Disclaimer: The worlds of SVU and Supernatural don't belong to me, rather they are the property of Dick Wolf and Robert Singer. Thanks for letting me steal them for crossover fics guyz.

A/N: Contributions from my friend Pixiealamode are in this story, in her ideas and written words. She's too chicken shit to post any of her own stories, so if you like what you see let her know! Reviews always appreciated.

Olivia Benson stared at the tiny bloodless body that lay on the park steps. The child's head had nearly been bitten off, the soft pink tissue of his neck oozing out of the side. The lack of blood frightened Olivia the most. Her partner Elliot Stabler looked like he was about to be ill. Several other officers surrounded the broken body with horrified looks on their face. They had seen a lot on the beat but nothing compared to this.

"Alright people, lets collect evidence before the sun goes down." Stabler broke the silence. "Lets get justice for this kid." Everyone began to move at once. The crime scene crew crawled along the grass looking for evidence. While the medical examiner plucked tiny strands of rock particles from the child's finger nails.

"This is gonna be a tough one." Olivia breathed and stuck her hands in her pocket. The New York spring was barely beginning; she could see the frost glittering on the child's eyelashes.

"Yeah, especially now that we have these government chimps clogging up the machine." Munch grumbled. He pointed across the tree lawn at three men. They wore dark suites and flashed badges at the witness. Though for FBI they had awfully coiffed hair. One of them even had hair longer than his collar.

"Wonder if I should do my hair like that." Tutuola mimed throwing longer hair over his shoulder. His face was expressionless which made Olivia crack a smile.

"What are you guys doing here?"

"Well, we're working a case just like this. Kid found in a dumpster two blocks from here completely drained of blood. Chief told us about your case so we decided to pay you a visit." Munch explained, sipping his coffee.

"Well at least you guys are here. Elliot sucks at talking to suits." The named officer shot his partner a look of contempt as she chuckled. The suits stalked their way across the grassy knoll.

"Dean, this is a bad idea." Sam hissed as they walked towards a group of police officers.

"It'll be fine Sam."

"Dean, we are wanted felons in like three states and Castiel can barely tie a shoe lace, let alone act." Sam was trying to keep his voice low but the vein in his forehead was nearly popping out.

"Hey!" The angel look offended for a split second before deflating. "Your brother is right," he sighed despite the insult.

Dean stopped mid stride to face them. Annoyance was clearly written on his face. "Some vamp murdered this little kid. It's our job to find it and kill it. If I have to talk to some cops to stop the vamp I will."

"Oh my god this is so bad." Sam's bitch face was at maximum strength. Dean began to walk towards the police again. Of course, Sam and Castiel followed.

The crime scene was crawling with New York City's finest, and Dean quickly deduced that the two officers in charge were the ones meaning to greet them. "Benson and Stabler, special victims unit," a tall, dark-haired man with a pointed, boxy face flashed him a badge. His partner, an attractive brunette who looked to be in her mid forties, regarded them silently with a look on her face that made Dean wish he'd listened to his brother—instant suspicion.

Not good. Dean pushed his sunglasses farther up onto the bridge of his nose, hoping it might hide his face. He and Sam had had one too many scrapes with the law these past few years, but he would be damned if detective hot pants got in the way of him catching whatever had done this. There was something wrong about the way these kids had been killed. It stank of something he didn't like and he wanted to get to the bottom of it.

"Sherlock, Starsky and Hutch. FBI," Castiel murmured solemnly, flashing the two detectives his badge. They stared at him, and then exchanged a meaningful glance with each other.

Dean rolled his eyes. "You'll have to excuse our partner. He's uh… recovering from dramatic surgery and he's not quite himself."

"Yes," Castiel agreed, playing along. "I recently had a tumor removed from my testicle."

"All right, look ass clowns," the male detective interrupted gruffly before Dean could think of an excuse for that last remark. "Whether you're really from the FBI or you're just a few morons, this is SVU's jurisdiction. We've got everything under control here."

"Relax," Sam intoned, taking a friendly step towards the pair. He spread his palms and plastered his best reasonable-and-caring-Sam look on his face. "We both want the same thing—to catch the creep that did this. Internal affairs sent us out due to the… special nature of the crime. Do you mind if we take a look around?"

"We were just going to talk to our medical examiner and get an update ourselves if you want to tag along," the brunette detective offered. Without waiting for an answer, she gently tugged on the male detective's shoulder and the two of them milled over to a black woman in a lab coat. She was bent over the victim, clearly examining it meticulously. Sam, Dean and Castiel followed.

"What do we got, Melinda?" the brunette asked her, looking down at the child's body somberly.

"Hell if I know, Liv," the Medical Examiner replied. "I've never seen anything like this. Vic was orally raped and sodomized—evidence of forced entry. Unidentified murder weapon. The tearing is like nothing I've seen before. It almost seems like an animal did this, except…"

"Except?"

Melinda frowned. "The victim is completely drained of blood." Dean felt his skin crawl. Raped? Vampires didn't normally bother raping their victims; they were too busy eating them. Either it was a different monster or this was one sick vampire.

