YO! Hey there :) Soo yeah... If I forgot to post on the first chapter, I am Jinx! See, this is a joined account (if you haven't checked my/our profile, you wouldn't know, so I'm letting you know ^^) and it's me (Jinx) and Jade :) Soo if you have any questions about my stories, this one or others, make sure you state that you're talking to me, and same with Jade. If it's to both of us, then just say so or leave it blank, and we'll assume it's for both of us :)

Anyhows!

We're starting to get plot here! I didn't think there was going to be much, but I got a few ideas so it will be more developed than I originally thought... Again, don't compare it to the real thing ^^" But yeah, thank you for reading! I hope you liked the last one! This chapter is a bit longer, so I hope you enjoy it. OH! and for clarification; John IS currently dating Mary, I know in the last one he said he hadn't been on 'dates' in a while, but that still stands, he hasn't spent much time with Mary either, soo... yeah. Anyhows,,

Enjoy!

Sherlock groaned, and John clicked his tongue.

"If you say you're bored one more time, I'll shove that violin piece down your throat." Sherlock gave another, louder groan from his spot lying on the couch.

"But I'm bored," he drawled. John halted typing and sighed, rubbing his eyes before turning in his chair to appraise the childish genius.

"Then why don't you go see if Lestrade needs help with anything?" Sherlock scoffed, not removing his eyes from the ceiling, his long, spindly fingers fiddling with the strings of his violin.

"Just a couple of stolen jewels and break ins. Not worth my time." John held in another sigh. He and Sherlock had been in the flat for hours, John typing his blog and Sherlock complaining on how there was nothing to do. John was thankful that the genius hadn't asked for his cigarettes yet, but it was soon to come. For now, the detective was probably getting his kicks just bothering John.

The doctor decided to ignore the last statement and turned back to his blog. His eyes scanned the words, trying to find where he had been, when he heard rustling from the couch. Again John ignored it, until a hand rested on the back of his chair and a warm breath ghosted down his cheek.

"What are you doing?" John swallowed a bit, Sherlock's soft black curls brushing against his face.

"Writing, Sherlock. You wouldn't be interested."

"Hn." Sherlock made a noncommittal noise before pulling away, leaving room for John to breathe. The tall detective made his way back to the couch, flopping down gracefully with his phone in hand. Wait… John's eyes narrowed.

"Is that my phone?"

"Hn. Yes," Shelock answered, his thin fingers tapping on the keys. John ran a hand over his face.

"And why do you have my phone? Where's yours?"

"Dropped it in the lake." John took in a long breath before letting it out in a sigh. Sherlock's eyes flickered to him, but he remained silent. Just then there was a tiny knock at the door, and Mrs. Hudson appeared sheepishly.

"Sorry boys, he insisted to come up without ringing the door bell…" Lestrade slipped past her with a nod and she smiled back, ducking out of the doorway once again. Sherlock sat up and gave him an accusing glance.

"What are you doing here?" Lestrade placed his hands on his hips, his eyes turning upward in what John had recognized as his 'trying-to-put-up-with-Sherlock-because-I-need-him' stance.

"There's a case, it's got us stumped. I figured you might be interested in it." Sherlock made another noise in the back of his throat and stood swiftly, tossing John's phone back to him, who caught it deftly.

"Is there anything particularly interesting or is it normal stupidity that Anderson usually is accountable for?" Sherlock questioned as John immediately searched through his phone for anything disrupted. Lestrade shook his head and bit his lip.

"No, this one is really interesting. You'll get a kick out of it." Sherlock cocked an eyebrow as John frowned at his phone.

"And what makes you say that?" John let out an indignant shout just then, and Sherlock continued to look at Lestrade as the doctor's jaw dropped.

"You texted Mary on my phone!"

"Brilliant observation, John, I was wondering when you were going to come-to," Sherlock replied airily, not taking his attention off Lestrade, "Now what is so interesting? Quickly, before I lose interest, I have a multitude of things to do…"

"Er… it's the victim's heart," Lestrade answered, glancing at John before turning back to Sherlock.

"'Sorry Mary, but your breast size is too miniscule for my liking. I have decided to terminate our relationship in favor of more bodacious—'" John's face turned cherry red. Sherlock didn't respond, instead choosing to roll his eyes at Lestrade.

