omg my bad, you guys! I totally forgot to update on time. So, so, sorry about that. Please enjoy this chapter! And I'll probably update again later today to make up for my incompetence...

Also, hope ya'll enjoy some side Gajevy!

chapter 12: hotspot

definition:

A particularly active part of a fire.

Old Precinct Goes Up In Flames! dotted every news headline for the next few days. Magnolia Publishing included various photographs of the evidence, showcasing what was left of the old police station downtown, not that there was much to show. It was mostly ash and half-burnt support beams.

But the pictures stirred quite the commotion, and everyone who was anyone had words to share on the subject.

Everyone except for Natsu, who hadn't called her, or spoken to her at all, since the night they'd torched the old precinct.

Lucy was worried.

More than worried, really; she was nearly perturbed because of Natsu's behavior that night. She'd been able to tell, despite his protests, that he was not in any way, shape, or form fine. He'd looked as though he'd seen a ghost, and he'd been so tense that she'd thought he might actually explode in her Mercedes.

She'd been able to calm him with a chaste kiss, but…she had a feeling that it hadn't produced a lasting effect.

Lucy's fingertips skimmed over her lips in memory.

There had been…something there, beneath the tense atmosphere and his pale face. She wasn't sure what, exactly, but it had been there. But, Lucy supposed that that wasn't her concern; her concern right now was Natsu. Specifically, his health and…mental stability.

That was why she was calling Levy first thing in the morning.

Her cat mug filled with hot chocolate, Lucy pressed her phone to her ear and waited out the droll of the dial tone. She was surprised that Levy didn't pick up after the first ring; the constable was always awake at the crack of dawn, the morning person that she was.

Just when the phone began to ring for the sixth time, and Lucy thought that she'd have to call back later, Levy answered with a flustered, "H-hello? Lu?" Her voice was husky and, at the same time, an embarrassed squeak.

A rustling noise came from the background, and Lucy's brows lifted when she heard a low, rough murmur that definitely didn't belong to her friend. "Why, Levy, do you have company?"

"What? No, of course not," Levy said on a forced laugh.

But, despite her claim, there came a displeased growl of, "Really? Ye're gonna stop fer a damn phone call? That's just cruel," that made Lucy's brows rise even higher. "Ouch, Shrimp, watch where ya put those feet, ya almost stomped on my – "

She recognized that voice very easily. "Is that so…" Lucy's smug grin was audible, as evidenced by Levy's spluttering.

There was more frantic rustling, as well as grumpy comments from Levy's company, and Levy stammered, "We're not… I mean, it's just…"

"Just business?" Lucy echoed.

Levy's mortified squawk nearly made Lucy burst out laughing. "Oh, hop off it, Lu! I don't tease you when you have guests over," the constable groaned, her petite face surely red all over–if it hadn't already been so before.

Lucy sipped her hot chocolate with a smile. "Yeah, well, I don't have guests that often. And I very rarely have sleepovers. Let me have my fun every once in a while," she giggled.

Levy grumbled something unintelligible as various other noises suggested she was heading to her kitchen. Probably to make herself a cup of coffee. "So," the caffeine-addict prompted after a few moments, "what do you need? I know you're not calling me at eight in the morning to chat about my…sleepovers."

"Well, I'm just a little…concerned about Natsu," admitted Lucy, her finger tracing around the rim of her cat mug.

"Concerned?" Levy repeated questioningly, the hum of her coffee-maker audible. "What are you concerned about, exactly? And are you calling because you want my opinion as a friend, or as a colleague?"

Perhaps one of the best things about Levy McGarden–besides her 'I Love My Garden' coffee mug–was that she was incredibly perceptual. Her skills usually lay in intelligence gathering, and because of that, she was one of the most knowledgeable people that Lucy knew. That, and her friend had an insatiable love for reading and had her own massive library at her house.

Talking with Levy about her problems, whether they were personal or work-related, always helped Lucy get back on track.

"A little bit of both, I think," Lucy answered honestly.

Natsu's mental health obviously affected the outcome of the mission, so of course she was worried about that professionally. But, her job aside, she was also worried about him on a personal level because she…cared.

"Hm, okay. Has he been acting strange lately?" Levy asked.

"Yeah," Lucy said with a nod that her friend couldn't see. "When we burned down the old precinct he was - " The detective stopped suddenly, cursing and nearly biting her lip. She hadn't explained the undercover operation to Levy at all, so now it was going to sound like she'd completely lost her mind and turned into an arsonist herself. "Ah…it's not like we didn't do that without reason, of course, um - "

Levy's laughter was like the tinkle of a bell, something almost otherworldly. "Don't worry, I already heard all about the undercover operation."

Lucy blinked, and then her surprise turned into a smirk. "Oh, you did, did you? And just who, I wonder, told you?" she mused teasingly, enjoying Levy's spluttering.

"I…I… Um…I heard through the grapevine," the constable eventually stuttered.

But, that was impossible, Lucy knew, since all undercover operations were kept under tight wraps. Rumors about this undercover arson gig wouldn't be flying around willy-nilly at the precinct, so Levy had to have heard it from someone higher up the chain of command.

