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Cora idly wanders around Tesco to search for some peppermint tea. Her nightmares had begun rearing their ugly head again, and peppermint tea was the only thing that kept her at ease. She volunteered to go food shopping with John, both knowing they couldn't rely on her brother to come because otherwise, they'd starve. Cora knew precisely what to get. Due to having lived together with her brother, she always had to get all the shopping done because she couldn't stand doing it. Having failed to find her tea, she meets up with John at the shop's exit, both having failed their food task.

"Where's the shopping gone?" Cora asked, frowning in confusion, seeing no bags in his possession.

"I argued with a chip and PIN machine. Don't you happen to have any money with you by any chance?"

"No, I left it back at the flat, sorry," Cora replied, letting out a sigh only just realising, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"So, when was the last time you had a decent night's sleep?" John asked, glancing sideways at her with a frown of concern as they both started heading out of the store. They hadn't talked about the night John had comforted her a while back, yet he could not help but be concerned, as a flatmate and a doctor, about what it could be doing to her mentally and physically. But who was he kidding when he's probably just as messed up as she is?

"Yes, sort of," Cora offered with a forced smile that she knew he probably wasn't buying.

John gave her a dubious look, "Really because I heard you get up at three this morning and found you in the living room watching late-night shopping on the way to the bathroom."

"Well, what can I say?" With a forced cheery tone, Cora responded, walking beside each other down the street, "It's interesting TV."

"Okay, when did you last get a decent night's sleep?" John inquired, more like a Doctor talking to his patient.

"Not sure, the last time was well..." she paused, glancing sideways at John briefly and awkwardly clearing her throat before continuing, "...with you that one time," she smiled gratefully, "That I'm thankful for, but I'm doing fine now really," Cora brushed off shrugging before slipping her hands into her coat pockets.

John shook his head, "Cora, you've been up every day since that night and when I moved in, and it isn't healthy."

"John, please," she stops before him, "I know your concern..."

"I am concerned," he abruptly cuts her off, "Because my flatmate isn't getting enough sleep, and for someone as smart as you should know what a lack of sleep does to the brain," the air between them goes silent for a moment as she again shrugged without care.

"So, are you still having those nightmares then?" John asked her as they looked both ways before crossing the street.

"Yes," Cora let out a sigh of defeat and nodded her head, knowing there was no convincing John that she wasn't coping well with her lack of sleep, "But it isn't just the nightmares that keep me up at all hours John," the older man sees the worry in her eyes that looked less blue today than usual. Yet, he could also hear the tiredness in her voice as she spoke, "It's Sherlock as well; he's always a constant worry."

"You can't worry about him all the time. He's a grown man. He can look after himself," John tells her as they turn the corner and head down Baker Street.

"What let him fend for himself?" she looked at him and disbelievingly scoffed, "I honestly don't see that happening anytime soon, do you? Besides, he's hopeless when it comes to doing the shopping because he won't get off his backside to do anything."

"Yet we both done such an excellent job of it as well," John joked slightly, trying to see the funny side of their uneventful shopping. He sees her crack a slight smile, knowing he's at least brought a little brightness to her day, which made him smile, too.

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They both walked back into 221B, and straight away, Cora knew what her brother had been up to, judging from the slight crease she could see in his suit jacket and the sword tucked underneath his armchair.

"Been busy, have we," she offered with a smirk.

"You both took a long time," Sherlock returned casually, ignoring his sister's comment, not looking up from the book he was reading.

"Um, we didn't get the shopping," Cora explained rather awkwardly with a shrug.

"What? Why not?" Sherlock now indignantly peered over the top of his book at them.

"Because I had an argument in the shop with a chip and PIN machine, and Cora forgot her money," John continued tetchily.

"You...you had a row with a machine?" Sherlock lowers his book a little.

"Sort of. It sat there, and I shouted abuse. Do you have any cash on you?"

"Take my card," Sherlock tells him, nodding toward the kitchen.

"You could always go yourself, you know," John began to suggest as he went towards the kitchen before turning back indignantly, gesturing at Sherlock, "You've been sitting there all this morning. You've not moved an inch since we left."

