Here comes the smut!! Hey, somebody's got to do it! So, at long last, here is part three. Feedback is welcome but we must warn, flames are not met with marshmallows. So if you decide to dish it out, you better be able to take it!

DISCLAIMER: Once more we are claiming all rights and privileges to these characters. Yep, we own 'em, we don't care what you say. We bailed old Stu out of jail for prostitution and exhibitionism, and he gave us the show to pay back the bond. So now we're his pimps too! (kidding)

Fat heavy droplets struck his shoulders in crude, imperfect meter. His feet fell, hard and desperate on the wet pavement, and his breath tore from his lungs in thick white puffs. His mind raced. The gyre was widening. The center could not hold. Chris could feel his world coming apart at the seems. Just minutes ago everything had been perfect. They couldn't have possibly telegraphed it better. But, somehow, some way, it had all been shot strait to hell.

"Vince!" Chris shouted into the cold, unforgiving night as he came to a halt in the circle of an amber street light. He saw Sgt., Kelly, a vague shadow, racing toward him up the dark alley. "What the hell happened!" Chris yelled again, the words ripping form his throat, burning with panic. Vince only stared at Chris. His mouth fell open slightly, the shock and disbelief still etched on his face. It took Chris shouting his name again for his reverie to break.

"They...they just disappeared!" Vince stammered

"What!! You're kidding me right?!" Chris' voice cracked with hysteria. He ran both hands through his hair as the rain began to fall more fiercely. He tried to focus but all he could hear was the blood pounding viciously in his ears. He had lost her. He had lost Rita. It was all he could process.

"I heard Rita tell the guy they should go out the back exit. I radioed for backup to get in position. That's when the connection broke." Chris nodded frantically for him to continue. "When I made it back around here, all I found was this." Vince held in his hands the shattered remains of the wire Rita had been wearing. At the sight of it, Chris' heart nearly stopped.

"He made her." He stated in a surprisingly monotone voice.

"Yeah I can figure that much." Vince uttered. "But communication wasn't down for more than a couple of minutes." He took in a deep breath of the chilled air as he spoke. "We lost 'em. I can't believe we fuckin' lost 'em."

"Damn it!!" Chris' voice shattered the quiet alley as his fist connected with the brick wall. "How the hell could this happen!!" The words were nearly growled as he turned on his heal and headed for the van. "Let's go." Vince hesitated for a moment, then followed, struggling to keep up with Chris' quick pace.

"Now what?" He caught up with Chris at the van.

"Whenever Rita goes under cover she takes a tracer for emergencies. Let's just hope she's got it on." As they entered the van, Vince radioed for back up to stand by as Chris revealed form under the seat a small device. He pressed a couple of buttons and a small red dot appeared on the screen. A shrill beep penetrated the silence and a small sigh was released by both men. Chris' eyes cut in Vince's direction, his voice just loud enough to hear.

"You're a very lucky man Sgt. Kelly.

She felt blood, her blood trickle down the side of her face. Warm and sticky, it was a sickening feel, she saw her eyes reflected in the blade as it withdrew, abandoning the small incision it had just performed above her eye brow. She felt the fear, and it threatened to consume her. It raced through the body like a million fires, yet it chilled her to the core. She looked into his eyes again. Again she saw malevolence; again, she saw nothingness. Those same empty eyes skimmed her now partially clothed body, once, twice, then came back to meet hers; panic welled within her. Something between a sneer and a smile spread across his lips then.

"Not just yet my dear."

Rita watched him as he crossed the small room. She attempted to clear her mind but it hurt to think. She registered that he was going through her purse now. It really didn't make a hell of a lot of difference though. He had found the wire, he knew she was a cop. She struggled against the chains above her head. The stiffness in her body had resided a bit but the metal was unyielding.

"Don't bother...Sgt. Lance." He had found her badge. "There is no escape." His voice could freeze the lakes of hell. It was a cold indifference that personified the word 'evil'.

"You don't have to do this Jack." Rita managed to speak around the gag. Her voice was dry, and her throat felt as if she had been swallowing glass. That 'grin' returned to his lips once more.

"Oh, but I do, my dear." He continued to rummage through her bag and that's when it struck her: The tracer. The realization flooded her mind and all else ceased to exist. She knew this was her sole means of survival. She had to stall him.

"Why do you have to Jack?" She spoke the next logical inquiry and he turned to face her as he disregarded her bag. He looked slightly annoyed but Rita didn't give a rats ass. He was away from her bag, away form the tracer, and Chris was getting closer.

"I've explained that to you already." He moved closer. He had the knife again. Her heart beat faster. "And now, it's time."

The sky went ablaze with pale blue fire as the two men sprang from the barely halted van. Thunder rolled over head as sirens blared their arrival. Precisely 18 minutes had passed since Chris had turned on the tracer. 'Just be Ok Sammy. God please let her be Ok.' Chris silently prayed to a deity he was barely even sure of, with every fiber of his being as he and Vince sprinted through the merciless sheets of rain. They came to the front of the ramshackled house and Vince pounded on the door.

"Open up!! Police!!" He glanced at Chris who gave a quick nod, and in one swift motion, kicked the rickety wooden door in. They entered together, weapons drawn, eyes wide in the darkness, and senses on full alert.

"Shit!!" Rita watched the man in front of her spin around to face the door. "Oh shit!!" He repeated in a whisper, and when he turned back to face her his eyes were wide. Not with fear, or trepidation. It was anger she saw in the murky brown depths, rage.

"Not this soon, they shouldn't be here yet!!"

