A/N: Sorry it's been so long since I last updated, but I'm out of school for the summer, and I hope to be updating more often. I hope you like this next chapter very much... I think it has some surprises in it. I realized as I wrote it that I may have taken another direction since last chapter, so hopefully this one corrects it well. Reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated, and thanks to all of you who reviewed and gave me some input on the last chapter. You're all amazing!

Chapter 6

"This is never gonna work," Elle muttered as she stood in the NCIS bullpen with her arms to her sides. Gibbs tugged at her Navy petty officer's uniform, trying to straighten out the wrinkles.

"Sure it is. Besides, you look good in a uniform," Morgan replied, grinning at the dirty look she shot his direction.

Gibbs straightened her lapels and motioned to her hair. "Tie that in a bun at the nape of your neck. No flyaways or loose hairs."

"We need someone to get inside, to draw him out," Hotch commented from his perch on the side of Kate's desk.

"If he follows the profile, he'll be compelled to kill again before the seven days are up," Reid interjected.

"I understand one person going," Kate said as she stood in front of a mirror leaned against her desk, pinning her ribbons on the front of her uniform, "but is two really necessary?"

"Aw, c'mon Kate, you don't wanna go undercover, catch the bad guy?" Tony said with a grin on his face. "You can be like Teri Hatcher in Tomorrow Never Dies, catch the spy that threatens to destroy the world…"

"Last time I checked, our guy wasn't trying to destroy the world," Kate replied, tucking a loose hair into her bun.

"Actually that movie is rather inaccurate in its portrayal of…" Reid began.

"We need both of your profiling abilities on this," Hotch interrupted. "Keep your eyes and ears open, watch each others' backs, and keep the profile in mind."

"Look for a stressor, obsessive tendencies, anything that might help us," Gideon said.

Elle and Kate nodded.

Abby joined them in the bullpen, carrying tiny wires in her hands. She handed one of each to the two women. "Here're your mikes. You can pin 'em on anything, but the best bet would probably be your bra strap." She ignored Tony's badly covered snort. Next she handed them a small earpiece. "These are remote, so Gibbs can talk to you. It has a range of five miles, so you should be good unless you get taken on a long drive, which I've seen happen before, it's not…"

Gibbs cleared his throat.

"Sorry," Abby said. She gave them both a quick hug. "Good luck."

Gibbs handed Elle and Kate two separate files. "You are Petty Officer Jennifer McHale," he said as he motioned to Kate. "You've just been reassigned as the yeoman to the base commander at Norfolk." He motioned next to Elle. "You're Petty Officer Renee Hunt, McHale's best friend since high school. You've been assigned to JAG headquarters for a year, but your best friend needed a place to stay so you're moving to accommodate the both of you." The two women flipped through their separate files. "McGee's gonna be in the apartment next to you, just in case anything goes wrong."

Gideon reached over and lightly tugged on Elle's lapel. "We'll be monitoring from Abby's lab, and Dinozzo and Morgan will be less than a mile away the entire time. You need anything…"

"I got it, Gideon," Elle said, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Yeah…"

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He stared at the two beautiful new brunettes in the parking lot. It was a present like he'd never dreamed. Two of them for his collection. Two new friends for the others…

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"Hey Reen, can you grab the other two bags?" Kate shouted at Elle. "I can't get them."

"Sure," Elle yelled back, sprinting down the stairs. She joined Kate at the trunk of their car and reached for the last two bags.

"You think he's around?" Kate asked softly.

"Absolutely."

"This type of unsub needs to be close to his prey, to get a feel for the way she lives," Gideon's voice rang in their ears. Gideon, Gibbs, Hotch and Reid stood in Abby's lab, listening to the two agents.

"Never thought I'd be hearing that voice in my head," Elle quipped.

Kate laughed.

"Less chatting, more moving," Gibbs shouted into the mike. Kate and Elle winced.

Elle grabbed the last two bags and hoisted them up. "Need some help?" The male voice behind them startled them. A good-looking man jogged up to them. He stuck out his hand to Kate. "James Gooding. I live on the second floor."

Kate took the proffered hand. "Jenn McHale." She motioned to Elle. "This is my best friend, Renee Hunt." Elle set down the bags and shook his hand. "We'd really appreciate it. Those stairs are murder."

Gooding laughed. "Nice to meet you. Just moving in?" he asked, lifting the bags and leading them across the parking lot.

