A/N: So...I discovered that whenever I upload my chapters, my tildas disappear. Apparently eats tildas now (it didn't used to...back in the day), and this makes me unhappy because I use them for page breaks, you know, when the scene changes, or time passes. I have now inserted elipses in the appropriate places, and I apologize for any confusion that my disappearing tildas may have caused.

Holy Moly!

"Another body? How many is this? Someone remind me." Detective Munch asked from his desk, massaging his temples. He couldn't hide the bags under his eyes today, since it was just after six in the morning when he had been called in. A jogger found this one.

"Six." Olivia Benson hustled by and dropped a folder onto his desk, "And showing so signs of stopping."

"Six people in twelve days. Can you fucking believe it?" Detective Stabler wielded cups of coffee for everyone skillfully. They knew this would happen, but everyone hoped it wouldn't, so it was still a frustrating surprise of sorts. They hoped it would just stop.

Fin groaned, looking at the board. They had just added a new victim's picture. "There's no pattern. There's no damn pattern, except that it's been one man every other day."

"Copycat?" Cragen asked, "Since the fucking press leaked the MO yesterday?"

"Best copycat, I've ever seen. Not a single clue…not a single shard of any sort of evidence that we can use…again…nothing." Stabler crossed his arms, "Not a hair, not a fingernail, nothing. These fucking guys don't put up a fight."

"Who was this guy?" Cragen nodded to the board, referring to the most recent vic.

"Manny Lopez…got lucky with some stocks a while back…retired early…age forty-two…" Olivia rattled off the facts from memory already, "Lived alone, no family, no friends, kind of a creeper."

"Fin, Munch," Cragen barked, "Go talk to someone…see if he was seen with this girl," he pointed to the board.

"Where did the sketch go?" Munch asked, being the first to notice it was gone.

Cragen looked, "Where the hell did it go?"

"Where the hell are our FBI agents?" Olivia asked, "Maybe they took it? They like to take things and haven't shown up yet."

Fin snatched up that sleek black leather jacket from his chair and headed out the door, followed by a rather sluggish John Munch, who clutched his coffee tightly.

Dr. Huang stood in the background, gripping his briefcase and shaking his head, "I have never seen anything like this. There's so much rage and the rage just keeps growing, but the perp still isn't slipping up. I'm impressed…"

"You and me both," Elliot mumbled, "In the most disgusted way."

"Me, three." Olivia added.

Cragen still stood in front of the board, "Immaculately clean, aside from blood that all belongs to the victim. The victims have been between twenty-four and sixty-six and spread out all over the city." He listed what he knew, hoping to discover some missing piece of information. "We've got a serial killer, with no pattern, but an unmistakable calling card, who isn't deviating, who…"

"She'll get careless eventually…" Huang sighed.

"How many more people have to die before that happens?" Elliot asked. "And are we sure it's a she?" Elliot kept pressing this today. "None of the vics have showed any signs of restraint and their tox screens have come back clean aside from the normal. How could a girl pull this off? Really?"

"Maybe she's a big girl, El." His partner shook her head, "You want this to be somehow homosexual, don't you?"

He shot her a glare, "No. No, I don't, Liv. I just don't get it, and the perp is ripping off their dicks and shoving them down their throat. Now whoever it is…is fucking…ripping off their balls, and this fucking guy had his face pounded in with a ten-pound rock. What girl could do that? It'd have to be a dude, a big dude, and that's pretty homo."

"The perp has to have been a victim and has this rage against men. He or she hates men. He or she is very strong and a control-freak to be so careful and clean." Huang said what he had already said.

"Maybe we're looking for a big lesbian?" Elliot theorized to appease those who were sure it was this slim hot girl was the perp. He banged his fist on his desk, shaking his computer.

"The media is all over this! It's national news as of now and we look incompetent! At least the FBI is already here, for God's sake! You two go do something! Go back to the scene and comb it again! Find a footprint or a fucking fiber!" Cragen shouted while storming to his office. He didn't even look at anyone as he talked, and when he reached his destination he entered and slammed the door.

Benson and Stabler both shrugged at one another and headed for the door to return to the horrific scene that had only recently left, but they knew they wouldn't find anything. Cragen worn down to his last nerve, and could explode at any moment.

In their hotel room, the Winchesters and Bobby prepared themselves to venture into SVU. With the attacks on the news now, the real FBI would probably be showing up and then their cover would be blown. They were under even more pressure now to do their job and get out of town.

Dean straightened his tie in the mirror as Sam and Bobby watched the news broadcast about victim number six.

