Natasha Bellmont watched with a smirk on her face as Fred Jones re-emerged from the crime scene. He looked troubled, but then again, he always looked troubled. His powerful figure began to stride across the road towards her and her camera crew, a stern look on his face. It was that look that made her want him so much; that look which seemed to be a cross between determination and angst. And she liked it; a lot. It wasn't that she loved him, no; she didn't use the word love very often. She had very lustful thoughts about him every time he was near. All she wanted to do was to grab him by the collar of his trench coat and kiss him. But his job and his girl always got in the way. Daphne Ann Blake; the name sounded in her mind as her smirk became more like a scowl. She could tell that the poor girl was head over heels in love with the man, even if Daphne herself didn't realise it. And on some level she knew that he loved her too, and that Daphne meant more to him than any woman he would ever meet. That's what made her so angry.

Fred smiled as he approached Natasha, dodging a police squad car which was driving past as he came to a stop in front of her.

"Hey," she smiled, getting up from the fold out chair she had been sitting in. She took a few steps forwards until she was almost touching him, which surprised Fred. But he shook it off, his face becoming serious once more.

"I'm gonna need you to leave," he said, gesturing to her camera crew who were working behind her. Natasha faked a sigh, pursing her lips and placing on finger on his torso, gently stroking the fabric of his coat.

"Alright, but on one condition," she replied. His frown worsened.

"I'm not giving you a choice," he almost growled, his voice deep and gravely like Daphne had said. Natasha smirked, enjoying the way he reacted to her teasing.

"I know, I know. But how about this..." she waited until she was sure he was listening.

"I'll leave, and get the other TV crews to leave too if..." she began, and he raised an eyebrow.

"If?"

"...if you take me on a date sometime," she finished, her eyes dancing as she watched his demeanour change from stern and scary to flustered and stuttering.

"W-well, I don't know. I mean, I've got this case to handle and Daphne probably wouldn't want..."

"Is Daphne your girlfriend?" she interrupted him, making him frown again.

"What? No, she's not my girlfriend, what would make you think that?"

"So you will take me on a date?" she repeated, and he blinked. This woman had confused him beyond imagination, and yet he still found himself wanting to accept her offer.

"Alright. I'll take you on a date sometime. But I'll be very busy the next few weeks," he agreed, and she smiled seductively.

"I'll look forward to it," and with that she reached up and planted a soft kiss on his lips. It happened so fast that he didn't even have time to close his eyes before she pulled away again. Fred stood dumbfounded as Natasha began to clear up her equipment, turning to him one last time before she walked away.

"See you soon, tough guy,"

Daphne drummed her fingers on the table as she waited for Fred inside the station. Lauren's body had been moved to a room in the basement for closer examination, and now all they needed was for Fred to be there to continue the process.

Suddenly the door to the station was pushed open, and there he was. Walking in slowly, he smiled when he saw her leaning against the table.

"Hey, did the body get moved?" he asked, and she pushed herself up and off of the table, taking a few steps towards him.

"Yeah, they're downstairs waiting for you so that they can start. They're gonna..." she slowly stopped speaking as she noticed the faint red smudge on Fred's lips. Stepping a little closer, she placed one thumb on his bottom lip, examining it carefully.

"... Is that... lipstick?" she asked, and he blushed slightly.

"Well, yeah," he replied, and her disapproval was evident on her features.

"It's Natasha's; isn't it?" she said quietly, trying to contain her anger. He nodded slowly, wiping the remaining lipstick off with his sleeve.

"So what if it's Natasha's lipstick? Why do you care so much? It's not like you're my girlfriend," he replied, using Natasha's earlier remark against Daphne. Daphne paused for a second, and then she placed a hand on his forearm.

"I know I'm not your girlfriend, Freddie, but I care about you. I don't want to see you getting hurt," she explained, and he smiled softly.

"I know. And I won't; she was the one who kissed me!" he protested, making her smile despite the pangs of jealousy which shot through her.

"C'mon, we need to get down there and take a look at this body," she replied, changing the subject for her benefit. He nodded, going back into what she liked to call 'Batman Mode'.

"Right, let's go quickly," and with that they turned to the stairs that led to the basement and began to walk down them.