"It's over Jack." Rita managed to mumble around the cloth.

"It's not over!" His susurration was as grating as his stare. "It's not over 'till I say it's over!" The blade flew from his hand and tore into the blackened drywall as he crossed the room. Then without warning, the darkness was back. The cold desolate nothingness that blinded the eyes, numbed the senses. She heard some shuffling for a moment and then, the silence was back too.

Chris and Vince made there way cautiously through every room of the house. When he felt that there was no immediate danger, Vince produced a flashlight from his jacket.

"Rita!?" Chris called and his voice resonated throughout the decrepit building. "Sam where are you!?"

"Chris!!" Rita managed to shout over the gag as she struggled violently against the chains that bound her.

"Where are you!?" Chris called again, his heart beating impossibly faster at the sound of her voice.

Rita moved her jaw against the gag and was able to work the cloth below her chin. "I don't know! It's dark... and cold!" Her voice seemed to come form every direction at once.

"Ok Sam, hold on!" Chris called back to her and then turned to Vince. "I don't get it we checked every room."

"I know. There's no place she could be, unless..." The realization struck them simultaneously, and immediately Chris began to search the ceiling while Vince stomped the hardwood floor. A hollow thud sounded seconds later.

"Hey Lorenzo!! Over here!" Chris raced across the room as Vince began pulling up the mock floor boards.

"I thought this shit only happened on TV."

"So they pulled some prints huh?" Chris spoke into the receiver of his phone. "Great, maybe now we'll have an ID to go with this face." He listened for a moment and silence consumed the dim loft. "Yeah, we'll be in before 12:00... see ya."

Chris hung up the phone then, and leaned back into the soft leather of the couch. He let out a breath he only now realized he'd been holding as he glanced at the clock on the coffee table. It was 1:03. That meant Rita had been in the shower for over thirty minutes. He knew why, and the thought made him ill. Chris didn't even want to think about it, that sick twisted bastard having his hands all over Rita. It made his stomach churn just to fathom it. Chris knew they would have to discuss it though, but just not now. For her sake.

For his sanity.

The water shut off up stairs and Chris could envision her stepping form the shower. The beads of water still clinging delicately to her soft, supple skin. He took a deep breath to clear his head. He had to focus on her. Not the case, not the murders, not tomorrow. Just her. She had been his truth, fought his devils for as long as he'd known her. Now it was his turn. He'd be there when the demons come.

He'd be there when they'd bring the fear.

He heard the top stair squeak, and Chris was up form the sofa almost instantly. He watched his partner descend. She had dawned one of his old sweat shirts, but he really couldn't read her expression. The only light in the loft was provided by a street light out side. It shone through the window and cast deceptive, layered shadows that masked everything they touched. Chris reached for the lamp when she came to the bottom step.

"Don't..." It was the first word she'd spoken to him since they'd left that god awful house. "Leave it off." Her voice was small and fading.

"Ok." Chris spoke as his hand fell form the lamp, and he watched her step into one of the beams of light. His sweat shirt engulfed her, and the bandage above her eye seemed to stand out, she looked so small. Chris crossed the distance between them in three log strides. Now, he too stood in the small square of pale blue.

"How do you feel?" He knew it was a stupid question the moment it left his mouth. Idiot, his mind chided. He saw something unidentifiable flicker in her eyes.

"I'm fine Chris." Her tone was stern, but her eyes betrayed her. "I'm not hurt, I'm not sick. So don't treat me like I'm broken or something." She was lying, and Chris saw right through it. Even now she was still trying to fight. Still trying to protect him. She was so proud, so stubborn.

So strong, his Rita. This fragile soul.

She walked past him and he turned on his heel to follow. Rita couldn't let him see the tears, so she forced them down with all the strength she could muster. It was so cold where she was. A place devoid of veracity and full of denial. Coward.

The drugs had worn off a while ago, but Rita still felt a throbbing in her head. She felt anxious, and angry, and nervous, and scared, and too many other things to give voice to. That son of a bitch had taken from her the one thing she had battled her entire life for, control. She had lost it as a child, and had to fight for years to regain it. She prided herself on that above all else. And that bastard stole it. Just like that. To think what would have happened if she didn't have the tracer, if Chris hadn't remembered. Rita felt her skin crawl at the memory. She wouldn't remember, at least not now.

She felt cold.

"I'm just worried about you Sammy." She heard him softly say, and there was a warmth in his voice that drew her in. His hand extended to gently caress her cheek, but at the touch she remembered another hand on her face. A cold gloved hand, her body recoiled instantly. "Don't..." Her voice shook when she said it. 'Coward.' Her mind screamed.

"Rita I..." It sounded like he was choking and even in the vague light, Rita could see the hurt in his eyes. She saw the longing there. She practically fell into his arms then, her face burring into his chest, her arms encircling his waist. The cold disappeared.

"I'm sorry Chris... I just..." His arms encased her then, silencing her.

"Don't be. Don't ever be."

They held each other like that for a while, until just holding wasn't enough. Rita's hands moved in whisper soft touches over the firm muscles of his back. The heat of Chris' skin beneath her palms drew her in like a beacon in the night. He had saved her once more; not just physically. In every possible venue, he lit her path to safety. This was what she needed, he was what she needed, body and soul.

