You guys are seriously amazing. Thanks so much to those of you who reviewed that shitty last chapter! I know it wasn't the best, but it encouraged me to get another out, so thanks!
A Massive hug and cookie to LatinClover, Gwilwillith, FunkyBubble14, Bored411, and DrWholock for their completely amazing reviews!
So we are back to where I am rewriting and not original writing a majority of the story! Yay! Which means for hopefully faster chapters out!
Please forgive any mistakes in this chapter… I had a few glasses of wine while writing this and with my epically low alcohol tolerance, I do not trust myself.
Don't drink and write kids… hahaha
Anyhow, enjoy!
John sighed as he shut the flat door, walking back in from chasing down a crying and insulted Ms. York. He wished he could say that that was the first time he had felt bad and chased down an upset and insulted client, but she hadn't been the first… not by a long shot.
Sure, the case was completely false, the woman was a bit crazy, but that didn't stop him from feeling bad that Sherlock had offended her to the point of bursting into tears and storming out of the flat.
Why in the hell couldn't Sherlock just hold his tongue?
John ascended the stairs, hearing laughter, which only pissed him off more.
"Seriously?" he asked in a disapproving tone as he walked in the room, "You just had to ask a woman who is old enough to be your mother if she had been in any pornos?! PORNOS!" John ranted at Sherlock before turning to a laughing Kylie, "And why in the hell are you laughing?"
"Because…" Kylie responded, still laughing, "Did you see her face?"
"I've seen her somewhere," Sherlock muttered from his spot on the couch.
"So you've said," John said angrily, crossing his arms, "But that still doesn't answer why on earth you asked a proper woman of she had been in an pornos!"
"I could have seen her when I confiscated your laptop," he replied casually with a lazy wave of his hand, "It's a logical question."
"Yeah, that's what disturbs me," John commented, "You have obviously been stealing my laptop a lot and you have a girlfriend…"
"God, I hate that term," Sherlock muttered, cutting him off as he slouched lower on the couch.
"He really does hate that term," Kylie commented as nursed her coffee, opening up her laptop to check her email.
John gaped at her. Out of the two of them, he would have at least believed Kylie to have sided with him on how inappropriate Sherlock's behavior had been, but here she was… siding with the arrogant bastard he called his best friend.
"You are perfectly alright that he has been stealing my laptop to watch porn?" John gaped angrily.
"I don't watch it, I confiscate it," Sherlock corrected, "Otherwise you'd be up in your bedroom wanking yourself to death."
John turned a shade of red as he glared up at the ceiling, fuming in anger.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of, John," Kylie commented casually as she sipped her coffee, "everyone has needs."
"I'm not," John defended, "But this conversation isn't about me, its about him!"
Kylie looked over and smiled at the reddened and increasingly frustrated doctor.
"Which, you were watching it if that's where you think you saw her!" John continued pointing out.
"It was research," Sherlock commented with boredom.
"Research for what?"
Sherlock just shrugged, "Just research."
Kylie began laughing at her boyfriend once more, which made John frown.
"Aren't you supposed to be upset that he watches porn, just like every other woman?" he snapped.
"Please," Kylie commented as she chuckled, "I'm not naïve John. Nearly everyone has watched porn at one time in their life."
John froze, stiffening as he looked at her, taking her words into consideration.
"… You watch porn?" John asked.
Sherlock's eyes shot open as something primal surged through him, his eyes immediately flicking to Kylie as she smiled at John.
"That, is a rather rude question to ask a lady," Kylie smiled, giving John a wink as she got up and refilled her coffee.
John just gaped at her, not believing what he had just heard. Sure, he knew his friend was a sexually mature woman, but still…
…Bloody hell…
"I thought you had to leave right after our client meeting?" Sherlock asked her as he stretched his legs out even more, barely staying on the couch.
"I was going to," Kylie commented as she walked back into the room, her cup full again, "But I have more time since our client meeting was so short. And you may want to shut your mouth now, John."
"Right," John said as he shut his mouth and walked over to his chair, opening the paper to hide behind.
Sherlock opened his mouth to comment on Kylie's presence still in the flat, when a phone rang.
RING RING RING
Sherlock cracked an eye open, briefly wondering if it was his own, until he saw Kylie answering her own mobile.
"Hey Lestrade," she answered, taking a sip of coffee as she listened to the response, "Yeah I was about to head down…. Oh, well then I'll bring the boys."
Sherlock perked up in response to her words, like a dog that had just been told it gets to go for a walk.
Case?
