Sergeant Platt takes each step up to Intelligence one by one; her hand sliding against the railing as she walks up. The young detective –dressed as a textbook fed- followed her up the stairs, and when they approached the top step she took in the sight around her. Mouse was typing away on the keyboard while staring intently at the computer screen, Olinsky was in Voight's office having a very loud conversation about their current case, Atwater and Ruzek were sitting in their desk chairs balling up paper and trying to toss it into a trashcan a few feet away, Burgess –who was promoted to detective a few months ago- sat with Dawson as he caught her up to speed on all of their open and active cases and Erin was sitting on the corner of Jay's desk with her head tilted back laughing loudly at something Halstead must have said.

Platt tucked her hands into her front pockets and rocked forwards and backwards on her feet; she cleared her throat when her presence alone didn't pull in their attention. Her hands withdrew from her pockets and she clasped them together as her head nodded in the direction of the newcomer, "This guy here says he's working on a case with you all."

"I didn't know the dress code was so," he looks around –obviously disgusted by the lack of professionalism in their wardrobe- his eyes set on Voight as he and Olinsky exit the office, "so casual. I thought you all would be dressing business professional."

"Yeah, we don't prefer to look like cops while we're out trolling the streets." Voight shuts his office door behind him before walking towards the detective, "Where's the case file?"

Before raising the thick manila folder in his hand, Tyler turns to face Platt, "It was nice to meet you Sergeant Platt," the detective extends his hand towards the woman of higher authority. Instead of shaking his hand, she rolls her eyes and heads back down the stairs. Detective West could only smirk at her lack of response, "Is she always so lovely?"

"…only to the people she likes," Burgess walks over and retrieves the file from his hands, "Oh, and I'm Kim by the way." She takes the file over to Voight and hands it to him.

"Tyler," he calls out to her retreating figure.

"Antonio Dawson," he hears a detective call out from behind a desk; his eyes never once rose to meet Tyler's, but he didn't care. He simply nodded at the man's introduction.

"Kevin Atwater," another detective raised his hand from behind a desk on the opposite side of the room. Once again Tyler didn't meet his eyes, but for different reasons; he spotted Erin.

"Al Olinsky."

"Adam Ruzek."

"Mouse," the name in this introduction does catch his attention. He pulls his eyes away from Erin and turns to their tech guy.

"Is that a nickname for something? How did you end up with the name of a rodent?" There's a smug look on the detective's face –it's a look that automatically irritates Mouse.

"I'm Jay Halstead," the introduction of Jay cuts in before Mouse is able to respond. He saw his closest friend's growing annoyance and if they were going to work with Detective West for who knows how long then they all needed to at least try and get along for the sake of the case.

Detective Tyler West nodded at Halstead's introduction –he remembered all of them from yesterday, and he more specifically remembered Halstead as the one who left with Erin last night. Tyler saw her; she's dressed in a sweater and a pair of jeans, sitting casually against the edge of Jay's desk, "And you beautiful?" Detective West asked; ignoring the creased brows of Jay as he watched their interaction.

"We already met."

"I only got your first name," he reminded, buttoning one button on his suit jacket. His posture straight and his head held high to portray confidence. Girls like confidence.

Erin sighs and stands up from her leant position against her husband's desk, "Erin Lindsay."

"Married," he saw her hand and the ring wrapped around her finger.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You're married."

She follows his line of vision to see his focus on her ring finger, "I am," she nods.

"To him?" His eyes fall over her shoulder and rest upon Jay. Soon enough his eyes trail away and land onto the framed photo of her and Halstead on his desk.

Erin smiles and begins heading towards her desk, "That would be correct."

"You didn't have your wedding band on last night," he follows her.

"Well, I was undercover," Erin pulls her seat out and flops down into it, "I'm pretty sure we wouldn't have met if I had my wedding ring on."

