What Transpires at Night (Part 2)

"Uh, where's the rest of it?"

Black and red leather pants and a matching… uh. I don't have a clue. It was small.

"It's called a bustier."

"Uh-huh." I backed away a single step. "I'm going on a hunt and kill mission, not dancing at a biker bar."

I could smell his fear and it shot through me, awakening feelings of a feral nature within the darkest recesses of my brain. What does fear smell like? Sweat, sweet and sour all at once, and it's mother's milk to one such as me. Panic is as well. The handful of people scrambling around trying to find makeshift weapons sent me into a frenzy.

The one closest to me, one of the men, was ambrosia as I snapped his neck back and sank my teeth into his throat, just for a quick mouthful. I mustn't waste my dinner; starving children vampires in China, you know.

The warmth of real blood, straight from the source flowed down my throat and a little down my chin. It was just enough to add to the now maniacal scene.

I crouched low and sprung twenty feet into the air in a wide arc, landing in front of the exit door that so many of my prey chose to run. Their screams were like adrenaline, the scent of spent urine almost an aphrodisiac. I liked them like this. I craved it, wanting to make it last, but I knew soon that their poor mortal hearts wouldn't be able to stand the constant pounding. Their minds would snap and then all the fun would be gone.

It was then that I caught the youngest of the men. Tall, firm muscled, fair of hair. He was captured by my gaze. My nipples hardened and I felt everything down below go warm and tight. His fear was gone, now, and in its place was a flow of lust. Ancient and raw was my need and along with it his as well.

My strength and the sharpness of my nails made his slacks a thing of memory. I shoved him roughly against the wall and cocked my leg on his hip, positioning myself for the plunge. Pulling his head to the side to bare his neck I watched as the tendons stretched and the pulse beat under the skin. Lowering my hips I felt him thrust into me and that is when I took his life.

"GAAAH!" I screamed as I woke from the more than vivid nightmare.

There was an ache from between my legs, an emptiness that nearly yearned to be filled, but I'll be damned if I'd do it willingly. Damned, yeah that was me. This was the second day in a row that I had that specific nightmare, and it was starting to grate on my nerves.

I was treated with kid gloves after that first day. I never saw Reynolds again. I don't know if it was because he was scared and wouldn't come back or if he was canned from dealing with me.

The doctors spent the day taking measurements, scans of all types. They nearly shit themselves with scientific orgasmic delight when they took an MRI.

Apparently I have four internal organs now. Yeah. Two lungs, a heart, and something that might be considered a liver. From what they can tell, the heart pumps about once every three or four minutes. The lungs seem to serve no purpose except to allow me enough air to speak; they shrunk, you see. They haven't figured out the liver thing yet. That's why I have virtually no waist and my ribcage seems to be a lot smaller. The biggest things on or in my torso are my breasts.

The thing I can't figure out is why? I mean breasts are for milk for when you have babies, right? I have no ovaries, thank God. So why do I need such friggin big tits? They're D-cup, by the way. Yeah, I have no idea what I'm talking about.

I did find out that I lost an inch in height. I'm 5'8 now. I can curl almost 200 pounds with one arm, and my legs… well lets say you wouldn't want me to kick you in the balls. You might very well never find them again.

I can see at night almost as well as the day. And when I'm in a feeding hunger my vision increases to the point where I can count the peach fuzz hairs on the shell of your ear from fifty feet away.

Perkins, the guy who saved everyone's bacon with the blood, seriously needs to get laid. I can smell the virginity waving off of him and it's really starting to make me horny whenever I'm around him. Don't misunderstand me. I don't want him in any sexual way. He just smells good, and it makes my nipples hard just being around him. Who'd have ever thought I would tell anyone that?

'Hey, Elliot, my nipples are hard. Man I could sure use some lovin' right about now? No, not from you, just in general.'

No, not me.

One last thing and then I'll get off the subject. I found a mirror. Jesus H Christ on a popsicle stick! Where was I when I was a guy?