"Take off the sheet, Jimmy," Fred said, holding Daphne's hand gently. It had become a habit for him to hold her hand whenever they looked at bodies, as he knew that she didn't like looking at the various states of murder victims.

Daphne bit her lip as Jimmy carefully pulled the sheet off and placed it on a nearby counter, revealing the body of Lauren Graves. Her skin had gone a pale blue, but that wasn't what drew their attention the most. It was the trail of blood that started on Lauren's blouse and made its way up to where her ear should've been. Daphne closed her eyes and buried her face in Fred's shoulder, not wanting to see any more, whilst Fred frowned.

"Where's the ear?" he asked, and Jimmy shrugged.

"We don't know. But what we do know is that Lauren's body is in the exact same state as the other eleven victims," he explained, and Fred nodded.

"What about the carvings?" he questioned, and Jimmy reached over and rolled the sleeve of Lauren's blazer up.

"See for yourself," he said, and Fred leant down to examine the crudely cut carvings on Lauren's pale arm. In spidery lettering, it read 'CKS'. Fred frowned even more, standing up slowly.

"CKS..." he read aloud, scowling, "CKS? What does that even mean?" he shouted, making Daphne jump slightly. Fred turned away from the body, leaning on a nearby countertop; his breathing heavy.

"Just another load of shit which doesn't make any sense," he growled, leaving an awkward silence hanging over the room. Jimmy sighed and picked something up off of a table and handed it to Fred. Fred frowned, turning over the large ring-binder over in his hands a few times.

"What is it?"

"They're photographs of all the carvings found on each victim; maybe you can piece something together," Jimmy explained, and Fred smiled gently.

"I'll look at them later. First I want to see if I can visit anyone who can help us create a picture of what happened," he replied, glancing at Daphne. She nodded,

"Lauren had a boyfriend; I think his name was Darius. Maybe we should start there," she suggested, making Jimmy nod slowly.

"He'll probably want his car back too," he said, making them both turn in confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

"Lauren's car is still parked outside the station. Why she didn't use it, we don't know. You can go take a look if you want; here's the key," he explained, holding out a set of keys. Fred took them, clasping them in his hand before turning towards the stairs.

"We'll go check it out. Come with us, Jimmy. You'll probably know more about what happened than we do," he replied, smiling gently as Daphne walked up a few steps to join him. Jimmy followed, gesturing to the assistant police officers to cover up the body again.

"Alright; let's go."

When they pushed the door of the police station open and walked outside, they saw the car Jimmy had been talking about. Fred grabbed the keys between his fingers as they approached the car.

"Where's the key hole?" he asked, his eyes darting around as he searched the door.

"Doesn't have one," Jimmy said, and Fred turned to him with a 'You're kidding me' look, "It's true!" he protested, and Fred sighed. Daphne walked over, taking the keys from Fred.

"There's a button on here which should unlock it," she concluded, pressing it down. The car's indicators all flashed, and Fred went to try the handle. Pulling it, he found that it wouldn't open.

"The lock is broken. Jimmy, run and get me a crowbar," he ordered. Jimmy turned on his heel and sprinted back into the station, returning a few moments later with a steel crowbar. Fred took it from him, placing it in the door cavity and pulling with all his might.

After about forty seconds of continuous pulling, the car door popped open, causing the alarm to go off. Fred, starting to panic slightly due to the loud noise, slipped the key into the ignition and started the car. It revved into life, the alarm stopping its shrieking.

"Wait," Daphne said, and both men turned to her, "Do you think the reason Lauren's car is still here is because it was locked and she couldn't get in?" she pondered, and Fred nodded solemnly. Walking round to the front of the car, he noticed a noticeable scuff on the bumper.

"How'd this get here?" he questioned, and Jimmy knelt down beside him.

"I don't know; maybe she had hit something with the car or she kicked it," he replied, and Fred raised an eyebrow.

"What makes you think she kicked it?" he asked, and Jimmy shrugged.

"Well, maybe she got frustrated that her car wouldn't unlock and kicked the front bumper. Chances are she was wearing high heels of some kind, which would be hard enough to leave a mark," he explained his theory casually, and Fred grinned.

"You're good, Jimmy,"

"Why thank you. You're not too bad yourself,"