Hiya, Philine aka snogfairy here! I'm the one doing the first Act, as Neena lovingly labeled it hehe. It will span the first 7 chapters! Without much further ado, let's continue the story!

There is a small nsfw scene in this one, so if you prefer not to read it, I marked the beginning and end with 'xxx'. Enjoy!

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"the state of combustion in which inflammable material burns, producing heat, flames, and often smoke"

The clicking of keyboards and beeping of printers filled the open space; a background noise Lucy had long since gotten used to.

With a tired sigh, she applied some balm to her slightly sore lips. She should really reduce her nervous chewing, she thought with a frown. Tracing her index finger along her bottom lip, she felt the splintered skin that was now thickly covered with the balm.

Suppressing a yawn, she looked back down at the small mountain of papers littering her desk. Everything had its place, documents neatly arranged in their spots and ready to be signed, reports waiting to be checked, letters to be answered… but the sheer amount of it was enough to make Lucy's eyelids droop down heavily. The afternoon slump was really getting to her.

Her hand moved to cover her mouth, and she gave in to a hearty yawn.

Just when she was about to put her pen to paper, an avalanche of intricate shadows cascaded over the document in front of her. They were caused by a mess of blue locks.

"Are you free?"

"Levy," the woman smiled, glancing upwards as she pushed a strand of loose hair back behind her ear, "yeah, please relieve me from this agony."

"I brought you a coke," Levy said with a grin. In her other hand she held a steaming mug patterned with flowers that stated I Love My Garden - a misguided present by the department's self-declared number one prankster. The short woman swore she hated it, but it was the only mug she ever used. "Thought some caffeine would do you good."

"You're a lifesaver."

"I know." Snatching an empty desk chair from across the walkway, Levy dropped down on it beside her friend. "So, how's it going?"

"Slowly," Lucy groaned, resisting the urge to bump her forehead against the desk. "I have another interrogation later today, a guy called Ichi-" she glanced down at a paper to her right, "- Ichiya Vandalay Kotobuki. Has a history of sexual harassment. Can't say I'm looking forward to that one. But I still have to finish this report before that…"

"Don't overwork yourself, Lu."

"Says the terminator of paper work!"

Not without pride, Levy pushed her red glasses back upwards. "Well.." she muttered, "I wouldn't go that far…" Her satisfied smile told a different story.

"Oh be quiet," Lucy laughed, taking a big sip of her coke. The cool liquid slid down her throat, flushing new life into her body. She sighed wholly. Then her gaze drifted over to her colleague, who was fidgeting in her chair. What had her so excited?

Oh, right.

There were only two things that could get Levy so excited.

And by process of elimination, in this case it had to be her first true love: information.

A small grin worked itself onto Lucy's face, and she felt how the company already started shaking the fatigue off her. That, and the promise to learn more about the grumpy, firebreathing dragon she had had the pleasure of meeting this morning.

"Now, I know you're just itching to fill me in with the details. Tell me about Natsu Dragneel."

Levy's eyes widened just a small bit, surprise flashing over her face.

"Weren't they going to let him go? You still want the file?"

"You didn't bring it?"

"I was told it wouldn't be needed anymore."

Lucy cocked her head, humming pensively. "Yeah. I want to read up on him regardless. But I know you memorized it all…" Lucy grinned at her colleague. "It would be a shame to let that go to waste."

The constable answered with a smile of her own.

"Fine, I can tell you. I'll still send you the complete file later, okay?"

"Please."

"Well," she began, taking a large sip of coffee as if to prepare herself, "to start with it seems he had a rather tragic childhood; there was something documented about a negligent parent. I read he was put into an orphanage. It ended up in the file because the police was somehow involved in that too - he ran away and they searched for days, but he never reappeared. I guess that's when he got into bad company. I just skimmed over that whole part anyways, but it gets quiet around him then, no mentions at all until the incident that got him into prison."

Lucy filed away the tragic childhood for later. Sympathy was inept at her workplace, even if she could feel a slight twinge stabbing at her insides. Children with bad parents always had taken a soft spot in her heart. She pushed the thoughts away before they could get to her.

"Ah yes, you were filling me in with the basics earlier. That's where it gets relevant. How'd he get caught?"

"Never made it out of the fire. It was an office building, with only a handful of people left inside. Four, if I remember correctly, and no casualties. He probably was hired for some kind of insurance coup - he didn't have any personal reasons at all - but he kept his mouth shut so they never could confirm it. Thing is, it was very clear from the way he'd done it that he was not some small fry. He had to be a specialist. But that knowledge alone wasn't enough, of course. The police needed evidence for that."