Her touches moved from his back over his waist and up his chest as they became more insistent. Rita stared into his eyes and watched them darken, that deep royal blue she was quickly becoming familiar with. Her hands traveled further up, ending their journey by circling his neck. She lifted herself and their lips met in a kiss that was almost chaste, yet it only fanned the flames that Rita had kindled. Her lips trailed away form his to connect with his neck, and Chris' response was instantaneous. Rita heard the hiss as he drew in his breath quickly, she felt his arms tighten around her waist, holding her firmly against his rigid form.

"Rita..." Chris' voice was rough and breathless against her hair. It sent a jolt of lustful energy through Rita that liquefied her very core. Her efforts grew bolder. Her hands slipped back to his waist, this time under his T-shirt as her lips continued to assault his neck. Rita wanted to hear her name like that again; in that raw, desperate voice that literally made her dizzy. Her lips found his once more and this time there was nothing gentle about it. Chris kissed her back, hard and deep as one hand sank into her hair, and she was anchored against him.

Chris was on fire, and he wanted to burn forever. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that he had become addicted to this woman. The way she felt the way she smelled the way she tasted. The way she tasted now. He knew he could never get enough. Every ounce of his being pined for her, and the fact that now, she was moaning into his mouth, molding her body against his, was not easing the matter at all. Chris was barely aware that his shirt had been removed and he was now moving backwards. He felt the sofa behind him and stopped. He had to slow down. Something didn't feel right. This wasn't his Rita.

"Sam, are you sure?" Chris started to ask, but the question faded into something like a stifled moan when he felt her lips, hot and wet against his chest.

"I need this Chris." Her mouth branded him again and again as her hands skimmed down the tight muscles of his stomach. Rita gave a little shove, forcing them both down to the soft leather.

"I need you." Her voice was low and ragged with lust, it seemed to radiate something ancient, something primal. When she straddled his lap Chris could see the arousal burning in the emerald seas of her eyes; it made his breath catch, and the evidence of his own excitement became even more prominent.

Rita could feel him, and she wanted him inside her. Not just her body, but in her mind; in her heart. She needed to know how it was supposed to be. She looked down into his eyes and she saw how right this really was, she was sure. She felt his hands slide up her thighs, around to her rear and gently grip her ass. Chris rocked her against his steel hard form and Rita saw stars. A moan was spawned form her throat that sounded almost animalistic. She was dizzy, completely intoxicated with desire. Her hands took on minds of their own as they quickly disposed of the rest of his clothing, and then, her eyes devoured him. Devoured him as if they had been starved for years. And in a sense they had been.

Chris was desperately clutching to his final shred of self control. Her mouth was assailing his, her body, rocking hard against his in the most primal of rhythms, and her hand had wrapped itself around his severely swollen, aching manhood. It was sweet, blissful torture, but it ended all too soon. Rita pulled away, and sat back against him. She ground herself against him. It was all Chris could do to keep him self from screaming at the contact. He gazed up at her, her hair tasseled, skin flushed, and eyes dark. Her lips, wet and parted, red and swollen from his kisses.

Beauty personified. A goddess embodied.

He watched in paralyzed awe as she crossed her arms at her waist and in one movement, pulled the sweat shirt up and over her head. Chris couldn't breath, or he was breathing too fast, either way he felt like he was going to faint. Sweet Jesus, she was perfect. He felt himself grow impossibly harder as he drank in the sight of her. The shred was slipping.

"Make love to me Chris." Her voice was breathless, and it was a command, and plea in one. How could he refuse her anything? Her body shifted again, and a tiny moan fell faintly from her lips. That did it. Control just skipped the light-fantastic out of town. With a speed not of this earth Chris sat up and pulled her roughly against him. He flipped them over and pressed her down into the cool green leather.

"Do you know... what... you do to me Rita?" His voice was hoarse, and broken as he spoke into her hair. Rita's hands flew to his back as his mouth began its journey over her body. His lips blazed a path of unalloyed pyre over her neck, down her chest, coming to taste the turgid, rose dusted peaks of her breasts again and again. Rita moaned his name like a prayer to heaven as the waves of sensations washed over her. She was being feasted on, devoured, ravished completely. She writhed beneath the beautiful violation.

"Do... you know?" Chris whispered again, his breath hot against her breast.

"Tell me Sam..." Rita nearly swooned as his hand found its way between her thighs, to the apex of her body, the center of her desire. His fingers slowly, gently worked into her tight, wet center and Rita was surprised she could even manage a clear thought. "Chris." She pleaded his name in a breathless moan as his fingers slid in and out of her body in a pace so slow, so deep it was maddening. Rita could feel the breaker building, the tension mounting. She was so close, her body longed for release.

"S-Sam...please...I...n-need..." Rita cried out to him, and she heard his reply, harsh and desperate against her ear before she could finish.

"I know...me too. Let me show you." His fingers slid out and Rita whimpered at the loss, but he quickly replaced them. She could feel him there, mere inches form where she needed him to be, but he hesitated. She opened her eyes and gazed up into his. He was shaking, and she could see the flood just barely held in check. He was waiting for her, asking her. He was giving her the control. Rita brought his face down to hers, and their mouths joined. She cradled his hips between her thighs and then, their bodies joined too. Chris pushed down into her, filling her completely, and they both shuddered at the sensation. Instinct took over, time stood still, and the journey began.

The journey of a thousand centuries, of the soul itself. They climbed higher together. He crashed into her and she rocked against him until their cries of passion were all that existed. They were one as they came to the edge, and they were one as they fell. They fell hard. Each clinging, gripping desperately to the other's trembling form as they cried out to each other. But they fell together, and sleep overtook them both soon after.

And the fear didn't visit them that night.