~O~

I got dressed in my stretch-o clothes. They still haven't gotten me anything normal. I was beginning to think the costumers around here are a bunch of pervs. How about some jeans and a t-shirt sometime? I also had a fridge stocked full with blood bags. As much as I could drink. It was pretty much a standing order if I wanted to walk around unescorted than I had to feed each time before leaving my room.

They did have little rest areas, small refrigerators with a few bags, at regular intervals around places I was allowed. It's not much, but I'm not entirely a prisoner. Apparently I got points the first day for not eating anyone.

When I finally got a move on I opened my door. That's when the bloodsmell hit me. If I hadn't just eaten I would have gone nuts. The corridor was empty, but that wasn't out of the ordinary. People tend to stay clear of me. Well, then I just followed my nose.

It led me to the big room, the gym. I prepared myself and cracked the door just a little. Yep, it was here. There was an obstruction behind the door that made it a little more difficult to open, so I pushed. A bloodied arm dropped to the side. I say arm, because there wasn't much else attached to it, namely a hand.

My eyes fluttered for a second, overwhelmed by the sight so much blood. Even satiated as I was it was still attractive. Kind of like a nice piece of hot apple pie after you finish a really good meal. I let the door close again and backed up to get my … whatever it was, under control.

Three or four steps away was a big red button. My guess? Either a fire alarm or a panic button. Either way the damn cavalry needs to ride up, pronto. I was there before I knew it and slamming the palm of my hand against the button. It cracked and broke apart, but it served it's life long purpose and made lots of noise and activated the pretty red lights.

Thirty seconds later armed shock troops were filling the halls telling me to freeze and other lame TV clichés. I pointed to the Gym and someone in charge decided it would be a good idea to check it out.

They found the same thing I did and one of them even came running back out to lose his lunch. I kind of know how he feels, in the exact opposite.

"Don't you move," said the lead guy.

Once the door closed I was able to clear my head a little.

"Yo, dumbass. Do I look like I'm covered in blood and gore? It wasn't me."

"Hastings, lower your weapon." My eyes didn't leave the trigger finger of the guy pointing his machine gun at me. But a white coat was pushing his way to the front of the party. It was Harris, the lead scientist, the one I freaked out the other day. "Go check the security cameras. Get a line on what happened." He turned to me. "Miss Reeves, come with me."

We filtered through the sea of heavily armed men and out of the wing where I had been held. The fresh air was a blessing. It cleared my head and let me focus on the matter at hand.

"What the fuck, Doc."

"Hold your questions until we are within a secure area, Miss Reeves."

Two really heavy doors later and we ended in a conference room straight out of the latest sci-fi flick. A dozen flatscreens lined one wall with a control panel underneath. There was a central conference table with a some type of heads-up display that showed the grounds, buildings and sub-levels. One in particular was flashing red. I'll give you only one guess which one.

Harris' fingers flew across an imaged keyboard and audio came over the speakers that surrounded the room. "Security."

"Harris authentication code Beta 5724 Epsilon."

A half second passed. "Go ahead, Doctor."

"Send me what you have."

"Acknowledged — sent."

The wall of flatscreens lit up and there was the Gym from about a billion different angles. There were two guys and a lady doctor in there running through the latest test results. Yeah I know this because I've been bored to tears watching them do this before.

The scene fast forwarded, stopped and rewound. "There."

My eyes centered on one of a dozen of sky lights as it exploded inward. Something blurred around the room and bodies literally exploded. My hand moved to my mouth. I have no idea why. Maybe to hold back the revulsion? At least I could see what was happening without the haze of bloodlust hovering in the back of my mind.

The last to die was the women. She was shoved, face against the wall, and her slacks were ripped from her. Oh Jesus. The guy pulled her head to the side and kneed up one of her legs. I turned away, because I knew what came next. I dreamed it after all.

This time I really did feel sick, and I didn't even have a stomach to empty. How's that for ironic?

"Miss Reeves."

I looked back. On the main screen in the middle was a blown up frozen frame of the killer, someone I thought long dead already. It was the Ripper, the fucker that made me what I am today.

My jaw was working but nothing was coming out. Well, until something actually came out. "I — I killed him."

Harris' voice got all sorts of calm, but focused. "This is the person that attacked you?"

