Title: Lost Girl

Author: Meghan-the-Melancholy

Rating: PG-13

Summary: The dead body of a 16 year old girl is found raped and beaten, with no identification and witnesses to the actual crime, leaving it up to the SVU detectives to find the girl's murderer.

Author's Notes: This is my first Svu fic, so... be nice. No flames, por favor. If you do flame my ass... then I'll get you, my pretty, and your little dog, too, bitch!

I'll warn you right now: there won't be an E/O pairing. There's too many. A few now and then are nice, but seriously. Every other story is about them. In my opinion, there's not enough Munch fics. He's the coolest mother f-cker on the show, and he's got like zip. Except for Fin/Munch fics, but those are nasty as hell.

So... on with the story.

Disclaimer: Okay, I own NOTHING, except the characters you don't recognize. All SVU characters belong to Dick Wolf, that rich ass mother f-cker. If you do decide to sue my poor ass, here is what you shall receive:

1.) 4 System of a Down shirts
2.) 1 bottle of black nail polish
3.) 1 black eye-liner
4.) 1 black eye-shadow
5.) $1.50

Yeah... so don't sue the poor freaky chick.

Update: Once again, BIG THANKS to all that review.


Fin and Munch peered through the window of the black car as they pulled up to a common hang out for hookers. Already, there were about seven girls loitering, some talking while others puffed at their cigarettes. A blonde took notice of their car, and walked over to the detectives' car, her pelvis moving with each step.

The girl bent herself down, and knocked against the darkened glass. The window of the car rolled down, revealing Fin in the driver seat, and Munch in shotgun. She smiled, and licked her cherry red lips. Her hand placed itself on top of the roof, and allowed herself to lean against the car.

"Hey, boys," She cooed, her voice dripping with sleaze, "Need a picker-upper to get morning started? I've been told I've got the 'Midas touch'. If your coffee ain't working either, I'll wake you up with a morning 'ride'. I'm running a 'Labor Day' special. $100 an hour. It's a good deal; best I'm offering."

Munch couldn't help but let out a small 'huh'. "Look, kid, I'm Jewish," He began, "I'm cheap with everything, even sex." At that point, both detectives revealed their badges. "The last thing I wanna do is pay for it."

The girl stepped back, the color from her face drained. "Hey, hey... I ain't doing nothing wrong, I swear..." She began, her voice shaking.

"We just wanna ask some questions, that's all. And if you can answer them, we won't bring your ass in for prostitution." Fin replied, trying to calm her down. The girl's color returned as she nodded her head, and she came back to the car. "Alright, what do you wanna know?" She spoke, her voice less shaken.

Fin reached into his pocket, and brought forth the picture of their 'Jane Doe'. "Recognize this girl? She also 'worked for the money', so to speak, and she's not even legal." He asked. The girl observed the picture, squinting her eyes as she did so. It was taken at the crime scene, the girl's head turned, facing the camera.

The girl began to shake her head, continuing, "Nah... never. I've worked just about every corner in this city, and never saw that piece of jailbait anywhere."

Munch looked past the blonde hooker, where the other girls were hanging out. "What about them?" He questioned, pointing to the others. The girl looked back at her 'co-workers', and her attention returned to the detectives.

"Give me the photo; I'll ask around, and I'll send 'em over if they know anything." She proposed. It was clear that she wanted to be on their good side, now that she revealed herself to be a hooker. Fin and Munch glared at each other, until Tutuola handed the picture to the girl. "Give me a minute," She said quickly, and walked to the others.

The detectives watched as the prostitute went over to the others. She held out the photo to the other girls, mostly receiving shaking heads. One girl, though, nodded her head. The blonde took the other girl, a redhead, by the arm and towards the car.

The two hookers stood there, as the blonde gave the photo back to Fin. "You know the girl in the picture?" Fin asked, the question directed to the redhead.

The girl, a cigarette in hand, nodded her head. "You could say," She replied, taking in the smoke of her Marbalo. Munch nodded his head, and continued the questioning, "Care to elaborate?"

The redhead blew the smoke through her nose and continued, "I see her once in awhile at this 'Planned Parenthood' clinic in Chelsea. I go every week to check myself, and about every other month for around a year now, she's been coming and going."

Both detectives nodded. "Thanks for your help, girls. If we come around here again, I hope not to see you. And I mean that nicely." Munch said, as Fin began to roll up the window. He started the engine, and they left the 'working girls'.


Monday, September 6th
Planned Parenthood Clinic
Chelsea's Piers, New York, 8:10 am


Munch and Fin walked into the Planned Parenthood Clinic, their eyes prowling the room. It was not at all what they expected; it was an immaculate waiting room, the floors carpeted and the furniture in excellent condition. A few people were already there: a thin brunette was browsing through a Cosmopolitan, a nail biting teenager who was sitting next to who seemed to be her mother, and two jittery teenagers who seem to be there only for the free condoms.

From behind the desk, a scarlet haired woman appearing to be in her early 40's emerged, wearing a light coat and with her keys and purse at hand. Her eyes moved to the detectives.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" She asked with courtesy, a clearly rehearsed line.

As if on cue, Fin and Munch revealed their badges, clearly shocking the woman. "You can start by cooperating with us. I'm Detective Tutuola and this is my partner, Detective Munch. We just wanna ask you a few questions." Detective Tutuola replied, the two men returning their badges to their pockets. Munch reached into his trench coat's pocket, and brought the photo of their Jane Doe to view.

"Seen this girl around here?" The aged detective asked. The woman glanced at the photo before bringing her attention away. "I've seen many girls, detectives, but never her." She said quickly, and began to walk between the detectives.

"That was fast," Fin commented, turning around, "You might actually wanna think back this time."

