Sam glanced up from the sample he was examining when he heard Quincy come in. "Any luck?" He asked.

"Might be on to something." Quincy told him as he exchanged his sport jacket for a lab coat. "Brackett wasn't able to give me much, so he suggested I go talk to the paramedics. Didn't get much out of them, either, not at first, anyway."

"Sorry to hear it." Sam responded.

"Well, here's the thing." Quincy continued, taking a seat at the table near Sam. "One of them caught up to me as I was leaving, wanted to talk to me privately."

Something clutched in Sam at that, but he hoped he managed to cover it. "Oh?"

"Yeah." Quincy nodded. "Said he might have recognized our latest victim. Him and his roommate, both. Guess they, uh, run in the same circles, if you know what I mean."

It would be quite the coincidence if that paramedic was Johnny. But surely Johnny wasn't the only fireman that ran in those circles. "Huh, that's good to know, I suppose."

"Yeah, we kind of came to the same conclusion." Quincy replied. "Someone's targeting that area. The paramedic said it'd be pretty easy for some creep to slip in there. Damn shame. Those people aren't hurting anybody. Now this sicko's got them scared for their lives."

Sam didn't have it in him to tell Quincy that he was one of those people. It wasn't any of his business, anyway. It didn't affect the way he did his work, no more than it affected how this paramedic did his.

"So anyway, I told him to call if he had any more information." Quincy continued. "He's got my direct line. Just hope I can convince Monahan that it's worth investigating."

Sam had his doubts. If three dead bodies weren't enough to convince him, more wouldn't matter, especially considering the source. "Would you take a look at this, Quince?"

Sam stepped aside to let Quincy examine the sample. "Asphyxiation. Same as the others."

"Exactly." Sam agreed. "The tox screen hasn't come back yet, but if it's anything like the others, that should come back clean."

"So this guy…and it's probably a guy, is somehow overpowering these guys and literally choking the life out of them." Quincy was half-talking to himself. "I don't know what goes on in those kinds of places, but I guess they can get pretty wild. Just like any other singles bar, right?"

"I don't know why you're asking me." Sam was automatically defensive. "I don't go out much."

Quincy stepped away from the microscope, waving a hand. "Rhetorical question. I know you better than that. I'm gonna go have a word with Monahan."

"Good luck with that." Sam muttered as he returned to examining his other samples. No sooner had Quincy left than the phone rang. Sam rose from his stool to answer. "Los Angeles County Coroner's Office, you've reached the lab."

"Sam." Johnny was on the other end, his voice low.

Sam glanced around the lab. Everyone else was engrossed in their own work. "I told you not to call me here."

"I know, I know." Johnny answered, clearly agitated. "But your boss was just in here. Had a bunch of questions about that run we covered in West Hollywood."

So the paramedic Quincy had been talking about was Johnny. "Well, I assume he didn't get too personal."

"Well, no, not really." Johnny seemed to calm down slightly. "I mean, I didn't say anything about knowing you or anything."

"I appreciate that."

Johnny huffed irritably. "Hell, Sam, I'm trying to keep my name out of this, too. I want them to find whoever's doing this, but I don't wanna stick my neck out to do it. And it's not like I would recognize the guy if I saw him, you know?"

"Relax, okay?" Sam wanted to assure him, if only so he could get Johnny off the phone before anyone got nosy. "I'm sure the police are going to be in no hurry to investigate, anyway."

"Well yeah, I know that, and you know that." Johnny answered. "Your boss seems pretty goddamn determined, though."

"My boss also isn't a police officer." Sam pointed out. "He doesn't have that kind of power."

Johnny let out another short sigh. "Hey, I've gotta go. We've got a run. Meet me tomorrow?"

"Maybe."

There was a brief pause before Johnny spoke again. "Okay. Bye."

The line went dead, and Sam hung up the phone, returning to his work. There was something more to this than Johnny's usual tendency to get whipped up over nothing. Something had him genuinely spooked.

He shouldn't be concerned with this. Johnny was just some guy Sam took home occasionally, nothing more. And yet, here he was, wondering just what on earth had Johnny so bothered.

Whatever it was would probably pass by the time they met up next, and they would have their usual enjoyable time together. If for some reason Johnny was still agitated, well, Sam would deal with it then, he supposed.