"I have nothing against married women," his words earn the attention of every single person in the bullpen. They're surprised; Tyler is fully aware of her marriage and who her husband is and yet he still makes the conscious decision to flirt with her in front of all of them, including Jay. Tyler's back remains to everyone else as his eyes remain on Lindsay, "I like a challenge."

Her hands clasp over her lap, "Well, you'll have to find another. My marriage isn't a game."

"We'll see," he says casually; his eyes sparkling at the challenge set before him. He's infatuated. She's definitely not like the previous women who came into his life; she's different in a good way. She's fun. This back and forth flirty banter they do is fun to him.

"I'm Voight," Tyler feels someone grip his shoulder and turn him around; it's the boss from last night. It's the man who he suspected is the one who creates the rules and dishes out the orders.

Tyler smiles –he doesn't get intimidated; he never has. He takes a step back and adjusts his suit jacket, "No first name?"

"Just call me Voight," the sergeant retorts, setting the opened file down on Lindsay's desk, "Now, get us up to speed on where you are in the investigation and stop flirting with her."

"Yes sir."

Fun had to come to an end for now. He had a job to do. He had orders to follow and as of right now he had to catch the entire team up to speed on where he is in the investigation.

"We're looking for an Asian male somewhere between the age of 40 and 50," Tyler starts to inform as he walked up and down the aisle of the bullpen, "He targets women at the nightclub, torments them for a varying amount of time before killing them. My guess is the length of time he torments them depends on how much he likes them," Tyler tucks his hands into his suit jacket pocket as he continues to walk, "We are aware that he takes some part of his victims. The first woman, he carved out and took her tongue and carved off her lips. The second woman, he scalped out her hair. The third woman, he took off all of her fingers. And the fourth woman, he took her breasts. He removes the body part before strangling them."

"Those poor women," Burgess whispered; her eyes falling downwards to glance at her lap –she's avoiding eye contact, "He tortured them while they were alive." She has only been in the unit for a few months, but the amount of casework, open and closed cases and the sometimes sick minds of the people they question in the interrogation room are straining. It's like time is of the essence. They have to immerse themselves in the case just to catch this sick bastard as soon as possible –before he can target, torment and kill his next victim; before he can get away and flee from the city. They had to catch him in order to get justice for the families and for the lives he took away.

"Have any of the missing body parts been located?" Erin asks as she browses through the case file. Most of the information in the file they already knew, but there were a few key pieces of evidence inside of it that was new to her.

"No." Tyler responds as he turns to face her, "He must keep them for souvenirs or something."

"We locate the missing body parts, we locate him."

"…in theory, yes."

"How did you find all of this information out?" Skepticism is evident in Voight's question; his arms are crossed against his chest and his head is titled to the side in curiosity.

"I've been focused on finding him before he can kill anyone else."

"That doesn't answer my question." Voight didn't like Tyler –it was obvious. And his dislike for Tyler seeped into his trust for him. The only reason he agreed to work with Detective West was for the four women lying in the morgue –they're the only reason he agreed to his help.

"Don't worry about how I found out; worry about apprehending him. He'll keep doing this until he's captured. It's a game to him. Four women are dead. He wants to be caught; he just needs someone as smart as him to catch him.

Voight gives in, "So walk us through what you know."

Tyler smiles; he resumes his back and forth walk down the aisle of the bullpen. He ignores the overwhelming sound of Mouse typing and Atwater clicking his pen. He unbuttons the one button on his suit jacket before removing it, "Each victim regularly visited the club and during their visit must have met the perp." He sets his jacket down onto the nearest desk, "After speaking with family and friends, we know they were being tormented over a varying length of time," Tyler rolls up one sleeve, "The women received emails, got packages, were followed, and the list is endless. They went to the police, but it got them nowhere." He rolls up the other.

"So, he was playing games with them?"

"Yes," Tyler answers Voight's question; his sleeves remained rolled up as he tucks his hands into the front of his pants pockets, "He wanted them to know he was watching," his shoulders shrug, "It was all romantic gestures; he probably thought they could potentially be the one. They thought he was potentially the one and he used that against them."