"That guy looks like a molester," Sam bent down to tie his shoes, but made the quick judgment about the latest victim when they put up his picture.

"Probably was," Bobby commented, "He was even killed near a soccer field where kids were playing last night."

Sam asked, "How would our hot witch manage to seduce a man who likes kids?"

"Fucking mind control, Sammy – the scariest kind. She makes you see what you want," Bobby answered him.

Dean came from the bathroom and said, "If Megan doesn't show up today, I'll ask Casey about her."

"No, I'll ask Casey." Sam protested.

"No, I will."

"She likes me more."

"Shut up and I'll ask her," Bobby snapped. "Hopefully the girl will show up again today and it won't come to that. We'll get her from view, put a bullet in her head and then get away from this damn city."

"Everyone got your garlic?" Dean asked.

Sam seemed unenthusiastic about killing Megan. Internally, he was conflicted. If Megan did somehow turn out to be Circe, they could get the job done and go before they ended up caught themselves or worse. He didn't mind taking out ghosts or killing vampires or demons, who were assholes, but this…this was a hot girl who was only hurting bad people. The bad people were people too though. He and Dean killed people, but only bad people…

Casey walked into work a bit later that morning. She made lunch plans with Megan before the girl scurried off into the darkness the night before. She'd forgotten about her odd request of Olivia, but remembered as soon as she saw the manila folder on her desk. She didn't really expect anything bad to come up with Megan's prints and it didn't matter now, since she knew her last name and all. No way Megan had a criminal record. She was probably fingerprinted for some of her jobs though…anyway, it didn't matter, she thought.

She sat down her briefcase and opened the folder anyway. She looked at the paper and then looked at it again. She read it over at least five times, trying to make sense of it.

"What the…" She started to mutter, but then she realized that maybe Megan didn't even touch her stapler. She should have had Olivia fingerprint something else, but…but she did touch the stapler. She stapled lots of things, Casey was sure.

As she ran over the facts in her head, Olivia knocked lightly and came in, "Did you get-"

"Yeah…" Casey knew she referred to the paper she held onto.

"Do you mind if I ask why you had me do that?" Olivia shut the door behind her, "You've been working a lot the past few weeks, I think you're sort of…going crazy. Cragen is also going crazy, but that's completely different."

She laughed a little, "No…no, I was trying to…nothing. It's not important. There's important stuff going on. It was silly. Get back out there and catch the serial killer."

"Casey, I think you need to take a mental health day, not just a day off."

"So do you," she put the paper away and shoved the entire folder underneath some other documents.

"As soon as we catch this perp, you need to come out for drinks with us."

"I will," Casey sat down and attempted to portray that she was finished talking.

"I guess I'll get back to work…we found another body this morning and all."

Casey nodded. She wanted to tell her friend that she got a kitten, but it didn't seem to be the appropriate time. Maybe she did need a mental health day or five – a whole vacation. Olivia left, and then she started preparing another argument for a case that would be open and shut.

Sam, Dean, and Bobby came in short after Casey and pretended to jump into the flow of things, but mostly they were waiting around to see if Megan showed up to test their theory. They sat around their make shift desk near the board and tried to look like they were doing things.

Olivia crept up on them, "Did you guys take the sketch artist's picture?"

They all looked at her blankly.

"I'll take that as a no…"

"Aren't there more copies?" Dean asked her.

"Yeah, but we can't find those either. Everything here is a shitshow right now." She put her hands on her hips.

The FBI agents just looked at her.

"Did I interrupt something?" She asked inquisitively.

"We're having deep thoughts," Dean answered.

"Right. Ok. Well…I'm going to look for everything that's missing." She turned and left them.

Dean leaned forward and whispered, "Do you think Megan could have ganked all of the stuff that's missing when no one was looking?"

"Hell, I think she may have done it when everyone was looking." Bobby answered.

"I hope this garlic business actually works. Do we need some sort of plan?" Sam grew worried and nervous as the moments passed.

"Grab her. Shoot her. Leave in a hurry." Dean looked at him, not understand the source of his concern.

"Who are we shootin'?" Fin asked, overhearing their conversation.

"No one. I was telling that joke about the panda." Answered Dean.

Fin raised an eyebrow. "I don't think you told it right…"

"He never tells it right," said Sam forced a laugh.

Fin looked at them and said seriously, "No, really. Who are we shootin'?"

Bobby let out a chuckle and leaned back in his chair, "Megan."

Fin paused for a second and he too laughed, finding Bobby's answer very funny, "Why are we shootin' the hummus girl?"

