She leaned her head into the firm support of the steering wheel and let out a long ragged breath. The call had come in early that morning. To be exact, it was 4:45 when the blare of her bed-side phone tore through her slumber. Not that her sleep was all that peaceful anyway. She lifted her head and leaned back into the soft cushion of her seat as another sigh was expelled from her lips. Her mind, still slightly elapse with the remanents of sleep, attempted to sort out the events of the previous days. So much had happened, so much had changed. She didn't even want to think about it all. She glanced at the clock. The neon green digits were screaming it was 5:15.

"Unbelievable." Rita muttered to herself as she stepped out of the car and into the cool morning air. The rain had brought a heavy fog. It hung low in the air and seem to cling to everything it touched, consuming it. Rita inhaled deeply and attempted to stifle a yawn as a gust of wind, laden with the essence of the sea, whipped through her hair. She looked up then, and through the morning haze was able to make out the distinct figures of two men. She silently approached.

Chris stood over the body, his arms shoved deep in his pockets. He wasn't looking at her however, the body of this once beautiful young woman, no, he was staring at the ocean. His eyes, as blue as the waves that crashed upon the rocky shore, mirrored the raging tide's anger. He closed his eyes for a long moment and allowed him self to feel the salty Atlantic air that rushed against his skin. His mind was in disarray. Too much was happening too fast. Within the course of forty eight hours his entire universe had some how managed to turn itself on its axis, leaving him dangling from the rafters, clutching desperately to the few remaining strands of what used to be such a familiar world. His partner, his best friend, had slipped away. Hell, he had pushed her, and in a panicked effort to get her back he had gotten too close. Way too close. All this was caused by a past Chris thought he had buried long ago. But the dead had risen, and was back in the form of the man standing next to him.

Vince stared down at the body, his face resembling the cold granite of an ashen crypt. He inhaled a breath through thin lips that were clinched tight with malice. Six. The number rolled repetitively through his mind. This made six. The sixth victim. The second to die. It made his stomach churn. The sight of the small, disfigured body of somebody's daughter laying naked in the sand. Her blood staining the white beach a sickening shade of brown. Moreover, it was the fact that the son of a bitch that did it was still out there. Vince made himself look away. He ran his hand over his face and his sandy eyebrows furrowed as he directed his attention to the near by coroners.

"Let's get her bagged up!" His voice was cold too, cold like the body.

As Rita walked up the beach, she took a deep breath to ready herself. If this scene was anything like the first one it was not going to be an easy thing to see. "What do we got?" She asked the question, despite the fact she already knew, as she came to stand with the other two detectives. Their attention turned to her as she spoke.

"Number six." Vince stated as he walked past Chris and Rita. He went up the shore line, the direction the M.E was coming from. Rita's gaze rested on the hellish scene for a moment; she had been right it wasn't any easier, then came up to meet her partner's. Her eyes spoke a silent request, and Chris complied.

"Jane Doe, " He spoke softly. "No I.D. No witnesses." His mouth produced the words automatically as he looked into her eyes. His mind couldn't have been further away form the topic at hand. He lost himself in the two green pools. How on earth was it possible for her to look this beautiful, this early in the morning. He watched as her eyes returned to the body again, and he missed them. She shook her head gently at the sight and her chestnut tresses danced about her face in such a way it made his fingers burn just to touch her. Chris remembered how it felt, to have his fingers intertwined in the strands of pure silk. How it felt to touch her, to taste her.

He remembered how it felt to get too close.

Rita's eyes came up to his only to find he had been looking at her. Not just looking, staring. Staring the way he had been last night when he shoved her back into his kitchen counter. Staring the way he had been when he was running his hand over her breast, up her thigh, ravishing every inch of her with a mouth of pure fire. It made her breath catch in her throat, the thought of how dark his eyes had been. How dark they were now! Jesus, they were like that again!! That deep indigo that turned her insides to liquid pyre.

It was too damn early for this. She forced her eyes away, to look at the coroners that were now lifting the body onto the gurney. It was at that moment Vince returned, she had never been so relieved to see him.

"Ya find any thing?" She was surprised her voice came out as clear as it did. She could still feel her partners eyes burning into her, and her skin ached for his hands to fallow suit.

"Yeah actually." Vince stated as he held the over sized zip-lock bag up for the other two to see. There was a bit more enthusiasm in his voice now.

"The victims clothing?" Chris questioned as tore his eyes form his partner, to examine the evidence bag.

"Forensics just found 'em, they were in a dumpster in the parking lot. They also found this." Vince then produced smaller bag. "Ticket stub." He stated as he handed it to Rita.

"You think that's the victims blood on it?" Chris said as he regarded the small sample of evidence over Rita's shoulder.