Voight's mouth pressed into a straight line, "And you know this…how?" He's tense.

"I don't. I was just talking. Ignore that last part."

"…the part about the romantic gestures?" Voight questions as he scratches beneath his chin.

"Yes, it was all speculation; nothing to go on really."

Lindsay raises her hand, "So you really think that what you listed was even remotely romantic?"

"…think about it Erin," Tyler responds, turning away from Voight and sending the detective a wink of the eye, "wouldn't you find it romantic if a guy sent you presents, checked up on you through emails, was there for you in your time of need and did things to try and sweep you off your feet? You can't tell me that you wouldn't find any of that romantic."

"…not from someone I barely know."

Tyler shrugs, "Hmm, then I guess we'll have to agree to disagree."

"I guess we will."

Ruzek clears his throat –it's a clear sign that he has something to say next. When Tyler and the rest of Intelligence turn to face him, he leans back in his seat and sets his feet against the edge of his desk, "Let me get this straight; we have a perp who's looking for love."

"I guess you could say that."

Adam shakes his head in disbelief –his hands intertwined over his chest, "So we have a man who goes to the same nightclub looking for love and when he thinks he found it he tries to date them and when he realizes they aren't perfect, he kills them?"

"I don't know what changes in the relationship and why he kills them and it's possible he doesn't either." Tyler explains; he removes his hands from his pockets, "He could just like to kill. He could do it for sport or in the heat of the moment. It's up to us to find out."

"Regardless, this guy is sick in the mind."

Voight had no argument against that; however name-calling wasn't going to get this man caught. Investigating, locating and arresting him will; the sergeant stepped forward, snapped his fingers in Adam's direction before pointing towards Al, "Ruzek and Olinsky, take that case file," he points towards the opened file lying on Erin's desk, "and get me a warrant for the surveillance footage at the nightclub…maybe we can see our victims and who they came into contact with that night. I'm sure the footage will tell us something we're missing."

"We already have a description of him," Tyler chimed in.

Hank reaches onto Erin's desk to grab the file, "How do you even know the description of the perp Detective West?"

"Witnesses."

"Who are these witnesses?"

"I didn't record their names."

"So you don't know?"

"They wanted to remain anonymous just in case their names fell into the wrong hands."

Without further argument, Hank extends the file towards Olinsky, "Go get me that warrant." The second Al takes a hold of the file, he turns to face two of his other detectives, "Dawson and Atwater, I want you two to go talk to the family of the last victim. Find out who she went to the club with that night –even if they don't remember the name or description of the perp, maybe they can give us a race, height, hair color…something!"

"I said he was Asian," Tyler chimed back in.

"I know that." Voight nods as his team set out to follow through on his orders, "I know what you said; it's what you didn't say that has me curious. I need to know the witnesses otherwise we get nowhere." Hank is calm as he begins walking back towards his office, "Witnesses may not be the key piece of evidence used to lock this bastard up, but it's something. It's something we need."

"I'll work on it and see what I can find."

Voight opens his office door, "That's what I like to hear," Before stepping inside, he glances at his tech guy, "Mouse, when the warrant is issued, let me know." Mouse nods as his boss goes into his office; the door closes seconds behind his departure.

The boss was gone –detectives were sent out on orders. Tyler remained in the bullpen with the three detectives and their tech guy. He unbuttoned the top button on his dress shirt, before fanning himself; he was hot. He was the only person in the room who was hot; the temperature for everyone else was perfect. Brunette strands of hair slicked down onto Tyler's forehead as he grabbed a folder from the nearest desk –Ruzek's desk- to fan himself, "Is it hot in here or is it just me?" His joke falls flat on their ears; he has turned to face Erin, but her focus is on everything but him, "I'm telling you Erin;" the mention of her name earns her attention, "I'm an addictive guy, if you try me once, you're guaranteed to get hooked." Burgess almost chokes on her water. Her wide eyes turn to look at Mouse and they're both having a conversation without any words attached to it. Tyler practically offered himself up to Lindsay in front of her best friend and her own husband; he was confident –Burgess will definitely give that to him.

