The apartment was luxurious. The walls were a pristine cream and covered in reproductions of famous paintings, the couches and chairs had never been sat on, and the floors were covered in luxurious carpeting, very soft to walk on in bare feet. The cleanliness of the whole place made John Luther rather uncomfortable despite having lived in it for several months. He draped his heavy overcoat over the back of one of the bar-stool chairs that stood beside the kitchen counter. He noticed a newly opened bottle of Claret on the counter. Next to it was a corkscrew.

A pair of high heeled leather boots stood neatly beside the refrigerator. Luther glanced at them briefly, then looked back at them more carefully. He noticed the odd brownish stains on the toes and the tips of the heels. He shook his head and called, "Alice, what have you done?"

The cool, slightly amused voice came from the direction of the bathroom, "Do you really want to know, darling?"

Luther strode toward the bathroom. He pushed the door open and stepped inside slowly. The once white counter top was covered in a patch of rapidly darkening blood. The floor was covered in small patches of blood. On the floor next to the counter was a a white dress shirt and a sky blue vest. Both were covered in blood. Beside the claw foot bathtub was a pair of blood spattered dress pants. Bubbles spilled over the side of the tub a little ways. Inside the tub and partially covered in bubbles, was the lithe, porcelain skinned body of Alice Morgan.

One leg was crossed over the other; the bubbles were barely high enough to cover her breasts. Her red curls were piled in a messy bun on the top of her head so as to keep it from getting wet. In her left hand she held a glass of wine. She smiled coyly at Luther and said playfully, "The water's lovely, would you care to join me?"

As tempted as Luther was by the enticing offer, he merely leaned against the door frame and asked, "Are you going to make me clean this up?"

"Of course not, though I was going to ask if you would be a dear and go buy some bleach."

"What have you done, Alice?"

Alice reclined in the tub, moving the glass so that the wine nearly sloshed over the top of the glass. She sipped it slowly, running her tongue over her red lips as she replied, "The barista put foam in my latte. I said no foam."

"You killed someone over foam?"

She rolled her eyes and let out a sigh that made her chest heave and almost leave the bubbles. "Luther, do you really think I would do something like that?"

Luther started to reply, but his phone rang. He answered it, glowering darkly at the smirking woman. "What is it Ripley...The rapist, of course I remember...Who found him...Throat slit completely...No one saw anything...Are you sure it's him...I'll be there shortly." He ended the call and stared at Alice, "This was your work, I take it?"

She took another sip of wine and said, "Now, why on earth would you think that?" She glanced at the bubbles, running her fingers through the water slowly, "You have a crime scene to get to."

"You'll be here when I get back, won't you?"

"By "here" do you mean the apartment or the bathtub?"

"The bathtub," Luther replied as he stepped out of the bathroom and shut the door slowly, stealing one last glace at the still smirking woman.

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This ficlet wiggled it's way into my brain thanks to wolf-pirate55 and her wonderful Luther fanart called "Blood and Wine." You can find her DeviantART. "Blood and Wine" is the coverart for this fic.

Also, I do know Alice and John don't actually get together, well, in the seasons I've seen so far, anyway.