"Or the killers." Vince stated in response. "Either way, this may be what we've been waiting for."

The hollows of darkness that lurk within the very soul of man hold infinite secrets yet to be reveled. Save but one element: Fear. It has a face, a being. It can be a friend and protect, or an enemy and devour.

Who knows what fears may bring.

The thought of that question in itself can be enough to destroy a man. It was destroying a man. Chris leaned back in his chair as he waited for his partner to enter the office. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to say when he saw her. Rita was his best friend, she deserved the truth. But the truth would hurt her, she didn't deserve that.

He had hurt her.

He had walked away form her for the first, and only time in four years. Not literally. Literally, he had been holding her so close it was a wonder she was still able to breathe. It was what he had said, or didn't say. It made him feel sick, the thought of those beautiful green eyes brimming with tears. Tears he had caused. And the pain. Chris' heart ached at the memory, the look in her eyes. It was then he realized that no secret in the world was worth causing her that kind of pain. He was going to tell her. He had to tell her. The truth. It was the only thing that could save their friendship. The only thing that could save his sanity.

The only thing that could kill the fears.

"Hey Sam." Rita regarded her partner as she took her seat behind the desk across from him. She looked up when she didn't get an answer from him and her eyes narrowed a bit. Rita studied him carefully. His eyes were cast to some point on the floor and he was tapping his pen, lightly against the desk. He was lost in thought, she knew that much. The question was, what about? About last night, that's what!!! Her mind screamed a non too pleasant reminder, and a stab of torment tore through her. Last night, he had said goodbye. He hadn't said that exactly, but he might as well have.

He was keeping something from her. Something so terrible he would rather walk away form four years than tell her. He didn't trust her. It was the only thought Rita could process. He didn't trust her, and he didn't love her. She could feel the moisture forming behind her eyes. The sting caused by tears of pain. She swallowed hard. So this is the way her world ends, not with a bang, but a whimper. She looked down at her desk as an inadvertent sigh escaped her lips. Chris' eyes shot up.

"Oh, hey Sammy!" Chris' voice held a hint of surprise. He watched as her head lifted a bit to meet his gaze. She was beautiful, his voice threatened to fail him. "So is Vince here yet?" He willed his words not to shake.

"No, he stopped off at Forensics with the ticket stub. He wanted to get a blood analysis before we plan any other moves." Her voice did shake. It was subtle, but Chris picked up on it the instant she opened her mouth. Dear God no. She had been crying, or was about to cry. Dear God please no! Chris didn't think his fucked up heart could take it. He had to say something, quick. The hurt in her voice was more than he could bare. No sooner than her mouth had opened, his voice came.

"Rita we need to talk." His voice sounded urgent in Rita's ears. Oh Jesus here it comes!! Her mind screamed the scenarios: I don't want to be your partner any more... I don't want you in my life anymore... Last night I was just looking for a good fuck... I don't want you... I don't trust you... I don't love you. The sound of his voice tore through her raging mind when he spoke again.

"Will that be Ok?" His voice still sounded a little exigent, and it was all Rita could do to nod her head yes. So this is the way her world ends. A phone rang, some where far away.

"Lorenzo." Chris answered still holding his partners distant gaze. "Ok we'll meet ya in there." The receiver descended from his ear and was re-cradled on the desk. "Vince wants to meet us in I-3."

"When?" She was unaware she'd spoken.

"Now." She was unaware he'd replied.

So this is the way the world ends

Silence reigned in Interrogation Room number three. Chris and Rita sat on opposite sides of the small table in the center of the room. He chewed his pen, she fidgeted with her hands, and silence reigned. The crack of the door opening was the first sound to penetrate the room, and at it, Chris stood up and began to pace the floor. His eyes narrowed as he watched a third detective enter the room.

"It's about damn time." The words were nearly spat form his lips.

"Don't get your panties in a knot Lorenzo." Vince stated as he slapped a small stack of manilla folders on the table. "I didn't think the tests would take so long, but then, I forgot about this half ass department ya got down here."

At that Chris was about to retort but, he caught a glance from his partner, however and thought better of it. "Well, let me see what they found." He stated instead and picked up one of the three folders.

"The blood on ticket matched our victims, we still don't have an I.D. though." Vince took a seat in what used to be Chris' chair and opened the second folder to reveal the ticket stub, still in the zip-lock bag.

"No prints?" Rita asked as she regarded the evidence Vince was holding.

"Just the girls."

"Well one things for sure this bastard's careful." Chris dropped the folder he had been studying on the table.

"No shit." Vince mumbled as he opened the third folder, revealing the composite sketches he had retrieved the day before. As he did this he disregarded the small evidence bag, and Rita was allowed her first good look at it.

"Vince, what was the name of the club you and Lia were at the night before she was killed?" She asked the question as she studied the small ticket.

