Hey, Thieves here, so here goes nothing I guess. Are you ready for a journey into this little part of my mind. If you are then, well, let's hope this pleases you. On that note I do not reside in a British nation so my terminology will be spotty at best. and for my purposes, and to not ruin the new season I am ignoring those events entirely.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but seriously, nothing, i make no money from this but I have a hell of a lot of fun doing it.

Preview: in which Sherlock meets new people and is less than pleased.

John sat in his chair watching his friends before him. Sherlock stood at the window his arms laced behind his back, cloaked in his dark blue dressing gown and his hair a mess of dark curls. His appearance that of a man at rest though his posture could be that of e decorated general. He had been caseless for days and it was wearing John thin. He was the face of stoic defiance as Lestrade tried his best to persuade him to accept the case he was being presented. Five days prior a women's body had been discovered under suspicious circumstances. That day Sherlock had been wired, ready to be called back into the game but they had never shown. A week later and two more bodies and they had just now shown up at the door. John smirked a bit behind his cup, Sherlock was going to take the case, he had been going on about it for days doing as much research as he could but he was displeased they hadn't called in sooner so he was making the DI sweat a bit.
"Come on Sherlock, that's three girls this week and we have nothing, I need you"
Sherlock grunted, they did need him, they always needed him but since his return six months before they were still a bit slow to consult him. He turned to face Lestrade and read the deductions from him. His face was deeper creased, the bags beneath his eyes darker then most days so he was getting less sleep. His back was hunched and stiff when he walked there was a slight limp to in his step. He had slept on the small sofa in his office at least twice this week but his divorce had been finalized several weeks back so he wasn't staying there to avoid family issues. The press had been rather interested in this case so likely avoiding their eyes. His clothing wrinkled and he had a slightly stale smell to him. He had not changed since the day before and had consumed alcohol on the last twenty four hours. Sherlock took a another deep breath, cigarette smoke, the DI was smoking again.
High stress, lack of sleep, alcohol and nicotine, they did need him.
"How did you survive?" Lestrade popped an eye brow looking at John in question.
"In my absence, how has all of London's considerable criminal community not over whelmed your teams obvious stupidity" he added a little sneer to team as he spun around quickly and with a flourish produced his violin and began to pluck. John shuddered, he had believed his greatest friend dead for two years. When he returned John was ashamed to admit he had not been outwardly pleased their first few interaction after his amazing return had ended in one sided fist fights. But when a bit of time had passed, and a a case that left them both feeling back on their game John had accept it was time to rebuild what he had been so divested to had done just as he had asked and stopped being dead and now several months later he was finding it easier and easier to pretend the fall had never happened at all. He tried to pretend he didn't sometimes wake up sweat pouring down his face and gasping for breath, yelling his friends name in desperation as he relived the moments of his jump in his sleep. Sherlock did him the service of never bringing it up, or mentioning the times he felt John watching him intently from across the room as if to assure him self it had been real.
"John" Lestrade begged him for some form of support
"Yes" Sherlock exclaimed loudly causing both men to jump.
"ah, no, Sherlock, I have work" John gave the DI an apologetic glance.
"Boring" he spun dropped his instrument into his chair and stood facing John his eyes shining a bit, wether from madness or excitement John wasn't sure.
"John, innocent women are dying and you want to go to work, cure colds perhaps" John sighed but was already pulling out his mobile to call in. Sherlock gave a satisfied nod and ran to pull on his coat and scarf.
"So he's coming then?"Lestrade smiled, the first true smile since this whole thing had started. He had been getting hell from this case.
"First I need full access to the corpses" Lestrade nodded in consent to Sherlock's demand. Three women found dead this week all the same his team was stumped and working their hardest to find answers but they had made no head way. People wanted to know how to protect themselves and he wasn't even sure how these girls had died let alone how it could of be avoided. He had been dodging press all week with little success. The public was demanding for him to solve this one before more were found.
"He hasn't shut up about this case since the first body. I'm honestly surprised he even waited for your invitation" John confessed as the walked down the stairs.
"He has been working on it since the first body. Even tried to get Molly to let him take a look"

"Good, I need this case solved" John smiled at his friend placing a well meaning hand on his shoulder.
"You look like shit Greg" his only response was a heavy sight as he headed for his car. Sherlock flagged down a taxi with ease and the men climbed in together.
"You could be a bit nicer to him you know" John looked to Sherlock while the consulting detective watched London pass them by.
"He got in a lot of trouble for the cases you helped with after," John trailed off for a moment. They didn't talk about it.

