When Ava finally opened her eyes again, the sun had gone down, and the room was dark. She turned over onto her back as she slowly came awake, and she realized that her head didn't feel quite as stuffy as it had that morning. Hoping that her fever had finally broken, she leaned over and flipped on the lamp next to her bed.

"Feeling any better?"

She looked up to see Jen standing in the doorway, and she nodded.

"Much."

Her friend walked in and sat down on the bed. "I was thinking of making steaks for dinner."

"Mmm. Beef."

"Carnivore."

"Hell yeah." She stopped, frowning slightly.

"What?"

"I dreamed that Tony was here," she said slowly.

Jen's expression softened. "Oh, sweetie…"

Ava shook her head. "It wasn't a sad dream. I told him about Don…he said it was okay for me to love him. He told me I had to let him go."

"And then what?"

She gave her friend a sad smile. "And then he said goodbye."

"And you're okay with that?" Jen asked, watching her closely.

"Tony's dead, but I'm not. I'm moving on, living my life. And I'm happy with Don."

Jen smiled. "Good. Because he's coming over to check on you tonight. I told him he could eat with us. Sound good?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. You hop in the shower and I'll start cooking."

*************************

Jen sat on the bed for a few minutes after her friend got up and headed for the bathroom. She had been surprised to hear that Ava had dreamed of Tony. Watching her relationship with Flack grow over the past couple of months, she had finally seen her happy again. Ava had even stopped wearing Tony's cross, instead replacing it with one of her own.

Thinking of the necklace, her eyes immediately went to the jewelry box on Ava's dresser. Jen slowly stood up and moved across the room, until she could reach out and lift up the lid of the box. Her friend didn't buy lots of jewelry, but she had a few nice pieces. Her hand automatically strayed to the engagement ring, touching it lightly. Ava had been so happy then. In the back of her mind, Jen wondered if she would ever get rid of the ring – but at the same time, she wondered if she really had to.

A sudden thought striking her, Jen frowned and dug through the contents of the box. Tony's cross wasn't there. She could have sworn she saw Ava put it in there. Turning, she checked the other dresser, knowing that her friend sometimes left jewelry over there as well. But she couldn't find the cross.

Something tickled at the back of her mind, but there was a knock on the door before she could really explore it. Shaking her head, she went to let Flack in.

***********************

There was a quiet knock on the door. "You decent?"

Ava smiled as she turned around, zipping up her hoodie. "Hey, Don."

"Hey." He stepped completely into the room, half-closing the door behind him. "Jen says you're feelin' better."

She nodded. "Glad I have tomorrow off, though. I think another day in bed will do me some good."

Flack smiled, moving closer and reaching out to play with the zipper of her hoodie. "You a Yankees fan now?"

Ava shrugged. "I was never big into baseball before. But now that you've got me watching some games…"

"Yeah?"

She rolled her eyes. "They're a good team. With some really hot players. So I'm all for them."

"As long as you're not rootin' for the Sox."

"You'd probably have to break up with me then, huh?"

"I'd have to give it some serious thought," he replied, his grin wide and his eyes sparkling.

Ava smiled and reached out, resting her hand on his chest. "I love you," she said quietly. Don's smile faded, and he stared at her, his eyes searching. His silence started to worry her and she dropped her eyes, shrugging uncomfortably. "I just thought you should know –"

"I love you." His smile was back, though he looked a little dazed. "I didn't think you'd say it first."

Not knowing what else to say, she leaned up and kissed him softly. Don pulled her closer before raising his hands and tangling his fingers in her dark hair. Tilting her head gently, he deepened the kiss, moaning softly when her arms encircled his torso, pressing their bodies together. Things quickly became heated, and Flack moved forward, backing Ava against the nearest wall and pinning her there. One of his hands slipped under her hoodie, as she clutched at the back of his shirt with her fists. Eventually they had to break for air, both breathing heavily.

"Don," she whispered.

"DINNER!"

They both chuckled at Jen's interruption and then Don leaned down, placing soft kisses to her cheeks and forehead.

"I know," he said quietly. "I'm not tryin' to cross any boundaries. I promise."

"Good." She kissed him again, pulling back quickly. "Then let's go eat."

**************************

"I thought you said we had a scene," Mac commented as he followed Angell through the lab.

"We do."

"Then is there a reason we're going toward the morgue?"

She glanced over at him and shrugged. "The morgue is our crime scene."

Before he could think of something to say in response, they were there, and Sid was standing in front of them, his arms crossed.

"This has never happened to me before, Mac."

The detective frowned. "I'm still not entirely sure what we're talking about," he admitted.

The medical examiner sighed and led him across the room to a large box. "I was about to perform an autopsy when two men came in with this box. They were dressed like the normal guys who bring bodies. I didn't pay them any attention."

Mac looked into the box, and his frown only deepened. A man lay inside, his shirt unbuttoned halfway, and his eyes staring up in death. A wooden stake was lodged in his chest, right into his heart.

"He was staked?"

"I checked with every precinct," Sid told him. "This body isn't from any scene that's been processed."

Angell grimaced. "We're thinking the murderer mailed it direct."

Mac's expression tightened. "Call Adam and Lindsay down here right now. Let's start processing."

****************************

Mac walked into the lab with Angell, surprised when he saw Stella working alongside Lindsay and Adam.