The storms that rain down upon the earth can be merciless. They consume all, showing no prejudice, but when they lift, they leave in their wake a new nature. All is cleansed; all is reborn. It is the earth's baptism. In life, the soul must meet similar tempests.

The rain had stopped, and the storm seemed to had lifted. It seemed. When Rita awoke that morning, something within her had changed. She felt strong again, she felt elated, she felt in control. She strode into the office at 11:00, every hair in place, determination etched on every feature. She was still marred by the small battle scar above her eye, but she had replaced the large gauss with two butterfly bandages.

Model of profession.

Chris, on the other hand, was not. It was because he knew. He knew behind that stoic facade his Sammy was ticking time bomb. He knew her, and he knew her limits. This case was going beyond her limits. He sat down on the side of her desk, and watched as she took her seat. She wasn't as strong as she seemed.

"Are you sure you're ready for this Sam?" Chris asked the question carefully as his fingers gently danced over the dark abrasion on her wrist. He thought about the chains, and a shiver ran through him. His heart pounded as he awaited her response. Half of him expected her to lash out, the other didn't know what to expect. So he was surprised when she took his hand in hers and swiftly, gently brought it to her lips.

"I'm fine Sammy." Liar. Rita wasn't fine, she felt like she was going out of her Goddamned mind. "Really." she added. Liar.

"Don't say that Rita." Chris voice was horse when he spoke and his eyes narrowed. He held her hand, gazed down and attempted to decipher the raging seas of her eyes. She looked away. This was bad. When ever she avoided eye contact he knew things were either really good or really bad. An idiot could make the choice in this case.

"Don't say what Chris?" Her voice was that of pure innocence. Liar. It took all the strength Rita had in her to meet his stare. She could feel the cool blue orbs cutting through her charade. He could always see through her. But she needed this control, it kept the fear at bay. She let her eyes drift, she just couldn't look at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She forced the words out and they were spoken to the desk.

"Don't say that you're 'fine' when you're not. Don't lie to me Rita." Chris couldn't hide the hurt in his voice, but he didn't care. He wanted her to open up, to tare down those god forsaken walls she hid behind. He wanted her to admit she was afraid.

"But I am." The three words were said with such conviction Chris almost believed them. But he knew her.

"God damn it Rita." Chris rose and began to pace the floor. "How can you hide from me like this!"

"Me?" Rita questioned in mock astonishment. "Me, hide form you?" His saying this temporarily took her mind off her own indiscretion. "Chris, I'm not the one who's been keeping secrets for the past four days!" At this point she stood as well. She was at least half a foot shorter then he was, even with the heels, but backing down was not an option for her.

"Don't you dare talk about hiding."

"I thought we agreed not to bring that up again." Chris' voice was quiet again, as he gazed down on her. He knew her. This was a defense, she always tried to take the attention away from herself. She shook her head and he expelled a long sigh. "Just talk to me." It was a desperate petition.

"Not now Sam." Her voice was suddenly calm as well

"Then when?" His tone mirrored hers as he took a step closer. All he had to do was to dip his head a bit to kiss her. Chris watched as she took one of his hands in both of hers. She met his stare and he knew she was ready to let the walls crumble. She took a deep breath as if she was about to speak, and Chris held his breath as well. However the next voice he heard was not his partner's.

"Hey Lorenzo!" The moment Vince's voice sounded throughout the office Chris and Rita broke apart immediately.

"Kelly!" Chris stated, attempting to clear his mind. "Where ya been?" He sat back on Rita's desk as she took her chair silently.

"Down stairs at the lab, they found a match to the prints." Vince waved the large folder in the air triumphantly.

"What did they come up with?" Rita questioned, her professional persona once again in place.

"Sgts. We have one James W. Conrad." He handed the folder to Rita and shoved his hands deep in his pockets as he continued. "Originally form Canada, he entered the States about four years ago and came straight to Tampa."

"What's he on record for?" Rita asked as she flipped through the thick, and apparently, very extensive file.

"Three years ago he was arrested for felony assault." Vince met the two quizzical glances of his counterparts and knew elaboration was in order. He took in a breath as he ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the sandy brown locks a bit.

"He attacked this woman, messed her up real bad too, but the charges were dropped."

"Why? What happened?" Chris' brow furrowed as he asked the question.

"The judge ruled him 'mentally unfit'." Vince said it with a tone of both sarcasm and disgust. "He ended up with three months in a dependency clinic."

"From the looks of it, he needed a hell of a lot more than three months." Chris stated shaking his head. An equal amount of detest shown across his features.

"No kidding." Vince agreed. "I had them fax down the case report." He nodded to the large file that Rita was glancing over. "It's all phyc evaluations."

"What? All of it?" Rita looked up form her reading in disbelief. The folder had to weigh a couple of pounds, at least.

"Yeah, all but the first three pages." Vince continued. "I haven't read all of it but, from what I got, it seems this Conrad freak idolizes serial killers. Manson, Bruner, and Jack the Ripper especially."

"Hell of a choice of role models." Chris chimed in.

"He wants to be like them, and in the Ripper's case, I think he wants to be him. That's why he goes after women. He feeds off the power, he has over his victims. Its not enough to hurt them. He relishes in the fact he can cause so much fear."

"That sick son of a bitch." Chris mumbled in disbelief of what the was hearing.

"So what now?" Rita stood as she spoke. "I mean, we can't just sit here we gotta find this guy."

"Yeah and fast." Chris agreed.

"Well, we might be in luck." A confidant grin spread across Vince's mouth. "Conrad has a brother, and I'll give you one guess as to where he lives."