I couldn't take my eyes off the face set in ecstasy as he just got through raping and killing the young doctor.

"Miss Reeves, focus."

I broke away and leaned into the conference table inadvertently setting off a few of its functions. "That's him."

"You said you killed him. What exactly did you do?"

I swallowed imaginary bile down my throat. "I tore a chunk out of his wrist with my teeth and shot him in the heart, point blank, with a .45 hollow point. "I painted the wall behind him with his insides, Doc."

He didn't waste any time digging for more. "What else?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. I passed out. I was missing half my throat at the time. Sorry I didn't record the event for posterity's sake , Doc."

His fingers flew over the keyboard once again, replaying the scene in the Gym. Harris was freaking heartless, or he had a cast iron stomach.

"Elliot."

Harris stopped the playback. "What?"

"My partner. He was on scene. He'd know what happened to the body."

The doctor shook his head. "It was incinerated, Miss Reeves. There was incident at the morgue later that night. An attendant was killed. The killer known as the Ripper was shot once more and a higher power than me decided that the threat was too great. The Ripper was summarily incinerated and his ashes scattered."

Somehow I wasn't so shocked. Vampires: bullets weren't supposed to slow them down much. "Well how do you explain that?"

Harris looked casually to the screen and then back to me. "Would you like a chance to find out?"

~O~

"Oh, that's nice." I almost drooled at the display of bladed weapons hanging on the wall and the open display case of handguns. What the hell kind of secret government, superhero, black ops place is this. I know I kidded around with it earlier but damn!

"We weren't really ready for you," Harris explained. "Your physical abilities haven't been tested to their various limits, but judging from what I saw on the cameras and your tests to date I can make an educated guess."

"Uh-huh." Whatever. I was still checking out the … ohhhhh… daddy wants.

I reached down and withdrew the largest hand cannon I had ever seen.

"Smith & Wesson Model 500," Harris began with the tutorial. "Arguably the most powerful handgun in production today."

I flicked the cylinder open and noted it took five rounds. Well, if what ever you are shooting with this thing got up afterward you were pretty much screwed anyway.

"We have special ammo that will be useful, considering your target."

I really didn't care. "I'll take two, thanks."

A new voice sounded behind me. This really took me off guard considering how sensitive my hearing was. I must have really been focused… yeah, I think that's the word I'm looking for, focused. "Miss Reeves?"

It was the bag lady from the hospital. The one that gave me my stretchy outfit. "Oh hey… uh."

She was carrying a garment bag and a large box. "You may call me Suzanne. I have your uniform."

Oh, good, real clothes!

I set down my new toy and walked over to where she hung up the bag. I opened the box and there was a pair of matte black leather boots with a reasonably low chunky heel. Maybe two inches. Okay, that was cool enough. What she produced out of the garment bag was almost funny. Remember, what I said was, almost.

"Uh, where's the rest of it?"

Black and red leather pants and a matching… uh. I don't have a clue. It was small.

"It's called a bustier."

"Uh-huh." I backed away a single step. "I'm going on a hunt and kill mission, not dancing at a biker bar."

She rolled her eyes at me. "This uniform was developed for extreme treatment and durability in the field."

"Ye–ah, there's not enough material on it to tear. That makes it pretty durable in my book."

I could see her annoyance increase. Hell, she didn't have to wear the damn thing, I did!

"It's made specifically to contain your breasts, and provide support and shielding to most of your vulnerable areas." At that she apparently lost all patience with me. "Take off your top."

I groaned but complied. I took the smallish porno thing and put it on. Several clips in front were fastened and then she made some adjustments.

"Uh, Suzanne. I thought you said it was supposed to cover my breasts." It was nowhere near what Momma Reeves would consider cover since half of my tits were showing and there was a big V-neck that extended below my cleavage.

"I said contain, not cover." She stepped back and nodded then handed me the pants. "Okay bottoms off, underwear too."

She was enjoying this. Bitch.

I slid the leathers up my legs. It actually felt pretty good, but I don't normally get a happy from clothing. When I had them over my hips she folded the sides down and peeled back what looked like double-sided tape, but not really, and then folded them up.