"If they had a heart attack, there's no mystery there—most likely lack of exercise and too many chips—" Lestrade shook his head, ignoring more drowned out protests from John.

"No, it's their actual heart—it's missing." Both men paused, John raising his head from his phone and Sherlock's eyebrow's quirking with interest. A small smile pulled at Sherlock's lips as he grabbed his scarf off the back of the couch and began to tie it around his neck.

"By all means, lead the way then, inspector." Lestrade nodded and disappeared behind the door and Sherlock made to follow him when John squeaked.

"You didn't even say it was from you!" Sherlock turned to him with feign confusion, but the small smirk on his face gave him away.

"Why of course not, John, don't be ridiculous. I've never seen her breasts." Sherlock slipped behind the door, leaving John fuming. Angrily he shoved his phone in his pocket and grabbed his jacket, cursing under his breath as he followed the reason for no doubt yet another fight with Mary out the door.

Anger was still rolling off in waves as John and Sherlock walked across the expanse of grass towards the river, where a perimeter had been set and forensics teams swarmed.

"I bet you're pretty pleased with yourself right now," John snarled, though Sherlock gave no impression of having heard him. The doctor huffed.

"You know, this isn't something you can say, 'oh, just kidding!' to. You insulted the woman's brea—" With a glance at their surroundings, John coughed and spat out in a harsh whisper, "her breasts, Sherlock! Do you know how pissed that makes them? And rightfully so in this case! Are you even listening to me?" Of course, he wasn't, and John pinched the bridge of his nose, halting as they reached the yellow police tape.

"Just, can you tell me why, Sherlock?" John asked, chuckling humorlessly, "Why you insist on making my relationship with Mary a ride of hell for her and me? I mean, what was the point of that?" Sherlock finally turned to him.

"I have no intention of sabotaging your relationship, it would serve no purpose. And I'm sure you can talk her out of getting to angry with that—sentiment," Sherlock waved his hand, as if waving the improbable feeling away from him, "And you should know the point of the text clearly, John." John frowned at him in his very clear 'well I don't, explain it to me' way and Sherlock glanced at him.

"I was bored." John's jaw tightened as Sherlock ducked under the police tape. The doctor nodded, muttering under his breath as he ducked, also. Donovan sidled up beside him, to which he almost groaned out loud, but refrained.

"So, your freak's got another case," she started, and John's eyes narrowed, "What does that mean for you then?" John glanced at her.

"What'd' you mean?" She smirked a bit.

"Well, Lestrade told me about the little text mishap this mornin'," she started, and John shook his head—word got around fast when it was about him or Sherlock, "And now with this new case, you won't be able to see much of your girly 'round." John still frowned at her suspiciously.

"And? What does that have to do with anything?" Donovan gave a shrug in an unconvincing way to look nonchalant.

"Just seems like a convenient way for him to keep ya to himself," she stated, "It'd suit him if it turned out he was a poof. I'd keep an eye on 'im, if ya know what I mean." John opened his mouth to protest, but she was already gone, and instead Sherlock's voice replaced his.

"John, I asked you to analyze the body." John realized he was standing next to Sherlock, who was staring down at a bloody body, and caught off guard by the sudden gore, John almost gagged. He had done only a few open-heart surgeries in his day, and usually he wasn't the main medical man in charge, but this operation looked like someone had taken a chainsaw to the chest, ripping open the sternum and splitting the ribs. Regaining himself quickly, John squeezed his hands into a pair of rubber gloves and knelt down beside the body, examining it carefully.

"Looks like a chain saw, from the serrated edges here," he gathered out loud, motioning to the cracked and hammered sternum, "Ripped straight through the bone and tissue… Seems to have been here for maybe a week or so. Judging from that, the state of his face, and the amount of blood, I'd have to say he was still alive when the chainsaw got him." Lestrade swore as John stood, fiddling with his gloves but refraining from peeling them completely off. Sherlock gazed at him out of the corner of his eye, smirking a bit at the frown on his face.