These were not houses that lined the haggard streets of the Kencade district. These were lurching rows of discontented ruins. They all looked the same. The doors, scarred with time's spit and anger's hasty knocking; the pillars, by their sides were shaky, their stuccoed bloom long sense peeled away. They looked like crutches. The gummy-eyed windows blinked out at them from across postage stamp lawns, as they drove along the troubled streets. Even the sun seemed to shudder in disgust when it laid its beams across a decimated roof. It was as if it had felt some evil chill the glow of its rays.

Dirt and disease were the big sacraments here. And the only penance was despair.

"It's amazing how well they manage to hide these places." Chris commented as the three stepped up the crumbling stairs leading to the door. His arm extended and door trembled as he thumped the nearly rotted wood.

"Just a minute!" A loud and slightly annoyed voice boomed from behind the door. A dog barked from somewhere far off. Then the door opened and a tall thin man stood opposite the three detectives. His hair was dark, and long; it hung in a thin tangled mass just below his shoulder blades. His chest was bare, except for the permanent markings of red, green and black. He had a beard. It was dark and un-kept as well. His eyes were as black as the ink that graced his skin and they skimmed over the three smartly dressed officers in a glare of persecution.

"What can I do for ya'll." His mannerisms were courteous but his eyes informed otherwise.

"Jason Conrad?" Rita question as she reached into her purse. The thin man nodded. "Palm Beach PD we'd like to ask you a few questions." She produced her badge and Conrad eyed it carefully.

"What about?" The question was asked slowly as his grip strengthened on the door frame.

"About your brother, James." Chris stated, and he watched the change in the man's demeanor. Then, without warning he felt a hard shove in his chest that sent him stumbling backwards, knocking Vince and Rita off balance as well. The door was slammed in their faces and a lot of shuffling was heard from behind it. With out hesitation Vince kicked the door in, sending wood splintering in all different directions, and all three entered, weapons drawn.

"Conrad!!" Chris shouted to the peeling walls. "Get your ass out here!!" All was quiet for a few fleeting moments, until the unmistakable click-clack of a shotgun being locked tore through the silence. Jason Conrad emerged from around a corner to face them.

"Don't even think about Jason." Rita's voice was stern, her green eyes burning a path right through his skull, right were her gun was pointed.

"I-I ain't got nothin' to do with this shit!" The skinny man shouted his aim constantly shifting between the three officers.

"Put it down man!" Vince yelled as his thumb came up to flick the safety off his gun.

"I-I ain't got n-nothin' to do with it!!" Jason's voice neared hysteria as he gripped the handle of the sawed off double-barrels.

"We know that man. Just drop the gun." Chris kept his voice calm and his manner filtered into the frightened man. Conrad slowly laid the gun down on the floor and rose back to his feet, locking his fingers behind his head.

"I ain't got nothin' to do with this." He repeated again as Chris came up behind him. Vince and Rita kept their guns aimed as Chris proceeded to cuff him.

"We know man." Chris stated once the cuffs were locked in place. "Let's just go down town and talk about it."

They Looked like predators, and that was their intent. In the small, dim interrogation room, the three detectives were vultures, Jason Conrad, the carcass.

"Why don't you start at the beginning Mr. Conrad." Rita stated smoothly as she took a seat across from the slightly trembling man.

"Ok...uhh." He cleared his throat and sat up a bit straighter in his chair. "Me and Jack were born in Canada, he's two years older and we--"

"Jason, how about we skip ahead a decade or two?" Vince impatiently cut in as he stalked around the small table in the center of the room.

"Where should I start?" He looked to Chris who was leaning against the door frame.

"Four years ago." He replied.

"Four years ago, that's when I noticed the change in 'em." The remorse in his voice was evident.

"What kind of change?" Chris edged him on.

"He started getting into those serial killers, ya know? Researching 'em and shit. Then he went and beat up that girl. He went to that clinic and they said he got better but..." Conrad's voice trailed off and Vince saw an opportunity.

"When was the last time you talked to your brother?" He leaned over him from behind when Jason didn't respond. "Answer the question Mr. Conrad."

"Uhh... a couple of days ago." He swallowed hard before continuing. "He said he was in Palm Beach for a while and he might need my... help."

"Help?" Rita questioned, her demeanor never faltering, but her tone could have ripped through steel. Chris picked up on it instantly and pushed away from the door to approach the table.

"What kind of 'help'." She looked him dead in the eye as she spoke. He stammered a bit. "Help picking out innocent young girls for him to prey on? Is that it Mr. Conrad?" She stood and leaned over the table and despite her small stature, she seemed to tower over the now cowering man.

"Or maybe it's a bit more indirect. Maybe you provide the drugs he uses to knock them out?" Seeing Conrad frantically shaking his head only encouraged Rita. "Or maybe you like to watch, is that it? You like to watch your brother rape and decimate these innocent women? You get off on it?"

N-no I..." The thin man stammered and Rita went in for the kill.

"You know, we can book you for accessory to murder right now." The spiteful glare she threw him was enough to make a grown man piss in his pants.

"N-no! I ain't do none of that shit!" Jason was shaking his head frantically.

"Maybe not, but you sure as hell can go down for it." At that Rita felt a hand on the small of her back.

"Sam, that's enough." Chris' voice was soft in her ear, and worry was present within. Rita turned to him and saw the pleading in his eyes. Her temperament calmed.

"Now, Mr. Conrad." Vince picked up after throwing them a suspicious eye. "This situation can either work in your favor or against it."

