**Well hello friends, just a quick reminder to say that I own nothing and never will!**

Psychopathic Dentists and Stalkers

After a full 15 minutes after entering the lab, Louise had put a sample of the blood and saliva cocktail into her processor, awaiting a possible hit on the database, if even to at least find out who the poor soul was that had their teeth unwillingly extracted.

Sherlock however was sitting on his now regular stool, holding the note in his hand and mumbling possible personality profiles under his breath. The only two that Louise had managed to strain to hear were 'psychopathic dentist' and 'perverted guitarist'.

Time had apparently decided to move at an unforgivably slow pace on this particularly grim and macabre of days and Louise found herself with nothing better to do than to examine the note herself from over Sherlock's shoulder.

"Stop that. It's annoying." Sherlock stated after about ten seconds of her hovering behind him.

"I have to wait for the analysis to process and I don't have anything else to do. You haven't come up with anything aside from 'psychopathic dentist' in fifteen minutes and this is not a re-enactment of Little Shop of Horrors, so give it to me!" Lou persisted, plucking the note from his fingers.

"I'd say I never took you for the impatient type, but that would be a lie." He muttered under his breath.

Louise had heard him, but rather than acknowledging the insult and getting into an argument, she 'accidentally' on purpose slapped him upside the head as she turned away from him, looking to the angrily scrawled lyrics on the page.

"And passive aggressive…" He continued, turning on his stool, scanning the young woman who could have been burning a hole through the page with the intensity of her gaze. Deciding to ignore him yet again, she spoke up.

"It's just a weird coincidence…" Louise said more to herself than Sherlock, before turning back to face him, still staring at the lined sheet. "I mean, I was just listening to this the other day; in fact, I listen to it most days after work, it's always the first song on the album I pick…" She trailed off, before getting startled by the sound of metal scraping on the floor as Sherlock all but leapt from it.

"That's it!" He exclaimed, grabbing the scientist before him by the shoulders and turning them a 180⁰. "He's a stalker! He knows the ins and outs of your daily schedule, where you work, where you live, where you like to eat! Even down to the insignificant and mundane things such as your depressing taste in music!" Sherlock rabbited on, his verbal train of thought running at full velocity, not noticing Lestrade entering the lab. "But why chose now to make his move? What triggered his psychological break to move up from lowly stalker to full blown killer, must have been a change in your day to day life, he's obviously trying to impress you with extended knowledge of your favourite band; in the only way he knows how to! Violence Miss Bell, violence! So possible military, someone who has a history of violent crimes maybe, or even someone in the security line of work, highly likely something along the lines of a bouncer!" He was grinning widely as he let go of Louise, taking the bag of teeth and attempting to profile the stalker even further with this new information.

Louise merely stood glued to the spot, flabbergasted and unable to process the information that had just been relayed to her at Sherlock's mile a minute deductive speech.

"Hey Lou, you alright? I got your message and had some samples that needed bringing down so I thought I'd bring them in myself… You're looking a bit peaky." Greg spoke up, not fully aware of the situation and only having walked in on the second half of Sherlock's lightning speed one-sided conversation.

Louise turned on the spot slowly to face Lestrade, walking towards him, leaving Sherlock to his own devices. "Peaky? Peaky?! You'd look bloody peaky too if you had a box of teeth mailed to your workplace, along with a threatening letter!" She snapped at him in agitation, carrying on. "So to answer your question, no I'm not 'alright', as you so stupidly put it!" She let out the breath that she didn't know she'd been holding and shook her head, her black hair draping itself in front of her face slightly.

"It's all a bit fucked up Greg." She laughed nervously, as Lestrade placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her into a sideways hug.

"S'alright Lou, probably just a weirdo with too much time on their hands is all! Once you've done your tests and Sherlock does his brainbox thing, it might just turn out to be someone's idea of a sick practical joke." He tried to comfort her, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before releasing her.

"Wrong." Sherlock piped up from his corner of the room, looking at one of the tooth fragments held within a pair of tweezers. "These teeth were hammered out of someone's mouth, a woman's I'd say, the teeth have been whitened at least three times, not a smoker, so more likely a frequent coffee drinker." He continued, ignoring the pair in front of him. "Quite brutal work."

"Did you just say hammered?" Louise asked quietly, turning a paler shade of white. "Ergh that's disgusting, I think I'm going to puke…" She grimaced, pulling a disgusted face.

"I don't see why you should feel that way, in this line of work you ought to be quite used to it." He chipped in, not removing his gaze from the fragment.

"I'm a lab technician Sherlock, not a poxy crime scene investigator; I don't do the gore or the grizzly details! I stay in my lab where it's safe, sterile and theoretically free from murderers and psychopaths!" She explained, returning to her chair in front of the computer; which happened to have been flashing up with 'NO MATCH IN DATABASE'. To which she responded by slamming her head repeatedly on the keyboard.

"If you're in the middle of a mental breakdown, please proceed to do so quietly Louise, I'm trying to concentrate." Sherlock muttered, now examining the tooth shard under his retractable magnifying glass.

Lou lifted her head slowly from the keyboard, a couple of the lettered tiles sticking to her forehead in the process, unbeknownst to her. "Since when do you call me Louise?" Was the only response she could muster up, with the current state of her mind.

"Since you called me Sherlock. Funny how the likelihood of impending death brings out the informality in people, wouldn't you agree? And before you start shouting profanities at me, know that the lettering on your forehead is probably an accurate representation of your 'feelings' right now." He explained, looking away from the tooth for a split second to flash her a shit-eating grin before returning to the evidence once again.

"What are you…?" She half asked before looking down at the metallic surface below her to find the letters 'F' and 'U' were planted firmly where her fringe would usually reside. "Son of a-″ she was cut off before she could finish by Lestrade's text tone going off.

Greg looked to his phone, opened the message and read it quickly before running a hand through his hair. "Female homicide in Chelsea. All her teeth missing, just been called in." Lestrade recapped sombrely, looking to Louise who appeared to be fighting the urge to vomit.

"Excellent!" Sherlock exclaimed, leaping from the stool. "Come along Louise, we've got a crime scene to examine!" He demanded in morbid glee.

Louise merely groaned in response before reaching under the table and expelling the contents of her stomach into it. 'Oh yes' she thought, 'this is going to be a very long night'.

Well if you've reached this chapter, thank you very much for sticking with the slow start, things should hopefully pick up pace from here! Please to leave me a review, help me to help you and let me know if you think there's things I should be improving on! Many thanks,

DeathFrizbee