Disclaimer: I do not own SVU or BTVS. I’m not making a profit out of this. I’m just writing
Summary: Detective John Munch learns some lessons from a spunky brunette.
Authors Note: Written for the September challenge. Hope you all like!
It was a humid night in New York City when Detective John Munch stepped out of the
air-conditioned squad car and onto the sidewalk of 21st street. He
was wearing the standard detective clothes— a nice gray suit with a striped tie
and the usual dark sunglasses. Adjusting his tie, he started walking to the
John followed the yellow crime scene tape to the marked alley. A body bag was being
brought out by the ME and deposited into an ambulance. It was another person
dead in the world.
“You Munch?” a uniform asked, walking up to greet the detective.
Munch eyed the guy and nodded. “That’s Detective Munch to you, Officer.”
The officer in question was a tall stocky fellow with a receding hairline and large
“Hey, I don’t mean no harm,” the officer replied, putting his hands up in defense.
“That’s what they all say,” Munch nodded his head towards the crime scene. “So, what do
we have here?”
“Lola Reynolds,” the officer paled dramatically, a distant look in his eyes.
“First crime scene?” Munch asked sympathetically, and the guy confirmed it with a
Not even bothering to wave goodbye, John ducked under the tape walking those extra
couple of feet to where the body had lye.
His partner, Fin, was off to the side and leaving heavily against the brick wall.
“Tough one, eh?” John raised an eyebrow.
A pool of blood sat where the body had once been. He tried very hard not to look
at the crimson-ness of it and instead shifted his gaze to his African American
Fin cleared his throat, and spoke, “Hot date, Munch?”
“Very hot date; myself, one of my ex-wives and a few lawyers,” John laughed.
This was more familiar territory. Many would find it slightly disturbing that they
were laughing and chattering at a crime scene, but to them they had to laugh,
or those nightmares that they had at night would become reality.
“Only you,” Fin smirked.
He pulled a small black pad from his pocket –standard for detectives, of course-
and flipped it open.
“Victim’s name was Lola Reynolds,” Fin read. “Sixteen-years-old, lives in Manhattan…”
“Any idea why she was out at two in the morning?” Munch interrupted, taking off the
now fogged sunglasses
Fin glanced up and met John’s eyes.
“Not yet. Perp was injured with what appears to be a stake,” he answered, confusion
evident in his voice.
Fin nodded and a phone rang. Fin reached into the pocket of his leather coat and
pulled out his cell.
“Fin,” he answered, putting the phone to his ear.
There were only pieces of the one-sided conversation. John could hear the words captain
and we’ll be right there
Hearing a click on the other line, he turned to Fin who was closing the cell.
“The Captain wants us down to the Coroners,” Fin pointed to his car. “M.E found
something; we’ll take my car.”
They arrived at the Coroners twenty minutes later then they had expected. Traffic
was harsh on the George Washington Bridge.
They stepped into the white room and were instantly hit with the smell of burnt
flesh and blood. John turned to the M.E who was standing over the body with a
scalpel in one hand and a light in the other. X-Rays were pinned up to the
light and the victim’s torn clothes were off to the side.
“That was fast,” John commented dryly.
The M.E rolled her eyes.
“Victim was raped then had her blood drained by what looks like a pitchfork,” she
explained, showing the two puncture wounds on the side of the girl’s neck.
“Ouch,” John winced.
“How long has she been dead for?” Fin asked.
“My guess is at least several hours,” the M.E replied.
“She’s not dead.”
Everyone turned to the corner where the voice had projected. The source of the voice was
a female with short brown hair. She was wearing a flow-y white ankle length
dress the accented her curves.
“Who are you?” Fin asked, one hand going to his gun.
The female waved him off and turned her eyes upwards.
“I could have been on the end of receiving lots of orgasms in Heaven with that
Doyle guy!” she shook her fist at the ceiling. “But, nooo, I have to be the one who leads them to their destiny. You guys are going to owe me big.”
“Look lady, I don’t know who you are, but…” John started to say but was cut off.
“I’m Anya, Mr.-I-haven’t-gotten-any-orgasms-in-several-years!” Anya snapped, hands
on her hips.
“Feisty, aren’t you?” Munch laughed.
Anya sighed, and hopped onto the empty slab where a body was supposed to be.
Swinging her legs, she spoke, “Okay, so A. Vampires are real. B. The victim is now a
vamp. And, C. You three have been chosen by the Powers that Be to fight evil.”
“Dr. Warner,” Fin looked at the M.E. “I think you need to call Belleview. Tell them
we have a female in need of psych evaluation. Better yet, call Dr. Wong too.”
The M.E nodded and moved towards the phone. The two SVU detectives turned back to
the woman. What they failed to notice was the victim rising from the exam table, but Anya noticed.
Whipping out a stake from her back pocket, she threw it at the vampire who was close to
closing on the M.E. The stake landed with a meaty thump into the vampire. The doctor and detectives turned just to see, that in that moment the vampire
explode in ashes.
It was dead silence in the exam room. Dr. Warner shakily hung up the phone and they all looked at each other.
“Did you see what I just saw?” Munch clawed at his collar which was fairly too
“The vic, s-she turned into ashes and s-she was alive!” Fin replied, with sweat
beaded at his brow.
“Lesson one,” Anya began. “Vampires are the undead soulless creatures. They will stop at
nothing to get their food and to kill.”
“Lesson two,” she continued. “Vampires can be killed by stake through the heart, holy
water, fire, and beheading.”
“Lesson three,” she met Munch’s eyes. “You’ve been chosen to fight. I’m going to train you. And hopefully, maybe orgasms will play a part in this, too!”