His hands clenched into tight fists as he watched the dark haired detective spring forward to calm the shrieking woman; he growled low in his throat as she gently led the distraught mother away.

He had been livid when he first saw the clip from that morning's press conference on the six o'clock news. So furious that he had kicked a hole through the downstairs television, destroyed half of the living room and nearly ripped his toy apart before he caught himself. Anger was not productive at the moment; it would only serve to get him caught. But it was so hard not to become enraged as the newscaster went on and on about the brilliant, accomplished, tragic Detective Rizzoli. It made his blood boil, made him want nothing more than to wrap his hands around her slender neck and squeeze until she was terrified of him, until her eyes bulged and her lips turned blue, and all that arrogance, all that misplaced confidence she had was gone and delicate bones would crunch and he could rip and slash and – He breathed deeply, trying to steady himself. How dare she unearth his secrets? How dare she vow to catch him? As if some dirty whore of a detective could catch him. He snorted at the thought of it.

The taste of blood flooded his mouth and he realized that he had been biting down on his knuckle so hard that he had broken skin. He sucked at it absently as he stood to pace, waiting for the national news to begin, plotting his next move. One thing was for sure, he was going to have to be extra careful during playtime for a while. Parents in Boston were sure to be on high alert after this morning. It would not do to lose this toy without a replacement.

It was another two hours before Jane finally managed to get the last set of desperate parents on their way. As the rest of the task force sat to compare notes, Jane groaned, trying to find a reason to put off another visit to the morgue. Sighing, she realized there was nothing for it.

"Allright, guys," she said quietly, "try to find some connections between statements. I've got to go meet with Maura's forensic anthropolo-guy. "

She heard them murmur in acknowledgement and turned on her heel, dreading what was to come.

The still silence of the elevator unnerved her after the constant noise and fraying emotions of the bullpen. She leaned against the wall, trying not to fidget, desperately attempting to think of something other than the horrible reality she would find when the steel doors opened. Tried not to dwell on the horrendous wounds that had been inflicted on the boys. Tried to think of anything other than the possibility that they might not get the sick son of a bitch who was doing this. She rubbed her palms anxiously and the jolt of discomfort she felt as she pressed too hard on one of the scars grounded her thoughts. They would bring this monster to justice, she resolved. No matter what. Unbidden the image of the latest victim sprung into her mind, tiny in death. Sometimes it seemed as if just catching the culprit wasn't nearly enough.

The morgue was unusually quiet. All the commotion and noise that had been the norm over the past two days had ceased and instead of the crowd that had been there earlier, the room was entirely empty except for the two forms standing at the examination table.

Dr. Louis Jepson looked nothing like Jane had imagined him. She, for some reason, had been expecting a pudgy, balding, older gentleman, dressed in entirely in tweed – the kind with elbow patches. What she found, however, was a tall man in his early forties with impeccably styled hair, greying at the temples. Exceedingly (almost sickeningly, Jane thought) handsome, he had the build of a swimmer and was clearly very well dressed under his lab coat.

Jane found that she did not like him. She did not like his overly shined shoes. She did not like the ostentatious Rolex glinting at his wrist. She especially did not like the familiarity with which he placed his hand on the small of Maura's back as they leaned over the slab.

She entered the room quickly. Maura turned and brightened slightly, beckoning Jane towards the table.

"Hello," began Jane briskly, hoping to get the introductions out of the way quickly, eager to hear any new information the Doctor might have and to get him on his way, "I'm Detective Rizz– "

Jepson did not look up from the table. "Shhhh!"

Jan's eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline. "Excuse me?"

The anthropologist sighed angrily, pummeling a button on his hand-held recorder and turning to face the detective. "Yes, yes, you're Detective Rizzoli, I know. I, obviously, am Doctor Louis Jepson. Now if you would be so kind as to bring your interruption to an end, I would very much like to get back to my observations." He turned back to the table. "Honestly, Maura, how do you put up with this?"

Maura frowned, somewhat worried about the colour Jane's face was turning. "Actually, Detective Rizzoli is the for—"

"That was actually a rhetorical question."

Jane was now shaking in anger, "Listen here, pal, I don't know who you think—" She stopped abruptly at Maura's placating hand on her arm.

"Jane," she whispered, "Let's talk about this in my office, please."

