"We had to remove the body as quickly as possible, for obvious reasons," Lestrade said.

"Hmm.." Sherlock looked around quickly, and not giving Lizzie or Lestrade any time to process it, he swooped around, and returned. "Nothing. The body was merely dumped here, and he was killed somewhere else."

Lizzie thought back to the hand, still in her fridge. Sherlock wouldn't let her bring it with them, claiming, 'Lestrade didn't need to know' and that it would 'come in handy'. Lizzie facepalmed, receiving strange looks. Needless to say, she ignored them, too busy resisting the urge to bash the consulting detective over the head.

"Edward Fallten, age 41, cause of death-"

"Thank you, Molly, that's quite enough," Sherlock interrupted the nervous woman. Lizzie eyed her sympathetically. She was small and slightly mousy, but looked like she was a very nice person. Their eyes met and Lizzie waved. Molly waved back with a slightly suspicious smile. Lizzie pointed towards Sherlock, then waved her finger around her ear. Molly stifled a giggle as she turned away.

"Sherlock, really. Be nice," Lestrade reprimanded. He looked over to Lizzie, seeming to just notice her. "And… No offense… but who are you? And where's John?"

Sherlock huffed. "Lestrade, Elizabeth. Elizabeth, Lestrade. She's my assistent while John's out of town, let her be," Sherlock snapped.

"Nice to meet you, Elizabeth," Lestrade said, shaking her hand.

"Likewise, um… Detective? I'm actually not sure what to call you," she said. "I just moved here from America a month or so ago."

"You can just call me Greg," Lestrade chuckled. "Where did you live in America?"

"Washington state."

"Oh, wow, you came a long way," Greg said, surprised.

"Can we get on with this?" Sherlock said. He had been observing the pair during the entirety of the conversation, hands in his pockets, and his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "By the way, how's your wife doing, Lestrade?"

Lestrade glared at the consulting detective and Lizzie rubbed her forehead. "Greg, you can call me Lizzie. Only Sherlock calls me Elizabeth and he's lucky I haven't hurt him for it… Sherlock, why am I here anyw- ugh!" Lizzie stopped mid-sentence, getting very pale as she registered the corpse that Sherlock had just whipped the cover from. He was bent down, observing the neck.

"Have you found a connection between the victims?" Sherlock said, ignoring the very ill looking Lizze making gagging motions behind him.

"No, nothing. It seems to be random acts of violence," Lestrade answered.

"Did you get the pictures?"

"Yes, they're right here." Lestrade held out a folder.

"Elizabeth."

LIzzie edged around the autopsy table, glaring at Sherlock's face the entire way before she reached Lestrade, slowly taking the folder.

"There's nothing much here. The same weapon was used as with the last victims, and the killer seems to be covering his tracks well," Sherlock muttered. "Do you see anything?" He glanced at Lizzie out of the corner of his eye.

"Haha nope, not a thing," Lizzie said sarcastically, looking pointedly away from the body. "Besides the fact that he's obviously missing a head… and a hand." She gagged once more.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Did he have anything on him? Wallet?"

"No. Not a thing. I thought it was rather odd…?" Molly piped up from a corner.

Sherlock seemed to finish examining the stump of the neck. "One good hit was all it took to take the head off…" he muttered. Picking up one of the arms, he examined it, moving on to the other. "Not married, office job… Paperwork. Lots and lots of paperwork… Boring… Oh look, he had a dog, how exciting," Sherlock sneered. "There are the rope burns… he was awake for quite awhile, I see. Molly, can you fetch Mr. Falitens clothes?"

"Please," Lizzie interrupted. Sherlock ignored her and she stuck her tongue out at his back. While he was waiting, Sherlock had started looking through the photos Lestrade had brought. "Hmmm, right on all accounts… He has a brother too… We'll have to… to…" Sherlock stared down at the photo, eyebrows drawing in slowly.

"What is it?" Lestrade asked. Lizzie had crept up behind Sherlock and was staring around his shoulder.

"I don't see anything," she said. Sherlock snapped out of his daze.

"Hmmm? Oh, it's nothing… Nothing…" Sherlock drifted off once more, slowly setting the folder aside. Molly walked in at that moment, bearing the bag containing the deceased's clothing. Sherlock snatched it and grabbed the shirt, all but pressing the collar to his face. "Chloroform… as usual. Boring." Everyone was quiet for a minute or two, as Sherlock looked over the body a few more times.

"Come, Elizabeth," he snapped, striding out of the morgue without another word.