"No thanks; I'm not interested."

"Think about it," he encourages; there's a smug grin on his face. It speaks volume; it's basically saying that it knows she'll eventually come around.

Erin presses her hands together, "Look," her eyes are wide and there's not a hint of play in her voice, "don't let my sweet looks fool you Tyler; I have the mouth of a sailor and a zero tolerance for bullshit." She notices Mouse and Burgess pretending to fall into conversation in order to make the atmosphere in the room less awkward. Jay, on the other hand, didn't care about making things awkward. He watched –and he wanted Tyler and Erin to know he was watching. Lindsay looked down and pinched the bridge of her nose, "We're not doing this now, tomorrow, next week or ever. Leave it alone and let any idea of me and you together go."

"…that is what I like to hear," His response to her rejection has her confused; "You're definitely different than the previous women I've dated."

"You're here to help us with this case." Halstead jumped into the conversation; he's usually all for letting Erin fight her battles –since she seems to enjoy refusing anyone's help- but this time, Jay had to step in. He couldn't just continue to watch as Tyler blatantly flirts with his wife. Halstead's previous silence could have played a factor in why Detective West was being so pushy and persistent; maybe he figured since Jay wasn't speaking up, he didn't care.

"I'm fully aware."

"Don't cause trouble." Halstead points at him warningly.

"I wouldn't think of it," Tyler responded while ruffling up his damp and sweaty hair, "I'm just having a little fun." Sweat beads continued to drop from his hairline onto his forehead.

"Why don't you have fun with someone else's wife?"

"Come on," Tyler pats the detectives shoulder, "Jay, right? That's your name?"

"Yeah."

"I'm just poking fun. You're a guy. You understand."

"No, I don't." Halstead growls through clenched teeth before shoving Tyler's hand off his shoulder, "The only reason you're here is to assist us in investigating; stop playing games, especially with my wife."

Without further argument, Tyler steps back and throws his hands into the air in mock defeat. A smug grin is plastered on his face as he moves away from Halstead. Jay was red in the face –fuming. Tyler knew someone has had enough; he simply wipes his hands clean of the disagreement with Jay and turns back to Erin –the root of his argument with Halstead is clearly missed as he resumes his conversation with her, "Hey Erin," he smirks, "what's that on your neck?" He points towards the darkened shade of black –a bruise it looks like to him- on her neck. He isn't stupid; he knows what it is, but the look on her face and the immediate covering of it with her hands as she quickly walks off to the breakroom was priceless –he chuckles.

Erin walks into the breakroom and stressfully shoves one hand through her short, brunette hair. The other hand goes to her pocket and yanks out her cell phone. She immediately goes to the camera on it and turns the lens to face her; she's staring into her reflection and she hovers the camera over her neck.

"It's not that bad," she hears Jay say from behind her.

She shoves her phone back into her pocket, "Really?" There's a hint of annoyance in her voice as she turns to face him, "I covered this with makeup this morning. The collar of this damn shirt rubbed it off and you didn't tell me! I'm walking through this precinct with a hickey on my neck Jay! That's unprofessional and everyone's probably slut shaming me and thinking that I am purposely prancing around showing off marks from our sex life!"

"I doubt anyone is slut shaming you for a hickey caused by me, and it's barely noticeable Er."

She rolls her eyes, "Tyler seemed to notice it just fine."

"Yeah, well Tyler's an ass," Jay says it as if that explains why he was able to notice the hickey upon her neck; as if that's the common connection between being able to see it and not.

"I can't argue with you on that."

"I'm glad to hear that," the sarcasm in his words does not fall flat on her ears. She rolls her eyes at his mockery as he proceeds to go to the counter in order to get himself some coffee. Erin follows right behind him –the hickey on her neck a clear afterthought.

"What's wrong with you?"

He grabs the hot pot of coffee and pours it into his mug, "Nothing."