"But they found nothing?" Lucy bit her lip, concentration high on her face. The balm had long worn off, providing no more protection to the sensitive skin. "So that was pure suspicion on their part then. We can't take that as a fact, even if it turned out to be true one day. For all we know, it was a one-time incident."

Levy nodded seriously, hands clutching her mug.

"So they chose to take him to court for just this one case?"

"They didn't really have a choice. The burning had attracted quite the attention, public eyes and all. The media was on them; they had to arrest someone. And they had their offender, so they sent him behind bars even if they would have preferred to get him for more than just one case of arson."

Tipping her glass to the side and watching the liquid swish from one side to the other, Lucy hummed. The media ruining investigations didn't come as a surprise. And pressure, whether public or by higher ups, was nothing new to her either.

"So they were convinced he was a serial arsonist, then."

"Well, you see, from what I read he had been suspected to be the Salamander many times before, but there never had been enough evidence to actually arrest him." Levy pursed her lips. "But something must have went wrong that night, because they found him in the building, with a support beam crushed over his back. A little later and the firemen wouldn't have been able to save him. Got treated for those injuries for almost a year, first in the hospital and then later on in the prison facility. They say he went inside the burning building to get the people who were trapped there out, but that story might have been blown up by the defense lawyer."

"Oh my…" Lucy took a sip of her coke, trying not to imagine the gruesome scene. It tasted weirdly bitter. "Wait - the Salamander? Even I have heard that name. That was him?! Shouldn't he have sat in prison for the rest of his life?"

"Well, that's the thing. They couldn't prove Dragneel was the Salamander, even after they caught him. Because in this specific fire, all the usual factors - accelerant, type of burn, etc - were different. They knew he had lit this one, so they took him to court for it - but they never could provide evidence against him for all those other fires. So that's why he only got 10 years originally - one case of arson. The sentence got reduced, even more so because he saved those people. Then he got out early because of good behaviour."

Lucy's mind had soaked up every bit of information throughout Levy's small lecture. Now she pursed her lips. There were still one to many puzzle pieces missing for her taste.

"Hm. Why would he burn a building and then rush inside to rescue people? Except, of course…" She trailed off. "Anyways. We should focus on the case at hand. I really think he's innocent this time."

Levy raised a slim brow. "How so?"

Biting her lip, Lucy gripped her glass tighter. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "I mean, there's nothing pointing us in his direction so far except Gray's suspicion, but it's not just that…"

"It's your instincts?"

She nodded. Levy knew her all too well, so her assumption was not only spot on, but had also been stated without a hint of disbelief or mockery. Lucy's instincts had never failed her yet.

"Yes," she admitted.

Her friend took a big sip of her unsweetened black coffee, and Lucy cringed inwardly. Not only did she not understand how one could consume such a beverage without an insane amount of sugar - or at all - but there also was the fact that the dark liquid the coffee machine in the office produced was probably wrung out of the souls of poor sinners who had been roasted for centuries in the deepest pits of hell, and could hardly be labeled as 'coffee' at all.

Instinctively taking a sip of her coke, Lucy finally washed away the bitter taste that had remained in her mouth. Now this was something one could actually drink. Refreshing and delicious.

"Well, you know I trust you," Levy spoke up after placing her cup back onto the desk. "And I'm sure you will catch th-"

She interrupted herself when her phone started buzzing impatiently, and Lucy detected a sudden dash of pink on her friend's cheeks. There was only one logical deduction to make. Only one person who could make Levy McGarden loose her cool.

"Duty calling?" Lucy asked cheekily, a demonic smile spreading across her face.

Levy almost smacked the phone off the table as another message flashed brightly on the screen.

"Y-yeah," she stuttered, well aware that Lucy knew exactly that 'duty' in this case often included unnecessarily long stays in the evidence room - with barricaded doors.

Had Levy known that at least half the department was aware of this fact too, she probably would have never set foot in the police station ever again.

But as it was, Levy suspected none of this, her usually so sharp mind clouded by the promise of who and what awaited her. By love, Lucy was most certain - even if her short friend vehemently denied it.

Gulping down the last bit of hell's brew, Levy jumped up. "Sorry, but I gotta go. It's, uh, it's urgent."

Lucy found herself wondering just what exactly Gajeel had sent her onto that phone of hers. On second thought, she really didn't want to know.

"But we'll see each other tomorrow! And keep me updated on the case, you'll do that, right?"

"Yes, Levy. Now run; don't waste time because of me."