Huh, I guess it was tape. Everything hugged my every curve. It was damn comfortable and not really tightish like leather normally is. It made me think this wasn't your average leather porno outfit.

"The uniform will withstand normal fire, and most small caliber and bladed weapons. Please stay away from laser based weaponry. You should have complete freedom of movement. Foot!"

I saw she was on her knees in front of me holding my boot. I followed her direction and once I was, what could laughably be called dressed, I stretched. Damn. She was right. The outfit was probably the best thing I ever felt and if it withstood what she said…

Harris was behind me slipping a holster belt around my waist for Suzanne to attach to the pants. It rode low on my hips so the grips of my revolvers didn't dig in my sides.

"Hey, uh, why leave so much skin in between bare?"

There was about four or five inches of midriff showing, and while sexy as all hell, it wasn't really practical.

"If you are going to be wounded, it should be there. You'll be able to heal almost any damage short of bisection."

"Uh-huh." Well that was comforting. "And you know this, why?"

Harris butted his head in. "Remember the guy we incinerated. You shot him through the heart."

Oh yeah, well use logic why don'tcha.

"Here, hold out your left hand."

I did and Suzanne slipped a really, really long fingerless glove up my arm. After doing the double sided tape thing again it was secure at my shoulder. She did the same thing to the other arm as well. After that she snapped thick black Wonder Woman bracelets on my wrist.

Standing back she took me in. "Oh, I almost forgot!"

I rolled my eyes. "Nipple rings?"

She opened the box the boots came in and pulled out a strip of material. "Pull your hair out of the way."

I gathered up the mop on my head and she put a form fitting collar around my neck. Hanging from it was the company symbol. I finally remembered where I had seen that logo. "Oh crap. You're them."

She gave me a soft laugh. "As you already know, being a former detective. If anyone sees you with that, you're given free reign, a get out of jail free card. It also acts as a two way radio and GPS so that we can keep track of your movements. I heard a small click and it was secured.

I figured this was as good a time as any to ask. "Why are you trusting me not to just run off and eat people at random?"

Harris fielded that question. "That collar you have around your neck? If you go rogue then I send out a signal and it explodes. There's no hiding from us."

My hand blurred as it shot out and I grabbed his throat. "Take it off!"

He gurgled a little.

I heard Suzanne shift away out of reach. "Once it goes on, there's no taking it off. It would take hours."

Applying enough pressure to make him really feel it, I dragged him to me. He was close enough to hear everything that I whispered to him.

"You better pray to whatever god you worship that I never get this thing off. Because when I do, you're a dead man."

"Uurp," he replied.

"I served this city, and look what happened to me. I'm a fucking vampire and I had my masculinity taken away from me." I watched as his face turned a nice shade of red, going on into purple. "I can deal. You don't hear me crying or complaining over something that I can't change. I volunteered to help you, and you are seriously fucking me over. Think about it, Harris."

By this time his eyes were starting to roll up in his head and I let him go. He dropped to the floor and wheezed roughly. Suzanne was eyeing me with extreme caution as I made my way over to the gun counter.

"Ammo." I snapped.

"Underneath," she replied shakily.

I saw a little finger hole and pulled up on it. Beneath the cover was a box of ammunition for the hand cannon I admired earlier. One by one I slid the massive cartridges into the five empty holes in the cylinder.

"You said these were special. In what way?" I swear I wasn't trying to sound supremely pissed, but when someone snaps a bomb on your body, normal people tend to take it hard. Maybe it's just me.

"They're thermal rounds."

I nodded appreciatively, closed the cylinder and holstered the weapon. Then I did the same thing with another and holstered it on the left side. I was feeling slightly Gunslinger-ish.

Suzanne seemed to have revived the good Doctor Harris enough to where he was kneeling on the floor instead of wheezing and rolling around grabbing his neck. "I have a coat for you. I didn't have enough time to make one to your specs, but it should work well enough."

I looked back at her while I perused the rest of the weapons. I wanted to stay as light as possible for speed since I hadn't really had a chance to test this body out as of yet, so I ignored all the fancy automatic weapons and instead looked at the bladed variety.