"The night before she died..." Vince was quiet for a moment, an attempt to push down the sudden, unforeseen flood of emotions wrought by Rita's question. "We had been going to clubs all week, and decided to take a break. We went to some late night coffee bar instead."

"The Living Room?"

"Yeah I think that was the name of it I..." Vince's voice trailed off once again and his face took on the look as if he had witnessed an apparition.

"I think we just pinpointed the hunting grounds." Rita slid the small bag across the table to Chris. He picked it up and noted the small emblem of a couch through the blood stain.

"Did you get something like this Kelly?" He held the stub up in front of Vince's face, a smug grin had suddenly appeared on his lips. Chris was more than a little satisfied that one of them had picked up this vital piece of information before Vince did.

"Yeah, we did." Vince stated flatly as he snatched the bag form Chris' hands. He stood abruptly and threw a glare of spite directly at him. Chris held the look with an equal amount of contempt. His mouth had just opened ready with a perfect piece of sarcasm when Rita cut in.

"I want to go in." That got their attention. Both pairs of eyes snapped around to meet her gaze. Rita was leaning back in her chair, arms folded across her waist, the picture of comfort.

"What!!" Chris exclaimed. Was he mistaken or had his partner just lost her mind.

"You heard me." Rita stated, her demeanor never faltering.

"Rita, You can't be serious!!!" Now he was sure she had lost her mind.

"As a heart attack Chris." Rita looked him straight in the eyes as she spoke and all Chris could do was shake his head. He knew that look. Sheer and utter determination. Nothing short of a freight train was going to stop her. She was so damn hard headed!!

"I think it's a great idea." Vince's enthused, and slightly mocking voice, broke the small silence that had arisen in the room. That did it.

"I think you should kiss my ass!" Chris turned to Sgt. Kelly firing a look of pure venom. Vince's hands immediately went up as he backed away, he wasn't about to play the bad guy on this one.

"Chris!!" Rita stood as she attempted to get her partner's attention. Chris' eyes slowly returned to hers, and they pleaded for her to resign.

"We're talkin' about a serial killer Sammy." Chris lowered his voice and wished to God Vince wasn't in the room with them.

"Exactly Chris. What other way is there, this may be our only shot." Her voice lowered as well as she held her partners gaze. Chris saw nothing but determination in those green depths.

"Fine." Chris mumbled as he shook his head. The world was rolling over again.

"It's decided then." Vince stated as he folded his arms across his chest.

"Yeah." Rita nodded as she continued to hold her partners gaze. "We go in tonight."

Once upon a time, Vincent Kelly enjoyed spontaneity. He thrived off of it in fact. That was, of course, before a certain incident transpired eight years ago. Now, he was a changed man. Evolution had dragged his ass to the complete opposite end of the spectrum. Now do detail could be left without investigation.

One minute detail was the reason he was now standing at the locked door of the Living Room Cafe. The hours were clearly painted on the plate glass door: Mon-Sat 7pm-3am, but still Vince peered through the half open blinds. It was 5:00. His watch told him that, but you wouldn't know it to look around. The sky was dark. Dark and looming, and the wind was picking up. Another storm was approaching. He looked through the glass once again, this time to see the bartender shaking his head and overdramatically gesturing that the place was closed.

So tell him something he didn't know.

Vince however had a remedy for such a situation. In one swift motion he unclipped his badge from his belt and slapped in against the glass, clearly mouthing:

"Open the damn door."

Immediately upon seeing the badge; as well as catching Vince's insistent request, the stout, slightly balding man made his way to the door, a nervous smile graced his bearded face.

"What can I do for you officer?" He stood in the threshold, barring Vince's entry. Vince looked the man over. He was a portly little bastard, draped in that rayon material form head to toe. He smelled of cheap cologne, liquor and the faintest hint of Italian sausage.

"It's Sgt." Vince stated as he deliberately pushed his way past the chubby blockade.

"Oh sorry, Sgt." The bartender corrected himself and then repeated "What can I do for you?"

Vince surveyed the empty cafe. There was a small dance floor in the center of the room surrounded by large sofas with oversized pillows. Against the far left wall was a small area set up for a D.J. and to the left of that was the bar. It was just as he remembered it, that night he had came here with Lia. That night they had come to this disguised killing field.

"Uhh Sgt?" The slightly horse voice of the bartender pulled Vince form his daze.

"I need to ask you a few questions." Vince responded as he abruptly turned to face him. The stocky man nodded and Vince proceeded.

"Do you work here every night?"

"Yeah just about. I own the place."

"So you open and close up?"

"Yes sir."

