I wasn't going to write this, because I had nothing planned, but here goes nothing. Warning: its gonna get a little bloody. By a little I mean a lot. Usual disclaimers

Sherlock's P.O.V

It was extremely early in the morning, the sun had only just started to rise when Dimmock had called to tell us that there had been another murder and robbery. I allowed myself a small smirk, knowing the outraged look Irene would have had, having a murder take priority over a robbery. Although it appeared to be necessary. I heard from Dimmock that this serial killer was quiet… gruesome. Waking through the house from the back sliding door, I could tell that these people, more likely the husband were a collector of anything old and expensive. Walking towards the front door along the hall, I noticed tiny glittery black stars all-over the floor. They had been trampled across and sifted. I had no doubt that Irene was the person who spread these stars everywhere, but I couldn't bring myself to believe she was a murder. I therefore decided to be cautious about what I was going to tell the police, ecspialy after how emotionally invested in this case they seemed. Besides, it was dangerous to jump to conclusions

Standing at the bottom of the Smetheys oak staircase, my path was blocked by a rather drawn DI Lestrade. Sick, hadn't slept in, two… three days. Must a bad case. Why hadn't he called me sooner?

"Not good up there inspector?" I ask kindly, trying to stand around Lestrade, but he barred my way.

"Oh why the bloody hell would you care?" he snapped back at me, rubbing his eyes. I ignored his stab at me, it wasn't worth annoying the inspector and Christmas murders were always a touchy subject with him. He had a case when he first started out with a family annihilator, leaving the two children without parents on what was supposed to be the happiest day of the year. Personally, I never understood the point of Christmas.

Lestrade stood firmly a step above both John and myself, stopping all access to the upstairs bedrooms. He pretended I wasn't there for a second and spoke to John.

"To be completely honest with you John, you don't have to see this if you don't want to. It's… pretty bad." Lestrade swallowed hard on the last sentence.

Stealing myself a quick glance at John I tried to shift around Lestrade again, this time he bumped into me and I had to take a step back. I could see the look of disgust on his face, and dismissed the idea of explaining to him why I wanted to see the crime scene. He thought I got a kick out of seeing murder victims. I just wanted to reassure myself that the Irene I knew… thought I knew wouldn't do something like that.

John looks at me and sees through my anticipation. He may not want to see this at all, but he wants to know what I'm thinking. Good old reliable Dr. Watson.

"Iv seen this kind of thing before Lestrade, and if I go in with Sherlock, you won't have to again… if you don't want to." I turned away, pretending to survey the rest of the room below to hide a smile. John always thinks quick, works well under pressure.

Lestrade glanced between us suspiciously, but let us past and I bounded up there stairs. Lestrade didn't follow.

"The parents room is the one on the left, and the … and the kids is the second on the right. "

I hesitated, children's bodies were a disconcerting sight. So I headed straight for the parents room.

With John right behind me, I pushed open their door, to find the room completely disserted. I gave myself a brief second to steady my stomach before I start looking. Stepping into the room I stop by the edge of their bedframe and try to look closely at what I assumed was Mr & Mrs Smetheys body's.

Looking behind me, I took a step back and lent against the wall.

"Breathe John" I sigh, a little frustrated. I suppose I might have to be delicate about asking John to look at the bodies.

I heard John inhale sharply. He had whiten considerably once he saw the sight inside the bedroom and had turned a steady shade of red from lack of oxygen.

"What am I doing here Sherlock?" john disappeared, trying to look anywhere but the mess in front of us.

"Usually I would like you to examine the bodies, a second opinion is useful to me." I tightened my scarf around my neck. I was very cold all of a sudden. Looking around at the rest of the room, it took me a few moments to noticed john staring at me.

"Look John, if we want to catch this killer, we're going to have to move quickly." I looked for an easy lie, and found one. I don't want to tell john yet that I still had a nagging feeling that this could possibly be Irene. If I told him he won't notice the thing that could be important.

John stopped moving, turned back to me and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"If all you care about is catch this bloody … animal, then I'm going to go home." He took a step towards the door when I said quietly,

"John… please"

I knew it would work. John looked a little startled as his eyes flicked towards me and then back at the body. He stiffly walked towards them, kneeling down next to the woman.

"I can't be a hundred precent certain but I think it would be the gunshot wounds that killed them both. Straight between the eyes, execution style. The husbands had his shoulder and elbow joints shattered, and torn open with a knife, serrated edge. Blunt object.

"Yes, I'm guessing the baseball bat at the bottom of the stairs"

Looking down at the woman he had to look way.

"Sherlock, I don't think there's a single bone in this woman's hands and wrist's that that haven't been broken. This all looks like it was done before their…. –it took John a moment to search for the right word- … execution.

He got up without looking me and left the room, but waited outside the room.

I follow, heading towards the child's room. I hadn't seen a child murdered in a long time and although I'd never admit it, I can feel dread seeping into my bones.

This room doesn't even look touched. The child was in the same position as his parents, slumped against the wall, bullet in-between his eyes. I don't ask John to come in with me this time, just silently circle the room then almost leave before I saw the bathroom door ajar. Walking over, i push the door open with my foot, not wanting to contaminant any evidence. I feel my body start to freeze up and i shake it off as i read the inscription in red lipstick on the boy's mirror.

"You're Welcome x "

I heard the bedroom door crack open and John curse

"Oh my god... Sherlock,?" he hissed into the air, not knowing where I am.

"They found another house... it's exactly like this."

He waits a moment for a reply, which he does not get. he slowly let the door creak shut again

A steady, heatwave of pure anger boiled to the surface of my mind, just simmering under my skin. I will do anything in my power to bring Irene down for this.