Taking a look down at my boots I saw that there was a knife on the outside of both. I slipped one of them out and then replaced it. Suzanne was there holding out the coat like I was going to bite her.

"You didn't just start making this crap did you? I mean this uniform."

She looked a little nervous. I saw the blood rising to her face in reaction to being near me. "I…I've had the material it wasn't that hard once I had your specifications. A lot of this stuff is standard uniforms for our field agents.

I gave her a steely glare and gestured to my tits. "This is standard?"

She shrugged with a slight wince. "Well, not the top."

I snatched the coat out of her hands and put it on with a flourish. It seemed like a fairly standard female-style trench coat. It settled around my knees and cut in at my waist to show off my figure even with it being as billowy as it was. I went back and grabbed the ammo box for the cannons, found a pocket and dumped them in. It was only another ten rounds, but they were freaking huge.

"Uh…"

"What." I snapped.

"You have sleeves on your belt for the extra cartridges."

I reached back and felt along the belt. "Oh, cool."

I loaded them up and was able to add a few more from another box. Now I was loaded for bear, hippos, large elephants, maybe a sperm whale or two. You gotta love America and their obsession with making things really freakin' big.

I grabbed a nice hunting knife that would make Rambo proud, and slid it and it's sheath into a coat pocket. "Oh, sweet, I want the bent machete."

Suzanne reached up and withdrew a two foot long blade. "It's a Falcata."

I reached out for it. "Whatever, gimmie."

"It's specifically made to dismember your opponent."

"Sweet." I was a kid in a candy store.

"Grenades?"

I actually thought about it. "Nah, that's a little overkill, don't ya think?"

She looked down at the massive guns on my hips and blinked. "Yeah, overkill."

Suzanne shook her head slightly and turned to Doctor Harris who was smartly keeping the conference table between me and himself. Still rubbing at his neck and giving me a 'look' he slid over a billfold. His eyes tracked to Suzanne and she explained.

"Your identification should you need it." Opening the billfold she showed me a building pass to get onto the grounds, a credit card for incidentals in the field, and my I.D.

"Rayne Reeves?"

She looked at me and her eyebrow arched slightly. "You expect to be called Wayne with those breasts?"

I pursed my lips and grabbed the billfold, stuffed it in my jacket pocket.

~O~

The only way how I knew to start this thing, besides going downtown and picking up the case files again, was to use what vampiric gifts that were given to me, namely scent.

An elevator at the end of the hall took Suzanne and me to the service level. Harris decided to wait until I was gone to depart into hidey holes unknown. We entered a locked doorway that held a single ladder that led up and deposited us onto the roof of that particular building.

Luckily the sun was behind a layer of clouds that covered the entire sky. Maybe some rain later in the evening, who knows?

I spotted the skylight that had been smashed. My keen detective skills were at work here, don'tcha know. Upon approach I waved Suzanne back and closed in on the area in question. His scent was still strong. I recognized it, because to me it was unmistakable. It was the cologne the Ripper wore.

A little chill ran down my spine as I briefly flashed back to the elevator at the Clairemont and the effect the rat bastard had on me. I don't think I'd ever forget his smell. At the same time it revolted me it made lower parts of my anatomy react. Now I'm truly squicked.

I followed the scent trail to the edge of the building and took another deep whiff. He jumped, or flew. I wondered if I could turn into a bat.

After scanning the horizon on the off chance the psycho was out there, I turned back to Suzanne.

"I need wheels or cash for a taxi."

She gestured to my jacket. "Inside left pocket. You've got two hundred. Right outer pocket are keys to two vehicles that are waiting for you in the parking garage."

We retired to said garage and I stood there looking at the choices I had. A Chevy Impala, which if you are a cop, is pretty standard fare. It had the Interceptor package installed, which basically means it's durable and fast. Cool enough.

I also had a motorcycle. It was a BMW so don't go all, 'oh coooool'. It was a K1200RS with all the bells and whistles. The engine was obviously modified, at least in my eyes. It would be a lot faster than the regular German ride. I was tempted to take the Impala just for familiarity's sake, but I need to track a scent on the move.

