Warning: This will contain Sergeant Doakes. This will also contain slash.

"Dammit!" Miller slammed the phone against the buttons almost making the phone useless. How the fuck could he hang up? How the fuck could he just leave him like this? In a shitty phone box, on a lone street that became more dangerous as the darkness slithered over it. He had to go and see him, talk him round. This could be over, it never was. They'd argue, put a curse on each other and within two days tops, his cell would vibrate and it was back to business. He charged out of the booth, and took a bus back into town. He usually never actually took buses. Not when he always had a chaffeur driven car, he always viewed public transport as a useage for ghetto gruesomes and trailer trash, but at this point in time, he couldn't exactly be picky. Luckily not many people were on it, but he could feel people's eyes on him. He really should have cut back on the smokes, they weren't soothing his paranoia.

It came to his stop and he practically rushed out the doors, up the street turning left and then straight ahead until he reached his place. He ended up knocking a little too loud, the neighbour's curtains fluttered, and he just hoped that he wouldn't play games and make him wait, but he'd wait all night if he had to. The door opened with a weary creak. He clenched his hand into a fist and nudged it open. Going straight upstairs like he did most of the time anyway. The stench of burning incense floated towards his nostrils, but he turned away, rejecting the apparent chance for relaxation. Gray followed him up, knowing they'd have to keep it down, the neighbours were nosey enough already.

"Pulling the same old shit on me again Gray?" Miller asked, as he sat on the bare mattress next to the desk. Grey pulled the computer chair up and avoided looking at him. "This isn't really about you, OK?They're charging me" A sensitive look may have done the trick, but Miller was too wary, the bastard should have just picked him up. "You got money" Miller said enviously. "Do what you usually do" Gray swirled around in the chair and resisted the urge to kick the young man in the face. "I'm not talking about the police dick-wad, I'm talking about the opposition" Miller shook his head and lay on the mattress, in soggy trainers, sweaty, filthy and breathing heavily.

"That's why you called big guy? Old man?" Miller added, knowing that Gray hated being called that. "I can get you the right things, transport, everything" He told him, not sure how he was going to put this plan together, but it had to work, there were no two ways about it. Miller looked at him before taking his trainers off. It wasn't conventional PR work, but as long as it kept Gray off his ass, then he wouldn't get off the rollercoaster, not until he was paid in full. "So kid, what do ya say?" Grey asked, hoping Miller wouldn't get rookie rage under the pressure. "I'll have to sleep on it" Miller lied. "Turn the light off on your way out"

"Breathe" the picture perfect skin warned. "That's all you have to do" It had been a while, but the dark passenger was far from rusty. It wanted to start slicing and spilcing like a new chef clocked by a stopwatch, but they couldn't, not while working. For a perp that tried not to make a mess, it was actually a little frustrating for the dark passenger. Police officers had to walk around the skirting boards as it looked like the killer had taken a salt and pepper shaker and sprinkled this guy's life petrol across the room, and the furniture. The victim had been hit with blunt force with a heavy object, the victim's face was bad on a superficial level, but the dark passenger knew that this wild stranger ally wanted to go further, maybe he was disturbed...

"Morgan, get up the stairs for crime scene two" The sergeant ordered. "Good morning to you too" Dexter said with the dark passener pulling his strings to reveal a pleasant painful smile. "Good ain't the word when you're around" the Sergeant said, as he followed him up the stairs to see a woman with neat blonde extensions face down on the bed. It didn't take a genius to figure out that this girl, woman, female, had had a rougher time than the guy downstairs. The quilt was dripping in blood and the dark passenger guessed it had seeped right through the mattress. Her nightdress was open from the back and there were blood droplets on her skin from where the killer had opened it, but it didn't make sense. He walked closer to her as forensics gently turned her over to get a look at the injuries to her face. Deborah walked up to the dark passenger's side. Don't look Dexter" She warned. "Dex I mean it, she's not a fucking beauty queen anymore" Dexter performed a shaky gulp and his eyes tried to reach the floor, but the dark passenger couldn't help itself. Bloodied blondes with no life expectancy were a bonus, it was looking forward for some alone time, but with respectable officers on the scene it couldn't be possible. Photo's were taken and a briefing was held, but the MO, was as messy as the crime scene itself.

"There are going to be profilers coming in this afternoon" LaGuerta told everyone, the dark passenger rocked to sleep by the sound of her voice. "I'll get some news on the vic's job, see if he did anything on the side" "Or who did his girl on the side" Vince chipped in. "That is the epitome of a passion crime...Morgan, I'd like to think that when I find that special someone, you'll unleash the crazyiness, it would be a sexy kinda flattery" Masuka said, looking at Deborah. "When you find that special someone, he'll probably be twice my age" Deborah said with a smirk. "Keep me updated, all of you" LaGuerta said, as she stopped herself from biting her lip. The dark passenger wanted to follow her, but Dexter reigned the bad dog in. "So?" his sister asked. "What the fuck was going on with those blood-drops?" She asked, looking at her brother because she didn't want to hand Masuka a dirty thought on a platter.

"Yeah, what the fuck was that shit?" Sergeant Doakes asked. "Possible cult?" Angel Suggested. "Could check the net, see if the blood can tie in with that" Vince offered. "Right, so the perp goes after the guy first, gets caught by the girl, she runs like fuck up the stairs and he gets her" The Sergeant stated. "We'll ask about defensive wounds" Deborah said to no-one inparticular. "Could ask LaGuerta about a rape-kit" Angel said sheepishly. "He got the guy, heard something upstairs, failed to charm her, so..." "Why risk it?" The Sergeant asked. "Perps have done alot more for a lot less" Angel said. "Fuck yeah, but a whole family could have been up there, that twisted fuck may not have known" "Unless he cased the place first" Angle said. "But look at how fucking frenzied it was" His sister said, and the dark passenger began to drift away. It didn't know the how's, the who's, and the why's but the female vic was definately sleeping at the time of the crime in the dark passenger's gut. If they were right, there would have been no reason to destroy her, not in that fashion. So if she wasn't a threat, who really was?

"Miller"

"Grey-baby"

"What the FUCK?...The woman too?"

"The cheap fake dick slit that he kept as a pet? Why the fuck not?" Miller asked beaming.

Mill, what are you trying to do to me? ONE was enough, I mean no witnesses, I get that, but..." Miller leaned forward and cupped his palms on both of Grey's knees. It usually calmed him down, but not tonight. He'd probably have to get him drunk.

"Look at me Grey. She came sniffing down the stairs barking away. I didn't want to...but that diseased bitch had to be put to sleep"