Cora slowly walked up to where Sherlock was sitting in his chair while John had gone into the kitchen to get her brother's card, "Just so you know, that scratch isn't going to come out, so for goodness sake, be more careful when fighting next time, dear brother," Sherlock only but shushed her.

"And what happened about that case? You were offered the Jaria diamond?" John asked, coming back from the kitchen.

"Not interested," Sherlock replied, placing some paper as a bookmark on the book page, shutting it with a loud snap and pushing the sword further out of sight with his foot underneath his chair, "I sent them a message."

John returns as Cora stays behind this time and does the almighty task of cleaning up her brother's mess.

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"Don't worry about me. I can manage," John said sarcastically as he came up the stairs with his arms full of shopping, while Cora stopped looking over her brother's shoulder from the e-mail they were reading from their old school friend at Uni Sebastian Wilkes (when she says old friend he was Cora's ex-boyfriend.)

"Here, let me help you," she takes some of the bags off John's hands, who returns her an appreciative smile and helps him begin unpacking the shopping.

When John pauses midway through emptying a shopping bag, he realises Sherlock is using his computer, "Is that my laptop?"

"Of course," Cora replied over her shoulder before opening one of the kitchen cupboards to put some of the tinned and dried goods away neatly.

"What?!"

"Mine was in the bedroom, and Cora has misplaced hers," Sherlock responded, staring at the screen as he typed away on the keyboard.

"What, and you couldn't be bothered to get up?" John asked with disbelief but got no response from the pair, "It's password-protected!"

Sherlock continued to type, "In a manner of speaking. Took me less than a minute to guess yours," he informed. Then, John looked up at him, "Not exactly Fort Knox."

"Right, thank you," rather annoyed John slammed it shut, and Sherlock moved his fingers away just in time.

Cora finally put away the last bits of shopping and leaned against the dining table. Her brother was now clasping his hands in prayer before his mouth with elbows propped on the table.

As John hid his laptop beside his armchair, slumped down into the chair, and picked up the pile of letters from the side table next to it, Cora heard him make a sound of concern, "Oh," she sees him now flicking through them, as red on caught her eye alarmingly, "Need to get a job."

"Oh, dull."

"Listen, um...if you'd be able to lend me some ...Sherlock, are you listening?"

"I need to go to the bank," Cora agreed with her brother as she fetched her coat.

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"Yes, when you said we were going to the bank ..." John mentions once they arrive at the impressive building going up the escalator at Shad Sanderson Bank. The siblings observe everyone and everything around them; once they approach the main desk to tell the woman their names, the woman leads them into Sebastian's office.

"Sherlock Holmes," Sebastian greeted with a grin, entering his office and shaking Sherlock's hand.

"Sebastian."

"Howdy, buddy. How long's it been? Eight years since I last clapped eyes on you?" Sherlock looked back at him, masking his dislike for the man. Whose eyes now travelled over his sister's form beside him, "Cora, it's been a long time. You still look stunning as ever."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, "Think that's enough with the pleasantries, don't you, Sebastian."

"This is our friend, John Watson," Cora mostly caught on to her brother's overemphasis on the word 'friend'.

It seemed Sebastian had noticed it as well, "Friend?"

"Colleague," John corrected him.

"Right," he nodded before shaking hands with the blonde man, "Right."

Sebastian sends only throws Sherlock a brief look as if to say, 'didn't know you had a friend!' his grin rather unpleasant looking to the female Holmes, giving his neck a scratch for only a mere few seconds as the twins momentarily gaze upon the watch he was wearing. Sebastian turned away just as John pursed his lips, taking an instant dislike to the man and how he leered at Cora earlier. Something told John that she and Sebastian used to be close, but time had made them drift apart. Also, he felt a little regretful for correcting Sherlock only a few moments ago.

"Well, grab a pew," Sebastian offers the three a seat, "D'you need anything? Coffee, water?" offering them a beverage, but both the twins declined with a shake of their heads.

"No," John also decided to decline.

"No?" the man looked to his secretary, "We're all sorted here, thanks," she took her to leave the office; Sebastian went to sit behind his desk, and the others sat opposite him.

"So, you're doing well. You've been abroad a lot. Flying round the world twice in a month?" Sherlock indicated, confusing John, yet all Sebastian could do was point and laugh at Sherlock.

