Crime scene, Sunset Strip, Los Angeles

"What's this guy's name?" Sam asked the police chief as dean examined the latest body.

"Victor Manslo," she replied, "forty-eight, town drunk, every one knew him. He was seen in every bar along this strip at least once before he died last night."

"And there is nothing else you can tell us besides two holes in the neck?" Ashley's turn to question.

The chief sighed, "that's it I'm afraid. I cant think of a single person around here who would have had it out for victor, no toxicology report, autopsy's all came back clean, no sign of sexual assault. We hit a dead end, hopefully you guys can shed some light."

A car pulled up at the end of the ally and the chief excused herself to take a call, leaving the three to their work. Leaning down beside dean Ashley eyed the wound on his neck. "What do you think? Vamp?"

"Definitely," dean relied, "there is no other monster I know of that could completely drain a body of blood, and nothing that would eat so much in so little time."

"So it's exactly what we thought." She looked to dean as she rolled her eyes in frustration.

Confirming her thought he simply said, "Newborn."

The two got up from their spots on the ground. Just as Ashley turned her eyes widened when she realized just who their new visitors had turned out to be.

"Feds."

"Well that's what they think we are," Sam said as he joined them.

"No, real feds." She gestured down the ally towards the two men flashing their badges to one of the officers, "they just showed, look."

"Oh crap." Dean's eyes widened, "the only way out is past them, that could be a problem especially now that they are flashing their badges around."

"Don't worry I got this," the two boys looked to her confused, "I'll distract them while you guys get to the car, pull it around and I'll hop in."

Sam looked to her with one brow raised, "And how exactly are you going to distract them?"

A mischievous grin spread across her face as she answered, "I have a plan."

With one last look Ashley set off first, the boys shortly after. On her way down the ally she managed to ditch her blazer in a dumpster, stole the CSI's kit and his jacket while he had his back turned, put it on, and walked over to the two agents.

With confidence and a bright, fake, smile painted on her face she caught them before they could reach the chief. Shaking the older ones hand she introduced herself, "hi, I'm CSI Nicks."

Taking her hand the older agent replied, "I'm agent Hotchner, this is supervisory special agent Derek Morgan."

"Nice to meet you," Derek said as he shook her hand, "what can you tell us about the scene?"

She had to hold back her glee. This was what Ashley lived for, the thrill of being a hunter. Thinking on your feet, improvising, this was her moment to shine.

She watched as Sam and Dean snuck past her left and under the caution tape, then with the smallest hint of a grin began bullshitting her way out of this mess. "Well I'm sure I can't tell you much of anything you don't already know. The vic has two puncture wounds on the right side of his neck, same as the other five. No blood for a toxicology report, and no other evidence was found. Sorry boys."

"Sorry boys?" Derek looked to her in disbelief as he took his sunglasses off, "We got six victims in less then two days, not an ounce of blood in any of them, no evidence and all you got is sorry boys? What are your men doing anyways? You're just going to give up looking, that's it?"

It was amazing how fast Ashley's mood changed from cheery to sour with Derek's words. If he thought he was going to get anywhere by treating her like that he had another thing coming.

With one step forward she placed herself just a few inches from Derek's face as she said in a threatening lower tone, "Well first off my men…are working eighteen hour shifts to try and find anything we can to help you catch this guy, to make it easier for you. So you could say we are doing all the leg work…thanks for showing up." From the stunned look on his face she knew she had him on the ropes so she kept it up, seeing just how far she could push him, "Second, when there is no evidence presented at the scene there is nothing we can collect or analyze, so I'm terribly sorry if that means you have to do a little bit more work then usual. Gotta work for that nice pay sometimes right? And third," this time she stepped even closer, as close as she could without touching him, "if you think you are going to get anywhere with me with that attitude you've got another thing coming agent, cuz I'll tell you right now I will not tolerate it. So cut the attitude, drop the stupid look on your face, and talk to me like a human being, not some animal you can boss around. Then maybe we can get along."

It took a second for Morgan to regain his footing. In all his years at the BAU he had never had anyone talk back to him like that before. Once he finally snapped out of his daze he managed to ask one last question, "Can you at least tell us when the autopsy will be completed?"

She took a step back, leaving Derek's personal space, as she answered, "I'm not at liberty to say."

"Not at…" Morgan looked to her in shock. She could tell he was about to say something but she beat him to the chase before he could.

Raising one hand to him she gave him a stern look of warning, "Agent Morgan, I already told you I will have none of your attitude, in fact, if it keeps up I'll personally make sure that any information my coroner has, or will have after the autopsy, will be withheld from you and your team."

"You can't-"

"Just you watch me Derek Morgan," she cut him off again, "but I will tell you that once any next of kin Mr. Manslo may have are notified of his death, if I so choose to do so, your team will be notified of the autopsy date. Until then I have no further information for you nor do I have any interest in sharing air with you any longer."

One again she faked the kindest, brightest smile she could as she said, "Nice meeting you boys," and left, walking between them and under the tape.

"Can you believe her?" Derek turned to Hotch with his arms crossed, clearly furious.

"Well she sure got the better of you if that's what you mean," he flashed a small smile at Derek, "I don't think I have ever seen you speechless before."

Derek raised a hand, about to argue his point but was stopped when the chief finally approached them. "Gentlemen, can I help you?"

Both agents flashed their badges to the chief and Derek excused himself to examine the scene.

"Feds?" She questioned, "We already got some of your guys here, they sent more of you?"

Hotch turned, looking back to the fiery girl who had just left them, he watched as she left the kit and the jacket she previously had behind one of the CSI's mobile units and hopped into the impala.

Turning back he was met with the waiting eyes of the chief. Answering, he said, "Yes…Our sections chief was concerned that with the body count increasing as quickly as it has they might need more help."

She closed her eyes in defeat, sighing as she gestured behind her to the crime scene, "Well, they are back there but if you'll excuse me…"

They left each other and Hotch walked over to find Morgan chatting casually with one of the CSI's on scene. Once the CSI left Morgan came over to Hotch, his stride a little slower as he stared forwards completely confused.

"Hey Hotch," he began, "I was just talking to that CSI over there about their CSI Nicks…they don't even have a CSI Nicks! What the hells goin on here, Hotch? Do you think she had something to do with this?"

"I don't know." Hotch made his way over to the victim and knelt down for a closer look, "We don't have much time before he no doubt kills again. Let's do what we can here then head back to the station, leave her to me."