Ford and I head back to his place after we get off of work that day. It seems like it is our basic routine. I have a couple drawers with my things in them at his place and I hardly ever go back to mine. We had been talking about things we'd need to move to Ford's place since we had decided to move in there, it's closer to the bureau and is a bit nicer than mine. I turn back to Ford as we walk in, "the good part about moving me in here, is there is no furniture to move. Since my place was furnished when I moved in. So all we'd need to grab are clothes, dishware, things like that."

"Well, I need some good dishware here." Ford nods as he sits down his briefcase and takes off his jacket.

"But if you want a baby so much, we should probably look into a place with an actual bedroom. Two would probably be better."

"Yeah, but we have some time before that happens."

"We hope." I chuckle and shake my head.

"But if we need a place with multiple bedrooms, why don't we just look into a house?"

I shrug, "that's not a bad idea. It'd be cheaper than renting a place." I laugh softly, "but the scandal."

"I know," Ford laughs as he nods, "two unmarried agents, moving in together and planning on having a baby."

"It's horrible." I act all dramatic and place a hand on my forehead as I put my head back.

"It's terrible." Ford takes the opportunity to grab me by the waist and back of the head, dipping me a bit before kissing me, then bringing me back up. "Is Bundy really your favorite serial killer?"

"I don't know that you can have a favorite killer, but one I find to be the most interesting." I nod. "Did you know, there was only one time he was actually close to being caught."

"You mean, other than the time they caught him?" Ford chuckles.

"Ha ha, very funny. But I'm serious. He said there was a couple walking in the woods that actually stepped on the body of a woman he'd just killed, while he was in the bushes a few feet away."

"And that's why I don't go into the woods."

"Really? It isn't because you don't own anything other than suits?"

"Why would I buy something other than suits if I don't need anything other than suits."

"You need something other than suits, Holden. What about loungewear? I mean, if we do have a baby, it would be jetting off all the time. We'll actually have some time off and time to do absolutely nothing." I think for a moment, "that actually may be the biggest plus to having a baby."

"Not having a mini me?"

I shake my head, "Holden, I love you, so please don't take this the wrong way, but sometimes I can barely handle you, you. So I don't even know where to begin on handling two of you."

"What if we had a little girl."

"And she didn't turn out like her daddy?"

"No," Ford shakes his head, "what if we have a little you? What if our child is smart, and kind, and…" Ford takes a deep breath, "just all around amazing."

"One, it takes a while from them to develop those traits. And two, they're going to be all of that and more anyway." I shake my head, "Holden, with you as a father, I have no doubt our child will be smart, and kind, and sweet, and caring, and so many other things I couldn't even think of… but are all reasons why I love you."

"I love you too, Nance." Ford leans in and kisses me.

I smile softly, waiting for a moment before I pat him on the shoulder, "come on, we gotta study up on Manson."

When we get in the next morning everyone is rather excited to start our debriefing on Manson. When we get into the new conference room, Smith looks around a bit confused, "is Bill not here yet?"

Carr shakes her head, "he's gonna be a little late today. We can go ahead and start without him."

"What?" I chuckle softly, "are we going to listen to the music of the man himself?"

"Yes, actually. I thought it could help us better understand Manson."

"That's actually not a bad idea."

"Thank you." Carr walks over the tape player on the table and presses play. It begins to play Cease to Exist, a song Charles Manson wrote back in 1970.

"Cease to exist

Just come and say you love me

Give up your world

Come on, you can be"

As the song plays Tench walks into the room, Ford puts a finger up, listening to a few more bars before turning off the tape player. Tench sighs, shaking his head, "seriously?"

"He's not bad." I shrug. "Maybe a little tough to promote."

"You're not bad." Tench looks to me, "this is just going down the rabbit hole." he sighs and shakes his head again, "did I miss anything that matters?"

"No," Carr shakes her head, "we were just about to start talking objectives."

"Wendy is absolutely right." Ford nods as Tench walks around the table to his seat, "we're not asking Manson about the killing. What we need to find out is how a diminutive, uneducated, ex-con conviced a group of middle-class teenagers to brutally murder seven strangers."

I nod and place photos of each killer onto the table as I name them, "The killers: Susan Atkins, 19. Manson called her 'Sadie.' Church choir member. Linda Kasabina, 20. Good student. Described as a 'starry-eyed romantic' by her friends. Patricia Krenewinkel, 22. Studied catechism. Considered becoming a nun. Mary Brunner, 26. Librarian. And Tex Watson, 24. Honors student, school paper editor, lettered athlete."

"Looks like a high school yearbook." Tench nods to the photos.

"They all grew up in average homes, had high school educations, at least. Some even had college. Then all became runaways and somehow washed up in Manson's Family."

Ford nods, "With the exception of Brunner, the very first Family member, their transformation to murderers took less than two years."

" Mary Brunner wasn't involved in the Tate/LaBianca murders." Carr looks up to Ford.

"That's correct. She was arrested with Bobby Beausoleil just two days before Tate/LaBianca. The pair killed a music producer over a bad drug deal, but what's really of interest is the scene. Brunner and Beausoleil tried to pin their murder on the Black Panthers by writing 'political piggy' on the wall in the victim's blood."

"Now here's the LaBiance scene. 'Death to pigs. And the scene at Cielo Drive… " I take a deep breath, "'Pig' in Sharon Tate's blood."

"Helter Skelter. It was Manson's theme. The prosecution's case rested on his desire to incite a race war as motive and his family control over the Family as means."

"Ever heard of Krishna Venta?"

"No." Tench shakes his head.

"Ex-con who declared himself a messiah. He found his own church, preaching society was corrupt and doomed. He said there was a race war coming. Krishna said he knew a secret place in the desert where he and his flock could wait it all out. Then, when it was all over, they'd emerge. Ready to create a new civilization."

"That's right out of Manson's playbook."

I shake my head, "Not Manson's, Krishna's. Manson stayed at his church in '68. He said 'it's like the spirit of everything brought me there.' later, he espoused exactly the same doctrine, calling it Helter Skelter."

"Helter Skelter wasn't even Manson's idea?" Carr shakes her head.

"As borrowed as the name."

"He's a fraud." Tench sighs, "Still, the question remains, how does a guy like that…" he gestures to the photo of Manson, then to the killers, "get kids like that..." he then moves to the photos of the crime scenes, "to do that?"

"With any luck we'll find out." I shrug and take a deep breath.