"Right. You're doing that thing," Sebastian looked at John briefly, "We were all at uni together. These two had a trick they used to do."

"It's not a trick," Sherlock muttered quietly whilst Cora rolled her eyes.

"They could look at you and tell you your whole life story," Sebastian tells John.

"Yes, I've seen them do it."

"Use to the wind-up, everybody. We hated them," Sherlock turned his head away and down at the ground, a moment of pain on his face at this.

"You'd come down to breakfast in the Formal Hall, and these freaks would know you'd been shagging the previous night," Sebastian subtly winked at the female Holmes, whom John noticed briefly, who looked somewhat uneasy.

"I simply observed," Sherlock added quietly with a false smile, not liking the wink Sebastian gave his sister after he cheated on her. However, he couldn't entirely trust the man.

"Go on, enlighten me. You're quite right about two monthly trips flying around the world. How could you tell?" Sherlock is about to open his mouth only to get stopped by Sebastian, who continues to speak with a smugness to his voice, making John smile, "You're gonna tell me there was, um, a stain on my tie from some special kind of ketchup you can only buy in Manhattan."

"No, I..."

"Maybe it was the mud on my shoes!" Sebastian goes on talking over him.

Sherlock and Cora simply looked back at him, for as the male Holmes now uttered, well lied, "I was just chatting with your secretary outside. She told me."

John frowned at Sherlock, confused by such an 'ordinary' response. Yet all Sebastian could let out was a humourless laugh that sent an unnerving chill down Cora's spine. Honestly, she didn't know what she saw in that man all those years ago. She and Sherlock returned an equally sarcastic smile lacking any humour.

When Sebastian clapped his hands together, coming over more severe, "I'm glad you could make it over. We've had a break-in," he led the trio across the trading floor to another door. "Sir William's office – the bank's former Chairman. The room's been left here like a sort of memorial. Someone broke in late last night," he went on to inform them as they walked through the bank towards the office that had been broken into.

"What was stolen?" The female Holmes raised in question.

"Nothing. Just left a little message," Sebastian held his security card beside the door to unlock it.

Once finally inside the office, they are greeted by a white wall and hung upon it was a painting behind an enormous desk, a framed portrait of a man in a suit, presumably the late Sir William Shad himself. To the left of it, somebody had sprayed in bright yellow what appears to be a graffiti 'tag' on the number eight, but with the top left open, and above is a horizontal straight line. Also, across the eyes of the portrait was an almost entirely horizontal line that had been overdone, causing trails of yellow paint down the painting.

Sebastian leads them towards the desk, stepping aside to give Sherlock a better view. John is standing on the other side of Sebastian, and Cora is beside the older blonde, wanting to keep herself a distance from the other man but still able to gaze unmoving with pure concentration at the painting like her brother.

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A while later, they are back in Sebastian's office, who's showing the trio security footage from the previous night before.

"Sixty seconds apart," he went back and forth the time stamps where one minute it showed the room and portrait covered in spray paint, and then a minute earlier it being completely pristine, "So, someone came up here in the middle of the night, splashed paint around, then left within a minute."

"How many ways into that office?" Sherlock inquired.

"Well, that's where this gets interesting." Sebastian shows them a computer screen in the reception area with a layout of the trading floor and surrounding offices. Each indicated door has a light against it, showing its security status. "Every door that opens in this bank gets logged right here. Every walk-in cupboard, every toilet."

"That door didn't open last night?" Cora went on to ask.

"There's a hole in our security. Find it, and we'll pay you – five figures," Sebastian reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket, pulling out a cheque; Sherlock rolled his eyes in disbelief as he didn't want Sebastian's money, especially after what he did to his sister, "This is an advance. Tell me how he got in; there's a bigger one on its way."

"I don't need an incentive, Sebastian," Sherlock goes to walk away without bothering to take the cheque Cora not far behind him.

John watched them leave, quickly turning to Sebastian with a sheepish yet awkward expression, "He's, uh, he's kidding you, obviously," he held out his hand, "Shall I look after that?" The other man passes him the cheque, "Thanks," he gazes at the amount written on it, eyes wide.

