We're heading straight into ACT II on this one now. I won't lie, the following chapters might make you feel a creepy little tingle here and there. And it won't get much better down the road.

ACT II

Mike sighed in defeat at the pile of notes and missed calls on his desk, visible before he even reached his office. Crossing the busy bullpen shortly after seven, he was positively surprised to find Steve at his desk already, his lean back toward him as he was having an engaged phone conversation with somebody, causing him to pace back and forth for the length of the coiled phone cable.

Trying to listen in, he heard enough psychology-mumbo-jumbo to know that the young Inspector was talking to Lenny.

Unable to hide a smile when he heard Steve refer to their She-Man for the third time, he briefly rested a hand on his partner's upper back, enough to let him know that he was in, before entering his office and taking off his coat and fedora.

The impressive pile awaiting him spoke of a busy morning in Homicide and he could tell from afar that many of the pages were court notices about upcoming appearances. It didn't' surprise him much judging by the heavy caseload they'd been having to work under for the past few months. Whether the timing was right or not, Mike made a mental note to request hiring an additional team of Homicide Inspectors to ease some of the strain they all felt.

Sitting down and browsing through the assortment of notes for a brief minute, Mike was surprised to see a message that Doug Mansfield had called earlier this morning, asking that he call him back. There was also a meeting request from Olsen for 3pm this afternoon to discuss their case and the direction it was headed. Off to the side was a copy of the LAPD file on their mysterious strangler, making Mike wonder just how early his partner had gotten in.

"Yeah, but what if he isn't?"

Outside his office, he heard Steve raise his voice significantly, as he adjusted the gold buckle of his black leather belt, the newest nervous tick his partner had developed over the past few months.

At first, Mike had shrugged it off as part of the tension that followed them from their professions into their private lives on a regular basis; but lately, with his senses cued to Steve's increasing secrecy and odd behavior, he couldn't help but wonder just what exactly the young Inspector was keeping from him.

"Well yes, but I don't think you're listening to me, Lenny. You know what…just…just forget about it, ok?"

Noting several Officers in the bullpen following Steve's conversation with the uppity psychiatrist with great interest, Mike was surprised when the young inspector hung up the phone with a loud thud, before leaning up against his desk, head dropping to his chest in defeat.

Deciding to intervene, Mike got up from his desk and grabbed a fresh cup of coffee, before refilling his partner's as well.

"You eh…woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something?"

Steve looked up in unmasked irritation, as he set the steaming cup down in front of the young Inspector, noting the red streaks appearing on the side of his neck, the sole sign of his inner turmoil he couldn't hide with a fake smile.

Shaking his head, the young Inspector exhaled slowly, jaws clenched as if he was fighting an inner battle on what to say.

"No. Lenny was just…being Lenny. I swear, he's taking on his patient's manic behavior the longer he's on the job…"

"What did he have to say?"

"It's not what he had to say, it's just that he…he wouldn't open his mind to what I had to say. For somebody who constantly preaches to us about keeping an open-"

"Alright, alright, never mind all that…", Mike said and slowly raised his free hand to quiet his partner, "What is it that you were trying to tell him?"

Steve's bright green eyes shot up at him in annoyance, momentarily showing some of the fury that was boiling beneath, before the young Inspector once again blinked away his emotions and ran a hand through his wavy hair.

"It's this guy at the bar…see, if we assume that Lenny is correct in that our suspect either is some ridiculously strong woman, or a cross dresser, and if we believe Reggie and that the guy he saw at Bogo's is indeed our suspect…why wasn't he dressed as a woman? From his description, he was just your average Joe Blow walking in and making awkward conversation. Nowhere in our psychological profile, or that of the victims, are we lead to believe that this guy might be after some sort of homosexual relationship. He seems to be straight, the victims were straight…it doesn't tie one bit. Either we are wrong, Reggie is mistaken, or there's a third possibility, and quite honestly, that's what I am starting to believe..."

"You think our killer isn't working alone…"

Steve nodded anxiously and drank a quick gulp of coffee, before clearing his throat again.

"What if…and I am just throwing this out there…what if our actual killer hired somebody to bring him or her those victims? Would explain our theory on a female killer and how these seemingly strong men were overtaken. This guy who…who finds these men…it could just be some regular crook off the streets, getting paid per capture and staying far away from all the criminal acts once he drops them off. What better way to lure in prospective victims than to use a seemingly harmless looking guy?"

Tapping his partner's chest with his index finger, Mike nodded in somber agreement.

"I think you are right on, Smiley. Let me get rid of a couple of those notes on my desk, and then we'll hit up the streets and ask around. Now that we have the sketch drawing, we should check the other locations where our victims went missing, see if somebody saw or heard anything. This net is getting tighter and tighter, I can feel it."