"Text me the address will you?" she asked before she hung up the line, getting up and taking one last sip of coffee, "Grab your coats boys, we have a body and a serial case."
*&# )(* #)
Lestrade ran a hand through his hair as he surveyed the horror of a crime scene that lay before him. This was the fourth body that fit this same profile the Yard had found in the last two and a half years. And of course, the fresh ones have to come up right when he catches the case… leaving the bad police work of the prior two bodies along with the pressure from above on his hands. It was only a matter of time with this second body turning up that the media would catch wind of it.
"Bloody media hounds are here," Anderson commented as he glanced over the DI's shoulder.
"Shit," Lestrade cursed as he saw a reporter and cameraman leap out of the truck, running towards the crime scene eagerly.
"Johnson!" Lestrade yelled at a younger beat cop, "Please go explain to the media the fact that they must remain behind the tape."
The younger man nodded and approached the journalists, shooing them back away from the scene.
Lestrade sighed and ran a hand through his hair, turning back to look at the rancid bathtub in the incomplete building. The body was submerged in a merky brown liquid that most definitely was not dirty water.
"Who would dump a body in an abandoned half-built building?" Anderson asked the DI.
"Well loads of people dumped their shit here," Lestrade told him as he pointed to the area around them.
It was true. They were already in the slums of London, where the reputation of blindness to criminal activity stood firmly in place, which made eyewitness reports and clues even less likely to be found by pure police work alone.
"Its definitely the broken heart killer though," Anderson said as he bent down towards the body, "Decomposed, found in an isolated and deserted area, heart ripped out with the markings on the chest…"
"Wait, this guy has a name now?"
"Yeah, just something one of the blokes called him," Anderson shrugged, "Every serial killer gets a nickname."
Lestrade rolled his eyes at him in slight annoyance.
And he was trying to keep the news under wraps… a catchy nickname for a killer was just was he needed.
"Second body in a week…" Lestrade trailed off.
"Well we probably wouldn't have found him… or her… if you hadn't ordered the beat cops to search all abandon areas. More are likely to turn up soon," Anderson said as he glanced down at the body.
"All I have to say, is thank God we have Kylie back," Lestrade muttered, "That Dublin guy was worthless. Made me understand how good at her job Kylie really is."
"Not the git?" Anderson asked.
"Sherlock… I'll probably be thankful he's back when I get stuck, but for this part of the case, I'd rather just have Kylie and John."
Anderson opened his mouth to return with some snide comment about the consulting detective, when a voice interrupted him.
"You guys finally got me a real skeleton to play with? On a scene?" Kylie asked as she waltzed onto the scene, Sherlock and John right behind her, "Is it my birthday?" she asked sarcastically.
"Early Christmas," Sherlock muttered excitedly as he circled the bathtub like a hawk, taking the gloves from Kylie as his eyes scoured the scene before him.
"Save the dirty talk for the bedroom, you two," John told them as he rolled his eyes.
Kylie looked up at him and laughed, as Sherlock proceeded on, obviously not hearing him.
"Sorry for enjoying what I do, Watson," Kylie commented as she bent down, examining what she could see in the tub.
"Everyone here has worked with the two of you enough that a crime scene is your guy's form a foreplay," Lestrade commented as he observed the couple.
Kylie gave Lestrade a look as Anderson rolled his eyes and sighed loudly.
"Anderson turn your back, you are putting me off," Sherlock commented, not looing up from the body.
"What? My face is?" Anderson asked in offense.
"Play nice," Kylie told her boyfriend firmly, before glancing over at Anderson, with whom she amazingly got along with, "He's sorry."
She looked back down at the body, continuing on with her work.
"You aren't going to actually make him apologize?" Anderson asked.
"I don't own him, and do you actually believe that he would?" Kylie asked him.
Sherlock looked up at Anderson and gave him a large, smart-assed smile, causing Anderson to growl with anger and mutter something to Lestrade about 'going to check the van' before he stomped off.
"You really cant play nice, can you?" Kylie asked Sherlock as she bent a little closer to the victim's shoulder.
"I'm with Sherlock on this one for once," John added in, "He's a prick."
"Excuse me, but does anyone here care about the case?" Lestrade asked, warily glancing over the now multiple news vans that were accumulating behind the police tape.
"What do we know?" Kylie asked as she glanced up at her superior.
"Body was found a few hours ago," Lestrade told her, "I sent out an order for all the abandoned places in each division to be searched. The other three bodies were discovered in places with little to no foot traffic. And of course, in this neighborhood, nobody saw anything…"
Lestrade trailed off as he watched Kylie lift the victims arm, allowing the remaining flesh to sluff off into the tub with a splash.