"Oh, and Cora, it was lovely to see you again," the female Holmes hears her ex call after her, eyeing her up and down like she was a piece of meat, "How about we catch up over a drink sometime and maybe go back to mine afterwards and..." it shouldn't bother John the way Sebastian was looking at Cora. Still, he could see she was taking it in her stride and not phased by Sebastian's leering the slightest.

"I'd love to catch up and reminisce about how you screwed me over, Sebastian, but you'd rather be shagging your PA, wouldn't you or the other dozen women you've got your hands full with," Cora returned scathingly, arms folded in front of her glaring at him before walking away looking rather smug with herself not needing to see the look on Sebastian's face.

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Sherlock and Cora returned to Sir William's office, and the male Holmes took several photographs of the graffiti on his mobile phone. They looked about the office to see where the picture could be seen best guessing it might be a message for someone that someone was Edward Van Coon

"Two trips around the world this month. You didn't ask his secretary; you said that to irritate him," John inquired as the trio walked out of the bank, both the twins smiling instead of answering his question, "How did you know?"

"Did you notice his watch?" Sherlock asked John.

"His watch?"

"The time was right, but the date was wrong."

"Said two days ago. Crossed the dateline twice, but he didn't alter it," the female Holmes finished off.

"Within a month? How'd you get that part?"

"New Breitling only came out this February," Sherlock informed the older blonde.

"Okay. So, d'you think we should sniff around here for a bit longer?"

"Got everything we need to know already. That graffiti was a message for someone at the bank working on the trading floors," Cora answered before trailing off on purpose to allow John to finish off, "We find the intended recipient and..."

"...they'll lead us to the person who sent it."

"Obvious," Sherlock added.

"Well, there's three hundred people up there. So who was it meant for?"

"Pillars," Cora simply replied.

"What?" John frowned at her with uncertainty.

"Pillars and the screens. There are very few places you can see graffiti from. That narrows the field considerably. And, of course, the message was left at eleven thirty-four last night. That tells us a lot."

"Does it?" John asked them both as they went through the revolving doors onto the street.

"Traders come to work at all hours. Some trade with Hong Kong in the middle of the night. That message was intended for someone who came in at midnight," Cora continued from her brother, now holding up the card of Edward Van Coon to John that she had captured from the office, "Not many Van Coons in the phonebook," she spots what they need immediately and hollers, "Taxi!"

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After a short taxi ride, they are stood outside the block of flats where Edward Van Coon lives. First, Sherlock presses the labelled buzzer for the man's flat. Then, letting go, he gazes into the security camera above the other buzzers and waits a few seconds but gets no response. Cora also gives it a try, but there is still no answer.

"So what do we do now? Sit here and wait for him to come back?" John asked as he watched the twins look at the buzzers on the wall and step back to gaze up at the flats. They both come back to the wall, looking equally triumphant.

"Just moved in," Sherlock points to the new name labelled buzzer above Van Coon's

"What?"

"The floor above has a new label," Cora tells John, her red manicured nail pointing at a handwritten label that reads 'Wintle.'

"Could have just replaced it," John suggested with a shrug as Sherlock gave the buzzer another press.

"No one ever does that," Cora tells John, knowingly lightly shaking her head.

A woman's voice now came over the intercom, "Hello?"

Sherlock and Cora quickly turn around, putting on smiles along with the guise that they are 'normal human beings' like everyone else, "Hi! Um, I live in the flat just below you. I-I don't think we've met," he continued to put on with a grin into the camera.

"No, well, uh, I've just moved in," the twins throw John a brief told you, so look over their shoulders and turn back to the camera.

"I've just locked my keys in my flat," he grimaces and nods to Cora, pretending to squirm like one did when desperately needing the bathroom, "Also, my sister is bursting to use the loo."

"D'you want me to buzz you in?" the lady asked.

"Yeah, and can we use your balcony?"

"What?" the woman asked, a little baffled.

Soon as the door buzzer alerted the unlocking of the door, Sherlock grabbed hold of his sister, "Come along, sister dear I may need your assistance," he now glanced over his shoulder, "John, wait here, and we'll buzz you in once we get inside Van Coon's flat."