"You're mad."

"Of course I'm mad!" She jumps back when he unintentionally shouts at her; his mug of coffee forgotten as he slams it down against the counter. He takes a breath of air in order to calm himself down and his eyes glance up towards the ceiling in order to avoid her panicked expression, "I'm sorry for yelling. It's just…what man wouldn't be mad when another guy clearly disrespects his marriage and his wife by blatantly flirting with her in front of her own husband? He thinks our marriage is a joke Erin."

"Well, he's wrong."

"You need to make it clearer. Laughing and flirting back is only fueling his lust for you."

"I'm not flirting back!"

The sarcasm is back in his voice as he responds, "Of course you aren't!" He watches her storm towards the breakroom door and close it; they're both in silent agreeance that they want neither the team or Tyler to hear their argument, "You're barely saying anything! And if you don't defend our marriage, he's going to think it's a big joke. I don't know about you, but I take us, our vows, our life together and our love for one another serious."

"I do too."

Another calming breath is released out of his mouth, "I honestly can't tell."

"I don't know what you want me to say that I haven't already said!" Erin exclaims wrapping her arms behind her back and leaning against the closed door.

"I shouldn't have to get involved; you should be defending our marriage!"

"I made myself perfectly clear to him!"

"He thinks it's a game!"

She pushes herself away from the door and untangles her arms from behind her back, "Are we really arguing about a man we met less than 24 hours ago? Is he really worth the argument?"

"He's not worth the stress," Halstead agrees; he finally acknowledges his hot mug of coffee as he lifts it up and blows away the steam radiating from the scorching cup.

The coffee burns the back of his throat –he's usually not a straight, black coffee drinker, but this was the best substitute he had for alcohol. It was strong, bitter and one must definitely have an acquired taste for it. After one sip, he sets the mug down; his hands grip the edge of the counter and seconds later he feels Erin's arms wrap around him from behind, "There's absolutely no reason to be jealous Jay."

He's staring down into the black coffee, "I'm not jealous."

"Well then whatever you are stop it." She rises to the tip of her toes to kiss the back of his neck; she draws back and pulls her arms away afterwards, "It's not cute. Tyler is unimportant. You have nothing to worry about Halstead."

Jay stares forward at the bland cabinets hanging against the wall, "He flirts with you like I'm not even there. And it really pisses me off."

"Voight told him to stop."

"He obviously didn't listen to that."

Erin tugs onto the fabric of his shirt; she gently yanks him around, "You're my husband Halstead; I love you."

"I don't doubt that," He responds; his back leaning against the edge of the counter, "I don't doubt it at all. I love you too and I trust you, it's just him I don't trust when it comes to you."

"We haven't even known him that long."

"I'm just ready for this case to be over so he can go back to his district."

Jay's hands surround her wrists and he pulls her in close. She's just grateful this whole argument is over –she hated arguing with him. Her head is resting against his chest and her eyes peacefully close as his fingers comb through her shoulder-length hair. She feels the rhythm of his heartbeat against the ear that's rested against his chest; they're content. They can truly stay like that all day, but the second a hard knock beats against the door followed by the door being opened, they knew that their temporary solace was over.

"Hey," Voight leaned inside of the breakroom, "using West's case file got us the warrant for the surveillance footage at the nightclub." He fully steps inside, "I need you two to go meet Ruzek and Olinsky at the club to retrieve the footage and talk with the staff."

There is no argument; this is their job. Erin pulls away from Jay completely and heads out of the breakroom. Halstead empties the remainder of his coffee down the drain as he hears Voight approach him, "Is everything okay between you two?"

"Everything is fine," Jay sets his mug down in the sink, "I'll wash that when I get back."

"Is it Tyler?"

"It's nothing I can't handle," Halstead gives his father-in-law a kind smile as he backs out of the room, "Once we solve this case, he'll be gone."

"You're right!" Voight calls out; he wanted Detective West gone just as much as Halstead, "for right now, we need the help, but the sooner we close this case, the sooner he's out of here!"