Lestrade fought a gag as John winced beside him.
"Okay, I have seen a lot of gross stuff in my time, but seriously?" John asked, "And ugh, its making the smell worse…"
"Just, please tell me that that liquid in there is at least just really dirty water?" Lestrade asked as he turned away, unable to look at the freshly defleshed, putrid arm.
"Nope," Sherlock responded for her.
Lestrade looked at John, "Of course it couldn't be."
"Sorry," Kylie said as she bent closer to the body, "Its most likely a combination of liquefied lipids and proteins due to decomposition."
"There could be other substances mixed in as well," John pointed out, not willing to get too close to the tub to examine it any closer, "You know, to accelerate putrefaction."
Kylie opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Sherlock cut her off.
"By the rate of decomposition in an area such as London, state of decomp, and estimated body mass. There is most likely little to no extra fluid at all. If I am correct, this is the estimated amount of liquid that one would see in a man of this size," he commented.
The room fell silent, causing Sherlock to look up at a dumbfounded Lestrade and John, while Kylie smiled at him.
"Mmmh, talk decomp to me, Mr. Holmes," Kylie said with a flirty smile.
Sherlock frowned, "What?"
"Can we move on, please?" John asked desperately, "Before I hurl."
Kylie laughed, turning back to the victim, "From what I can tell, Sherlock is right. The victim's been here for 25-40 days…"
"How in the hell do you know that?" Lestrade asked, not being able to contain himself, "the bloke is a skeleton!"
Kylie smiled at him, "Noticed the slightly cheesy smell?"
"Ugh," John commented, looking down and shutting his eyes, "Please don't compare this to food… please."
"Butyric fermentation," Kylie continued as she turned back to the body, "Earlier stages from what I can tell as the beetles and majority of flies aren't here yet."
"Yeah…" Lestrade commented, "Because we all know what that means."
"I do," Sherlock commented, causing Kylie to turn and smile at him in amusement once more.
"Of course you do," Lestrade sighed, losing his patience quickly as more and more news vans approached, "Can you get us an ID, Ky?"
"Victim's male," Kylie told him, looking back down at the body, "Mid thirties, to early forties. In relatively good shape. Large muscle structure. Bone mass and density suggest he was an active man. Injury to his right shoulder is a few years old… Fractured his acromion process no more than three year ago."
She trailed off for a moment, looking at the injury before turning back to Lestrade, "Its an injury I've seen mainly in firefighters and police officers when they make the mistake of using their shoulders to ram down a door."
"So most likely a firefighter or a cop?" Lestrade asked as he frantically jotted things down on his note pad.
"Yeah, I'd say so," Kylie muttered as her attention was back on the body, "This wound is odd though," she said pointing out the cuts on the ribcage, "The other body had them too. Are they consistent with the other two?"
"Yeah," Anderson said as he walked back towards the group, "They all had the exact same heart shaped wound cut into their chest. The first two were much more defined, but those two also didn't have their hearts ripped out."
"Anderson, did you get dumber those two years I was away?" Sherlock complained loudly as he looked at the crime scene tech, "A child could have told you that the heart was cut out with scissors or a knife. Due to the elasticity and thickness of the arteries and veins, ripping it out would be not only improbable, but impossible."
Anderson opened his mouth to respond, but Sherlock cut him off once more.
"Also, it is literally impossible for someone to cut the exact same heart into someone's chest each time. There would be small inconsistencies each time that could give actual investigators clues as to the dominate hand, gender, or strength of the killer."
Anderson glared at Sherlock for a moment.
"You know, I actually felt bad when I thought you had jumped off a roof. Now I'm beginning to regret those feelings. Next time you kill yourself, I'm throwing a party."
Sherlock only graced Anderson with a side-glance, before examining the tub once more.
"it's the killer's signature," he stated dryly in conclusion.
John approached the body, bending over next to Kylie.
"The heart is most likely symbolic to the killer somehow," Kylie stated, looking up at the dark-haired detective.
"Cause of death maybe?" Sherlock suggested.
"It wasn't cause of death," John told them.
Kylie and Sherlock gave him a questioning look.
"Then it was the cuts, or the victim was drugged."
"No, the heart shape was made post-mortem from what I can tell with what's left of the flesh," John told them, "You see the small amount of bruising there? Around the neck? This man was strangled."
Kylie leaned in closer to the body, "Damn, you're right. The hyoid is broken. Good catch, John."