After Sherlock flirted his way, Ms. Wintle, if Cora thought what her brother did was teasing, knowing well enough he's never much for social interaction. Well, she isn't much, but at least she has a little more heart than he does than the two of them. Getting onto the balcony, they both looked down to the several floors below them.

Sherlock first climbs over and lands on the balcony outside Van Coon's flat, followed by Cora, who he catches. Then, looking down over the side, Sherlock presses on the unlocked door handle.

They both enter and start investigating the very elegant flat but don't hear the door buzzer going to let John in, "Cora? Sherlock?" It's until they come across some locked double doors.

"Sherlock, Cora, are you both okay?" John's voice muffled through the flat's door, but they still ignored him, "Yeah, any time either of you feel like letting me in."

Sherlock turns side on, going to barge the doors open with his shoulder, and his sister comes up beside him as they find a dead Van Coon in his suit and overcoat flat on the bed, a bullet hole in his right temple a pistol lying in his hand.

"Call Lestrade, would you, Cora," so she did, but it wouldn't be him they'd be expecting.

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Van Coon's flat has now become a crime scene with pictures being taken of the deceased, and nearby a forensics officer is dusting a mirror for fingerprints along with other officers collecting evidence in different parts of the flat. Both Holmes siblings have since ditched their coats and scarfs, both pulling on some latex gloves. John is beside them on the left-hand side of Sherlock, glancing briefly over at Cora for a moment, noting how her blue blouse almost matched her eyes.

"D'you think he'd lost a lot of money?" John asked, now tearing his eyes away from Cora, knowing she probably wouldn't have noticed him looking anyway, "I mean, suicide is pretty common among City boys."

"We don't know that it was suicide."

"Come on. The door was locked inside; you had to climb the balcony."

Cora now crouches down beside the open suitcase, skimming through its contents and taking note of the deep indentation in the case, "Well, judging by his laundry, I'd say he's been away three days at the most," she stood back up to look at John, "Look at the case," the female Holmes indicates, "There was something tightly packed inside it."

"Thanks – I'll take your word for it," John is unsure whether to believe her.

"Problem?" Sherlock asked him.

"Yeah, I'm not desperate to root around some bloke's dirty underwear," John voiced disgustingly.

Sherlock and Cora approach the foot of the bed as the male Holmes speaks, "Those symbols at the bank, the graffiti. Why were they put there?"

"What, some sort of code?" John suggested to them.

"Well, obviously," Cora scoffed, rolling her eyes as her brother's eyes scanned along Van Coon's legs down to his shoes, then back up again. He lets Cora open the dead man's jacket to check his pockets, "Why were they painted? If you want to communicate, why not use e-mail?"

"Well, maybe he wasn't answering."

"Oh, good. You follow."

"No," both siblings stop what their doing, throwing the older man a look, and Sherlock now goes back to examine Van Coon's hands.

"What kind of a message would everyone try to avoid? What about this morning – those letters you were looking at?"

"Bills?" John asked, frowning in confusion.

Meanwhile, Cora ever so carefully prises open Van Coon's mouth open, and she pulls out what appears to be a small origami flower made from black paper.

"Yes. He was being threatened," Sherlock points at the paper flower in his sister's hand.

"Bag this up, will you..." a man's voice says just outside the bedroom.

As Sherlock opens an evidence bag, John looks closer at the flower, and Cora drops it inside, "Not by the gas board."

"...and see if you can get prints off this glass," the man, a plain-clothed police officer who Cora thought looked young enough that he should be at school. She smiles at him.

Sherlock goes toward him, about to shake his hand, "Ah, Sergeant. We haven't met."

Yet the young man ignores them both thoroughly, hands now on his hips, looking at one Holmes then the other rather displeased to see them here, "Yeah, I know who two you are, and I'd prefer it if you didn't tamper with any of the evidence."

Sherlock's hand now lowers, and Cora's smile is wiped off her face as she passes him the evidence.

"I've phoned Lestrade. Is he on his way?" the female Holmes asked the young man.

"He's busy. I'm in charge. And it's not Sergeant; it's Detective Inspector. Dimmock," Both siblings and John are surprised by this sharing looks with one another before following Dimmock out from the bedroom into the living area, passing the evidence Cora gave him to another forensics member, "We're looking at a suicide."

