go out and enjoy yourself. I'll take you out for a drink after this, how's that?"

She laughed lightly, this time giving him a genuine smile, "Well this was supposed to be chinese and a beer so I can't really say no."

Their food was interrupted by a page from Mac reporting a body dump in Central Park. They were out the door before they'd even gotten comfortable.

"Didn't even get to finish my dinner," Scarlett grumbled as Flack sped to the scene.

"Once we catch the guy, we'll have him reimburse you. How's that sound?" Flack asked with a laugh.

"Shut up, Flack" Scarlett said. She took her scrunchie off of her wrist and tied her hair up in a pony tail. Once they were at the scene, she sighed and stepped out of the SUV, jogging over to the scene where Stella Bonasera was photographing the body.

"I gotta warn, you kid," Stella said as Scarlett approached the body, "she looks a lot like..."

Scarlett stopped in her tracks, surprise all over her face. "Me," Scarlett said, cutting her off. "Oh my god," she whispered, quietly enough so that Stella couldn't hear her. Stella was kind and understanding, but when she was at a crime scene she was all business. There was absolutely no reason for Scarlett to be uncomfortable, except that the victim could have been her twin.

"Just another crime scene," Stella said, going back to examine the body.

Scarlett knelt down before the body and felt like she was looking into a mirror. The victim in front of her was around the same height and had the same dark long hair, high cheekbones, and full lips. They even had the same small nose. Ignoring the obvious similarities, Scarlett started processing the scene and examining the victim. She noticed bruises around the victims wrists and ankles, as if she'd been bound.

She turned the victims head slightly and saw a large wound on the back of her skull. "Blunt force trauma," she muttered to herself.

After Scarlett was finished processing the scene, she shut her kit and tore off her gloves. She turned and walked over to where Flack was standing, interrupting the statement he was in the middle of receiving from the woman who had found the body.

"I was out, walking my dog and he ran over to where she was and then-"

"Go look at her, Flack."

"Let, you're shaking," Flack said to Scarlett, gently grabbing her arm. He looked back at the witness and said, "I've got everything I need ma'm. If you remember anything else, give me a call," Flack said handing her his card.

Flack walked back over to the body with Scarlett, looking at her face. The second he laid eyes on the victim, he knew why Scarlett was so freaked out. The victim could have been Scarlett's twin.

She took in a breath trying to gain her composure. Scarlett was no stranger to brutal killings and bloody crime scenes but this was a little difficult to swallow.

A few minutes later, Mac Taylor and Lindsay Monroe had arrived at the scene.

"The body's ready to be taken back to the lab, Mac. Stella finished photographing the scene, I've collected samples and particulates. We're about done here," Scarlett said, trying to keep her voice flat and professional. She liked Mac and he was an awesome boss, but in front of him she had to keep her emotions in check.

"Alright, go home get some sleep. You've got an early shift tomorrow," Mac said.

Scarlett nodded and walked away from the scene, planning to walk home to try and clear her mind. She may have been tough but even she felt scared and uncomfortable at times.

"Lett, my cars over there," Flack said, pointing to his SUV. "Where are you going?"

"I'm walking home, Don. Goodnight."

She heard his footsteps behind her and she tried to quicken her pace. He reached her and grabbed her arm, turning her around to face him.

"Flack," she whined, "I'm f-"

"No, you aren't."

Scarlett wasn't smiling; her beautiful blue gray eyes looked scared and sad and her lower lip was trembling. He reached over and stroked her hair, pulling in for a hug. She struggled but finally gave in, giving him a tiny hug.

"Please let me go, Don. I don't want a ride. I'll see you tomorrow," she said, standing up on her tip toes to peck him on the cheek.

Flack watched her walk up the street, keeping his eyes on her back until she was out of sight. He knew better than to argue with her, she was stubborn and managed to keep up a tough front, often refusing help even though she obviously needed it. He felt bad for letting her go, but he really had no other choice.

Hours later, Flack was laying in bed, Scarlett's scared face in his mind. He picked up his phone, looking through his contacts until he found the name he was looking for.