"Ok." Conrad stated, his voice still a little shaken as he ran a hand through his long greasy locks.

"We're gonna need your help to bring your brother down."

The 'Ready room' was quiet. It always was this time of day, when mostly everyone had gone home. Rita came here to think. She did that a lot when they had waiting time during a case. She took the thick black vest from her locker and tossed it carelessly on the adjacent wooden bench. She sighed as she took a seat next to it. It was time to think things out.

This case was pushing way too hard, and not just her, Chris as well. He was keeping secrets, and so was she. They had never done that. And now, the fact that things were... different between them just made that situation all the more serious. Rita couldn't help but smile when she thought about how 'different' their relationship had become. That was the one good thing that had come out of this whole damn ordeal. They had found each other. But if they couldn't get past the secrets, past the fears, they would lose every thing.

They would lose each other.

She feared that most of all.

Chris stood where the long row of lockers ended. He watched her silently. He knew she would come here. Even he needed some peace and quiet after the past few days. The week had been nothing but straining, and it had left them both in a very confusing place. They really needed to talk things out. No fighting no lying, no hiding.

Eight years was a long time to hide.

Maybe if he told her, the fears would go away.

Maybe if he told her, she would go away.

"Hey Sam." Chris spoke and his voice sounded frail even to his own ears. He watched as her head snapped up and dark sienna waves danced around her face.

"Hey." Surprise was in her voice. Rita watched as he pushed away from the locker he was leaning on and began walking down the narrow isle. There was determination in his eyes, but apprehension on the same token. She spoke again when he came to stand in front of her.

"So, how long have you been standing there?" She patted the bench next to her.

"I don't know, a while." Chris sat down. "I like to watch you sometimes, a lot of the time actually." Starting with the truth, it was easy enough. Chris reassured himself, and was rewarded when she smiled. Not just any smile either, it was one of those 10,000 watt, blushing numbers that made his insides turn over. His heart pounded, and something within him stirred.

"I was umm... thinking." Rita spoke as she attempted to suppress the red she knew was spreading across her cheeks. She met his eyes and the blue lakes were intense. Her blood ran a few degrees hotter.

"I could tell." Chris said with a nod.

"About a lot of things..." Rita continued with an agreeing nod of her own.

"Jack Conrad, this case, Vince..." Chris picked up her train of thought but hesitated before adding one final subject. She did it for him.

"And us." The two words were soft on her lips. Chris took her hand in both of his as he spoke in a tone to matched hers.

"That is a topic that needs a little investigating, isn't it?"

Rita met his eyes again and the intensity had more than doubled. She could always read him through his eyes, and what she saw there made her breath freeze in her lungs. Her heart started beating so fast she could hear it. This was too much. She wasn't ready to for that kind of admission, not yet. Not when there was so much to be said.

"So... umm. Where's Sgt. Kelly?" Rita managed to stammer out the inquiry as pulled her hand away form the warmth of his. She missed it the second it was gone. She stood up to put some distance between them.

"He's checking things over for tonight. He said everything was set. Jason got in touch with his brother, we go with him to the meeting and take him down." He was patronizing her. They had already gone over the plan twenty times or more. It was frustrating as hell, but Chris knew she needed a little space.

"So he's double checking the equipment and stuff?" Rita spoke as Chris stood. She took a step back, he took one forward.

"Yeah." His answer was simple but it spoke volumes. His tone was deep, ragged, nearly a whisper. Rita felt the heat spread through her. He took a step forward, she stayed where she was. "Can we talk about that other topic now?"

"You mean us?" Rita willed her voice not to shake. It did. She wasn't sure if it was out of fear of what he was going to say, or arousal from what she wanted him to do. It was probably both. His final step closed the distance between them and his arms snaked around her waist. His face buried against her hair and she could feel his breath, warm against her neck. Chris nodded as he held her gently, and he felt so damn good.

She felt so damn good. Chris was beyond words so he just nodded his reply. He was lost in her. The way her chest rose and fell against his with every breath she took, the way her essence washed over him, setting his senses ablaze, the way her body felt pressed against his. Soft and strong in accord. He had found heaven. He nearly died when she pulled away.

"Where should we start?" Her voice sounded breathless as her eyes locked with his. The green seas were dark, and Chris couldn't suppress the shudder that tore through him. His voice became a prisoner in his throat as he watched the emerald pools flicker down his face. Her tongue peeked out briefly to moisten her lips and her mouth glistened like petals, touched by the morning dew. He wanted to drink from those petals.

"How about here." Chris' words were barely audible, no more than a hot breath against her skin. His lips caressed hers briefly, the slightest of touches, and Rita felt her body shiver. He pulled away for only a moment before his lips descended on hers once more. This time they crashed. They devoured each other. The surrender carnal and seemed to last an eternity.

It was an eternity that was over far too soon. Rita felt the cool metal against her back as his mouth left hers to spread its heat elsewhere. She couldn't keep from moaning his name as his lips began their voyage down her neck. He spoke her name in return and she felt her arousal flood her being. His two hands had become twenty, and Rita could barely keep up with all the places she was being touched. She was acutely aware, however, that one of his many hands was slowly making its way up her skirt. She brought his mouth back to hers in an invading kiss as her body arched towards the fervor of his caress.