"Have you ever seen this man?" Vince then produced the black and white composite form his inside coat pocket and held it up for the bartender to see. Vince watched as the man's beady little eyes narrowed into almost unnoticeable slits. He ran his hand over his beard a couple of times and his eyes returned to 'normal' size as he returned his gaze back to Vince.

"Yeah I've seen him."

"You're sure about this, you've seen this man." Vince folded the drawing and repocketed it.

"No doubt. He's been in here about three of four times this week, always around 10:00. I figured he was a record exec. or photographer, the way he was praying on all the girls and stuff."

Vince glared at the crooked grin that had formed on the owner's face.

"You know you're half right." With that Sgt. Kelly turned and walked out the cafe. From behind, the fat man hollered some inane inquiry as to what the man in the sketch had done, however Vince did not regard him. The final detail had been checked. Tunnel vision was in place.

He waited silently in the dim light of the hall outside her apartment. A hollow man waited. There was something that could be said for the emptiness he felt; nothing hurts when there's nothing's there. There's nothing to fear. But hollow men, when they should endure, they fail. Sink in the trial. Drown in the emptiness. Succumb to the fear that only lay in wait. Hidden.

Chris didn't want to be hollow any more. The fear made him hollow, and the secretes made the fear. One thing alone could make him whole. The truth; she was his truth. How dense was he that it took him four God-damned years to realize it! He lifted his fist to knock on her door for what would be the third time.

"Rita, it's Chris. Open up!!" He called out to her this time, but still, there was no reply. A frown slowly shaded his brow as he took out his keys.

The warm spray of water was welcome against her tired body. She shouldn't be this exhausted. The last forty eight hours had taken their toll. Within the course of that short time she had managed to lose her ability to reason, her self control, her element of sleep, and her best friend. All in that order. It was as if she had somehow managed to step blindly into the gloomy circle of some desolate abyss; in which her life had become the complete antithesis of what it was before. Now, she was lost in the gallows of abandonment and despair. Rita felt angry, frustrated and scared, but most of all, she felt hollow.

She lifted her head into the warm spray of the shower then, wishing away the confusion in her mind. She needed to focus on the task that lie ahead. There was a crazed mad man on the loose who just so happened to be raping and killing young women. When she stepped in the shower it had been 6:55. That gave her a good two hours to prepare. Vince had called earlier and they had decided to meet up at 9:00. If she learned nothing else about him, which she hadn't, one thing she knew for sure, Sgt. Vince Kelly was punctual. Make that punctual with a really bad sense of timing. Rita shut off the water then, before her thoughts could further remain on the events of the previous night.

"Focus damn it." She chided herself as she stepped from the tub and encased her self in her favorite deep green bath robe.

Chris quickly made his way up the spiral stair case. He took the steps two at a time as the small surge of panic began to well in his gut. Not a sound was coming form the path ahead, all was quiet, way too quiet. Then he heard it, the sound flooding his ears and stopping him in his tracks at the final step. The loud scream of a blowdryer.

"Hey Rita!!" Chris called out over the blaring noise as he entered her room. Rita turned from the mirror with a start at the sound of his voice.

"Jesus Chris, you scared the hell out of me!" She breathed as she clicked off the hair dryer. She sat the offending machine on the dresser and returned her gaze to his. Their eyes locked.

"Sorry." She heard him speak and the sound seemed to echo in her mind. His eyes had no right to be that blue. She could feel herself falling into their depths, but there was no end.

"What are you doing here? It's early." Rita could hear herself speak, but wasn't really sure how she got the words out.

She looked confused. Soft, beautiful, and confused. "You said it'd be Ok for me to come by early. You know, so we could talk." It almost hurt to look at her. Almost. Her hair was still a little damp, and tasseled. It hung in a fragile disarray about her face. The emeralds that masqueraded as her eyes were wide, and dark. And her skin was flushed. A gentle rose hint in her cheeks and a spray across her chest. Chris could feel her warmth. He was half way across the room but he could literally feel her hot skin against his own. Christ have mercy, there was only so much a mortal man could endure.

Had she agreed to that? It wouldn't have been that difficult to believe. She had spent most of the day in some ethereal trance. He must have asked her during her 12:15 black out, or maybe before. "Oh yeah, talk... about..." Rita wasn't quite sure how or when her feet had starting moving, but some how the distance between them was growing smaller. She stopped herself, purposely, about two feet away form him.

"About last night." Chris nearly chocked on the words. Her small pilgrimage had not gone unnoticed, nor did it fail in having certain effects.

"Oh.." That single word fell form her lips and carried an undertone of pain that was more than Chris could bare. He now found his own feet moving, closing the distance between them. His arms rose on their own accord and finally, she was where he needed her to be.

