Disclaimer: Buffy was created by Joss Whedon, Law & Order by Dick Wolf, and the storyline by me.

X X X X X

In the break room of Paul Browne's Auto Repair, Jenny Brandt was taking her lunch. It had been a good day so far; one oil change, and she'd helped replace the brake system on an old Geo Tracker. She enjoyed this -- putting things together, taking them apart. She should probably thank her shop teacher from juvie -- what was his name again?

No matter. Almost feeling gratitude for the man probably was going to save his life.

The TV was on, and it was going from The Price Is Right to the local news.

"And in our top story today," the smug-looking anchorman said, "New York City Police held a press conference today on the latest serial killer to menace the city -- and this one's female." Her coworker, Jose, the only other one in the break room with her, leaned forward to turn up the volume. If he hadn't, she would have.

They cut to a shot of a middle-aged woman holding up a sketch -- the caption read, Lt. Anita Van Buren -- and the screen split, showing the sketch.

It looked liked her. Not exactly like her, not enough to be her relative, but enough that she needed to start being careful.

". . . men," Lt. Van Buren said. "She was also seen wearing a dark-colored uniform -- possibly blue." She still had her other uniform in her locker. She needed to throw it out as soon as possible -- and she'd need to take a roundabout way of getting there. She owned both her uniforms; part of the cost of joining the shop. The one she had on, she'd need to be careful about. No more wearing it during attacks.

"Looks a little like you, Jenny," Jose said. "'specially with that uniform."

Forcing a laugh, Jenny said, "Yeah. You'd better watch out, or you might be next." Jose would be last, of all the men working here. He didn't think of her as being a woman. That bought him a little bit of consideration.

Jose laughed, Just like she'd intended.

Another woman, this one younger, said, "She seems to call herself the Slayer."

Not the Slayer; a Slayer.

But what did you expect from local news?

She threw her soda can in the trash and headed to the locker to get her spare uniform. The time to toss it was now.

X X X X X

Kennedy came back mid-morning, having gotten in a fight with a couple of random demons in an abandoned building a few blocks from the hotel and seeming none the worse for wear. Buffy'd volunteered to leave, but Kennedy told her not to bother. She sat down next to Willow and the two began a brief, intense conversation, which ended in a hug, a kiss, and Willow getting back to work while Kennedy headed to the shower to clean off.

So Buffy kept keeping Willow company while she researched -- okay, Buffy was mostly watching TV, but she had answered a few serious questions.

And, honestly, she wasn't really watching TV so much as using reruns of Dharma & Greg as a backdrop for her own thoughts. What could Jenny have done? Could she have committed a crime? Been in a mental hospital? Attended Hogwarts? (Okay, the last one she didn't really believe.)

Speculation, yeah, but it was all she could do -- that, and hope they didn't have another Dana on their hands. (Dana was better than she'd been, but she would never really be okay. She hadn't severely injured anyone in at least three months, though, and Buffy supposed that was improvement.)

Willow had gotten Giles to get someone to send her electronic copies of a handful of spell books -- "Text only," she'd stressed, as though anyone to this day had forgotten Malcolm, er, Moloch -- and was researching more thoroughly the effects and auras of the tracking spell they'd been using.

After an hour or so of no conversation -- the last half of which she'd spent with Kennedy witting next to her -- the boredom was starting to get to her.

So Buffy tired to get Willow's attention, and after a couple of attempts, eventually caught it and said "Do you need me for anything else?"

"Huh? No, you've done what you can. I've got the spell and then some hacking."

"Okay. I'm going to go do some investigating on my own. Kennedy, wanna come with?"

A bit startled, Kennedy said, "Willow? Do you need me?"

"Quite often," was Willow's reply. "But not right this second. Go with Buffy if you want."

They left, heading for Paul Browne's Auto Repair. "So, why did you want me along?" Kennedy asked when they were almost there.

"Three reasons. One, you'd get as bored sitting around watching Willow as I would. Two, a fresh mind never hurts, and you've never met Jenny. Maybe you'll see something we missed. Three, two Slayers are better than one."

They got maybe half a block away from the shop when Buffy held out a hand to stop Kennedy. "There she is." Jenny was leaving the shop, carrying something under her arm.

"Want to ask questions or see where she goes?" Kennedy asked.

"What is this, Buffy Summers, PI? We talk to her coworkers, they'll tell her, and she'll get suspicious."

"And she won't get suspicious if she sees us tailing her?"

"I have a plan for that."

"Really?" Kennedy asked skeptically.

"Yes. Really. We'll say we're testing her out. She's new to the Slayer gig; how will she know we're lying?" Jenny was zooming along, now, and Buffy and Kennedy had to speed up to make sure they kept pace. The streets were crowded, but not horrendously so, so it wasn't too difficult keeping sight of her.

Then she rounded the corner into an alley. "Okay. Here's where it gets tricky," Buffy said. By the time they got to the end of the alley, Jenny was just finishing tossing something into a dumpster, and whatever she was carrying was nowhere to be seen.

"That's odd," Buffy said.