The woman glared at the detectives, clearly annoyed. "Detectives, I would love to help you, but I have never seen this girl a day in my life." She stated, loud and firm, "Now, I have to leave; one of the girls who come here needs me to confront her mother with her. Good day." At that, she left as quickly as she finished.

Fin sighed, and glanced at his partner. "The bitch blew us off like we were some bum on the streets." He commented, observing the Jane Doe in the picture.

"Which means," Munch began, "That she's hiding something."

"Well, yeah. An extra $500 will do it," A voice commented.

Fin and Munch looked at each other, and then turned around to the counter. There sat a young woman, dressed in all black and considered what society would call a 'Goth'. Her eyes were glued to a magazine as she slowly turned the page. The detectives approached the girl.

"Go on, Morticia; and do the little 'snapping' as well. I like a little music with my 'show'." Munch commented, pulling her leg. Her eyes gave him a nasty glare, but quickly desisted. She sighed, and motioned the detectives to walk closer.

"Red headed cunt is Regina Simmons. If she's not telling you anything about one of the girls she treats, then, most likely, the girl is brought in by this blonde bitch. She comes in one in awhile with these teenagers and gets them checked. When she's done, the blonde slips Regina a little something 'extra', just to keep her quiet." The girl said quietly.

The detectives nodded. "You got a name?" Fin asked. The girl looked back down to her magazine. It was clear that she didn't want to get fired. Tutuola leaned down. "It's standard procedure. If you want, we won't leak your name out. But we need you as a witness just incase the defense gets a subpoena on us. That way, we can convict 'em with no bumps in the road." He continued. The girl was still, before she nodded.

"Kennedy Moran," She stated. Kennedy looked up from her magazine. "Who's the girl you're looking for?" She asked.

Munch, who was diligently righting down what she said, reached into his pocket and held up the picture of their Jane Doe. The girl's eyes widened. "Damn," Kennedy hissed, taking the picture from John. "Ellie May got clipped."

Fin and Munch immediately looked at each other. "Ellie May?" Munch asked, eyeing Kennedy through his black shades. The goth girl nodded, handing the picture back to the Jewish detective.

"My nickname for her. I don't know her real name, but I do know that her Southern accent was so thick it put the KKK to shame." Kennedy explained. "She always came in with the blonde bitch that pays off Regina."

Fin nodded as Munch wrote. "Do you remember when you usually saw our victim?" He questioned. Kennedy thought for a moment. "She came in around every other month for like a year; usually six weeks." The girl answered.

Munch looked up from his notepad. "Amazing; I can't remember how many divorces I've had, and yet, you can remember that every six weeks, a blonde southern girl comes in," the detective commented, raising his eyebrow, "Any reason you remember this information so accurately?" Kennedy closed up her magazine and put it to the side as she took another.

"I'm studying at NYU to be an OB/GYN. My professor's a good ol' fashion republican; he's butt-crazy in love with governor of New York and his best pals, the governors of New Jersey and Connecticut. They and their families meet here like every other month or something; I'd know; my professor would spend most of that week's classes talking about it. Exactly six weeks later, Ellie May pops up, needing an abortion." She explained.

"Did she say anything during those visits that you remember?" Fin asked. Kennedy snickered aloud at this. "God, her visits to here make this job worth while." She said, clearly having flashbacks. "The blonde bitch always brought her in drugged up. Ellie May would flip out. The blonde made her get abortions against her will.

"So then Ellie May would go on, rambling. It was pretty funny actually. Then, the blonde bitch would always hit her and say 'If it weren't for me, you'd still be working over in Sheep Head's Bay'. She would usually shut up then, and then things cooled down."

Munch nodded as he wrote the last of what Kennedy had to say. "So, Miss Moran, are you sure that 'Ellie May' was half baked every time she was brought in?" John asked, confirming her statement.

Kennedy shook her head 'yes'. "I know better than anyone else when someone has some 'substances' running through their system. That girl was high off of something every time she came in. Except for yesterday, that is." She commented, opening up her new magazine.

Munch shot a glance at Fin, who did the same thing. "Wait, wait, hold the phone—'Ellie May' was here yesterday, and you didn't tell us?" Fin asked, shocked. Kennedy looked up from her magazine and groaned.

"I'm sorry, I totally forgot until now. Most of my day yesterday was spent studying for tests." She apologized. "Your girl first wandered around here yesterday while Regina was still working. 'Ellie May' seemed to wait for her to take a lunch break—which she takes her precious time at—and started looked at the pamphlets..."

Kennedy paused for a minute as she thought back to the previous day. "Oh God... She walked over to me and told me she was pregnant. I asked her if she was gonna abort the fucker. She literally flipped out. Total pro-life. Anyways, she said she was thrilled to be pregnant, and that she and the baby's daddy were gonna get married and raise it together." She continued before she shook her head. "If I had a nickel for every time I've heard that..."

Snapping back to the situation, the girl went on, "'Ellie May' then began on how she was finally ready to go back home; bitched about missing the 'Ash Wednesday' activities. Your little Southern belle checked the time and skedaddled out of here faster than Puff Daddy at a club."

The detectives nodded. "Thank you, Miss Moran, we'll be in touch." Munch said, and he and his partner walked away.

As they left the building, John placed his vintage hat atop of his head. "Complained about missing Ash Wednesday activities, eh? If memory serves me right, there is only one state past the Mason Dixie that cares so much about that date," He commented, and added, "Or, more correctly, the day before it."

Fin stopped, and looked at his partner, realizing what he said. "Fat Tuesday; Mardi Gras." The former narcotics detective remarked. John gave a nod, replying, "Correct-a-mundo."

The detectives then walked back to the car, Fin musing aloud, "No wonder we came up with no hits in missing persons; our girl's from Louisiana."