Her response sent Chris reeling. Her body was reaching for him, while her mouth was doing the most amazing things to his. He could feel the blood race through his veins a little faster with every sound that fell from her lips, every move she made against his highly aroused body. He had to keep her still. Chris pressed her back firmly against the lockers, pinning her small form with his own. He managed to maneuver a hand under the thin silk of her blouse and cup the perfect roundness of her breast. He buried his face in her hair as his thumb circled the turgid, lace covered peak. At the same time Chris moved his other hand higher to stroke the unbelievably soft skin of her inner thigh. He could feel the heat radiating from her as she pined to get closer. Her mouth moved to his neck and Chris nearly fainted at the sensation. Hot, soft and wet. Utopia.

"Sam..." Her voice was a horse, ragged breath against his skin, and at it, Chris felt his body surge nearly beyond his control. His hands shook a little as he continued to tease her body and he let his mouth drift back to brush hers. He watched in amazement as the flush spread across her cheeks, then lowered his lips to each closed eye lid. Her breath quickened and fanned his face with moist heat as tiny beseeching moans came from her throat. Chris felt his own breathing hasten. Her arms tightened around his neck. He swallowed hard as his hand slid up on its on accord, granting her the smallest bit of her request. She whispered God's name, then his a little louder, and Chris nearly lost it as her body arched desperately against his own. He kissed her hard and long, and when his mouth pulled away his hands followed suit. She whimpered at the loss and her eyes flickered open. Chris was sure his heart had stopped. The green seas were dark, burning. They set his body aflame.

"Chris... I need you." Her admission ripped through his very soul, because Chris knew she didn't just mean at this moment. She meant forever.

Rita held her breath as she awaited his reaction. His hands stilled against her, and his eyes widened as he pulled away, out of her arms. Rita felt her heart shatter as it fell, lifeless from her chest. Her entire world spun over and slowly began to crumble, until she was suddenly back in the warmth of his embrace.

"Rita, oh God...Rita." He kept whispering into her hair, and she felt a bit confused until he pulled back again. This time he didn't let go. The biggest smile she had ever seen was plastered across his face, and at it Rita couldn't suppress a grin of her own. The smile faded from his lips then, but it remained in his eyes as he spoke.

"Rita, I... love you." His voice was soft, and seemed to almost catch in his throat. It continued to echo in her ears. Those four words. Rita felt the blood rush in her veins and she couldn't stop the chill that ran down her spine. It was back, the fear. Rita shut her eyes in attempt to shut it out, but it was to no avail. She could feel it spreading. This wasn't right, it wasn't fair. Those words were supposed to make her esthetic, they were suppose to make her heart soar. They weren't supposed to make her feel trapped, afraid.

She opened her eyes again and met the cool blue of his. They we're hopeful, he was waiting. He looked like a nervous sixteen year old. And something else spread through her at that moment. Something new. Something that was causing the fear to slowly filter out of her. It made her smile. Her arms came back up to encircle his neck, she let her lips brush softly against his.

"Let's get out of here Sam." Her lips moved gently against his neck as she spoke. "We still have three hours until we have to meet Vince."

Chris didn't think his heart could beat any faster, but it did. She wasn't going to make this easy on him.

"We have a lot to talk about." She kissed his chest to punctuate the sentence. "Let's get outta here." Chris held her tight as she spoke and let his lips rest gently on her hair line as he attempted to decipher her meaning.

"So... does that mean 'I love you too'?" His voice was timid, and he felt her hold him closer as well as she continued to speak in a whisper.

"Yeah Chris... it does."

The sky was black, and the air hung thick and heavy, impregnated by the seeds of uncertainty and anticipation. The wind picked up again and carried the salty essence of the ocean through the still night. The asphalt was wet, and reflected the spooky blue that shone from above, making the ground seem alive. It was somewhat funny, they should end up exactly where they began.

This concrete killing field.

Rita inhaled the cool Atlantic breeze as it swept across the marina parking lot. She paced the length of the van as she scanned the empty expanse. One lone figure stood in the center, a thin silhouette of a man. Jason Conrad. When she reached the front of the van, Rita turned and glanced at her watch for what must have been the hundredth time. 8:47. forty seven minutes behind schedule. She glanced at her partner for what must have been the second hundredth time. He was leaning against the back of the van, near the tire. His hands were shoved deep in the pockets of his jacket, his legs were crossed at the ankle and his head rested against the tinted window. His poise was relaxed but his face told otherwise. His eyes were set, locked on the single body in the empty lot. His mouth was shut tight and Rita could see the muscles of his jaw working beneath the skin as he ground his teeth together. Anxiety practically radiated from his body. He hadn't moved from that position in thirty minutes, so it startled her a bit when he suddenly turned his attention towards her.

"What time is it Sam?" His voice was cool, low.

"About a ten 'till." She didn't look at him, instead she focused on the man in the center of the lot. He had started some pacing of his own.

"You're sure you're Ok with this Sammy. I mean seeing this guy again?" Chris was facing her now, and even through the darkness Rita could tell his features had softened.

"I'll be fine Chris." She was speaking the truth this time. She wanted nothing more to see this bastard go down. She wanted to be the one to take him down.

"At this rate we'll be lucky to see any thing tonight." Vince's voice cut off her train of thought. He was sitting in the driver's seat of the van. His hands gripped the wheel fiercely, turning his knuckles white, as he stared at the radio on the dash board. It was as if he was attempting to will the machine to speak. His will must have been strong, because at that moment the black box did just that.

"Hey Sgts. I uhh.. think we got somethin' here." Jason Conrad's voice sounded from the radio and all three set of eyes snapped up. Another figure could be seen crossing the scope of the lot.

