(A/N here you go, my lovelies! Thank you all so much for reading, voting and commenting! It seriously means a lot to me :) Sorry if parts are screwed up, there was a technical difficulty :/ Anyways, please continue to vote/comment/share! I love you all! :D

-CH)

Sherlock and John were a couple. No one really knew about them other than Mycroft, Lestrade, and a disappointed Molly Hooper.

Sherlock had never been so happy in his life. John was everything Sherlock had wanted for a very long time, and he felt fulfilled. It was the same for John.

The two began sleeping in Sherlock's bed together, and in the mornings if Sherlock woke up first he would bring John in some tea, and vice versa if John woke up first.

This particular morning, John woke up first. When he came back with tea, he placed the cups down on the small bedside drawers beside Sherlock's side of the bed, and placed a gentle kiss on Sherlock's lips. Sherlocks eyelids fluttered open, revealing Sherlock's piercing blue/green eyes. Sherlock moved one of his hands onto the back of John's head, pressing John closer to him. John smiled against Sherlock's lips. Sherlock slid his tongue along John's bottom lip, asking for entrance. John happily let Sherlock in, and their tongues danced together. Eventually, Sherlock let John move away so they could both gain their breath back. ''Good morning, John.''

''Morning, Sherlock.'' Sherlock and John drank their tea in peace, until someone came barging through the door.

''It's Lestrade,'' Sherlock said dismissively. John quickly got up and shoved on a woollen jumper, since beforehand he was topless, and shoved on some jeans, because there was no way John wanted Lestrade to see him in only his boxer shorts. Sherlock didn't bother, how ever. He just got up, in nothing but a sheet, and walked out into the dining area. John following, quietly chuckling to himself as he did so. Typical Sherlock. HIS typical Sherlock.

''Could you not put on any pants?'' Lestrade asked Sherlock as soon as he saw him. ''

You have a case?'' ''Serial killing. Seven people, all stabbed in the back, no connections as far as we can tell,'' Lestrade informed him.

''Can you come down?''

''Yes, where to?''

Lestrade gave them the address before he went back down to the crime scene.

  They left the flat and locked up, quickly hailing a cab. They jumped in and went to the crime scene. When they arrived, Sherlock jumped out of the cab, and John paid. John expected Sherlock to have left, but when the cab left he saw that Sherlock had waited for him. John smiled, even more so as Sherlock laced his fingers through John's.

    Donovan was the first to see the two. Mycroft had made sure in advance that everyone knew Sherlock was alive and that he was NOT a fake.

''Anderson, you owe me fifty quid!'' She shouted out to Anderson as she saw their fingers linked together.

''For God's sake, Donovan. Shut up. That's inappropriate behaviour in the work place. Shut up or you can kiss your job goodbye!" Lestrade shouted at her as he led Sherlock and John into the house. ''This is the newest,'' Lestrade explained as they stood in a bathroom over a young woman with blonde hair. She lay on her front and had a wound her back, but the knife was gone. ''The others are now at Barts.''

Sherlock bent down and examined the woman. Twenties. About to go to a party, judging by her incredibly short dress. Sherlock moved the woman's hair over her shoulder and noted a small tattoo of a mockingbird behind her left ear. Sherlock looked back at the womans hair. He studied it closely. ''The killer has cut her hair,'' Sherlock said.

''What do you mean?'' Lestrade asked as he watched Sherlock study the woman. ''Look at her hair! This part here is significantly shorter than the rest. The killer has taken some of her hair.''

''Maybe she just went to a bad hairdresser or something,'' Lestrade tried. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

''Open your eyes, people! Do you really think this woman would've gone to a bad hairdresser? No, this dye in her hair cost at least one hundred pounds to apply it. She had a good hairdresser because she had a good job. ''If this woman saw her hair was uneven, she would've gotten it evened out, or possibly even try to even it out herself. The killer cut her hair!''

''Alright. Well, do you want to go into Barts and look at the others?"

''Yes. Come on, John.'' Sherlock and John caught another taxi, and went to Barts.

While John paid, Sherlock waited by his side. They then got out and went into Barts, once again, holding hands.

The bodies were out on the metal tables, and the first thing John noticed was the hair colours of all the people. Black, red, pink, orange, purple, brown. Obviously. Sherlock went over and examined the black haired woman. Once again, there was a significant difference in length. A large chunk of her hair had been cut out. He moved the womans hair out of the way, and saw a little tattoo of a mockingbird behind her left ear. It was the same with all the others, too.

''Secret group?'' John suggested.

Sherlock looked up and smiled at John. ''My thoughts exactly.''