"We think she's the serial killer," Bobby said, still laughing.

"Get outta town, you're crazy," Fin blew him off and went back to his own desk.

Munch announced from his desk, "Just got a call from one of the parents at the soccer game…said a hot girl walked off with the vic."

Elliot sat up straight, "Same hot girl?"

"They said she was a ten and this guy was a two, which seems about right. They didn't know why she'd be with him, and they said she was wearing a white dress."

"Megan was wearing a white dress yesterday," Sam recalled, and shared it only with the group.

"If she's the killer, how the hell did she kill him in a white dress with all of the damn mess she made all over the damn woods and then walk the hell out of the damn woods and no one notice?" Rambled Fin.

"Maybe she has an accomplice?" Elliot tossed out, "Probably a strong man."

Megan walked into SVU at that moment like she belonged there. She started to traipse through paying no mind to anyone. No one seemed to notice her today, except the three fake FBI men. She wore rather drab clothes, nothing special, a t-shirt and jeans. She seemed uncomfortable and she looked toward the Winchesters and Bobby. She walked slowed, and as she got closer, she seized up. She coughed once, and in the next moment, she covered her nose and mouth and tried to walk across the room to Casey's office as unobtrusively as possible. She looked out of the corner of her eye as the hunters watched her.
"You ok?" Elliot asked, noticing her then as well.

She nodded and said through her hand, "I think I inhaled some dust or something."

"She's our girl…" Sam whispered, reluctantly. He didn't even want to say it, and at this point he was stating the obvious.

"Might be a coincidence," said Dean.

"No such thing as a coincidences." Bobby told him, "You know that."

Sam started to say between his teeth, "Never have I seen you have qualms-"

"You're usually the one with the fucking qualms," Dean hissed back.

"What are you guys whispering about over here? Is it a secret FBI meeting?" Munch asked them, standing over them with a fresh cup of coffee, rewarding himself for taking the phone call, linking another victim.

They all looked at him, and Dean was the first to respond with, "Yes."

"You all know something we don't know?"

"Yes," answered Bobby.

"Damn conspiracies," the detective wandered back to his desk, and Megan took cover in Casey's office.

"You ok?" Casey asked, looking up.

Megan took a moment to catch her breath. She looked angry, "Yeah…I just…I got something caught in my throat."

"Ready to go to lunch?"

Her breathing still seemed labored, and she looked a bit pale. She said, "I don't feel very well…"

"Oh…I'll go get you something if you want. You can lay on my couch. That's what it's for…well…it's for me to sleep on when I don't go home, but still…"

"No." She answered immediately, "Don't go anywhere. Just stay."

"I have a trial in a little bit…"

Megan shivered, "Shit."

"Are you sure you're ok?" Casey had completely looked away from her work.

"Yeah…" she insisted, "Can you give me a ride somewhere?"

"Now?"

"Yeah."

"I really don't-"

Megan looked at her and pleaded with her eyes only, "Casey."

She gave in, and reached into her briefcase to grab her car keys, "Let's go."

"Wait a minute," she finally sat on the couch.

"Is something wrong?"

"I just don't feel well, that's all." Megan rubbed her head and her eyes as well as her throat, and sat quietly for a few minutes just staring down at her feet. She had started to sweat.

"You're in a damn police station, and I can get help if you need help…"

"Why are you insisting that I need help? I don't. I'm fine. It's all fine." Megan legitimately snapped at Casey for the first time, but she recoiled quickly, "Sorry…"

"Where do you need to go?"

"A few blocks up to the subway. I can't walk there, that's all."

"Do you want some water or something?"

She shook her head and stood up, shakily. The two walked out and she kept close to Casey. She kept Casey between her and the Winchesters who still watched her like a hawk. They whispered among themselves, but didn't take their eyes off of her. She watched as Dean stood, and she kept walking. She nudged Casey with her shoulder until she picked up the pace. Once outside she hustled to Casey's car.

The lawyer looked at her confusedly, and before she could say anything, Megan said, "Can you please hurry?"

Casey unlocked the car and the two got in, "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"I can't."

"Why can't you?"

She put on her seatbelt and watched the doors they had just come out of, "I just can't. You don't want to know."

"But I do," she insisted.

Megan looked at her as they pulled away. She began to feel better and the color came back to her face, "Why?"

"Because," was all Casey managed to say before she gave up the argument. It wasn't like Casey to give up an argument. It wasn't like Casey to ever back down, but she did this time. "Did you staple anything the day you were working in my office?"

"Yeah. Why?"