Suzanne motioned to the saddle pack at the rear of the bike. "That's a cooler. You have a single day's worth of blood in there. You'll need to return or make arrangements elsewhere."

Arrangements. Food for thought, no pun intended.

I straddled the bike and withdrew the keys.

"Good luck, Rayne."

I winced at the name. It sounded too close to my own, just with a little Asian accent at the beginning. That was going to take some getting use to.

I circled the perimeter until I found his scent and then picked up speed. I didn't make it three city blocks before the trail came to an end at an outdoor parking lot. Obviously this guy had a car and I was at a dead end.

I did find some footprints in the gravel, but I already knew what the guy looked like. I had his face, body and scent burned in my mind for eternity. There were too many tire tracks around to determine exactly which one his car belonged to so I was back to square one. That only meant one thing.

~O~

2nd Precinct was located off of Pierce Street downtown. It was my stomping grounds as of last week. I didn't necessarily own the place, but I wasn't an unknown either. I wasn't exactly sure of what might happen when I returned, but I needed information and they were the ones most in the know.

I parked the bike in the visitors lot, made my way around front and up the stairs. With a cleansing breath I pushed open the door and almost immediately sighed.

The scents of familiar surroundings assaulted my nose. Old burnt coffee, sweat, gun oil, cheap perfume; it was like coming home.

The front of the house was as noisy as ever, but since it was late in the day things hadn't really picked up to what I normally used to see at night. A quick scan around and I saw a number of faces I recognized. The duty officer at the front desk, Reilly, two beat cops at the coffee machine, Smith and Yates, the twitchy street kid sitting in waiting, Myerson.

Reilly's eyes were on me the second I walked in the door. Why not put him out of his misery and let him know he didn't have a chance getting me in the sack? I walked up to the main desk. My boot falls made almost no noise on approach.

"May I help you?"

It was hard to tell if his eyes were on my OTO medallion or on my tits. I guess that's why they put it there.

"I need to talk to Detective Elliot Jameson."

I could tell it took supreme effort for Reilly to drag his eyes away and pull up El's current location, but they were right back in place when he got his information. "He's just in. I'll call him up."

With a scowl I lifted my hand up and snapped my fingers in his face a couple of times. "Up here, Reilly. My eyes are up here." How do chicks with tits like mine deal with it? I'm gonna get my revenge on Suzanne for this stupid outfit. I really am.

I turned and paced to the side, leaned into the counter and then realized it did nothing but make things worse, so I crossed my arms. Have you ever tried crossing your arms with massive breasts? It's impossible. You'll look ridiculous and it's not exactly comfortable. So I tried crossing them underneath the mounds, which did nothing but push them together and emphasize things even more. Jesus!

Twitchy Myerson was watching me out of the corner of his eye. Forget going undercover ever again. I was like a freaking beacon to the male species. Sex on heels, waiting to make every perverted fantasy of theirs a mind blowing reality. I might as well been holding a sign up in the air screaming, 'fuck me, fuck me right now'.

I heard the squeak-clunk of the Pit door open to the side, and turned to see my former partner exiting.

He didn't even have to inquire who was asking for him. It was either me or Twitchy and he is a Detective.

"May I hellll, holy fucking shit!"

I gave him hard eyes that basically told him to shut the hell up. Reilly's face broke and he was about to laugh at the foot El was shoving into his own mouth.

Elliot got it together, but couldn't take his eyes off of me. Thankfully they weren't solely locked on my breasts, but I did notice they found their way there a few times. I needed to break the ogle-fest.

"Can we talk somewhere, privately?"

His jaw was working and then his voice finally kicked in. "Uh, yeah, come on."

He led me into the Pit, basically a bullpen of cubicles where the lower end detectives who really hadn't made a name for themselves were regulated. Only the ranking officers actually had offices of their own. It looked like any office that you may have been underprivileged to have seen in your life. It's not like the cop shows on TV anymore.

We made our way to his particular cubical and I looked around. We were relatively alone in the general area, but I had the gaze of every male in the room who was standing up and a few who's heads were popping over their own spaces to see what all the hushed whispering was about. I'm now the official starter of departmental hubbub. My increased hearing also let me in on the fact that my ex-partner still hadn't gotten laid since the last time I saw him. That makes his chastity streak almost six months in duration. Isn't office gossip a bitch?