"Sounds like some pervert with some kind of vampire fetish," the brunette detective said, surprising him. Her face looked slightly green.

Dean wasn't feeling too good himself. "Did anyone notice any strange activity around here?" he asked, now purposely trying not to look at the boy with half his throat missing. The medical examiner had put a sheet over the body, but he could still see the mangled outline of what could be a vampire's bite marks on the single small hand Melinda was examining."Lots of young women living in one area, but only coming out at night?"

"They're called whorehouses," the male detective growled. "Listen, why don't you suits step aside and let us do our jobs?"

Dean could see that he wasn't going to get anywhere with this guy. He clearly had an attitude problem and didn't trust the feds. He was probably going to have to work on the brunette more if he wanted to get anywhere with SVU. They had to be willing to do at least some of the legwork for them if they were going to sniff out this bastard. The whole mess stank of some random procedural cop show. He hated random procedural cop shows.

He cleared his throat, "The FBI needs to be informed of every new lead in this investigation. This is my card," he handed the brunette detective his card and gave her his most charming smile. It helped to be as handsome as he was when he needed to win over the ladies.

"This is bull shit," the male detective growled furiously. "There are bodies dropping—kids."

"Come on El, they're just doing their jobs," the brunette said gently, putting her hands in her pockets. She eyed Dean uncertainly as she said this, however. "If we have to cooperate with them, we might as well be civil and work together to close this case."

"I still want to talk to your superior," Detective Stabler continued, jabbing his finger at Dean.

"All right, cool your jets Rambo," Dean said as he reached into his pocket and gave him another official looking card that would only lead him to one of Bobby's aliases. "Just remember, if you uncover anything strange, to give us a call," he looked at the lady cop for emphasis as he said this. She nodded and handed him her own personal card. Dean pocketed it and led Sam and Castiel away from the crime scene.

"Think it's a vampires nest?" Sam asked once they were out of earshot.

"Yeah, a nest full of vampire perverts," Dean replied as he tried not to remember the two mangled bodies of the victims.

"Strange," Sam agreed. "I've never seen this before, but there's a first time for everything. Do you suppose that if a pedophile is turned, he maintains those characteristics when he feeds?"

"I don't see why not," Dean answered. "I dunno if it's a whole nest full of vampire pervs or just the one that killed that kid, but we gotta find out quick. I didn't like the looks of those two detectives. Especially officer cougartown—did they say her name was Liv? In between checking me out there was some suspicion there and it unnerved me."

"Are you sure you're not imagining her interest, Dean? " Castiel piped up. "I noticed only her looks of suspicion and concern for your psychological well being. I know because I see you and Sam give each other those looks so often. Unless you are attracted to each other and I had misconstrued it? Human behavior is so odd."

Sam and Dean groaned, choosing to ignore his last comment.

"Jesus, who the hell were those idiots?" Stabler asked incredulously to no one in particular as he and Olivia sat eating their lunch at their desks in the bullpen—fried rice and general tsoas chicken. So far there had been no new leads on the case. No one around the neighborhood had seen anything. Without any witnesses, all they could do was wait for DNA results from the lab that would identify the vic and hopefully the perp as well if they fit any profiles.

"Dunno, but I thought at least one of them looked familiar." Olivia frowned, wondering why she couldn't remember. "The pretty one… I felt like I'd seen him before."

"Yeah, he was pretty all right," Elliot grumbled. "Pretty stupid."

"Something was definitely off about the one in the trench coat, I'll give you that," Olivia said as she finished putting down all the fried rice and opened a carton of lo mein.

"Maybe we should take a closer look at them," Elliot said, absently stabbing a piece of orange chicken with a plastic fork and popping it into his mouth. "Perps always return to the scene of the crime. The whole thing with them was weird, Liv. I've never seen or heard of them and we've run into a lot of suits over the years. They kept asking to let them know if we saw anything strange. Strange? This whole case is like something from the X-files and you wanna hear about what's strange? They were pretty god damn strange."

Olivia shrugged. "Well, they check out. I called internal affairs."

"With the number they gave you?" Elliot asked.

"Yeah," Olivia replied. "I suppose it was weird, and I still have that nagging feeling in my gut. I'll call it again and we'll trace the number."

"Or have Munch do it, since he left us high and dry," Elliot replied loudly as the detective in question arrived in the bullpen with Fin in tow. "Where the hell were you guys? Those feds we had to talk to were screaming idiots. I can all ready tell this case is going to be a nightmare."

"Tell me about it," Munch agreed, plopping onto his desk and seizing a carton of chinese from Olivia's desk.

"Cragen had us go back to the other crime scene with the kid in the dumpster because a witness identified the body. Kayla Dornes, eight years old. Not raped or sodomized like the other vic, but tortured and beaten by the looks of it. Those guys you were talking to showed up once we got done cross examining the witness, looking for intell. They're up to something if you ask me."

"Well, Munch can make it up to Elliot by calling the internal affairs number they gave us and having it traced. Can't you Munch?" Olivia asked, grinning at the detective as she handed him the card the boys had given her.