"Now," she added as Jane showed no signs of moving.

With one more scathing look at the back of Jepson's perfectly coiffed head, Jane allowed herself to be dragged from the room. As soon as the door to Maura's office clicked shut behind them, Jane began her tirade.

"Who the hell does he think he is? Where does he get off speaking to us like that? Speaking to you like that? I swear to God, Maur, I don't care how respected he is, he's gonna get a piece of my mind. No one talks to you like that. No one."

Maura waited patiently until Jane was done shouting. Calmly, she patted the spot on the couch beside her, waiting for her friend to sit.

"You'll have to forgive Louis, Jane. He requires complete silence to work and—"

"And so that gives him the right to talk down to us like that? He's a jackass, Maura! Why are you defending him?"

"Jane, I'm trying to talk to you. If you would please sit down and let me speak, it would be greatly appreciated."

Jane had the grace to look slightly abashed. "Sorry, Maur."

Maura smiled tiredly. "It's quite all right, Jane. I realize that Louis' actions could be construed by some as discourteous."

"Might?" snorted Jane.

Maura rolled her eyes. Jane recognized the action as one of her own. "I suppose the fact that I have known Louis for many years has led me to expect that sort of behaviour from him."

"Oh, God," moaned Jane, "don't tell me he's another one of your old boyfriends."

"Hardly," scoffed Maura. "Our parents are well acquainted, friends even. Our mothers belong to several of the same societies and charitable organizations. After my engagement with Garrett ended, Louis and I were set up on several occasions. Needless to say, nothing ever came of it. I think you can see why."

Jane was disproportionately relieved by that statement. "Well, then why is do you let him talk to you like that? We both know how you handled Pike when he disrespected you in your own lab. "

"That was far more simple, Jane. For all intents and purposes, I am Dr. Pike's boss. Whether he likes it or not, I was put in charge for a reason. He merely needed to be reminded that whatever his personal feelings towards me may be, it is his duty to, at least, respect me professionally." Maura sighed. "However, I am not Louis' superior. Despite all the things I would like to say to him and all the things I suspect you may want to shout at him, the fact remains that he is invaluable to this case. Already he has pointed out several anomalies that I could have very easily missed."

"Please," muttered Jane, "Like you ever miss anything."

Maura rolled her eyes. "While I do appreciate your belief in my abilities, I must remind you that even cyborgs such as myself are not infallible."

Jane smirked, mood lightened by Maura's small joke. "Good. Maybe us humans still stand a chance after all."

Maura chuckled, "I hardly think a small thing like homicidal robots could stop the famous Jane Rizzoli."

"Homicidal robots, Maur? Really? Been perusing Frost's video library, have we?"

The duo happily let themselves enjoy the brief moment of levity before sobering again.

"Anything new I should know?"

"Yes, actually. Through dental records Mimi was able to identify seventeen of the twenty victims. I had her send the results to both you and Frost. "

"Why only seventeen?"

"It seems as though in three instances part of the torture included pulling the boys' teeth one at a time."

Jane sucked at her own teeth thoughtfully, wincing slightly at the idea. "So no dentals, and prints are a no go as well? How're we gonna ID them?"

"Seeing as they are some of the oldest remains, it seemed prudent to charge Justin with the task of starting facial reconstruction to see if Frost will be able to match the results to any pictures."

"McGregor does facial reconstruction?"

Maura smiled, "Yes, he has completed a course and gone to several lectures on the subject, I believe. Obviously, we will have Louis or another of his colleagues check the end result, but overall I am quite confident in Justin's abilities."

Jane clapped her hands together and stood, "Hey, if you think McGregor's got this, then that's enough for me, Maur. I'll talk to you later. Call me when that prick's done, ok?"

Jane slammed the door to Maura's office purposely and was pleased to see Jepson's shoulders stiffen at the noise. Stomping as loud as she could and knocking an empty tray to the floor as she passed, Jane vindictively called out as she left the morgue. "See ya around, Jetson!"

Disclaimer: I own only the characters you don't recognize, and I'm even willing to share them.

A/N: So, not very professional of our dear detective perhaps, but I do so much love a jealous Jane. Sorry for the breaks between updates, killer exams, a minor concussion and laziness all got together and conspired against me. Please, please review! :) - Sloane