We both took a seat and I subconsciously crossed my legs. El leaned into his desk, weight on his forearms. "Jesus, Wayne, when did you get out? And what the hell is with the outfit?"

I kept an ear out for any eavesdroppers that might be brave or horny enough to listen in. "It's Rayne now."

"Rayne?"

I rolled my eyes in agreement. "They aren't very original at the OTO.

His eyes dropped to my medallion. "You're one of them now?"

I nodded. "Reluctantly." At his inquiring look I explained. "They were helping me figure out what happened and what I can expect with this." I gestured to my body. "But then something happened and I'm now an agent trying to fix it."

"Is that why you're here?"

I nodded. "It's the Ripper."

El's eyes widened, but confusion took over his features quickly after. "He's dead. They cremated him. I saw the ashes after."

I heard something to my right, an eavesdropper, and from the smell of him it was Sullivan, the head office gossiper and occasional pain in my ass when I was male. I kicked at the wall of the cubical. "Fuck off, Sullivan."

The sound of shuffled shoes made their way back to where they came. I shook my head. "He's either not dead, or he's got a pissed off identical twin running around, because he killed three people about two hours ago."

Elliot jerked upright. "What? I haven't heard anything!"

"It was at the OTO facilities out on Baypark. Apparently they take care of their own problems." After a minute's thought I added, "I think he was tracking me, El. Taunting me. He killed three scientists and I was right down the hall. He could have easily tracked me, surprised me, and killed me, but he didn't."

He mulled that over for a few moments. "You're here for the case file." It wasn't a question. He knew why I was there. We had learned to think alike. We were partners for a couple of years; it happens.

With a jerk of my head in acknowledgement he got up. "Come on, it's in Closed Case."

Right before I stood he grabbed my arm. "Hey, uh… Rayne."

I looked down at the hand on my forearm and he withdrew it. I wasn't being pissy and he wasn't offended. I just wasn't used to being touched recently when there wasn't a needle involved.

He looked a little embarrassed. "That fucking rumor is still going around."

I grinned a little. "Still haven't gotten laid, El?"

He grimaced at me. "I told you last week that I got some at the Mayflower."

"Hookers don't count, El. You know that."

His face flushed even more. "It wasn't a hooker."

"Uh-huh."

Elliot looked to the side. He knew he wasn't going to win. "Look, help a brother out here."

I hadn't gotten what he was asking. It actually took me a second to figure it out. With a roll of my eyes I looked down and then shrugged out of my trench coat. "If we're going to do this, then let's do it right."

He turned back and his eyes lit up in muted excitement. "Holy crap, what the hell it that!"

Yeah, he was looking at the hand cannon strapped to my left thigh. I grinned and withdrew it from the holster, flipped it around and handed it off. "S&W 500. They give me nice toys."

He took the offered grip and I let go. His hand dropped visibly in the air. Well the thing did weigh almost five pounds.

"Christ, I'm getting a hard-on here."

My grin widened. "I noticed." I did notice, and it wasn't from my elephant gun. I knew what I looked like and I also knew he hadn't had sex in a while. I could smell it on him. I'd know.

He flicked open the cylinder and withdrew one of the cartridges. With a low whistle he slid it back in and handed it back to me. "Need some company?"

We both had an appreciation for fine weaponry. I really didn't know if it was this body or the 500 that he was more attracted to. Maybe he was thinking about using me to get one of those guns? What are the odds?

I slung the trench coat over one forearm and stood. "Come on let's get this farce over with. But I'm warning you. If your lips come anywhere near me, I'm drawing down."

He laughed appreciatively. "Deal, and Wayne, thanks for this."

I shook my head as we stood. "It's Rayne now. Don't let these assholes know I'm a chick."

He cocked his arm and I slid my hand through as he led me through the Pit, the long way around, to the stairs on the opposite side of the room. He had a shit-eating grin on his face and I tried my best to look sexy and dangerous for all the tongue-waggers. It wasn't very hard.