-September 1, 4:40 P.M.-

'Nothing…nothing….nothing!'

Garcia couldn't believe it. She hadn't found a thing about the Phantomhive family she hadn't already found: press stories on the company and family, photos of the head honcho himself in their company's employee newsletter, 'But nothing juicy!'

She sighed as she leaned back in her chair. She had spent the last half hour scouring through databases at Reid's request. Garcia hadn't even found any of the new information Reid and Rossi had gotten at the Funtom Headquarters. "They probably have all their records tucked away in the library of their family estate like in the movies," she half-mumbled to herself. A beep from her computer dragged her out of her depressed thoughts.

Before she could lift a finger, a window popped open on her screen. She blinked, rubbed her eyes, and looked at the computer screen again. This made no sense.

Garcia sent the photo and information to the conference room and walked out in a rush to rally her team.


The strangest thing had just happened to the team's unit chief. He had suddenly gotten a headache, and at his team's suggestion—coercion—he went to his office to rest a while.

Hotch gulped down the aspirin with a drink of water. He rubbed his temple, and when that didn't work he sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. He tried to clear his mind of everything, but he couldn't completely. Parts of the case kept floating through his mind with each pulsating pang of pain.

The victims, -badum-, Phantomhive, -badum-, Jack the Ripper, -badum-

He just couldn't do it.

He was about to get up and return to his team when a flash of red and a word suddenly overlapped everything else in his thoughts.

Watchdog

Hotch snapped his eyes open and sat up straight. 'I…know that. But where have I heard it?'

"Hey, Hotch, feeling better?" Rossi was standing in the doorway looking into the office, "Garcia has something." Hotch straightened up and got out of his chair. "I'm fine now." As he walked with Rossi to the conference room, he realized that his headache was completely gone.

A bustling Garcia led Morgan, Reid, and Prentiss into the room. She made a dash for the screen and switched it to the information she had sent over. "So someone remind me to name the next update to the facial recognition system after our Dr. Reid," she mentioned. The comment raised a few none too surprised eyebrows as she continued. "As requested, I started looking deeper into the Phantomhive family, and didn't find much, not even what we learned today. But, I did find something." At a click of a button, the photo, an obvious to them surveillance photo, that had her stunned a few minutes ago was displayed for all to see.

"Hold on, that's the guy Reid and I saw at the crime scene today," Morgan stated as he leaned forward in his chair. Garcia nodded. "That's what I guessed when I remembered what Reid told me over the phone; uncanny resemblance with Ciel Phantomhive."

"That's not what I said," interjected Reid. "Well that's the gist I was getting from you," explained Garcia before she continued. "I used the system to find pictures of the head/owner of the company in hopes of getting more information, but I also got matches concerning this young man and, surprise, surprise, Ciel Phantomhive." There was something unsettling about that and knowing how good the system was. "So you're saying that the three of them look so alike that the system is seeing them as the same person?" asked Prentiss. Garcia shook her head, "No, I'm not saying that they look so alike, I'm saying that they look exactly alike despite the age differences."

"Alright let's slow down a bit," Morgan cut in, "What about the guy Reid and I saw, do you know who he is? What do you got on him?" The blonde analyst paused for a second. "Well, ah, this photo of him and little info I got I actually got from, well…the DEA and CIA databases." Garcia cringed a little at the end, expecting disapproving glances and tones. Surprisingly, she didn't get any from the unit chief. Instead, Hotch looked to think something over before saying, "He's the Watchdog, first assumed to be a European mob boss, but it's now assumed that he's more than that. We've found ties with various other bosses all over the world, but under him. He's been on their lists for a long time."

Rossi and Reid turned to Hotch and then to each other. "Kind of like the Phantomhive Earldom," said Rossi. "Connected to the Underworld and known as the Watchdogs," finished Reid.


-9:36 P.M.-

This was the last thing he wanted to do. As soon as his butler told Ciel what he had found, the boy was not looking forward to what he had in mind.

"Is he really waiting?" asked Ciel. Sebastian's contempt had not left his face since leaving the company headquarters. "Yes, apparently he thinks we could be of help to him and offered an exchange of information," he answered. Ciel raised an eyebrow. "Really? He doesn't sound as… idiotic anymore."

"I thought the same. But do not expect much of a change."

The two had traveled by car to the area and parked a ways away before continuing on foot. They were going to see the one person who knew something about the incidents, more so the deaths themselves, concerning the Jack the Ripper copycat. And neither of them was looking forward to it.

"Sebastian darling~ you're back!"

Ciel flinched at hearing that voice again after so many years. He looked up to the roof to the right of the alley they were walking down and saw the flamboyant Reaper, Grell Sutcliffe. Grell jumped down off the roof and landed in front of the two. Just as they had, he had updated his clothes since their last encounter to blend in more easily to the current times. Surprisingly, he had also cut his hair, but it was still quite long. His bright red glasses were the only article that hadn't changed.

The usual scene ensued; Grell attempts to grab the butler, and Sebastian effortlessly dodged the Reaper. "Still playing hard to get, Bassy? It's a good thing I like a chase~" He threw the butler a wink, to which Sebastian responded with an irritated scowl.

"Do you have information on this copycat case, Grell?" Ciel bluntly asked, annoyed. Grell looked down at the boy. "Still sweet as ever I see. Well, the thing is that we're also having trouble with this matter. The only reason I'm here is because I was involved in the original case and the Dispatch thinks I will be able to help. Although it seems more of a punishment then anything…"

"Trouble?" asked Sebastian, "So there is a problem with the souls of the victims?"

"Not quite. It's not that there's a problem with the souls, rather it's that the souls were missing," explained Grell, "I'm assigned to reap the souls of the victims of this so-called copycat, and for each of them there wasn't a soul to reap. I have to resort to following the next victim to see for myself."

"Tell me, Grell, what information can you offer for an exchange?" asked Ciel as he crossed his arms. Grell flashed a grin, revealing his shark-like teeth. "Business time? Well alright. As a Reaper, I have all the information relevant to the victim's history. And I think you would find something about the victims very interesting." The young boy frowned. "And what kind of information would you want in exchange?" he asked. "All that I, and the Dispatch, want to know is how you involved in this matter?"

Ciel smirked. "We were simply invited to join in on the fun." It was Grell's turn to frown. "Really? It can't be just that. Well, that should be enough for the Dispatch anyway." The Reaper suddenly jumped up and made his way to the roof to the right of them again. Ciel was about to yell angrily before Grell looked over the ledge down to them. "Well, are you coming or not?" he asked rather seriously. He turned back to look over the roof and walked to the opposite side that overlooked the street. At hearing the sound of footsteps, he looked over his shoulder. "Right across the street from us is the friend of both of the victims."

Sebastian and Ciel looked to where Grell pointed out. There were two scantily clad women, but one was just leaving with an assumed customer leaving the other woman alone. "So she was friends with both victims, what of it?" asked Ciel. Sebastian tapped a finger on his chin in thought. "Actually, young master, that is quite significant. It means that the victims knew each other."

"Very well then, but why couldn't you just tell us rather than bringing us here, Grell?"

The Reaper looked back down at the lone woman. "Because I thought you might like to see the copy-cat's next victim, friend to Stephanie Nichols and Annie Smith, Erica Stride."