"Yeah," Elle replied, shooting Kate a look. "Figured we might as well split the rent on a semi-nice place."

"Which floor?" he asked as they reached the stairs.

"Third," Kate replied. She led them to Apartment 3G and opened the door for them. Gooding set the bags down next to the many boxes they already had. She offered him her hand. "Thanks so much."

"Not a problem," he said as he shook it. "You ladies need anything, just holler." He left, shutting the door behind him.

"What do you think?" Elle said when they were sure they were alone.

"I don't know. He seems nice enough."

"So were Ted Bundy and Jeffrey Dahmer," Elle replied, opening one of the boxes full of confetti paper. "Our boy's definitely got obsessive-compulsive disorder. We'll have to take a look at his apartment or car."

"Got it." Kate opened the bags that Gooding brought up, revealing extra uniforms and clothes for them. She took them into the bedroom and hung them up in the closet.

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Back in Abby's lab, Hotch dialed the number for the BAU headquarters in Quantico.

"Office of the FBI Supreme Genius, how may I direct your call?"

"Garcia, I need you to do a background check on someone."

Gibbs grabbed the phone. "Abby can do the background check."

Hotch reached for his phone. "Our computer tech has at least five screens and CPU's, with unlimited access to government files. It would take her less time than Abby." He caught the look on Abby's face. "No offense."

"None taken," Abby said, sipping on a Caf-Pow and going back to her screen.

"Hotch, you still there?" Penelope Garcia's voice squawked from the phone as Gibbs silently handed back the device.

"Yeah, sorry about that, Garcia."

"You said you wanted me to work my magic?"

The corners of Hotch's mouth turned up imperceptibly. "Yeah. James Gooding. Lives in the GMH military housing in Silver Springs, Maryland."

"I'll pull up his lease and e-mail the stuff to you."

Hotch gave her Abby's e-mail address. "Thanks, Garcia."

"Any time, sugar." The dial tone told him she had hung up.

Hotch flipped his phone shut and grinned to himself. He turned to face the others. "She'll e-mail Abby the info."

Reid looked pensive. "You know, our statement that he wouldn't have any confidence might have been slightly off."

"How's that?" Hotch asked.

"Well, sexual killers like this generally have to charm their way into the women's lives. Look at Jack the Ripper or the BTK killer. They managed to get into their houses simply through charm. Women thought they could trust them. He might not have any sexual confidence, but he's gotta be charming."

"I'll let Elle and Kate know," Gideon said, turning to the microphone.

A beep sounded from Abby's computer. "Got a hit," Abby said, her fingers flying over the keyboard. She pulled up the e-mail Garcia sent over. "Whoa," she said, skimming the document.

"I'll say," Reid said, looking over her shoulder. "Possession, possession with intent, assault, assault with a deadly weapon…"

"Sexual killers usually start with petty crimes like this," Hotch said.

"But there's no voyeurism or sex crimes. Sexual killers start out with petty sex crimes," Gideon interjected.

"Where does that leave us?" Gibbs asked.

"Still in need of a suspect," Gideon replied.

Abby's door opened with a whoosh and Ducky stepped in. "Gibbs, I found something else in the autopsy, but I'll need Abby's help confirming it."

"Whatcha got for me, Duck?" Abby said, turning to face him.

He handed her a vial of blood. "This is from Jane Doe number one, the one with enough blood to test. I need a toxicology report."

"Whaddya thinkin', Ducky?" Gibbs asked.

"You know those ligature marks?" Ducky asked. The four agents nodded. "I found tiny, almost imperceptible cuts on her forearms and legs. I wouldn't have seen them at all if I hadn't thought it was some sort of growth on her arms."

"The point, Ducky?" Gibbs said, impatiently.

"Well, let me just see what Abby says."

Abby's machine beeped. "Got a whoop."

Reid's eyebrow went up as he looked at the results. "Gabadaxol."

"What?" three agents said in unison.

"It's an experimental sleeping pill," Abby said as Reid nodded. "Except, in this case, it doesn't appear to be ingested."

"It appears that he made it into a gaseous form," Reid finished.

"As I feared," Ducky said, his voice worried. He looked at Gibbs. "I'm afraid that our bastard may have tortured these women several days before he killed them."

"That makes him a sexual sadist," Hotch said.

"That shortens our time limit," Gideon said gravely.