"he was nearly fired"
"What does it matter who solved the cases, they were solved" Sherlock still didn't pull away from his view.
"If it was so much of hassle for him why is he asking for my help now?"
"Like he said he needs you" they both smiled at that.
As soon as they arrived at Bart's Sherlock swept into the morgue startling Molly as she leaned over her current autopsy.
"The three females from Lestrade's current case" Sherlock demanded with out a greeting.
"He means hello Molly, when your not busy could we take a look at the victims"
"Isn't that what I said?" Sherlock's brows rose in question at the former army doctor. John gave him a disapproving look.
" um yeah well, could you give me a moment my hands are a bit" Molly gestured with her bloodied gloves. Sherlock stepped closer to the corpse and breathed deeply. His eyes gave an analytical scan first of his outer appearance then within his cavity that lay open in front of them.
"54 year old male, in married, high stress job and appalling eating habits resulting in two heart attacks. The final one of which took his life."
"But he died in a car accident" Molly looked pale, she tried to never contradict him.
" He left for work this morning but not before stopping at a fast food establishment and gorging himself. After his meal he began his drive but shortly into it began to feel chest pains. There are fabric threads under his nails but only his left hand because his right stayed on the wheel while he clawed at his chest. He soon lost conciseness and the weight of his body falling forward swerved his car into on coming traffic where he was hit head on. The wounds on the top of his head and face could only happen if he was leaning over the wheel face down, not a good position to drive in if you were alert. He died due to bad eating habits despite having been going to the gym for the last month at his doctors orders. The sweat around his collar despite the cooler weather this last week and slight muscling in his legs despite obviously havering a desk job. Case closed, now the women?" Molly looked stunned but shook herself from her stupor and pulled her gloves off. Pulling the bodies out as he had requested. John shook his head at the mans antics. Sherlock chose to ignore him.
The three victims laid before them Molly moved to uncover their faces but Sherlock stripped the sheets of each so they lay bare. John cringed at his lack of sympathy for the women who had died so young but he had learned long ago to roll with what ever the genius did. He scanned each body himself his mind going into a more professional tone.
They were all in the same age group, mid twenties to early thirties. Their body types where also remarkably similar. Well shaped arms and torsos with ample cleavage and a slim waist and long toned legs, Obviously attractive. The only mar to their perfection the Y shaped red lines with black thread lacing them closed. They differed in hair color, two brunets and a blond but symmetrical facial features. Wide eyes, thick lashes, this noses, and plump lips. They all looked to be in their prime. Clearly caring for themselves. Sherlock was running his eyes over them. Their face clear of make up already so he could not read their personality from that. Molly had washed them before their examination so what ever she found would have already been sent to the lab. Their faces looked younger their they really were, their bodies finely muscled so they worked for their looks, nails all neatly trimmed but not self manicured so they indulged. None married. Signs of sexual intercross though not forced so not rape. They looked to be self confident. In the papers along with the research he had done prior to that afternoon he knew their families spoke of strong women who enjoyed life, the heart of a party over by everyone, adored by the opposite sex in particular. But all poisoned, none had ties to each other out side of their general personality traits. Different careers, different social circles, different friends, no family ties, no jealous exes in common, all died in different places, different times of day, different food, no correlating restaurants. The first was found dead in her office after a meeting when a friend went to retrieve her for lunch. The second in her bed after a night partying, her bed partner had been rather surprised and questioned though Sherlock could have told them he was not involved and saved them the time had they called on him sooner. The final had been that day, she had been running her normal morning regimen at her gym when she had simply dropped dead.
" John I need you to go to Lestrade question anyone who saw the third women that morning in the gym particularly any heterosexual males who would have taken notice of her. Molly send me blood samples and stomach contents of each victim as wells a your full reports, I will be in my lab" John turned to leave on the consulting detectives command.
"Oh, but..." Molly tired to call after them as they swept out of her morgue,
"But that labs not empty anymore" Molly pulled the files and ran out after them, hoping to catch them before anything dramatic happened. The new lab tech could be a bit possessive.