Halstead grabbed his jacket draped from over the chair. He enjoyed the silence. Tyler was nowhere in the vicinity and his absence was definitely not missed. Once Erin grabbed her jacket, the two began proceeding down the stairs of the unit.

"Lindsay!" Platt calls out as soon as the gate is shut behind the couple. Erin meets the sergeant's eyes and she instinctively waves over the young detective –her husband trailing closely behind, "I only called Lindsay."

Jay got the hint, and after furrowing his brows, he turns to face his wife, "I'll get the car."

"Okay," Erin hands him the keys, "but don't get any ideas; I'm still driving!" Lindsay smiled when she heard her husband chuckle –much hasn't changed since the two got married. She still calls the shots, she still drives –most of the time- and she still runs most things. Erin grinned as her husband disappeared out of the precinct, but the smile slowly faded when she turned back to face Platt –her face emotionless and stoic- Lindsay's brows rise, "Okay, the way you're looking at me has me nervous," Erin crosses her arms on top of the sergeant's desk, "What was so secretive that he couldn't hear?"

"These came for you," Platt responds; she reaches below her desk and pulls out two dozen pink roses each set wrapped and tied with white ribbon.

"When?"

"…early this morning. I didn't want to say anything because," Platt nods her head in the direction Jay disappeared through, "…you know."

"Yeah," Erin sighs; she unfortunately did know. She gave the sergeant an appreciative smile because after her earlier argument with Jay, she knew these roses would spark another. Erin lifted up one set of the flowers, "These are pretty. Who are they from?"

"A card didn't come with it," Platt answers, watching as the detective gazes at each set. She hated to accuse or insinuate, but Platt needed to know, "Erin, you know I don't judge," a look immediately crosses Erin's face –it's a yeah right kind of expression, which forces Platt to tweak her words, "Okay, you know I don't judge you, but is everything okay? You know…in your marriage? Are you happy?"

"Very," Erin retorts, pushing the flowers as far away from her as possible, "Sergeant, you have the wrong idea. I'm not having an affair."

"If you were-"

"I'm not," Erin refused to entertain the idea; she would never cheat on Jay. She couldn't even imagine doing that to him –doing that to them. He meant entirely too much to her. Lindsay felt her cell vibrate in her pocket –it was probably Jay rushing her. She swallowed hard, "You can throw those in the trash."

"They're so beautiful."

Erin backs away from the sergeant's desk, "…then you keep them."

Platt picks the two dozen pink roses up; her wedding band shining on her ring finger as she holds the bouquet of flowers. She brings the roses close and takes a hard whiff of them, "its two dozen pink roses handpicked and delivered from the florist Erin. Someone paid a lot of money for these; it'll be a waste to throw them in the trash."

"Well, this person should have thought about that before sending flowers without a card or at least a name attached." Erin pushes the door of the main entrance open.

"…maybe it's from Jay," Platt retorts; she unravels the decorative tissue paper from around the stems being mindful not to prick herself on the thorns, "…maybe he wanted to surprise you? Or maybe he forgot to get a card attached?"

Erin shakes her head and before departing for good, she responds, "He wouldn't have forgotten. He definitely would have had a card attached. Look Sergeant, I really have to go. I have to serve a warrant and retrieve surveillance videos. Do what you wish with the flowers. They're yours." Lindsay gives her one last grin before leaving, before plastering a smile onto her face, before hopping inside the car and intentionally lying to Jay when he asked what Platt needed to say to her. She wasn't going to let pink roses –of all things- spark an argument in her marriage. And sometimes ignorance is bliss; not knowing something can sometimes benefit you in the end. Knowing every little thing –no matter how small, mediocre and unimportant- could possibly hurt you. She wasn't doing anything wrong, so why purposely hurt him, anger him or make him jealous? It was probably roses from a family who she helped. It could have been an incorrect delivery. There are millions of possibilities for the roses and none of them were important enough to get her husband involved.