He needed to stop doing this. Not that his encounters with Johnny weren't pleasurable, but the man wasn't serious about much of anything. Sure, that had been fine at first, but Sam wanted something more, and he wasn't going to find that at the bar, certainly not with a man like Johnny.

But what was the alternative? It wasn't as if there were other places Sam could go to find the companionship he sought.

He sighed heavily to himself. Perhaps he could find a different bar, avoiding Johnny completely. But if he were being honest with himself, he wasn't sure he wanted that. Johnny was good company most of the time, even if he talked too much and went off on ridiculous tangents.

"Sam?" Marc called from across the room. "I need another set of eyes. Come take a look at this."

Sam was only too happy to tear himself away from his own case to help Marc out. It would be just the distraction he needed and would allow him to get some distance from what he was working on.

And maybe he'd quit thinking quite so much about Johnny, too.

# # #

He found himself back at that same club that evening. Sure, there were other places, but none quite like this one. This one was different, somehow. He'd known that the first time he walked in here, a man on a mission.

Tonight's mission was no different. The orders came from above, he was merely a faithful servant, doing the Lord's bidding. Rid the earth of this degenerate filth, those that refused to bow down and obey the teachings of the book he lived by.

It was getting harder and harder not to get corrupted. The lights, the music, the atmosphere, it was as if it had been designed by Satan himself to tempt those weaker vessels, those weaker than himself. No, he would stand strong in the face of such temptation. He knew why he was here.

He took a seat at the bar, scanning the room. The bartender sauntered up to him and flashed him a smile. "What'll you have, honey?"

He winced inwardly at the endearment but hoped it didn't show. "A ginger ale, please. Trying to keep my wits about me tonight."

The bartender seemed briefly puzzled, then shrugged. "Coming right up. Would you like to start a tab?"

"No, thank you." He would pay cash, as he always did, leaving no trace. He had to be careful not to arouse suspicion.

The bartender soon returned, setting down a napkin and a glass. "That'll be a dollar fifty."

He handed him a five-dollar bill and awaited his change. Almost as soon as the bartender handed it back, someone plopped down on a stool not too far down.

It was him, the man he'd spotted the first time he'd come in here. That dark, unruly hair and lanky build was unmistakable. He remembered that the man's friend had come in shortly thereafter, forcing him to change his plan that night.

This time, however, he seemed to be mostly alone, save for a few men that came up to greet him. He was so casual with them, squeezing a shoulder here, grazing his fingers up a back there, leaning in for brief conversations before sending them off with that smile of his.

Stop it. He scolded himself. Do not allow yourself to become corrupted. Remember your mission.

The young man suddenly seemed to notice him, greeting him with a nod and a smile before sliding off his stool to sit next to him. "Mind if I join you?" He asked.

"I suppose not." He managed a smile in return. "Are you waiting for someone?"

He glanced around. "I was, but I think I've been stood up. Name's John. Can I, uh, get you something?"

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. But he knew he had to be flexible. He had learned that long ago. "I'll take another ginger ale."

John laughed. "You're a cheap date. I like you already. Don't think I caught your name."

"I prefer to remain anonymous."

"A mystery man, huh?" John seemed greatly amused by that. "Fine with me."

He flagged down the bartender, ordering himself another beer along with the ginger ale. "I don't like getting blasted, myself. Some of these guys, you almost have to drag them out of here at the end of the night. Kinda puts a damper on the fun, know what I mean?"

He nearly recoiled at John's implication. These men were truly degenerates, engaging in such open debauchery. He managed to keep his thoughts to himself, or so he hoped. "Indeed."

The bartender set down their drinks, and John immediately took a couple of swallows, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "So, hey, I don't think I've seen you in here before."

"No, probably not." He laughed. "The last time I was here, I was going to come talk to you, but your friend showed up."

"Sam, yeah." John nodded. "He's the one who stood me up tonight."

"Is he your…companion?"

John scoffed at that. "Nah. We meet up, we talk, sometimes we go to his place, sometimes we go to mine. It's not, you know, an exclusive thing."

"I see." John would be an easy target. He'd suspected so the first time he saw him. He was no different from the others he had dealt with, and he would make sure the world was free from this one's corrupting influence, as well.

John shrugged casually. "I mean, I like the guy, don't get me wrong. But I don't think he likes me all that much."