"That does seem the only explanation of all the facts," John voiced in opinion as the twins took off their latex gloves to look at him.

"Wrong. It's one possible explanation of some of the facts," Sherlock and Cora now turn to Dimmock, "You've got a solution that you like, but you're choosing to ignore anything you see that doesn't comply with it."

"Like?"

"The wound was on the right side of his head."

"And?"

"Van Coon was left-handed," Sherlock began to elaborate with mime trying to get the whole point across, pretending to try and point a gun at his right temple with his left hand, "Requires quite a bit of contortion."

"Left-handed?" Dimmock went on to ask.

"Oh, I'm amazed you didn't notice," Sherlock returned sarcastically, "All you have to do is look around this flat to now point at the table near the sofa, "Coffee table on the left-hand side; coffee mug handle pointing to the left. Power sockets: habitually used the ones on the left...pen and paper on the left-hand side of the phone because he picked it up with his right and took down messages with his left. D'you want me to go on?"

"No, I think you've covered it," John put tiredly.

"Oh, I might as well; I'm almost at the bottom of the list," John nods nearby as if to say, 'Yeah, I thought you might.' I'm probably getting bored of my voice by now, Cora dear. Please finish off."

"Of course," Cora smiled at her brother and continued where he left off, now gesturing towards the kitchen, "There's a knife on the breadboard with butter on the right side of the blade because he used it with his left," she turned to face Dimmock with a look of impatience upon not only her features but Sherlocks as well, "It's doubtful that a left-handed man would shoot himself in the right side of his head. Conclusion: Someone broke in here and murdered him. The only explanation of all the facts."

"But the gun, why..."

"He was waiting for the killer. He'd been threatened," Sherlock interrupted before walking as he and his sister put on their coats and scarves.

"What?"

"Today at the bank. Sort of a warning," John voiced.

"He fired a shot when his attacker came in," Cora told Dimmock.

"And the bullet?"

"Went through the open window."

"Oh, come on! What are the chances of that?!"

"Wait until you get the ballistics report. The bullet in his brain wasn't fired from his gun. I guarantee it," Sherlock told the young-looking Detective Inspector.

"But how did the killer get in if his door was locked?" Dimmock asked.

"Good! You're finally asking the right questions," Cora returned in a condescending yet sarcastic manner before leaving along with John, who offered a look of apology on the twin's behalf and followed after them.

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Having left the flat, Sherlock phoned Sebastian's office and found out he was out for lunch with some clients and work colleagues. Getting the restaurant's name, they went to tell him what they had discovered.

Upon entering the establishment, Cora could hear his loud, obnoxious voice that almost hit a nerve as the trio approached his table. "...and he's left trying to cut his hair with a fork, which can never be done!

"It was a threat. That's what the graffiti meant," Sherlock mentions.

"I'm kind of in a meeting. Can you make an appointment with my secretary?"

"I don't think this can wait. Sorry, Sebastian. One of your traders, someone who worked in your office, was killed."

"What?" Sebastian asked them.

"Van Coon. The police are currently at his flat," Cora tells him.

"Killed?"

"Sorry to interfere with everyone's digestion," Sherlock put sarcastically, "Still wanna make an appointment? Would, maybe, nine o'clock at Scotland Yard suit you?" Sebastian puts his water down nervously, running a finger inside his shirt collar at the irritated looks he received from the twins.

Shortly afterwards, Sebastian and the trio relocated to the toilets in the restaurant. Sebastian is washing his hands, "Harrow; Oxford. He's a very bright guy. Worked in Asia for a while, so..."

"...you gave him the Hong Kong accounts."

"Lost five mill in a single morning; made it all back a week later. Nerves of steel, Eddie had," Sebastian went on, now drying his hands on a towel.

"Who'd wanna kill him?" John implored.

"We all make enemies."

"You don't all end up with a bullet through your temple," Cora conveyed to her ex, irritated by his behaviour, who was more interested in himself and his phone as it now gets a text.

"Not usually. 'Scuse me," Sebastian pulled out his phone, looked at it and left the room.

Gif by belovass