John tried to match pace with the detective but Sherlock was in the throughs of what was proving to be at least an 8 when he suddenly stopped John all but crashed into him.
" What is that sound?" John finally noticed a dull thumping noise in the normally silent halls. As they started to move closer to Sherlock's former home away from home the music became more distinct. Thought Sherlock had more then proven his innocence the Yard had been rather clear. He was to stay away from cases until they felt ready to completely bring him back into the fold. Though it seemed to cause him physical pain Sherlock had grudgingly agreed. Part of his probation included limited access to the highly stocked labs he had once lived in. John grimaced while Sherlock brought his hands up to cover his ears, it was rap, very loud rap pumping out of the lab causing the very walls to vibrate. As they pushed inside Sherlock looked ready to snap. A women stood her eyes fully focused on the fluids in the pipet in her hand as it hovered over several different tubes of chemical. She was dropping measured amount of liquid into each test before her. Sherlock found the box producing the sounds and all but smashed to power button to silence it. The cut from sound to silence was so sudden John felt his ears pop. The techs head spun to them.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" She screeched eyes flashing between the two men.
"I know exactly who I am the question is who are you" Sherlock stalked forward like a cat on the prowl. He took in her stance over the desk, hunched but not uncomfortably so so she was accustom to the position, experienced then. The tests she was running required little skill but plenty of schooling so a graduate but recently appearance,which was to say a bit unorthodox was striking in that instead of subtle clues he felt as though it was screaming at him. She had volumes of unnatural black hair that was bunched up into two messy, misshapen buns at the crest of her head giving her the appearance of having animal like ears, her lids were heavily made up with shades of black, teal, and thickly applied gold glitter eye liner beneath them she had green eyes, her lips thick and tinted dark red, her nose was pierced along with several metal studs in each ear. From one lobe dangled a black feather while the other a simply golden stud. A black lace necklace wrapped around her throat just above her cleavage which was easily visible under her tight black shirt was a teal colored gem. Her legs where tightly wrapped in black skinny jeans covered in rows of zippers a few on her thighs and knees were open a bit revealing lightly tanned skin. Her shoes where thick boots with gold metal buckles strapped around them. She was neither under nor over weight but her body had a thin quality to it. Her facial structure was this as well, cheeks slightly hollow beneath high cheek bones. Her eyes seemed large a round when paired with her pointed chin and small nose.
"Who the hell are you bean pole, this my lab and you're starting to piss me off."
"You are running a battery of tests that require at least an higher education in forensics though your technique leans more towards the career of chemist, perhaps a change in heart when you realized all you would get is a cubical with a child's chemistry set, no spot light in chemistry so you like the spot light, solving crimes, being the hero like the stories you enjoy reading so much. You hair and general disregard for self image says you are good, perhaps a bit over confident but deemed valuable enough that no one has corrected you. You work for Lestrade but he didn't warn you about me so he assumed we wouldn't meet at least not yet which means he doesn't know your going behind his back and working on the case with. Out him. So you think yourself better then your own boss, but you only started working for him less then two years ago, just after you graduated with honors. A bit late for a women in her thirties so most likely you escaped from a relationship, most likely found him sleeping with another though you always expected it from him by the fact you wore the ring for less then a month. You are American judging by your accent, a bit far for. Home so running from a failed relationship you fell into this field, most likely watching too many crime show on the telly." Sherlock smirked with self satisfaction, the reaction was always the best part.
"Ok, but why the hell did you touch my music" Sherlock looked shocked. Nothing, no reaction, no exclamation of surprise, not impressed awe or the usual "piss off". Her thin obviously self sculpted black brow rose to challenge him in question.
"So Lestrade did tell you of me"
"Nope, but when people do a swan dive off the building then come back to life people tend to notice. Plus" she added as she came around to her stereo system.
"I read his blog" she added, her lips pulling into a smile showing off dazzling white teeth against her dark lip stick. Her teeth even seemed sharper and more dangerous. For a moment Sherlock found himself comparing her to The Women but he brushed the thought aside as she pushed out her hand to John.
"Jack Macotii, it an honor to meet you " she gave him a warmer smile then she had given Sherlock. John found her skin warn and soft even with the cold metal rings that littered a few of her fingers.
"John is fine" he already liked her not many could cut off Sherlock the way she had so far.
"Then I insist you call me Jack" she turned back on the music, John flinched at the noise taking a step back to escape the pounding base but Sherlock quickly stopped it again, this time pulling the plug roughly from the wall. .
"That is not your real name" her gaze didn't lift from John.
"No, it is not" she confirmed. Sherlock opened his mouth to speak again but to his utter disgust she slapped her hand over his mouth. The metal encircling her fingers bit into his flesh a bit but as much as the physical contact was making him squirm he found her eyes the most penetrating part of the exchange. The green seemed cold and hard. She wouldn't be swayed as easily as others.
"Let's cut the chase here shall we mister Holmes. I want to get my work done, you want to use my lab fine but under my rules. You don't touch my work, you don't talk to me while I am focused, and you do not touch my music." His eyes seemed to express enough dissatisfaction that he didn't need his mouth.
"There are noise canceling head phones on the wall if you want but if I'm here so is my music so either put up of shut up" she pulled her hand away and the two stared unblinking for a few moments silently battling.
"I believe you were going to find Lestrade John."
"Um, yes, sorry. Jack it was lovely" She gave him one last bright smile before plugging in the stereo system and dropping back into her work. Sherlock watched her for a moment trying to deduce anything else. She had not corrected him on anything but he had an unsettling feeling in his gut he had gotten something wrong.
"You should wear gloves when working with acids"He lectured but she made no move in response wether ignoring him intentionally or not he was unsure. He pulled the head phones onto his head and pulled out the equipment he would be needing. Molly pushed her way in and smiled at the two though only Sherlock made any acknowledgment of her in taking what samples she brought him. She was becoming fast friends with Jack since Lestrade had hired the dark haired misfit only a few months after Sherlock's supposed death. Sherlock gave the annoyance one last heated glare. The sounds were being blocked effectively by the device across his head but the boom he felt in his chest at each base hit would be hard to ignore. He drew himself closer to begin. Resigning himself to have a word with Molly latter for only bringing him half of the samples he had ordered.

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Ok so you met Jack, Sherlock is less then thrilled and John has no clue what to think of the little punk. I tried doctoring this chapter a bit to add a tad but more character.

Well tell what ya think. What ya want, and what ya hate and I will do my best to appease you oh great and wonderful readers.