"And yet you still…go home with him."

"Sure." John answered before taking another swig of his beer. "I like to have a good time as much as anybody. No reason to turn down a chance to get laid. And he is pretty damn good in bed."

Good grief, the man did like to talk. He'd best get on with this.

He finished the remains of his ginger ale and managed what he hoped was his most charming smile. "Well, I think I'm ready to get out of here. Wouldn't want you to have to drag me out of here."

John eyed him up and down. A brief smile quirked at his lips as he arched an eyebrow. "Ready whenever you are."

This was almost too easy. Disgustingly easy. "I'll leave first. Count to ten, then meet me outside."

He slid down from the barstool and headed for the door, stepping just outside and lighting a cigarette while he waited. Eight, nine, ten.

"Hey." John's voice was right behind him.

"Hello." He took one last drag and tossed the cigarette to the ground, crushing it with his heel. "Do you have somewhere in mind?"

John shoved his hands in his pockets. "My place is a bit of a drive, but it's, uh, private. No one's gonna bother us."

"That's fine." He didn't like going out of the area, but perhaps it would be better this way. It would arouse less suspicion, although so far there had been little coverage of his activities.

But he wasn't doing this for mere media attention. No, he was doing this for the glory of God. Whether mankind noticed was beside the point.

John took a memo pad and a pen out of his shirt pocket and wrote something down, ripping off the piece of paper and handing it to him. "Here you go. Should be pretty easy to find. I'll be waiting."

He took a look at the address before folding the piece of paper and tucking it into his own shirt pocket. "I'll be there."

John nodded at that before turning and striding toward wherever he was parked. If he left now, he would probably be able to meet him and get this over with.

This one was a bit of a challenge, admittedly. But God wouldn't give him anything he wasn't capable of handling. God gave the greatest challenges to His fiercest warriors, and he wouldn't let Him down.

# # #

He pulled into the parking lot at the address John had given him, finding an open space. Was John already here? He had no idea.

He should have followed him, at least far enough to know what kind of vehicle John drove. That was a mistake on his part, one he wouldn't make again. Never again would he allow one of them to outwit him.

Now he was angry, angry that he had been made a fool. More deceit, more trickery. Such was the way of the devil. All the more reason to remove this particular creature from the earth, to never allow him to draw another into his web of deceit.

He calmed himself before climbing out of his vehicle and entered the building, finding the apartment and knocking quietly on the door. The door swung open, revealing John, who greeted him with that infernal little smile, the same one he used to charm so many others over the course of the evening.

"Hey, come on in. Sorry, it's kind of a mess." John told him. "Been working a lot and haven't had much of a chance to clean up."

It wasn't so bad. Better than he expected, given John's slovenly appearance. But again, he wasn't here for the décor. He had far more important business, and he would not allow himself any further distractions.

"No need to explain." He told John as he closed the door behind him. "I'm sure you're a hard-working man. You need your rest."

John once again looked him up and down, stirring up that terrible feeling. No, he would not succumb to temptation. This was a test. He had to stay strong, for Him.

John caught him before he could move away from the door, trapping him between his body and the door, stroking his cheek with his thumb. The move sent that same awful feeling through him, a sinful, dirty feeling.

Man shall not lay down with man, this is the law. Those words rushed through his mind, a reminder of his mission.

He reached up, his hand curling around the side of John's neck, his thumb stroking along his throat. He could feel the strong pulse underneath, imagining how it would feel when that pulse slowed, then stopped, how righteous it would be to have one less degenerate walking the earth.

John let out a breath, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he tilted his head back. Vile, disgusting man, he actually seemed to like this.

He pressed harder on that pulse point with his thumb, evoking a sharp intake of breath from John, and his eyes flew open. "Hey now, take it easy."

His voice was soft, but with an edge to it. He was scared. Good. He should be.

"I apologize." He told John smoothly, pulling his hand away.

John's expression softened, the fear that had flashed there ever so briefly gone now, his lips curving into that smile that had drawn so many to him at the bar. "Listen, I'm into it, don't get me wrong. But you've gotta build up to it. Like this."

John's hand slid to his throat, thumb and fingers stroking upward along either side of his trachea, finding those points he himself was oh so familiar with, so well-practiced. He had not expected to have it turned against him. Another test, further proof of the devil tempting him.