She was surrounded, completely encased in him. She could feel his heart beating, his chest rising with every breath he took. "Chris..." Rita spoke into his chest and tried to keep her voice from trembling. She could feel his hands sliding down her back, and her skin burned at the sensation. Her eyes slipped shut as his lips found her neck, just below her ear; her knees felt week.

"No, I need you to hear this Sam." He cut her off as he pulled away slightly. He tried for a moment to convey with his eyes that which his voice was afraid to. Terrified to.

"It's not what you think." It's funny, it had all been so clear in his mind five minutes ago. Now all his thoughts seemed to be obscured, lost in an ever widening gyre, the center could not hold. Chris heard her sigh, and a wave of heat shot clear through him. Coherent thought was fleeing fast.

"What do you mean Sam?" She looked into his eyes and saw him fighting a battle within. She attempted to back away, but his arms only tightened around her.

"I don't know any more Rita." Chris could feel her body molding against his own, and it was all he could do to stifle a moan. His eyes slipped shut as his mouth descended onto hers on what seemed to be its own recognosce.

The first touch of his lips against hers was electric. Rita could literally feel the waves of lustful energy shooting through her spine, and she let herself give in to it. She let herself give in to the feel of his body pressing hot, and hard against her own, the feeling of his hands as they wandered over her. But it was over far too soon. Chris pulled away and Rita could hear the blood rushing in her head as her eyes fluttered open.

"It's not what you think Sammy." The words were exhaled in a scorching breath against her neck. Rita didn't know whether to push him back on the bed at that moment, or beat the ever living shit out of him. The former was seeming the best option due to the fact that his tung was doing the most amazing things to her ear. However, she managed to settle for words.

"Why can't you talk to me." Her voice was dripping with desire. Chris pulled away slightly and took her face in his hands.

"I'm scared Rita. I can't lose you." Had Rita heard right, he was afraid of losing her.

"That'll never happen Chris." The words were whispered against his lips and Chris thought he would lose it then and there.

"But the secrets?" He couldn't help but moan the words when he felt her hands come to rest against his stomach. He had to taste her again. He attempted to bring her back up to him but he felt her fingers rest lightly against his lips.

"It's in the past Sam. Whatever it is, it doesn't matter any more." Rita wasn't sure how she was able to speak. His hands had once again begun to wander and had found their way around her hips. She could feel the heat of his touch through the fabric of her robe and her body pined for it. "All that matters, is now." Her final words were spoken in no more than a breath as Chris' hands descended further down her body to gently grip her ass. Her pushed her body against his hardened form in a manner so erotic Rita thought she would faint. It was torture, sweet torture, to be so close to the edge without barely taking a step. She wasn't sure how much more she could withstand.

Chris could hear the quickening in her breath, see the redness in her cheeks, feel the urgency in her body. She wanted this just as bad as he did. That thought alone was enough to nearly send him over. He pulled her mouth up to his in a kiss that was nothing less than desperate. Her mouth parted and Chris wasted no time in entering it. She tasted incredible, like so many things Chris couldn't attempt to describe them all. He just wanted more. He could feel himself moving backwards as he tore his hands form her body to quickly remove his sports jacket. The shirt he wore followed seconds later as he felt the bed behind him. Her mouth was on his skin then. On his shoulders, his chest, along with her hands tasting and caressing every inch of him. She was driving him insane. Chris felt his already hardened stomach muscles tighten even more as her hands skimmed over them to rest at his belt. With an agony he hadn't imagined possible he felt the binding of his pants come loose. Lord help him, this would be his undoing. Her hands found his engorged member and Chris knew this couldn't last long, at least, not while she was doing that. It was all he could do to moan her name as he took hold of her wrists to still her motions.

The look in his eyes was searing as he gripped her wrists. So was his mouth when he brought them up to his lips. In seconds her robe was shed and Rita stood bare before him. She watched as Chris drank the sight of her like wine and his arm extended to gently take her cheek in his palm. Watching him watch her was without a doubt the most lecherous thing Rita had ever experienced. The look in his eyes made her shudder. It was the look of pure, salacious lust. Her lips were like fire on the inside of his hand, giving Chris the courage to let it descend. He caressed the smooth nape of her neck, down her chest to finally cup the full mound of her breast. He let his thumb circle the already turgid peeks and her body arched against his hand inherently. A moan fell desperately from her lips, and that did it. At that moment, a storm that had been brewing for four long years finally broke.

The next moments were a blur. Within that time they had some how managed to shed Chris of the rest of his clothes and make their way to the bed. It didn't really matter to Rita though, at that point all she was aware of was the present, and the fact that she was straddling the lap of a very aroused man. The fact that man was Chris, her partner, her best friend, just made the experience all the more thrilling. His mouth was ablaze on her throat, burning the skin, causing the nerves to shriek with unbearable pleasure. The pleasure itself was the torture. The torture was she had denied herself this for so long. His hands were every where. The sides of her breasts to the curve of her rear, he pulled her closer, spread her wider towards his ever attentive manhood.