"So this nut-job strangles his victims, carves a heart in their chest before ripping their chest open and cutting their heart out of their body?" Lestrade asked.
"Pretty much," Kylie agreed as she stood up, removing her examination gloves, "I would bet that the killer most likely keeps the hearts as trophies."
"Witham is back from Belfast, finally so I'll have him take a look," Lestrade told them.
Kylie groaned.
For the last several months, Witham had been leant out to Belfast police as a counselor. Their offices had been hit hard by the RIRA and Witham was sent to offer counseling for the many families and policemen who had lost family and friends in the series of bombings.
"The kid is good from what I hear," Lestrade told them, "That's why we hired him."
"Psychology is still a soft science," Kylie muttered, "Can we at least see the other two bodies? Or were they released? I want to see if we can get an ID and maybe find a connection."
"From what I understand, the other two are at Bart's," Lestrade told her, "I'll send this one there if you want. Dr. Morstan probably wont want anything to do with this one."
Kylie smiled to herself. She still had to introduce Mary to John.
"The killer was a woman," Sherlock said suddenly.
"How do you know that?" John asked, "Most serial killers are men, aren't they?"
"Key word being most, apparently," Kylie said as she watched Sherlock pull a long dark hair off of the body.
"Could have been left by a wife or girlfriend prior to his death," Lestrade suggested.
"Not if it was found in the wound," Sherlock told him as he placed the hair in an evidence bag John hand handed him from nearby, thrusting it at Anderson before he stood and began to walk towards the street, removing his gloves.
"A woman serial killer," Kylie said to John as they both stood up and followed, "This case just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"
*&#(* ) ()# (
"I hate it when there is no trace evidence to find," Kylie complained as she walked into the door of 221 Baker Street, wiping her feet on the mat as she removed her scarf, "I hate it when killers are actually smart and leave behind little to no evidence."
"I have to agree," John stated as he hung up his jacket as well before starting up the stairs to the flat, "It is extremely annoying to get absolutely nothing more than what we had this morning after staring at two different bodies all day. This killer is careful."
"There has to be another commonality," Kylie muttered as she followed the boys up the stairs, dragging behind, lost in her thoughts.
"There obviously is," Sherlock commented as he passed John strolling into the flat, "There always is. I need to think."
"Oh," a strange female voice purred from the armchair, "I don't think you'll be doing much of that if I have my way with you darling."
Sherlock stopped in his tracks, staring at the woman as Kylie and John entered the flat beside him, staring at the intruder. Kylie looked her up and down, not liking the woman the instant she laid eyes on her.
She was a beautiful brunette. Her hair curled and pinned back perfectly as her makeup had been done with what looked to be artistic skill. Her lips were a blood red as they smirked at Sherlock, undressing him with her eyes as they smoldered. A tight dress hugged her body as four inch heels that were so dramatic they could be considered a weapon adorned, what Kylie assumed, were her perfect feet.
"You?" John asked in shock, taken aback by the woman's presence.
The woman's eyes flickered to John for only a partial second as they locked onto Sherlock's once more.
The room was filled with a heavy silence as the woman and consulting detective were lock in a tense gaze.
"Excuse me," Kylie finally asked, trying to hide the distain in her voice, "Who are you?"
The woman's eyes flicked to Kylie as if she had seen her for the very first time.
"Oh, don't mind me, sweetheart," the woman told her as she got up, looking at Sherlock once more as she waltzed towards him.
"Kylie, this is Irene Adler," Sherlock told her as his eyes never left Irene's.
"Oh," Kylie said shortly as she pushed her way towards Sherlock, standing close to him and extending her hand, "I'm Kyleigha Gibbs."
The woman glanced at her once more, giving her a small smile and ignoring her hand before her eyes locked back onto Sherlock's.
Kylie saw the desire in the other woman's eyes, causing jealousy to run rampant through her veins.
"I'm Sherlock's girlfriend," Kylie blurted out, not being able to take it anymore.
Irene broke eye-contact once more with Sherlock to glance Kylie up and down, a hint of distain in her eyes.
Kylie smiled at her as she set a hand on Sherlock's chest, rubbing up and down lovingly, as if to mark her territory.
"Of course you are," Irene told her shortly as she quickly dismissed her.
Kylie glared daggers at the woman as she undressed her boyfriend with her eyes once more.
"What are you doing here Irene?" Sherlock asked as he crossed the room to sit in his armchair, as to also escape the piercing stare of the Woman.
The beautiful woman's blood red lips turned up into a smile as she turned on her heel and seductively sauntered over to him, bending down and laying a hand on his as she leaned in closely.