Prayer, prayer would grant him the strength he needed to fulfill his mission. He automatically started reciting the verses he had been raised with in a hushed, reverent tone. "'No weapon formed against you shall prosper, and every tongue which rises against you in judgment you shall condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord, and their righteousness is from Me,' says the Lord."

"Goddamn, you are a freak." John murmured as he pulled back slightly.

"Do not take the Lord's name in vain." He hissed, suddenly finding the strength he needed. In one quick move, he pushed John away, causing him to stumble back.

The confused expression on John's face was priceless. He had him where he wanted him now. Soon the world would be rid of one more wretched piece of filth.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" John demanded. "Look, if you wanna leave, leave. I'm not gonna force you into anything."

"Correct, you're not." He told him sharply, striding toward him and shoving him again with greater force. This time John staggered, unable to recover his footing, and fell to the floor with a hard thump.

"Jesus." John groaned. "The hell'd you do that for?"

"Be quiet." He replied, straddling John before he could get up from the floor. He had to calm himself, regain control. "Please, forgive me. I sometimes forget myself."

John still looked confused, but nodded, reaching out to tug at his shirt, his hands finding their way underneath. "I get it. Sometimes you just get caught up in the moment, right?"

"You understand me." He told John softly, stroking his throat. "So few people do."

He found those pressure points again, pressing just hard enough to cause John's eyes to flutter closed, a soft breath escaping him. As soon as he let go, those dark eyes fluttered open again, that half-smile spreading across his face. "Think you've got the idea."

"You like that."

"Oh yeah." John's breaths were coming short and fast.

"Again?"

John nodded. "Again."

"Ah, ah, manners." He scolded. "Again, please."

The lust in John's eyes was obvious. "Again, please."

Pervert, he thought. But weren't they all? Disgusting, filthy perverts. They deserved this and more.

He squeezed a little harder this time, a little longer, watching as those eyes fluttered closed once again. Everything was under control now. He had John right where he wanted him.

Once again, he let go, and John gasped sharply, his eyes going wide before he let out a short laugh. "Careful, you're gonna give me brain damage. Have enough of that as it is."

"John, John, John." He whispered. "It's such a shame it has to end this way. Such a shame."

Realization seemed to dawn on John, but it was too late. It had been too late back when John had first approached him.

No, before that, even. It had been too late from the moment he had spotted John that first night. Everything had been set in motion, and John hadn't realized it.

"John, you were born a sinner." He told him as he started squeezing. "And now you'll die a sinner."

John's breath started coming short and fast, the panic obvious, and he grabbed his wrist with surprising strength, attempting to tear his hand away.

He was fighting back. He was actually fighting back. This was surely the devil's work.

He had severely underestimated his enemy. Now John was squirming under him, trying to throw him off, to escape his grip. But he had to know he wouldn't get away so easily. "You will not escape." He hissed. "You will never be free. Get thee behind me, Satan!"

He found himself flung away. No, no, this couldn't be. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. He had God on his side, and He wouldn't let him fight alone. He was far more powerful than the satanic forces that clearly drove John.

John slowly sat up, pushing back his hair, his chest heaving. "Get out. Now."

"No." He told him, the righteous fury rising inside him. "No, John."

He threw himself at John before he had a chance to get up, slamming his head hard against the floor. Now was his chance. He squeezed hard, as hard as he could, watching, waiting as John fought and squirmed under him until he was finally still.

He scrambled to his feet, staring down at the man sprawled out on the floor, unmoving. He had to trust that he'd completed his mission. There was no time to waste. He'd wasted too much time as it was fighting someone who should have been easily subdued.

His mind raced as he tried to leave as quietly as he could, closing the door behind him and slipping out of the building. He was furious with himself. This should have been so easy. John was so slim, so delicate in appearance that he looked as if he might blow away in a stiff breeze.

But no, he'd fought back. He'd fought back. Not like those other sissies, the ones who had succumbed so easily. And now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure he had actually succeeded in his mission. If John somehow survived, he had no one to blame but himself.

He took a deep breath and started the car, pulling out of the parking lot and out onto the road. Hopefully He would forgive him this transgression. Surely, He understood what he had been up against.

Next time, he would not fail.