Chris had longed for her for so long that at that instant, he could sell his soul to be inside her. The smell of her, the feel, it was sinful to covet in such a way. Chris was fully ready to spend an eternity in hell just as long as he could spend five minutes in her. Rita's lips were against his again, soft but demanding, and oh so sweet. Chris didn't think he could ever get enough. He pushed up against her, allowing her to feel the giving hardness of his flesh and she moaned something against his lips. Chris didn't know whether to ask what she said or to go on instinct alone. Better to be safe than sorry.

"I can't hear you Sammy." Maybe it was because his blood was pounding in his ears. His voice was thick and horse with want, and urgency as well. It was the same urgency she felt. Desperation. Rita tore her mouth away form his and she had to bite her own lip a moment just to keep form losing her mind.

"I said now Chris...I need you now." The words were spoken in a hot breath near his ear but they sent a shiver down Chris' spine. He did not hesitate to bring his mouth back to her neck, nor did he in pulling her body closer. He felt her lean forward to take the tendon of his shoulder into her mouth as he entered her. They were one then, and the reality of it consumed them both. Moans of unbridled passion and wanton pleasure escaped them both as they molded to fit each other, and the dance began. A dance as ancient and primal as time itself.

Their bodies moved in perfect sync, each meeting the other thrust for urgent, desperate thrust. Together they climbed nearer the peek, closer to the edge of pure extocy, until Chris' body was screaming for release. All the visions he had of taking it slow had banished the moment her slid into her tight, wet heat. With each thrust he could feel the end drawing nearer. He could only pray Rita was as close. She was. She had been before he had even entered her. Now, close didn't even begin to describe it. With each trust she felt his throbbing engorged erection fill her and an intense wave of pleasure rocked her to her core. The waves were coming faster, and she needed more of him.

"Chris....please." Rita heard her voice from what seemed like miles away, Chris must have been closer because his pace quickened instantly. Her hands raked reddened furrows of passion down his back and her voice broke on his name as the extocy struck her. Chris forced his eyes open to watch her as she came, and a moan fell from his lips as he felt her inner muscles grip him. Chris couldn't hold out a moment longer. He exploded inside her, with her name in his throat, and together, they fell.

They held each other closely as they lay in the aftermath of their lust. Bodies spent and covered in a light sheen of sweat, limbs intertwined. Their intimate serenity was broken only by the sound of soft erratic breaths as their hearts attempted to return to normal pace.

Rita's mind was swimming. She watched in awed silence as her hand drew invisible circles on the smooth granite of his shoulder. What now? The question was asked form the corner of her mind. Was this the end, a final goodbye? Was he going to walk away? His heart was beating fast beneath her ear, and Rita couldn't help but lift her head and lay her lips there.

The kiss was placed in the center of his chest and at it Chris' heart surged. He tightened his hold on her, bringing one hand from around her waist to gently caress her back. Her head lifted then, and her eyes came up to meet his own. He could see the fear in the green depths, as well as the questions. Questions he was dyeing to answer, but Chris could feel his throat freezing at the thought. He saw her eyes drop and his heart shattered. She shifted on top of him and started to push away. A breaker of panic tore through Chris as his arms tightened around her small form, hindering her attempt to escape.

"No." the single word was no more than a horse plea, spawned form the back of his throat, but the desperation in it was enough to stop Rita in her tracks.

"Chris..." His name was shaky in her throat. "We can't to this." Her voice was pleading too.

"But we've already done it Sam." His fingers laced through silken strands of umber as her looked into her eyes. "All that's left now is to accept it."

Rita swallowed hard as she attempted to find her voice again. "You want to accept it.... this?" She timidly gestured to them and their current surroundings. At that moment a smile so bright broke across his face Rita thought she might be blinded by it. Her mouth couldn't help but curve into a grin itself.

"God yes Sammy!" His mouth slanted up to hers as he spoke and their lips lingered together a moment.

"I want this Rita, I want you." Chris spoke once their mouths parted, his voice was breathless as he addend three additional little words that made Rita's smile widen.

"All that matters, is now." He recited her own words and Rita's heart soared. This time, her mouth captured his. Her lips parted on their own will as she gave in to the inundating pleasure and allowed him entrance into her mouth. She felt his hands slide up and down her bare skin as his body shifted restlessly beneath her own. Rita knew if she had any thing to say, she'd better get it out before it was too late.

"Chris..." His name was practically moaned in a voice so laced with desire she barely recognized it as her own. His motions stilled, however and he waited for her to continue. "I need you to promise me one thing."

"Anything." The way he said it made her whole body tremble.