Kylie's blood boiled. Not only was she way too close to her boyfriend, the woman even walked seductively… WALKED!
"Let's have dinner," she cooed at him.
Kylie's jaw dropped upon hearing the words.
Who in the hell did this bitch think she was?!
"Okay pin-up Barbie," Kylie said angrily as she stomped over- unseductively- to where Irene stood, plopping herself on the arm of Sherlock's chair possessively, "I believe it is time for you to go."
Irene stood up, giving Kylie a small smile, "I don't believe you can ask that of me, when it isn't even your flat."
Kylie narrowed her eyes at the woman.
"I'm sorry," she said with fake politeness, "Don't you have people to go service? I can only assume you are a whore of some kind by how tight that dress is. I mean, is sausage even wrapped that tightly?"
It was the Woman's turn to narrow her eyes at Kylie, giving her a bitter smile, "At least I actually put effort in the way I look. You think a man is going to want… that?"
"Yeah… yeah I do. Because unlike you, I have a little something I like to call self-respect."
"Oh sweetheart," Irene laughed, "You have no idea who you are dealing with."
"Really?" Kylie asked, standing up to tower over Irene with her much taller frame, "Because you don't look all that frightening."
"You obviously haven't seen me with a whip," Irene smiled.
Kylie just stared at the woman, causing Irene to laugh once more.
"You are darling, aren't you?" Irene said, smiling slightly as she looked her up and down, "Thinking that you are the only woman Sherlock Holmes can see." The woman leaned in closer to Kylie, invading the person space, "be careful darling, I know what he likes."
Kylie's face turned a different shade of red, causing John to jump in, clearing his throat loudly.
"Irene, tell us what you want, or get out," he told her.
Irene sighed and turned towards John, stepping back.
"I have a message," she told them.
"Form whom?" Sherlock asked.
"Moriarty of course," Irene said with a pleasant smile.
Kylie's blood went from boiling to ice cold in an instant.
"So he is alive?" John asked.
"Of course," Irene responded, "Sherlock was dead, and yet here he is… alive and handsome as ever."
Aaannd… there went Kylie's blood back to boiling….
"He sends his regards," Irene told them simply as she crossed the room, grabbing her jacket as she walked towards the door.
"That," she continued, "and he looks forward to the next problem."
With one last smile, Irene Adler put her hand on the door and turned back towards Sherlock.
"We'll have dinner soon, love," she told him in a husky voice, "I promised you I would make you beg for mercy twice, and I don't back down on my promises."
With one last smoldering look, The Woman opened the door, crossing the threshold gracefully, before shutting the door behind her.
Kylie glared at her retreating form as she could hear her heart beat in her ears. The room was silent for a moment as they all listened to the front door open and shut.
"So…" Kylie said, angrily breaking the silence as she crossed her arms, "You two know each other?"
"Yes," Sherlock told her simply as he folded his hands and assumed his 'thinking' stance.
Kylie nodded, with pursed lips in attempt to control her emotions at the moment, signaling to John that this was about to go sour.
"You two had 'dinner'?" Kylie asked shortly.
"Yes, once or twice," Sherlock muttered as his mind was not truly engaged in the conversation, but rather on the case at hand.
Kylie nodded, her emotions bursting through at the seams.
"Yet, you wont have 'dinner' with me?"
Sherlock opened his eyes and gave her a peculiar look.
"What are you talking…?"
"No," Kylie said adamantly, cutting him off short as she got up and crossed the room, "You know what, I don't want to hear it," she said as she threw her hands in the air, forgetting that John was even in the room as a witness. She paused before she whirled around, looking at the consulting detective, who was still staring at her in confusion.
"Is this because I am damaged goods?" she asked, "because if it is, you should have just said that the other night. And… and you know what? That shouldn't even matter to you. She's a FREAKING HOOKER! You don't think that she is damaged?"
….
"She's a dominatrix."
Kylie looked at him, astounded before she shook her head and stormed out the door with disgust, slamming it shut behind her.
Sherlock just stared at the door in confusion before looking at John.
"What is she going on about?" he asked his friend, "We just ate."
John sighed loudly, slinking down into his chair and rubbing his temple as he tried to block out the large migraine he felt coming on.
Irene Adler, the dominatrix with washy morals and thing for Sherlock combined with the firey insecure and defensive side of Kylie, both battling over a self-proclaimed sociopath with zero experience in relationships or feelings…
…yeah, this would end well…
John just said a short prayer that he could help Sherlock solve this before blood began to be spilled.
:D
Review my darlings? Please?