And Lucy knew just who had spilled the beans.

But, she chose to spare her friend for now. "All right, fine," she conceded. "But, anyway, after we burned down the old precinct he was just…not himself."

"How so?" Levy hummed, the sound of her pouring coffee quite loud to Lucy, who wrinkled her nose.

She took another sip of her hot chocolate, a happy sigh slipping from her chest. "I thought he might faint or get sick or something."

She'd almost pulled the car over more than once.

"Explain in more detail, please."

A sudden clatter from Levy's end of the line made Lucy jump, very nearly spilling her hot chocolate. Following the loud noise was a series of hissed whispers, mostly consisting of Levy chiding her "guest" for nearly denting her good cookware and said "guest" poorly defending himself.

It seemed as though the two were having breakfast together.

Lucy coughed, hoping that it would draw the attention of her best friend. "He was pale, sweaty, and shaky, and it looked like he was a thousand miles away or lost in a day dream or something…" she murmured, recalling the glazed look in his eyes, his bunched jaw and tight shoulders. And the way his fingers kept flicking over the spark wheel of his lighter. "And he kept fiddling with his lighter," she added.

Even after a few days, the imagery was still fresh in her head.

"Hmm…was he unresponsive for a little while?" Levy asked, that pinched look surely on her little face. A small gasp burst from her directly afterwards, followed by a very distinct, "Hey, don't pinch my butt while I'm talking to Lucy."

"She can deal with it, 'sidering she interrupted us earlier," was the snarky reply.

Yep, Lucy thought with a half-grin, that was definitely Gajeel. Captain Surly Pants who was totally smitten with the Precinct Fairy–he was even making her breakfast, and Lucy was definitely going to share that with Gray later. No doubt he'd pee himself laughing.

"For a little while, yeah," Lucy started again. "I had to call his name a couple times before he came back." She'd said his name three times to be exact, and when she'd touched his arm, he'd felt hot even through the layer of his sweater. "He felt a bit feverish, too."

"And he was like that for a while?"

The sounds of frying foods started up in the background, signaling that Gajeel really was cooking.

Lucy's stomach gave a jealous growl–she'd been too worried to eat anything substantial for breakfast. "From just before we set the fire, to when I dropped him off at his house. Levy, he looked so sick in the car, I thought he was going to throw up." She could only thank the heavens that he hadn't.

Not for the sake of vanity–she couldn't care less about status of her car so long as it worked. She just would have panicked, and the last thing he would have needed was a panicky Lucy.

"Yeah, he might have held it off until he got home," Levy said with sympathy. "It sounds like," and here her tone turned proper and educational, "he was having a severe anxiety attack, I think. I can't be too sure, since they're different for everyone and I wasn't there to witness it, but that's what it sounds like to me."

An anxiety attack?

Lucy felt herself blanch and her hand curled around her cat mug.

Now that she thought about it logically, she did suppose that the symptoms matched. He'd looked like he'd been so close to breaking, had lashed out at her and then looked horrified at his own behavior. But, it also didn't make sense–because he was an ex-aronsit. Didn't he like setting fires?

"I don't understand," she admitted after a thoughtful pause. "I thought he would enjoy setting fires again. I mean, he's basically doing it while the police turn a blind eye–that has to be every arsonist's dream."

Levy made a sharp tsk-ing sound. "For some, arson is like an addiction. The adrenaline and power it brings can be like a drug… So for Natsu, who's spent seven years in prison and has basically turned his life around," she sighed, and Lucy imagined her slender shoulders shrugging, "setting fires is probably like shaking a bag of drugs in front of a junkie."

At the analogy, something cold spread in Lucy's chest.

"He was trying…to not fall back into the urges," she whispered aloud in realization. "Oh, my god…"

His hesitation earlier suddenly made so much more sense now–he hadn't wanted to become hooked on the adrenaline and the power. And yet, he'd agreed to the undercover operation anyway because she'd asked him to.

She'd done that to him.

Levy's sudden laughter made Lucy blink, the constable's harsh mutter of, "Gajeel, stop it," echoing on the line. Levy cleared her throat afterward and said in a professional voice, "Do you think he's mentally stable enough to continue the operation, then?"

Lucy wouldn't lie to herself. She wanted him to be stable enough–because he was basically their only shot at capturing Jackal. But…part of her doubted that he would be, which was where she was torn.

"I'm…not sure." Her voice was soft.

"I'd check up on him then, Lu," her friend said. "Make sure he's mentally sound enough to keep doing this. If not…" she trailed off ominously.

"Yeah, I'll have to pull the plug." Lucy grimaced–that would not go over well with her superiors, but Natsu's health was more important than their wasted money and resources. "Okay, thanks for your help, Levy."

Levy giggled–and Lucy couldn't tell if it was because her friend was genuinely giddy, or if it was due to a certain "guest" in her kitchen. "No problem. See you later!"

The constable was much too chipper and ended the phone call so quickly that Lucy felt a knowing smile form on her face. There was no doubt in her mind about the shenanigans that would take place in Levy's kitchen.