Her grin had assumed alarming proportions; her eyes sparkling with so much mischief that Levy squeaked in embarassment. At this point, she was beet red.

"It's not–! I mean, we just– it's about business!"

For a second, the room fell silent - and then both women burst out laughing.

"See you tomorrow, Lu," Levy giggled as she pulled the door shut behind her.

Lucy lifted a hand in goodbye, the smile still sticking to her face.

"Yeah. And Levy - say hi to Gajeel from me."

Natsu slammed the door to his place shut behind him, almost worrying that he might have broken the upper hinge for good this time. A weird jar had sounded from the ruinous thing, and it still reverbrated through his small room.

Not like he cared much. There wasn't anything to steal around here.

As he kicked off his sneakers, the blonde detective from earlier resurfaced in his mind. He hadn't seen her again for the rest of the day, but they still had kept him in custody for as long as they could. Bastards. All of them. All of them except for her. She had seemed somewhat decent at least.

Still… With a self-pleased grin, he dug in his left pocket and pulled out a pen. And not just any pen: it was slender, expensive looking, with silver linings. Her pen.

With a devilish cackle, he imagined how she would have noticed its absence after a while, and how she'd have looked for it. Would she know it had been him? She'd seemed blissfully unaware.

His right hand moved back into his pocket, producing the little bussiness card she had left him with. He scanned it incuriously - as if he'd actually want to help the fucking police.

Yes, hello, the Salamander here. You put me in prison for seven years, so I thought now I'd help you solve crimes because you can't get it done on your own.

Natsu snorted.

He was just about to throw the little card into the bin when something caught his attention. Flipping it, he furrowed his brows as he read the small scribble on the backside.

Meet me at coda di fata, 7:30 ?

What the hell?

Did she want to go on a date with him?

Well, Natsu thought with a self-pleased smirk, even in sweatpants he was definitely still an eye-catcher. If the detective had a thing for bad boys, she could get what she desired.

It wasn't like he had anything else to do anyways.

His eyes trailed around the apartment, from the worn out matress on the ground to the small kitchenette where his lonely plate full of charred crumbs was sitting, looking rather forlorn between the two forks and single cutting knife he owned. The sun shone its setting rays through the curtain-less windows. Everything was quiet - too quiet for his taste.

Company would do him good.

He glanced at the clock. About two hours left. The restaurant's name sounded familiar, so it couldn't be too far. And picking out an outfit would be the least of his worries.

A grim smile took over his face as he pulled a clean shirt - one of three - out of a cardboard box.

Life after prison wasn't easy.

After finally finding a flat cheap enough for what little savings he had, he'd brought the cardboard boxes with his old belongings into his new 'home'. But the state of the place had only been the beginning of his problems.

He had soon found out that, if an ex-felon applied for any kind of work, his chances of being turned down were a solid for fucking sure.

So here he was, no job, no money. No family.

The last thought stabbed at his heart more than it should have. He hadn't had a family in years; this was nothing new to him. But even after his father's death, he had found comfort on the streets, had encountered people to share his life with in one way or another - some of which now filled his heart with sorrow and guilt. Before any memories could come rushing back, he shoved them away forcefully.

He was alone. And he probably deserved it. So he'd deal with it too.

Finally ridding himself off the shirt he had been wearing all day, the one he had quickly thrown on before he answered the resolute knock on his front door - the one that he had last worn seven years ago - he proceeded to drop it onto the back of the couch and carefully place the bussiness card on top.

He read her words once more and shook his head with a chuckle.

Then he walked to the bathroom. Showering wasn't something he looked forward to. Not because he did not like to clean himself, no, but because of the thing he had to face. His sworn enemy.

The shower head.

That little bastard just loved to play with him. Everytime the water had finally reached his favourite temperature, scalding hot lava, and he stepped under the water jet with a content sigh, the shower head would decide to immediately switch to the next ice age is upon us. Or stop working altogether. In the exact moment a mountain of shampoo was decorating his scalp.

In short - he hated his shower. But his shower hated him more.

As he stepped into the damned thing, flinching at the temperature, he let the water wash off the day's exhaustion. The heat soon loosened his muscles, and he held his face under the jet with a content groan.

But those pictures he had seen, those images of death and destruction, kept flashing before his mind's eye. They stirred some rather unpleasant memories of his. Natsu pressed his eyes shut tighter, pushing away the recollections of flames licking at his skin, of smoke and unimaginable agony. He could almost hear the desperate shouting ringing in his ears. And then - blackness.