"I'm not a dog!" Lizzie shouted. "I think I'll stay here out of spite," she muttered in the general direction of Lestrade, who seemed slightly shocked at Sherlock's abrupt, non-boasting of the almighty deducing skills, departure.

"With the dead bodies?" Sherlock quipped, his head poked around the door frame. Lizzie balked before muttering an expletive under her breath and a 'Save me, please.' to Molly and Lestrade, who both gave her an apologetic look.

Lizzie attempted to sneak down the stairs to her flat when they returned, but was immediately dragged by the back of her coat up the stairs and into Sherlock's nest (she had decided to dub it a nest, since it wasn't really in a fit state to be called a 'home').

"Sherlock!" she squawked. "I want to eat food and watch TV!"

"You can do that here," Sherlock muttered from the couch, where he was sprawled out.

"No I can't! It's gross here, and I don't even really know you… why did you even drag me to a morgue…" She was silent for a few seconds. "I'm so confused!"

Sherlock snorted.

"That's it, I'm out of here." Lizzie exited the premises and all but ran down the stairs into her apar- ahem- flat. She made a beeline for the kitchen and began assembling the mother of all sandwiches. Roast-beef, salami, swiss cheese, white bread, mayonnaise or whatever the British call it, tomatoes and pickles. She lovingly picked up the plate and waltzed into the living room. "You and I will know each-other well, and though it will be short, it will be a wonderful, meaningful relationshi-"

She froze.

"I thought you were upstairs."

"I was."

"You aren't anymore."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I felt like it."

"Who said you could."

"Me."

"You have no say here."

"I'm smarter than you."

"So?!"

"So I can do what I want…"

"Sherlock…"

"Hmm…"

"Have you ever had a sandwich to the face?"

Silence.

"Aren't you even curious how I knew he handled lots of paperwork?"

"A little, but I'd rather ha-" Lizzie was cut off.

"Paper-cuts."

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "You have thirty-seconds to remove yourself from the premises, or suffer the consequences."

Sherlock remained still as Lizzie counted down in her head. His hands pressed together under his chin, and his eyes staring up at the ceiling, he didn't look like he was even vaguely considering removing his person from the couch.

Lizzie sighed pathetically and looked down at her sandwich. "I'm sorry we didn't get to know each other better…" she whispered, as she picked up the poor food, took a bite, and walked over to Sherlock. He glanced at her, once she had appeared in his line of vision, and didn't even have time to blink. He shot up from the couch, furiously attempting to get the mayonnaise and various bits of food off of his face. He turned and gave the sniggering Lizzie a contemptuous glare, before marching indignantly out and up to his own abode.

Lizze decided that the sacrifice of the beloved sandwich was definitely worth it. Hopefully Sherlock took the hint.

A/N: It has been AGES since i updated! I finally worked out what I am going to do with the middle of the story, so hopefully I will update a bit more frequently (haha). So two things! Number One!: HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL IN AMERICA WITH ME! YAY! AND TO EVERYONE ELSE, HAPPY NORMAL DAY! unless you have a holiday.. in which case… never…mind… meh.

Number two! If you guys see any plot inconsistencies at all, let me know! I found one a while back and fixed it (it was chloroform related). It would be greatly appreciated!

Now onto the thank you's before I pass out from exhaustion!

bored411- LOL *wink wink* Who knows? YOU SHALL HAVE TO WAIT AND SEE!

WundytheCapybara- Of course it is Wundy… But methinks Sherlock doesn't even know that it is yet XD hehehe I can see him 'But I don't like her? She ignores me?'

ShadowSpade- heehee… she does! Just a little ;)

suzaan- no problem! Hope you see this chapter too LOL! Glad to make you happy :D

.54- THANK YOUUUU! 3

Wolf- I shall! Thanks!

FiliandKiliGirl- LOL! Yes she does indeed… and that poor pillow D: But wait till she gets a hand on Cromwell (I'm guessing that's the skull), they'll have a blast! XD Poor Sherlock won't know what hit him…

Courtney-Tamara- Thank you! ^_^ I'm glad you are enjoying this!

KiyaNamiel- YOU. HAVE. MORE. NOW.

TwilinOfTheWIllows- Here is an update! LOL Fish sticks *drool* ANYWAYS. Nah that's not creepy.. I mean I have so many adoring fans *LIe* ha ha what I'm serious o_o. btw I love your name ^_^

Ok guys! Sleep now! Thanksgiving in three minutes O_o

Seeeeee yaaaaaa!

Overlord Rousdower out_