A/N: Hey guys.

Shout out to the kind thefaultoflegend. I absolutely love their fan fics, especially 'How to Apologise to Molly' which I highly recommend you read!

On an unrelated note, this is set prior to The Fall, hence why John and Mary aren't together. I do intend to tie this story into that of the show, never fear.

Also, another 4 reviews would be fabby dabby! xx

Gracias.

Sherlock, John and Lestrade stood in the large room two days after Sherlock last saw Molly, just before she left for the date. The trio stared down at the woman who all looked towards the wall, their eyes not in focus. Their limbs were sprawled around them, the blood almost gluing the body to the ground. Anderson and the other forensic idiots were crawling around, trying to find a scrap of DNA they could use.

"What are we going to do?" John asked. Sherlock stared at the woman, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Accept the case."

They heads of both Greg and John snapped up to look at Sherlock.

"You haven't accepted the case?" Greg asked, John's eyebrows furrowing.

"Not officially. We took a look, didn't mean we accepted. But twelve murders of woman who all look the same." He stuffed his hands in his pocket before crouching on the ground to look at all the women.

"I'm sorry. I thought he was onto it," John reassured Greg.

"Understandable. This isn't the first time that twit has done this."

The two men raised their eyebrows at each other and looked over at Sherlock. "Anderson, flip the body," he called.

Anderson rushed over and moved the body of the nearest woman. "Anything?" he asked Sherlock.

"Anderson, the more you stay around, pressing for answers, the more likely I am to think you're the killer." The forensics man blushed and rushed away from the men and back to searching the room with the others.

"Oh, I meant to ask you, Sherlock. How do you know the killer is a man?"

"Because a woman isn't dumb enough to get caught. Have you not seen the arrest ratio of men to women? I highly recommend you do. Puts a dent in some mens self-esteems."

"That means nothing. The killer- or killers- have not left a shred of DNA. The only thing we have is six dead women. It's like the Study in Pink all over again, except we have no clues. So what proof do you have?" John crossed his arms. "For all we know, Poppy could have arranged the murders."

Sherlock was silent for a few moments before responding. "Killers?"

"Yes, maybe more than one. That's not the point, Sherlock."

"Yeah, why are they male?" Lestrade piped in.

Sherlock jumped up and looked at John. "Killers. Plural. More than one." He stared into the distance and nodded. "Yes."

He ran out of the room and Greg sighed. John looked over at him and rolled his eyes. "Bloody git. I best be off."

Lestrade nodded and said goodbye. As he did, Sherlock's fingers typed on his phone outside the building in the night. John exited through the front door and over to the detective.

"John, I need you to ask Molly if her date did anything odd during his date or cut it short." The detective held the phone out to his friend and looked up at the sky. John gave his friend a glare and crossed his arms.

"Why don't you?"

"I haven't apologised yet. I'm working on it, though. I've been busy," he told John.

With a sigh, John took the phone. "You apologise soon." He pressed the call button and held the phone to his ear.

"Sherlock, what do you want?" the meek voice said on the other end.

"It's John, Molly. How are you?"

"Oh! John, sorry. What's wrong?"

"We need to know if anything odd happened during your date or if it was cut short," he told her, hoping she wouldn't ask why he needed to know.

"Not at all. Felix took a quick phone, we continued the date, we left after we finished eating, he stopped at my house for a coffee and then went home," she replied.

John nodded and smiled. "Alright. Thanks, Molly." He hung up and handed the phone to Sherlock. "No problems on the date. He took a phone call, though."

Sherlock nodded and looked back at the exit of the building. "Tell Lestrade that we need the man's phone record. I suspect him."

"On what grounds?" John asked.

"Has it become a habit of yours to question all my latest deductions?" asked Sherlock before crossing his arms. "And if you must know, it's mostly because Molly doesn't have a very good track record with men. Cough, Moriarty." Sherlock said before walking away.

"Sherlock, that doesn't explain-"

"I had the misfortune of meeting him. His name is Rex… something, I'm not sure." Sherlock rolled his eyes before beginning to walk away.

"No, I want proper explanations. You said the killer was male. Why? Also, you suspect Felix. Why?" John asked, running to keep up with his friend.

"Male because the marks left on the women's right wrists were too large to be female, especially with the size of their writs. However, they all differed slightly in appearance. As for Fred… I don't know where to start." Sherlock continued to walk, John still asking questions. "For Christ's sake, John! You don't pay attention! The marks were slight, very slight. They were all at different stages, marking different times that they had been killed. And Fernando…"

"So you've ruled out Moriarty?" John asked.

"He doesn't really like to get his hands dirty. He's got people for that. Now, go talk to Lestrade."

John rolled his eyes and turned around. When he arrived back at the scene, he explained what Sherlock had said, causing Lestrade to frown.

"On what grounds does Sherlock suspect Felix?"

After a short conversation with the Detective Inspector, neither deciding what Sherlock had gotten, John looked at the writs of all the women. He felt foolish for not seeing it and foolish for not checking prior. Sure enough, there were slight marks on the women.

"Well, I'll be damned," John muttered.

Greg's ears pricked up and he walked over to the doctor. "What?"

"Sherlock was right. There are marks on their wrists." He wrapped his hand around the wrist to find that his hand would have taken the same general shape as the mark. "That's supposedly why the killers are male."

"Wait. There's more than one killer? Since when?" Lestrade asked, standing up, fear sketched onto his face.

"Yeah. The sizes all differ, apparently. None female, though."

Greg shook his head and sighed. "We really need to alert the press. Women of this appearance have to know that they aren't safe."

"Oh they know," forensic woman muttered from a few bodies over. John couldn't help but notice that this was the second time he had seen her and the second comment she had made about the security of women. He had to mention this to Sherlock.