"Is it him?" Vince spoke into the radio, sending his voice into the tiny ear-piece, that was deftly hidden amongst Conrad's tangled locks.

"Yeah." The thin man's voice came in a whisper from the radio as the second body approached.

"Ok Jason, just get him to the beach." Rita gave the instruction, but Jason did not respond. The next voice they heard was that of a killer.

"Jason, brother... it's been a while." The second man spoke in a voice much clearer, and more precise than his counterpart. But there was a frigid tone within. The words he spoke were that of endearment, but a chilling indifference still remained present.

"It has man." Jason spoke, and the three detectives silently observed as the two met in a brief embrace.

"So, whatcha doin' in Palm Beach, you called me up sayin' ya need my help. Ya got me kinda worried bro." Jason's tone remained even, though a tinge of uneasiness shone through.

"No need to worry Jason. I have everything under control." There was a sound of satisfaction in his voice. It was enough to make the flesh crawl.

"Jack..." Jason hesitated, his voice trailing off.

"Don't slack up on this Conrad." Chris spoke into the radio as he took the passenger seat in the van. His gaze never left the two distant figures. His voice was encouraging and gave their coconspirator the courage to continue.

"Jack, you ain't been doin' that bad shit again... have ya?" His voice shook a little and the three held their breath as a thick silence fell across the world.

"Brother," The baneful voice began. "What I do isn't bad. I'm saving souls. I'm liberating spirits."

"From what?" Jason asked, the tremble in his voice becoming more evident.

"The shadow. The evil that pelages their hearts. If I can control them, it, I can set them free." Rita shivered at the words. Nearly the same words that we're spoken to her not twenty four hours ago. A fear pulsed through her. For a moment. It was quickly replaced with anger, detest. Enmity.

"Is that a confession?" Her voice was level as she looked to Vince, then Chris.

"Close enough for me." Chris stated, and Vince agreed with a nod as he leaned over to the box on the dashboard.

"Let's move him Jason... now." The moment Vince's voice was heard Jason responded.

"Jack, it's kinda creepy out here. You wanna walk down to the beach?" It would be hard for any one to tell his words had been rehearsed. The man he was addressing agreed with a simple nod and the two began to walk in silence towards the ocean.

"We got him." Chris whispered as Vince started the van. They made it to the beach well ahead of Jason, and all three were in position when he arrived. Rita watched from her location behind a small jetty of boulders. The light from the marina reflected of the rippling waves, and emitted a shimmering crystal light, illuminating the two men perfectly. Rita held her breath as the cool winds washed over her crouching form. They approached.

Chris and Vince watched silently as the figures made their way along the shoreline. They were at their backs and slowly walking away. Chris knelt in the cool sand, and Vince did the same as he spoke.

"No repeats from eight years ago Lorenzo." The words were mumbled as he drew his '45 from the holster at his side. Chris did the same, slid the magazine into place and clicked off his safety.

"Same goes for you too hot shot." Chris rose to a stoop and slowly began to follow the brothers. His focus locked on the man on the left, the target and kept about twenty feet between them. Vince quickly followed suit. Their moves were hushed, but any sound they might have made were drowned by the breathing of the sea.

Rita waited as they approached. She couldn't see Vince and her partner but she knew they were behind them by now. They came closer. 30 feet... 25... Her eyes narrowed as she watched their feet sink in to the sand one final time. Then she pounced. Like a wild cat upon its prey, she sprung in front of the two men. Her aim dead set on the perpetrator, not twenty feet away.

"Hold it Jack!" Rita's voice sounded above the rushing tide and at it the man she was addressing started. "Palm Beach PD Don't move!!"

"What the fuck is this!!" Jack shouted as he turned towards Rita then to his brother. Jason was silent. The pounding waves his only answer.

"Jason.... traitor!!" He turned from his brother and back to Rita, his eyes narrowed upon the recognition. An evil smirk spread across his lips and his teeth gleamed in the pallid light. The smile left his face when he met her eyes however. They were different now. Without fear, without consternation.

"You little bitch." He spat the words out.

"Don't. Fuckin'. Move. Jack." Her tone was low, chilling. Her finger twitched on the trigger.

"Come over here Jason." She motioned with her head as she saw Vince and Chris appear behind him, about ten feet away. They held their positions silently. Jason made a move to do as she asked, but with an unthinkable swiftness he was jerked back and against the other man's form. A human shield. A Saturday night special pressed to his temple.

"Put it down or he dies!" His voice was vile as he held her gaze. His eyes, empty, blinded by rage.

"Not a chance in hell." She shook her head as she watched Vince and her partner rise from their crouched positions.

"Let him go Conrad!!" Chris shouted from behind him, and Rita watched as the evil man's eyes widened. Hers narrowed in confidant determination as he began to shake.

"It's over!!" She shouted.

"It's not over!!" He shouted back. His head turned to see two men, two guns. They met the chill of his stare.

"Let him go Jack!!" The words rumbled from Chris' throat with carefully controlled fury.

Rita watched the scene as if she was an observing body. Each second rolled before her like a lifetime. She saw the evil man's grip strengthen on his gun, his head still turned his eyes still locked on Vince and her partner. She watched in benumbed wonder as his hand pulled back, whipping his arm around, parallel to his line of sight. His voice came then and it echoed in her ears.

"Not 'till I say its over!!"

She saw the spark first, the light of it stinging her eyes. Then she heard the blasts. They cracked through the heavy night, shattering it like some glass frailty. Two shots, then two more. Blood sprayed black, staining the alabaster sand.

The ocean voiced its fury.

And then, it was over.