Her hot chocolate had gone cold, but she still sipped at it as she dialed another number.

There would be no rest for her today, it seemed.

XXX

Natsu didn't answer her call.

Lucy chose to chalk that up to the fact that he seemed to be a bit of a night owl and that it was still relatively early. She wanted to believe that he was still snoring in bed, hopefully feeling much better than he had been. But, knowing what she did now, Lucy wasn't quite sure what to believe.

So she called him again later that same day…and was met with the same conclusion.

His voicemail greeted her, the chipper voice of a boy who hadn't yet seen the true ugliness of the world he lived in, and she left a rather reluctant message. A simple, "Hey, call me when you get this," that she knew he would probably ignore too.

And she was right.

By the time night fell, he hadn't called her back once, and they were supposed to set fire to the row of brownstones. A part of her hoped that maybe he'd just bail on her, take a few personal health days, but a familiar, hard knock sounded at her front door at close to 10:30.

Lucy answered the door with a scowl, dressed in the same outfit she'd worn just a few nights before, prepared to give him what for. How dare he ignore her calls like that, make her worry for his poorly-strung-together sanity. But, at the passive and exhausted look on his face…she held her tongue.

Natsu was still pale and there were dark circles under his eyes.

To be frank, he looked like shit.

Lucy's teeth pushed into her bottom lip as she took his appearance in. He was dressed for arson; black boots, cargos, and turtle-neck sweater. He was prepared to go through this again.

But…at what cost?

"Are you…okay?" she asked hesitantly.

Natsu's pink head fell to the side as he ruffled his hair. He tried to grin at her, but it lacked its usual radiance and fell flat like his voice. "I'm good to go, Lucy."

He was lying to her, she knew.

She should have called off the operation then and there. But, the detective part of her whispered, Just see if he can handle it, just try it… And Lucy didn't want to listen to it, tried to block it, but the fact remained that so much hinged on Natsu's participation. No matter her personal feelings, this was her job and she had to do it.

If she saw with her own eyes that he was jeopardizing the operation, she'd end it.

So she nodded at him and grabbed her car keys before heading off for the brownstones in her Mercedes Benz.

Natsu closed his eyes for the whole ride, his arm clutching at his stomach, and Lucy had to wonder if maybe he just got carsick. He managed to tough it out, whatever the case, and even seemed somewhat normal when he climbed out of the vehicle after she parked it at the curb.

He sucked in deep breaths of the humid air, his eyes still closed. And he stood like that for a while, his face lifted to the night sky and his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his cargos as he inhaled slowly. It was almost like he was…meditating.

Nearly five minutes later, his eyes flashed open.

"Okay," he muttered, "let's do this."

His turtle neck was pulled over over his mouth and nose, and he stalked through the dirty streets with a purpose. The way that he carried himself suggested that his confidence had returned for the moment, but Lucy could still see the tense line of his shoulders as she followed silently behind him.

They snuck around to the back of the building and located the fuse box, just like last time. And just like last time, Lucy provided the light as Natsu stripped the wires with his clippers and his teeth and doused them in accelerant.

When he fished out his lighter this time, every muscle in his body was taut. He was straining, even though he stood perfectly still, and his shaky hands flipped open the top of the lighter.

Lucy didn't wait this time–she calmly reached over and placed her hand over top of his.

Natsu startled at the contact, his gruff hand warm under hers, and gradually…that hand began to steady. His fingers gripped the lighter firmly, his thumb catching on the spark wheel. And out of the corner of her eyes, Lucy saw his grateful smile.

"Thanks," he whispered, a bare breath on the summer night wind, as he ignited the spark and doomed the brownstones to destruction.

He still couldn't watch the flames as they made slow work of the buildings, choosing to turn his back on the bright red show behind him. But at least his pace was easier, his shoulders not as tense, and when he climbed inside her car, he didn't rip his shirt off and slump in the passenger seat.

Though, Lucy wouldn't have minded even if he did decide to do that again.

On their way back to his own brownstone house, she came to the conclusion that yes, he got car sick quite easily. But, he refrained from puking in her car and for that she was grateful.

This time, when she came to a stop in front of his house, he didn't jump out of the car. No, he slid out and shut the door softly, as though he were utterly calm, and then he meandered over to the driver's side.

Lucy held her breath as she watched him, her hands tight on the steering wheel.

Natsu leaned into the window. His tan hand reached inside to slide over her cheek, tuck a lock of hair behind her ears, and cup her jaw in the most tender of ways. "Thank you," he murmured again, bending over to press his lips to her forehead. "And sorry for not calling back," he whispered the apology against her skin as though it were a prayer for forgiveness.

It was a little while before she found her voice. And even then, it cracked with stunned amazement. "It's…okay," she told him as he pulled back. "Just…don't make me worry for so long next time. At least call me or something."

She was aware of what she sounded like. Like a real girlfriend or something.

But Natsu only smiled at her and propped his knuckles under her chin. "Will do. G'night, Lucy."

And before she could say anything else, he jogged around to his front door and disappeared inside his house.

Methinks they're getting closer, no? Stay tuned!

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