"You feel as if you've missed something, don't you?" John looked at him in surprise, and Sherlock pushed forward before he could open his mouth to ask, "It's because you have. See here? The bone is completely cut through almost haphazardly, but when you look, none of the inside tissue that had surrounded the heart is chopped up. If you look closer, you can see that the area around the heart is nice and neat, meaning our killer has some surgical practice. They used the chainsaw perhaps because the want for blood or in the rush of time, but they took care in taking out the heart, my guess would be that it's still in complete contact, hidden somewhere they can find so they can stare at it, like a trophy. Of course, this could be the case if it were not for the fingers."

"The fingers?" Lestrade question, his face twisting slightly in confusion and disgust. Sherlock knelt down and carefully raised the right hand of the victim, slightly pudgy.

"The entire body is covered in dirt and mud from flailing as they were attacked," he stated, turning the hand over so that the palm was upwards, "except for these few fingers. They've dried by now, but the only reason these fingers would be clean after the victim was scrounging in the mud attempting to get away would be that someone else cleaned them."

"The killer?" John asked, frowning, "But why would he—"

"Spit," Sherlock intervened, lowering the hand and standing as he snapped the gloves off, "The DNA will have faded by now, but—"

"Wait, spit?" Lestrade interrupted, looking even more disgusted than before, "You mean, the killer licked…?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow and turned to walk away.

"It seems, inspector," he said, turning back to smirk at him a bit, "That we've got a cannibal on our hands."

A smile widened. Perfect. As always, he could always count on Sherlock to find the clues and solve the puzzle. The last puzzle for him, however, will be how to mend a heart broken to pieces and burnt to a crisp. A low chuckle filled the air. By now, almost everything was put in place. A day or so more, and the operation would truly begin.

John sat in his usual chair, sipping tea while Sherlock searched something on his phone—he'd promised not to send any more texts, and John believed him; it would be too 'boring' to repeat something.

"Hey, Sherlock…"

"Hn?"

"If the killer's a cannibal, how come he didn't eat the rest of the body? I mean, why just the heart?" Sherlock didn't look at him as he answered, continuing to scan his phone—honestly John was amazed sometimes at the man's ability to multitask.

"That is the question, isn't it? He may have a specific taste he prefers that only comes with the heart, as he's obviously an experienced killer and cannibal, or perhaps he ran out of time taking the heart and couldn't come to the rest of the body."

"But if someone was coming, wouldn't the body have been reported sooner?" Sherlock's lips turned up.

"Yes, unless it was someone he knew that was rushing him." John frowned.

"You think there might be someone else working with him? Another cannibal?"

"No. Not another cannibal, but someone covering for ours. Aren't you curious as to why they would turn up now? If they'd been operating here previously, then why would they suddenly leave a body out in the open for the police to find? They had to know in that location that it would be found eventually, and they could have moved the body if they had enough strength to shove a chain saw through someone's sternum. The only reason, then, is…"

"They wanted someone to find it," John summed up, and Sherlock smirked.

"It seems someone wants to get our attention. Finally, something fun to do!" Sherlock suddenly leaped up and tossed John his phone, heading towards his bedroom.

"Er, you done?" John asked, surprised.

"No, but I think she'd rather not have me answer at the moment. Do give it back when you're done." John's mouth opened, but just then his phone rang. The caller ID read; Mary. John groaned loudly and glared at Sherlock, who had returned with his violin in hand.

"You're gonna pay for this," he hissed as the doctor stood and moved towards the doorway. He answered the phone just before closing the door.

"Er, hey Mary…" As the door closed, Sherlock could hear the beginning of,

"JOHN HAYMISH WATSON—" The tall detective plucked at his violin strings as he slowly moved towards the window, a satisfied smirk curling onto his lips. It looked like things were finally starting to liven up around here, just as he wanted.

Another voice chuckled, as if reading his thoughts. If only he knew…

So... Hope you liked it! If you have any questions or ideas for characters, plot, etc., feel free to leave a review and let me know ;) Which brings me to this: I will be answering reviews after each chapter. If you don't want your screen name on here for whatever reason, just message me or let me know! Alrighty then? Mmk!

Mzzmarie- Thanks for the review! Yes, I love Sherlock and I'm surprised that I really like writing it... it makes you think :) I have a lot planned for Sherlock's poor heart ;)

Ya know, I can survive without reviews, but I do love them, too ;) Soo subscribe and whatnot, I hope you liked it :) See you soon!

~Jinx~