"No more secretes Ok?"

"No more secretes Sam." he spoke as his lips connected with her neck. "I'll never walk away form you again Rita." He vowed this in a whisper to her shoulder as he gently turned them over. The feeling of her body beneath his own was enough to drive Chris out of his mind. He felt her legs wrap around his waist and once again, he found himself in heaven.

"Promise?" Chris felt her breathy moan as her hands skimmed down the length of his back. Rita's lips were against his shoulder as she drew his raging manhood towards her.

"Promise." Chris swore it to her, himself, and to whatever deity would listen. His lips pressed urgently against hers as his body surged down into her heat, and their bodies were joined once more. The dance began again.

They were playing the waiting game, pure and simple. They had been for the past hour and a half by Chris' record. He lifted his eyes form his watch to gaze out the slightly tinted window of the surveillance van. Nothing. At least nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Just the normal stream of clubbers drifting in and out of the building. Chris' mind was drifting too; on what seemed a million different things. Last time he had worked with Vince was eight years ago. That night every thing had gone to hell in a hand bag. Now he wasn't alone, his partner's life was on the line as well. His partner, his best friend. Now there was a subject his mind could drift on for hours. He could still taste her on his lips, feel her skin on his fingers.

"How's it looking Lorenzo?" The voice form the radio broke through Chris' daze. He picked up and clicked the button to respond.

"All's clear on this end. What about you?"

"Vince gripped the radio tightly as he looked up and down the dark side alley of the club. A pale blue street light provided the only means of sight and Vince stepped into it's beam as he surveyed his surroundings once again. The alley was quiet, motionless and the air was thick and wet with a certain essence of anticipation.

"Nothing so far, but he'll show. I'm sure of it." Vince was sure. There wasn't a chance in hell he was going to make the same mistake he had eight years ago.

Rita sat on the red velvet couch, caramel mocha-chino in hand. Her eyes skimmed the crowd. There were three at the bar, a small collection of people dancing to the soothing sounds provided by the band. All seemed the norm. Then she saw him. She wasn't sure from where he had entered, or how long he had been there, but he was coming her way. Those eyes, that face, the composite had been a dead ringer. Plus something about him seemed to reek of death.

"Guys, we got company in here." Rita uttered into the bug that was skillfully concealed within the low neckline of her shirt.

"Hi." She spoke in a sultry voice as he sat down next to her. She crossed her legs, intentionally causing the tight leather of her skirt to ride a little higher. Her movements did not go unnoticed. The stranger stole a glimpse at her revelation and then brought his eyes back to hers. A smile graced his lips and his teeth gleamed in the vague light. His voice was mellow as he uttered two words.

"I'm Jack."

She opened her eyes, at least, she thought she'd opened her eyes. She felt her lids move, the tiniest flutter of motion, but the darkness remained. The eyes are not here; there are none when nothing can be seen.

The darkness was impenetrable. Shape without form, shade without color, paralyzed force, gesture without motion. Rita knew where she was; this was death's dream kingdom.

She shut her eyes, a futile attempt to wish away the nightmare. She reopened them, and the darkness was impenetrable. She strained to hear, something, anything to give her a clue as to what had happened. But the ears are not here; there are none when nothing can be heard.

She could feel the rise of panic forming quickly within her, but she willed it down in defiance. This was no time to become distraught. Years of training, of experience soothed her anxious mind as she began to asses her situation. There was darkness. Cold, impenetrable, darkness, in which nothing could be seen or heard or felt. It was then she realized her hands were tied. Tight, and over her head. She attempted to move, but her body screamed with the pain. Everywhere. She hurt everywhere. A whimper was spawned from the back of her throat, the only sound amidst the nothingness. It was then she realized she was also gaged. Rita breathed in deeply attempting to recapture her wits. She could not panic. She told herself this over and over again. Panic was not an option.

Slowly she attempted to move her wrists. More pain, and then she felt something. Metal. Chains. Her brain processed it quickly, adding it to the growing lists of her current handicaps. At least she still had her clothes. She thought she did at least, it was so cold she really couldn't tell. What had happened. Her brain seemed to resist when she attempted to remember. She recalled going out to the ally with the suspect, and expecting to see Vince and her partner there with back up. But no one had been there, except him. Then she remembered, he had stuck her with something; in the shoulder. Damn it!! She cursed to herself. That would explain why every inch of her body felt as if a jack-hammer was pounding into it. She had been drugged, knocked out cold, and taken to God only knows where.

But what had happened to Chris, had he even known she was in trouble? She felt the panic rising again, but her thoughts were interrupted when she heard something. A movement within the nothingness. Then, with a suddenness that seemed unearthly, the darkness was shattered. Rita's eyes slammed shut on their own accord, rebuking the bombardment of light.