"Obviously she wanted whatever it was to stay hidden."

"Yeah, but why?" Jenny had made it to the far end of the alley now and had disappeared out of sight.

Kennedy asked, "Are we going to follow her?"

"Right now, I'd like to know what she thought was so important she had to dump it." They reached the dumpster. "Boost me over the edge." The dumpster was taller than she was, and while she could have easily jumped into it, no way was she going to do that unless she had to – and certainly not without seeing what she'd be landing on.

Kennedy effortlessly lifted her so she could peer over the edge. "A little more –" she said, and reached down and picked up what seemed to be one of Jenny's spare work uniforms. Stained and dirty, yeah, but not so bad it needed to be tossed. "Get me down."

"What the hell?" Kennedy asked.

"My thoughts exactly," Buffy replied, looking at the uniform.

"Buffy," Kennedy said. "Look." She turned the uniform so they could both see the side Kennedy was seeing, and Kennedy pointed to several spots on the top of the uniform that didn't quite match the grease and other automotive fluid stains. "That's blood."

"Probably. Let's get away from the dumpster so we can tell a little better." When they got to the far end of the alley – Jenny was long gone by this point – Buffy and then Kennedy took a whiff of it. No, Slayers weren't vampires, but their senses were somewhat heightened, and Buffy had been around blood for years, certainly long enough to recognize it by the smell, even with all those other automotive fluids there as well.

It was blood, all right. "It could be hers, I suppose," Buffy said doubtfully. "She does work at a place where it wouldn't be that hard to get injured."

"You don't believe that," Kennedy said.

Buffy sighed. "No. I don't. But there's only one way we have to find out."

They headed back to the hotel.

X X X X X

Cassady, Green, Van Buren and Huang talked for a bit after the press conference. Green knew those things exhausted the lieutenant; she never liked talking to the press.

Huang spoke first. "I've found a pattern. It was Detective Green who pointed it out – the killer's victims are getting more and more physically fit."

"She doesn't have much more physically fit to go, unless she starts taking on pro wrestlers," Van Buren said. "Mr. Nixon was pretty solid."

"I know. And that has me concerned," Huang said. "Even if she finds someone else, it's likely that her need to prove herself will lead her to find even

"How do you find a more severe challenge than someone muscular as Nixon was?" Cassady asked.

"A muscleman with martial arts training."

"Two musclemen," Green said.

Huang nodded. "Quite possibly. Or someone even more dangerous. Someone armed."

"At this point, I'm not so sure that would be a bad thing," Cassady said.

"I understand the sentiment," Van Buren said. "Don't voice it again, understood?"

"Understood," Cassady said.

"I certainly wouldn't rely on one of her victims stopping her. Not with what we've seen so far. Also," Huang added, "somewhere inside her there is quite possibly an intense hatred for men – since being male seems to be the only thing specifically connecting her victims. Be very careful of this, should you ever have to approach her."

"Thank you, Doctor," Van Buren said.

"You're quite welcome," the psychiatrist responded. "If I could take these files with me, I'll see if I can come up with anything else." He left the discussion.

"I'm assuming you two haven't come up with anything else?" Van Buren asked

"We worked the connection angle for a bit and talked to forensics and Rodgers," Green said. "No luck on the connections, still. If any of these four knew each other, no one in any of their lives knows about it."

"I think we've covered that base thoroughly enough," Van Buren said. "And the physical side of things?"

"Rodgers pretty much confirmed for this vic what she confirmed for the other one," Green said. "Beaten to death by someone with small hands and feet. She broke his nose and his jaw before finishing him off by snapping his neck. By the end of it he couldn't have fought back if he'd wanted to."

"The spatter was all the victim's blood, too. Maybe the killer got some on her clothes, but we'd need to find them to be sure," Cassady said.

"I have a possible lead. Actually, Jack McCoy brought it to me."

"McCoy?" Green asked.

"Yeah. He thinks he recognized the sketch of our killer."

Cassady snorted. "Him and half of Manhattan."

"True. But it's at least worth a look. Ed, you might remember this one. Jenny Brandt."

Green took a copy of the sketch from his desk, looked at for maybe half a minute, and said, "Right. I can see that."

"Jenny Brandt?" Cassady asked.

"Child killer," Green said. "Little psychopath murdered a little boy and got away with it because her mother and Olivet convinced some family court judge that she was too young to understand her actions. This from a girl who'd killed a cat and thought it was cool. She knew damn well what she was doing. She certainly had an intense dislike for men of all sorts, so it fits Huang's profile." To Van Buren, he said, "I don't suppose he brought any evidence?"

"Nothing but his instinct, which is good enough for me to at least have you investigate her," the lieutenant said. "He was more agitated than I've seen him in a long while. Jack can be passionate, but you know how it sticks in his craw, something like this."

"Yeah. I do." After a second, Green said, "Did he have any idea where we could find her?"

"No, but you can't expect him to do your entire job for you," Van Buren said. "Try the phone book."

X X X X X

People were looking for her, now. Or at least someone who looked like her.

Made this more of a challenge.

Cool.