An hour later, Benson and Stabler went to see Melinda and the case got more complicated. "The perp left DNA, all right. But it doesn't make any sense. I ran the test over and over again."

She shook a few dark ringlets of hair out of her face.. "Perp is a registered pedophile. Thing is… he's dead."

Olivia blinked. "Huh?"

Melinda clicked the spacebar on her computer and showed them the database with photos of the leering man. He had the stereotypical look of a pedophile—elderly, with wispy hair and a double chin. "Tom Clark, a registered pedophile found murdered in his home last year. Cold case. Vic didn't leave a trace and Clark wasn't popular with the neighbors."

"Maybe someone planted the evidence?" Olivia asked no one in particular. "But how did the perp get DNA from a pedophile that died a year ago, and what for?"

"Something stinks," Elliot grumbled.

Sam, Dean and Castiel were equally perplexed. By the time evening rolled around, all they knew was that little Kayla Dornes had gone missing a few days ago. Kayla's parents seemed terrified of them and Dean suspected it was because they were illegal immigrants. He didn't feel particularly thrilled about drilling them. Their lives seemed lousy enough as it was without their daughter getting maimed by a vampire.

Sam elected to do research, and Dean decided to drink. Castiel tagged along to a bar in Manhattan, where Dean opened a tab and went to town. "It's one thing to be a monster, Cas," he rumbled, all ready buzzing after only a few shots. His stomach was empty, after all-he hadn't had much of an appetite after seeing the medical examiner pull pebbles out of that little boy's tiny fingernails. "But how often do we run across a mook that has the gall to waste a kid? What a world. When I find that son of a bitch—

"Dean," Castiel interrupted. "Perhaps we should go."

"This is New York, Cas. No one drives. I'm going to drink just as much as I damn well please."

"No, Dean. Look over there. It's officer hot pants, as you called her." Ever the master of discretion, Castiel stood up and pointed straight at the brunette Detective Benson from earlier that day. She sat alone, nursing a beer. An impressive row of empty shot glasses were in front of her.

"She seems troubled," the Angel said, cocking his head at her. "In fact, she seems like she is often troubled. You would get along with her well, Dean."

"Shut up, Cas! And stop pointing at her like she's a circus attraction or she's going to notice us."

Too late. Just then Detective Benson turned and spotted them. Her eyes widened slightly. "Damn!" Dean hissed. "We have to go talk to her now so we don't look suspicious." He tugged his Castiel's arm and straightened his shoulders before striding to Detective Benson's seat with what he hoped looked like confidence.

"Detective Benson," he said, sliding up next top her on the bar and offering her a 1,000 kilowatt smile. Cas took a seat at her other side.

Benson looked around at them warily. "Agents, uh… Sherlock and Starsky, how are you?"

"Ah, you must forgive me my mistake earlier, Detective Benson. Our names are not Sherlock, Starsky and Hutch… as I explained before, my testicles have addled my brain," Castiel volunteered. Dean inwardly facepalmed.

"Then why does it say your name is Agent Sherlock on your business card?" Detective Benson asked, raising a delicate eyebrow.

"Tell you what, sweetheart" Dean said quickly, "All practical jokes on the part of my partner aside," he shot Castiel a scathing look. "We'll tell you our names as soon as you tell us yours. If we're going to be collaborating on this case we might as well be on a first-name basis." He leaned forward a little for effect, hoping she'd get a good whiff of his pheromones.

The detective looked around as though she expected someone to jump out and scream "April Fools!" When that didn't happen, she cleared her throat and replied, "Olivia."

"A pretty name for a pretty lady," Dean said. "I'm Dean, and this is my partner, Cas."

"Cas? Is that short for something?" Olivia asked.

"Yes," Castiel replied. "Castiel. I am an angel of the Lo—I mean, I'm a detective!"

"Dean, is your partner ok?" Olivia asked, looking concerned. "Do I need to call someone?"

"Don't worry about him, he's just an idiot," Dean replied, shooting Castiel another look. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Olivia considered, and then asked the bartender for a double whiskey. "My kind of girl," Dean chuckled. "I'll have the same. Castiel is cut off for the rest of the evening."

Olivia drained her shot and laughed, the drink taking its effect right away. This hadn't been her first. "Someone's sleeping on the couch tonight."

Dean quickly took his shot so she wouldn't see him blush. "I'll ditch him if you come home with me instead."

There was a twinkle in those impressive deep, dark eyes and Dean mused to himself that the Detective really was extremely attractive. He didn't normally go for women that were older than him but in this case he was going to have to consider making an exception. There was something special about Olivia.

"You're used to getting what you want from women, aren't you Dean?" she asked.

"Don't I look like I'm used to getting what I want from women?"

Olivia laughed again, just as a beep signaled her phone going off. "Excuse me, bat signal," she chortled. She glanced down at the screen of her iphone and after a moment her smile vanished.

Uh oh.

She looked up, and the solemn detective Benson had returned. "So, Dean," she said quietly. "You're not really a federal agent are you?"