Wonder boy (A Sherlock love story)

Introductions

Warning! Major edits have been made to this part of the story! These don't effect the plot, however, so enjoy!
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Jacqueline Flourence was your average, recently graduated college student. From The University of California, she had just finished her course in psychology, best in her class, and earned her full P.H.D. and Master's. She was now free to find employment anywhere they would hire her, which was pretty much everywhere. She decided that she would settle for a job teaching Psychology at Stanford. Not that this establishment wasn't prestigious and well spoken in every sense of the phrase, but it was quiet enough, local, and hands on. She had every inch of her life rolled out on a proverbial sheet of papyrus, and she knew exactly what she wanted to do with it.

She currently lived with her older sister Brenda, who shared many of her same interests- in fact- almost all of them. She was also the more artistic of the two, which lead her to work as the head animator at the company Frisu, making video games, cartoons, and advertisements through meticulous graphic work and distributing them.

As they sat at the dinner table, they tended to discuss work, which mainly consisted of Bren recounting the woes and errors of a cartoon project, or Jacqueline repurposing tales of wayward students, but as this was one day they shared off, there was a slightly different topic.

"This is perfect." Brenda sat facing her sister. She smiled and sipped a bit of her drink. "Do me a favor."

"Yes?" Jacqueline inquired from the edge of her seat. Anything Brenda needed, she had no qualms about getting. 

"Don't fuck it up." She laughed. Jacqueline leaned back in her chair and considered Brenda's joke. She really did hope nothing happened that disrupted this perfect life they'd constructed for themselves.

"I'll try not to. No promises."

"You better not."

~~~Sherlock's POV~~~

Sherlock was elated. He was absolutely confident that he had the killer- rather, killers- stopped in their tracks. It was less than 30 minutes away from the 48 hour mark, and he almost had them. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about the case since he first laid eyes on the two victims. They made no sense to Donovan, Anderson, or even Lestrade. Absolute bull malarky. But Donovan and Lestrade were both as average as Anderson was completely clueless and dull. Everyone on the case had thought that the murders were connected, and at that, by the same person, all because they were both found locally. Actually- one right next to the other. But that wasn't right. It didn't make sense at all, and Sherlock knew it. The first victim, a female.
-Late thirties (Duh)
-Business woman (Suitcase and worn pumps)
- Married (Ring finger on the left hand deformed in a ring line, although the ring is no longer there) = Cheating? No. Robbery? No.
-Heavy, expensive jewelry = No robbery.
- Beaten (Deep set scars all over) = Abused. Not just before death, but in marriage.
- Signs of struggle (Arms flailed, mouth and eyes wide)
- No phone. = Kicked away? Forgotten? No. Taken.
- Glasses in front coat pocket = Possibly knew the attacker (Only reason to comfortably take off glasses.)
- Scenery: Alley = Random? No. She knew her killer. Or maybe it was a coincidence. Interesting.
- Body left at scene = Carelessness or shock.
Next victim, another female.
-Early twenties (Fashion sense)
-Mother (Dark circles under the eyes, filed nails, pacifier in pocket)
-Stow away (Obviously dyed hair and filth. Heels of shoes worn from running)
- Phone in left hand = Either killed while calling a family member or killed for trying to call the police.
- Phone in left hand = Left handed
- Gun wound to the back = Kill was a surprise. Calling a family member, it is.
- Scenery: Same, only in the dumpster = Killer did not want to draw attention to the kill.
Two separate kills. Two separate manners of murder, two different intentions, two different reactions. They were looking at two totally different circumstances of murder.

"Sherlock? Sherlock." John tried for Sherlock's attention, aware that he was in his infamous process of deep thought. He was blocking the door to the toilet, which John, after two mugs of coffee, desperately needed. "Sherlock. Get out of my way. I need the toilet." He tried again. Sherlock seemed to snap out of his state of deduction and moved aside. He hadn't realized, but he'd been fixed in front of the door of the toilet after using it himself. This was not unexpected, but always came as a shy surprise to him- when he thought so hard that he might fall over if someone pushed him. John shuffled in and closed the door. Sherlock remained where he was, starting back up in thought. John opened the door once more and stuck his head out. "Yeah, that's not going to work." He admitted. Sherlock stared at his flatmate with confusion until he finally understood John's intention.

"Right." Sherlock said, barely above a whisper. His voice groggy from not speaking, he cleared his throat and moved to sit in the chair in front of his desk. John glared at him disapprovingly, as Sherlock seemed far too casual with his detachment from reality. It was honestly the strangest thing he'd ever seen. Closing the door to do his business, he left Sherlock, once again to his thoughts, which in no time at all, would lead him to some sort of grand conclusion about the case at hand.