A Study of Lovers (Johnlock fanfic)

Back To Work

As they arrived at Scotland Yard, they handed money to the driver and stepped out of the cab. As they approached Lestrade's office, they were intersected by Donovan, with her arms crossed and looking quite annoyed at the two.

"Where the hell have you two been?" She asked in a commanding voice.

"Away with no cases. Thanks to me." Sherlock snapped back.

Her posture seemed to stiffen at the sight of an angered detective and a rather mad army doctor by his side as well. John wasn't really fond of her considering she always called him a freak. Though Sherlock always brushed it off like it was nothing, John didn't really find that to be too amusing nor very nice, (like anything she said was worth sharing to the group).

"Lestrade is waiting in his office for you freak." John's blood pressure started to rise. As Sherlock gave a curt nod and proceeded to the office.

"By the way, next time you stay with Anderson, bring a toothbrush and perhaps some deodorant. You're letting yourself go on personal hygiene." Sherlock smirked and stepped inside the office. John looked back to the astonished Donovan and didn't know whether to say sorry, (like she needed it) or contain his giggles behind a cracking straight face.

"Lestrade." He looked up from an open file from his desk to greet the men.

"Oh, Sherlock. Great to see you again after all these weeks. We might just have a new case for you."

"Yes I know all the boring details of such, tell me what we are up against for this one." Sherlock answered back with an egotistical smile across his face.

"Four homicides and one of seems to be a suicide, all around the same area, and somehow all the connected." Lestrade ran his fingers through his hair then put his fist down on the table. As John walked over to the desk and peered over the open case, he ran his index finger along a line of typed text, reading it to himself.

"Says here that the killer was the one that committed suicide, would you happen to have any pictures of the crime scene?" John looked to Lestrade, his shoulders tensed and head down at the desk.

"Yeah, they're printing right now in Anderson's office." Sherlock hummed in disappointment. John looked up from the desk for a brief second to shoot Sherlock a nasty look of 'not right now' but only for Sherlock to smile and wink and John to copy his actions.

"I'll just go grab those then." Lestrade left his office and leaving the two men alone. Sherlock strutted over to the desk and looked over John's shoulder, breathing out warm breath that trickled down John's neck. At a moments notice, Sherlock began leaving small kisses in the crook of John's neck as he grabbed him from behind and wrapped his long arms around the waist of his army doctor.

"Sherlock, not now, somebody will see us. We've only been dating for a couple hours."

"Who cares." Sherlock snuck in between kisses. John couldn't help but smile and think of everything that led up to this moment, the reoccurring thoughts and feelings have now just washed away as he stood there being in the embrace of the detective; his detective. He nuzzled himself into Sherlock's chest and smelled the scent that could only come from Sherlock and nobody else. He didn't want this moment to end.

"I've got the pictures..." Sherlock separated himself from John and went back to looking over his shoulder, as if nothing ever happened as Lestrade entered back into his office before seeing anything. He laid them out on the desk in periodic order from the times they were taken and the places they were taken as well.

"These were taken in the building where the four bodies were found and these from the ouside where they found the supposed murderer." Lestrade pointed to each section that applied to each scene that he described.

"How long have they been dead?" Sherlock asked, again already knowing the answer.

"They were found around 4:00 this morning when the guards were making their rounds, so I would have to say maybe a little more than 24 hours." Lestrade said.

Sherlock hummed in disappointment again.

"Wrong. From this one, I could see this body has been dead for a good 36 to 48 hours while the rest of these are fresh, maybe a little earlier than when they were found this morning. I trust that Molly has already been working on them?" Sherlock smiled that same egotistical smile that made John smile as well.

"Yeah, she's down at the mortuary." Lestrade answered back.

Sherlock gave a curt nod then collected the pictures on Lestrade's desk without permission and headed out the door with John trailing right beside him.

"Brilliant. As always." John said, admiring the detective's work.

"Nothing different from before John." He smirked.

They turned the corner to the mortuary and found all 5 bodies laid out on the slabs of metal with Molly inspecting each and every one of them.

"Morning boys." She said in her usual mousy voice.

"Which one was found ouside?" Sherlock asked without even saying hello back to Molly.

"Okay, umm, this one right over here." She led them down to the end of the line of bodies where one had a gun shot wound through the back of the mouth and bruises riddling the body.

"Clear signs of a struggle. One of the victim's fought back, punching, kicking, hitting, but this isn't just one person." John studied the skin as he paused to make more observations. "Too many bruises for one person to make and too dark for just one strike against the skin."

"Very good John." Sherlock said.

"What did I miss?" John asked, looking at Sherlock.

"Not much. Except for the fact that the murderer was a smoker, probably a pack a day. But his fingers are stained with tobacco putting in the consideration that he rolls his own, perhaps going through approximately 15 to 20 cigarettes a day. His hands have clear signs of scars and burns, which would make him somewhere in cooking or perhaps a chef judging by the oil burns on his palms and knuckles. Not just a small restaurant, something maybe more fancy but not a large chain, something much smaller maybe just one or two restaurants around the city. The scars on his hands are a bit of a different story, something from a knife? No, somethings that occured everyday in a continuous loop. The deeper the scar, the more depressed he was. Depression often leads to suicide, but he was smart, cutting himself on his hands so it seems like he did them at work. Especially along the major blood vessels and arteries in his hand, but became cowardly and recovered before he could bleed out. Now the gunshot to the mouth, he couldn't bare to live with himself so instead of being creative, like most people are, he decided to shoot himself through the mouth being a original. Anything I missed? John?"

Sherlock finally finished as Molly and John both with mouths wide open waiting to say something but nothing came out.

"Right then, John let's go home. Molly, review the work on the crime scene and get the new information you come up with back to me or Lestrade." Sherlock smiled that same, what is now annoying, egotistical smile as he headed out the door to the street. John turned back to Molly and to see her almost as astonished as Donovan was when Sherlock snapped her that nasty comment.

"I am so sorry, Molly. Ever since he's been away from here, he's become more of an arsehole than ever."

"No, that's fine John. I'm kind of used to it by now; been used to it for a long time. Has he changed anything out of the ordinary that might have caused this?" She asked. John smiled.

"You have no idea." And with that, he turned out the door to catch up with Sherlock.