With a start, he opened his eyes, blinded by the bare lightbulb that shone from the ceiling.

Those were not the kind of memories he needed today.

Why - after all these years - did they still come back to haunt him?

He wondered what had become of them - Erza and Jellal.

Last he had seen his two accomplices, there had been too much fire and blood for him to think straight.

And then they had taken him.

With a displeased grunt, Natsu decided to take his thoughts elsewhere. The past was not a good place to dwell. And especially not his.

As he picked up the shower gel and started rubbing it onto his skin, his mind couldn't help but wander to where it had taken him all day: The blonde detective.

He wasn't even sure if he remembered her name - Luigi? Luisa? - but her face had burned itself into his mind, deeply ingrained like the scars on his back.

She hadn't led a life like his.

The corners of his mouth twitched as he imagined what kind of sheltered life she must have lived. He thought of white picket fences, of large gardens and laughing families - the ones you always saw in advertisements, where the kids ran in slow motion and nothing bad ever happened.

He almost laughed out loud, as he stood there covered in bubbles.

He'd always taken himself to be quite knowledgeable about human nature. Books never interested him, but he was smart in his own way. Streetsmart, some would probably say.

Which was why the idea of a perfect childhood didn't sit right with him.

There had been something about her, maybe the way she had held herself a little too stiff at the table, sitting as upright as a stick, that had reminded him of a trained bird in a cage. Maybe she had built it for herself. He guessed being a woman in a job like hers wasn't always easy. But maybe it had been built around her.

She had struck him as someone who was trying to break out.

Maybe that was what she was doing in that profession of hers. The detective had seemed in her element; like this was where she was at peace.

She had seemed so calm and collected. But still, always this restrain. This mask of professionalism. He wanted to see beneath it.

Maybe that was why he was going to see her.

He had caught the fire in her eyes, if only fleeting and unsteady.

He suddenly found himself wondering what she was like when no job or false duty was holding her back; when she was herself.

He found himself wondering how her controlled voice would sound if he had his way with her.

Natsu rapidly blinked at the wall. When had he become such a pervert?

Maybe seven years of prison did that to a person. He'd never gotten a chance to experience what all those other people had. They had grown up, had gotten on with their lives, living and loving - while he sat behind bars.

All he had done during those years was work - chores and sports and, well, nothing much else, really. But at least now he had broad shoulders.

Natsu groaned, rubbing his hands over his face.

Life sure sucked sometimes.

And now he couldn't get her eyes out of his head. Stupid hormones. But something about them - about her - had captivated him. He wasn't exactly sure what it was - but it was not just her looks.

There were plenty pretty girls around. He had never cared much when he was young, and he had never cared much now. But something was different with her.

Those eyes had allowed him right in.

While he was not a naturally suspicious person, his trust was not easily earned. Not anymore. But he trusted her. Right from the bat. And it concerned him.

xxx

What concerned him even more was the way his muscles contracted in his stomach when he thought of her, creating a familiar pull. The image of her chest rising flashed in his mind, of those ample, inviting breasts. His jaw clenched.

Was he really about to do this?

But it was to late to ask such a question.

His breath hitched as his shouders bumped against the cool tiles of the shower, the shock momentarily disrupting the journey of his hand. Then he let his head drop back against the wall, allowing his fingers to reach their final destination.

The shower had not yet betrayed him, covering him in droplets that rolled over his muscles and formed small streams on their way down. Everything was hot.

Soon, he was panting.

He saw her in his mind's eye, eyes darkened as she stared up at him through thick lashes. The water drenched her hair, making it appear almost brown. Her hands travelled over his abdomen, and lower, and lower still, as she whispered hot breathy words against his throat.

Everything was so hot.

"Natsu Dragneel…" Her voice echoed in his mind, but the tone had changed.

He groaned, gasping for breath. He was so very close.

If only he could bend her over, push her against these slippery tiles and fuck that reserve out of her until she knew nothing but his name, over and over until-

Natsu bent forward as his mind stopped working, mouth opened in a silent cry.

And along with his mind, the shower stopped too.

xxx

He did not notice until he opened his eyes and his senses returned to him from somewhere far away, finding his body suddenly spent and heavy.

"Oh come on," he hissed. "Not now!"

He stood there a moment longer, rather at a loss. His anger was seething, but the shower, of course, did not care.

With a low growl and a glare up at the shower head, he was about to retreat for the day - this battle had yet again been won by the enemy.

But before he could do so much as get out of the way, the shower sputtered and hissed - and a strong jet of water hit him right in the face.

As cold as ice.

"For fuck's sake!"