"I didn't think I assigned you to this case," he said, a small smile playing on his lips.

She rolled her eyes at him. "A dead body shipped to the morgue instead of dumped somewhere? Like you could keep me away."

He chuckled at that. "So what've we got?"

"Not much," Adam admitted. "I, uh…I dusted the entire box, inside and out…there's not a single print."

"And I asked Flack to call Ava's fed connection," Stella continued. "We've got another assassin, Mac."

"But why ship this one here?" Angell asked. "What's special about him?"

"So far, he's no different from the others."

"The stake to his chest is…well, it's weird, if nothing else," Adam said. "I mean…who does that?"

"I just talked to Sid," Angell said. "And that's definitely what killed him. And his tox screen came up clean."

"Any prints on the stake?" Mac asked.

"No," Lindsay sighed. "And there weren't any fibers in the box. But," she said, holding up a finger, "I did find one very small thing."

"I'm not sure size matters in this case."

She smirked at him and then led him over to another table. On it was the lid of the box the body had come in.

"The original box didn't have a lock," she explained. "There was a tiny manufacturer's logo etched into one of the hinges, and I followed it until I found the supplier." She saw Mac's eyebrows go up, and she held up her hand. "Don't get your hopes up. They sell these to a variety of stores, and there's no way to track where it went."

"You said the box didn't have a lock originally."

"Right. So the murderer, or someone he's working with, must have put it on. I examined the lock, and I found little tool marks that I was able to match."

His eyebrows shot up again. "To a specific tool?"

"Yes." She paused, enjoying the way he stared at her impatiently. "Remember the ice pick that killed our first assassin?"

"You're kidding," Angell said.

"Nope. There was a small scratch on its surface, and I was able to match it to the tool used on this lock."

"So our killer had already fit the lock onto the box before he killed his first victim."

"This guy is sick," Angell commented.

"And we're getting nowhere in catching him," Mac replied.

"But he did leave us a big clue."

They all turned to see Hawkes standing in the doorway, holding up a DVD.

"What's that?" Mac asked.

"Taped to the inside of the box. Looks like Henderson left us a message."

The detective sighed. "Get everyone in the AV room. Now."

****************************

Christopher Henderson stared out at them through the TV screen, his eyes cold and his lips curled in a cruel smile. Everyone on the team was there, except for Ava. Flack had called her a couple of times and gotten her voicemail – he figured she was sleeping her cold away. As he stared at the man on the screen, he could barely repress a shudder. Just knowing that he had killed those assassins, and knowing the ways he had taunted and tortured Ava, let him know that this was a very dangerous man.

"Hello, Detectives," he greeted, looking out at them. "If you're viewing this, it means you've gotten my package. I hope it arrived safely." He paused. "I know you've been looking for me, with Detective Connelly leading the way. I'm sure she's told you at least a little about our sordid past.

You want the deaths to stop. But even with all of your deductive reasoning and fancy toys of technology, you won't catch me. I've been playing this game for far too long. You want the deaths to stop, and it just so happens that I want something as well. But I will only speak with Detective Taylor, and Detective Connelly. I will not deal with any of the rest of you.

Think about it."

The image clicked off, and Hawkes stepped forward, ejecting the disc.

"Something wasn't right about that," Stella commented.

Danny shook his head. "He didn't give us a location, or a time, or a number, or anything. If he wants to talk to Mac and Connelly, how are they supposed to get in contact with him?"

"Did you examine the video yourself?" Mac asked Hawkes.

The C.S.I. nodded. "It's a plain white room, Mac. Nothing on the walls or the floor to indicate where he is, no windows. There's nothing else on the DVD, and no prints. It's clean."

Angell crossed her arms. "And we're back to the waiting game."

****************************

Ava sighed as she rolled over again. Her head had started to throb again as the day went on, and she knew that she wasn't quite healthy again. Eventually, she had taken a couple Nyquil, despite the fact that it was the middle of the afternoon, and decided that a nap would probably do her some good.

But she wasn't sleeping well. The medicine messed with her head and gave her funny dreams, and every time she woke up a little bit, she felt sluggish and fuzzy. Maybe she should have only taken one instead of the usual two.

Forcing her eyes open, she glanced over at the clock. There would be nothing good on TV at this hour, but she thought maybe she could pop in some of her Law & Order DVDs and relax on the couch. When Jen got home from work, they could make some comfort food for dinner and just hang out. Regardless, she couldn't spend any more time in her bed than she already had.

She threw the covers off of her and tried to sit up, but a shadow detached itself from the corner and came towards her. Before she could even react, a cloth was being held over her mouth, a hand clamping itself to the back of her head. Ava struggled as much as she could, but the medicine was still making her slow, and the bed gave her no help in a fight. Soon, her vision swam and the world went dark.

**************************

Mac sighed as he made his way to the locker room. Another late night spent in the lab, and he still wasn't any closer to getting a handle on Henderson. Moving down a small flight of stairs, he resolved to speak with Ava in the morning – there might be something in her past encounters with the man that could lead them to him, something that they were overlooking now.

As he made the turn towards the door, there was a small sound behind him. He didn't have time to turn around before something cracked against his skull and he crumpled to the floor, the last thought in his head the echo of Henderson's words.