"What do you want?" The raven-haired woman spat.

"I want you to leave those poor families alone. Oh and I need your key," I reply. 

She glared at me for a moment before rolling her eyes and reaching into her pocket. For a moment I thought she might comply as she continued to reach into her coat. I was seriously wrong. 

I focus on the balcony behind her and let out a long sigh, whipping out my knives. Holding them in each hand I throw them directly at her shoulders. The woman let out a shrill scream of pain as she stumbles backwards, her gun slipping out of her hand as she tumbles over the edge of the balcony. 

"I was gonna let you live if you just did what I asked," I grumbled.

I peer over the balcony before hopping over gracefully onto the top of a car, then sliding off the hood. 

I shake my head, people can be so stupid these days. I move the woman's face to the side with my shoe. Then lay my eyes upon a gory bash on the side of her head from the fall. 

"tch tch, poor girl," I sigh. 

I look around for a nice new canvas before deciding that maybe the body would be a curious spot. I pull out my crimson lipstick before holding her distorted face firmly with my hand. 

After I had finished I bend down and reach inside her pocket, feeling my gloved hand wrap around a fine set of keys I withdraw my hand and slide them into my pocket. I wipe my bloodied heels on the cement in an attempt to remove any excess blood from the soul. Sliding my knives back into my sleeves, I hum a sweet tune before stepping over the pale body. 

----

"Well Mary and John, I am very happy for you both. You seem very happy," I smile. 

I watch them share a loving glance before responding with thanks. 

The rest of the chilly walk was spent with sweet small talk about Rosie and how troublesome Sherlock can be. They truly were a lovely couple, and Mary seemed...happy. I look down at my shoes as we walk, something tugging at the tattered strings of my heart. 

"And we can't build our dreams"

I let myself stop, not bothering to look away from the ground, just listening.

"On suspicious minds"

That song...

"You alright love?" Mary asks, concerned by my sudden actions. 

"Huh? oh yes, I'm fine don't worry!" I say giving a sweet smile. 

I turn my head back towards the dimly lit diner Sherlock and I had been in barely a few days ago. The sweet voice of Elvis could still be heard as we continued walking. 

"So if an old friend I know"

"Stops by to say hello..."

----

"Eugh, these just keep getting worse!" Lestrade says quite dramatically.

He stood over the well-blood-drawn body laying limp on the cement ground. Blood clung to her clothes around her chest and the majority of the red liquid was spread along the rest of the sidewalk, her head being the source. Her skull was bashed in from her fall and a pale white bone could be visible torn through the flesh of her shin. 

"A careless kil-"

"Sherlock...you might want to see this," John says. 

Sherlock follows John's lead to the body. His eyes scan the corpse before they land on the unmistakable message. The words were scrawled messily across the dead woman's face in a deep red shade of lipstick. 

Hello Mr. Holmes 

"Sherlock is this that Moriarty fellow again?" Lestrade asks. 

"No...he's dead Lestrade," John says. 

"I need to think," Sherlock states abruptly. 

On that statement Sherlock signals for John to head back to baker street with him. 

---

John was distracted, his mind replaying the song they had heard on the walk yesterday. He hummed softly as the cabbie rode on. Occasionally he let a lyric slip. John was so caught up in his head he didn't realize sherlock had frozen with wide eyes. 

"John what song is that," he whispers. 

"Um not sure what it's called but it's definitely Elvis," John frowns. 

"Stop the car," Sherlock says. 

"What Sherlock!-" John yells. 

The detective slams the cab door, leaving his friend puzzled in the back seat. The detective wasn't sure what had just happened. One moment his head was buzzing about the case and then his brain turned inside out when hearing the simple tune John annoyingly hummed. But it wasn't his brain that confused him, it was the pang he felt in his chest for no apparent reason. 

The curly-haired detective began to walk in the opposite direction he was supposed to be going. He walked, and walked, and walked. He didn't know where he was going, he just needed to be with himself for a moment. 

Once he reached a bench looking out over a park filled with trees he contemplated whether sitting down would actually help his confusing situation. Temptation took in and he sat down carefully, resting his coated back against the damp wood. 

---

"Won't let our love survive" 

"sherly! come dance with me!" the girl screamed with joy. 

The curly-haired boy stared at her with curiosity before stepping closer to where she spun next to the radio. 

"What is this?" Sherlock asked. 

"It's Elvis silly!" She giggles. 

"Or dry the tears from your eyes"

Something about the way she smiled and the way the music played caused a smile to play on his lips. 

"Let's don't let a good thing die"

"Sherlock..."

"When honey, you know I have never...lied to you"

----

"Sherlock!?"

The detective's gaze is blurry, still recovering from...whatever had just occurred. He shook his head and began blinking his eyes aggressively. A warm hand pressed against his cheek for a moment before brushing some of his dark curls out of his face. 

"Sherlock are you alright? You were spaced out when I found you," A familiar blonde says. 

Sherlock looked around for a moment before meeting the woman's eyes with his own. Her gaze was warm as if just looking at her was wrapping him in a comforting hug. She wore a long grey trench coat with a short black dress underneath. It was clearly a chilly day in London so she had a pair of thin black/grey tights. And tying everything together was a shiny pair of black heels. 

He still hadn't responded physically. He just sat there staring at her in silence. She didn't move either, she didn't feel the need. She noticed the distress on his face. She had her right hand grasping onto the armrest of the wooden bench as if to unwillingly cage him in that spot. The other hand, which moments before, had been brushing his hair out of his face, now lay limp at her side. 

He let out a shallow breath before he spoke. 

"i- yes I am quite all right thank you," He stuttered. 

Her eyes flickered over his expression before standing straight once more. He followed her lead, not bothering to wait for her to step back. There was an odd tension between the two as they shared yet another long stare. Neither of them could read the other, it was just an impossible puzzle with no pieces. 

"I don't understand..." He whispered. 

"you don't understand what?" She breathed. 

"You..."