The flatmates arrived at St.Bartholomew's hospital, they stood in the morgue with Molly Hooper.

Sherlock was overlooking the papers on the clipboard. "Turns out I was right, Watson. The victim was poisoned, and it was the cause of death. But why isn't the substance listed?" The tall man asked, looking at Molly.

"There wasn't enough to be able to identify it, but we are guessing Cyanide."

Sherlock goes back to flipping through the papers, without looking up. "Why do your friend's hands shake?" he asks John, completely out of the blue. (For John at least)

"What?"

"His whole body has tremors but you can see that his hands especially shake." He says turning to the blond.

"I can honestly say I hadn't noticed." John said knitting his brow together.

"No matter," he said setting down the clipboard. "I diagnosed it as some post war trauma. Since he obviously fought on the front lines, even though the British involvement was strictly in the medical corps."

"Sherlock, how do you figure that!?"

"The underlaying scars were ones that definitely came from firing guns, that and the way he went to shake my hand suggests that as well."

"Why do you always have to do that!?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The way you pick apart and analyze people like that."

"You called it brilliant once." Sherlock noted almost complacently.

John shook his head, and rolled his eyes.

Suddenly Sherlock's face lit up. "You have a sense of trust towards him! Something you cultivated during your time in Afghanistan..."

John turns away, trying to ignore him, or in the very least discourage him from continuing.

"Your left shoulder, when the camp was under attack he pushed you so you didn't get more serious injuries." Sherlock looked at John, who was squinting at him.

"He didn't push me, he shielded me with his own body, and received his own bullet wounds."

By John's reaction Sherlock knew it was more then one or two shots that Arthur took.

Tension filled the room.

"But he seems like such a scrawny guy." Sherlock said reliving the stress, somehow.

Then he set down the clipboard. "That will be all for now Miss Molly." He said before leaving the room.

John sighed and followed after him.

☻ ☻ ☻

The two men discuss the new case all the way back to their flat.

"This case involving Emily Bennett is a bit different then something were used to dealing with." John said a little spaced out, entering the apartment.

"How so?"

"Well, she was found in an alleyway. Not even bothering to hide it, almost if they didn't care if the police found her body or not."

"So, you're saying that the person that were looking for is not only skilled but is to the point that they don't believe that they will be caught?"

"Yes... And now what is this about being skilled?"

"Oh, while looking at the incisions in the victim, I noticed that it was in a precise way that it wasn't his first time doing this, though they might have gotten a little excited,"

"What do you mean, excited?"

Sherlock glared at John not able to comprehend how he wasn't able to understand, what he was saying.

"When the killer was gutting his victim, he had obviously gotten fired up and got a bit carried away. The cuts were professional but made quick, and a bit exaggerated."

"So could we identify the perpetrator as a doctor, since the cuts were... professional?"

"Highly doubtful. No methods of the sorts are used, besides the weapon used was a kitchen knife."

"Then it has to be someone who she had given a bad review, perhaps a chef-"

"I had assumed that, and have the police compiling the list and it should be emailed to me soon."

John rolled his eyes. He would never be able to fathom how Sherlock could connect dots of a case so quickly.

☻ ☻ ☻

~(Across London)~

Arthur Kirkland had just made his way home. It was great that he had gotten to see his friend John again, but then again he had only just arrived home, and he was going to have his hands full here soon.

His older brother Allistor, was going to visiting in a few days and the last thing Arthur needed was his brother giving him a hard time.