"Open your eyes." A voice so cold it surpassed that of the darkness seven fold spoke to her. Rita obeyed. Her eyes strained against the light as she began to asses her surroundings. A small black room, which she seemed to be standing in the center of. Not really standing, her feet just barely touched the ground. There was a window on the far left wall, blackened in of course. And next to that was a small table and a single chair. It seemed appropriate conditions, for a deranged psychopathic serial killer that is.

"Look at me." He spoke again and Rita looked up slowly in the direction the voice had come form. It was the suspect, the man form the cafe, Jack, or whoever the hell he was, maybe Satan. He was standing not ten feet away, near the only door in the room, his finger still on the light switch. The stylish suit he had dawned at the cafe was gone now, replaced by garments of all black. He approached her then, walking in what appeared to be carefully measured steps. Her eyes, which had now, she quickly realized, become her most valuable weapon, followed.

"Beautiful." The word was whispered through sneering lips as a gloved hand extended. He captured her chin between his thumb and index finger and lifted her face slightly. Rita's skin crawled at the touch and she jerked her head from the cold grasp. It was a movement that caused a substantial amount of pain, but it was well worth it to see the sneer dissolve form his lips.

"And fiery as well." He spoke roughly as he retook her face, this time in both of his hands, hindering her form any other movement. She felt, rather than saw his face descending, and then felt his lips pressed against her forehead. Rita felt sick. Her stomach tightened in knots, and it was all she could do to swallow down her insides, and appear unfazed.

"It's such a shame," He spoke as he pulled away slightly, his voice almost sounded sorrowful. Almost.

"I can see through you though. I know what you really are." His eyes narrowed and Rita's heart beat faster. Did he know, did he find the mic, her badge!!? He reached behind him then and pulled out a long black object. Switchblade. The word rolled repetitively through her mind. She could barely keep herself from trembling when the sharp silver blade was produced with quick flick of his wrist. Rita tore her eyes from the knife, and refocused on the man's face as he began to speak again.

"I know, that beneath all the glamor, is the shadow. The shadow that is your soul." Rita inhaled a slow deep breath, this is what she hadn't been trained for. A first class lunatic. "I know you don't understand now." Jesus! It was almost as if he had read her thoughts! Rita held his gaze, nothing. There was nothing in the dark brown depths, emptiness.

"But you will understand." He continued, his voice chilling the very bones within her "I'll make you understand." These words were spoken with such malevolence it sparked a wave of terror that tore down Rita's spine. Her head shook slowly as the blade was brought before her face.

"Yes..." He hissed at her silent plea. "You must understand, as do I, the shadow." He slid the flat of the blade down her face. The cool metal sent a shiver radiating from her body as it continued its decent, down her neck, her chest. A wicked grin graced the corners of his mouth when the blade came to the valley between her breasts. Her heart was pounding against it.

"The shadow was upon you the moment you came into this world." He stopped for a moment, and let the blade skim down an inch more to slice the thread of the first button to her blouse. The silk whisked open revealing more of her skin to the frigid air. She watched his eyes dilate into two black pools as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. She felt sick under the scrutiny of his morbid stare, and she wanted to cry when his lips descended to the spot he had just revealed. Chris had kissed that spot, he may never again.

"Yes." He spoke again, his voice ragged now, breathless. She felt sick. "Between the conception and the creation, falls the shadow." Another button fell, more skin revealed. This time his hand fell upon spot, the soft, full curve of her breast.

"Between the motion and the act," Another button, more skin. This time his lips; on her stomach just above her navel. "Falls the shadow." He rose form his knees, dragging the knife along her exposed skin. An arm slithered around her waist as the blade came to rest against her throat.

"Between the desire..." His breath burned against her skin as Rita felt herself being jerked hard against his rigid form. "And the spasm, the essence..." The words were growled into her neck, and her attempt to pull away was futile. The chains bound her hands and she was trapped in the death-lock of his grasp.

"And the decent..." a large hand gripped her ass, and with no gentle amount of force he ground his hips into hers. Her voice, though muffled by the gag, screamed in protest, as did her body which attempted to recoil, but it was in vein. "Falls the shadow."

Rita closed her eyes, in effort to detach herself . A gloved hand was sliding up the skin of her thigh, under her skirt. This was not happening, this couldn't be happening. She felt his teeth pierce into her shoulder as his hips pushed fiercely against her again. This couldn't be happening. His mouth was against her cheek again, as was the blade. She felt the words more than she heard them.

"You're gonna understand."

This couldn't be happening.

"Kiss me."

Oh now look what ya gone and made us do!! Oh well children you'll just have to wait until next time. You'll find more of the same in part three so you can bitch about whatever you want, it ain't gonna change nothin!!