I walked out of the coffee bean with a smile plastered on my face. The interview had gone better than expected, the people were friendly and the fact that the interview was taken place in the cafe and not in some fancy business room just helped to settle my nerves. I didn't know what I was expecting, it was only the coffee bean after all.

Buttoning up coat, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, indicating I had a text. I grabbed my phone and unlocked the screen, seeing who it was from.

'Me & Sherlock are going to shad sandersons bank. Come meet us after ur interview if u dont have a spare key. Hope everything is going well! :)' John texted me. He had only just sent the message, and they're most likely going to be taking a taxi there which is probably going to take fifteen minutes, plus the traffic which will make is about twenty to twenty-five minutes. I was already pretty close, it should only take me ten minutes to walk there. I should be able to meet them on time.

I got there later than I expected. I entered the building through a revolving glass door and looked around, seeing no sign of Sherlock. I glanced around again, making sure he wasn't hiding in the crowd. It shouldn't be too hard to find him -- he was over six feet tall and wears a thick trench coat for Heavens sake.

They probably hadn't even arrived yet, so instead I gave up looking and made my way outside once more, reaching for my phone to text John. I nearly dropped my mobile when my body collided with another, but someone with incredible good reflexes caught it just in time before it shattered on the ground. "You want to be careful with this kind of stuff. They're expensive these days."

Looking up, I saw Sherlock and John stood besides him. Huh, what are the chances. "Hi."

"Hi." He repeated, giving me a smile.

"How did your interview go?" John spoke up, to which I just looked at him a shrugged.

"They said they'd let me know at the end of the week."

"Well, I'm sure you got the job." John assured me with a sweet smile, to which I returned. Sherlock decided to continue walking ahead, to which me and John exchanged looks before following after. I looked around the building once more, this time admiring the impressive foyer. We follow Sherlock to the escalators, curious to what we were doing here if we were not drawing money out.

Once she reached the top of the escalator, we follow Sherlock who walks over to the reception desk and addresses one of the receptionists. A little while later, all three of us have been guided towards man's office, someone named Sebastian Wilkes. We're left alone as we wait for Sebastian to show up. Non of us sit, we all decide to stand as we wait. But I had my hands behind my back as I took in my surroundings. "So why are we here?"

"A case." Sherlock answered.

"Not from the police, I assume." I said as I observed the objects on a near by shelf. A photograph of a man with a few other people at a restaurant, they all seemed the same age and were dressed very formally. This Sebastian didn't have any family; no wife or husband, or children. If he did then he would have had a photo of them framed instead. This man is purely business.

"No, not from the police." Sherlock replied, looking around the office too. Suddenly a man in a suit walks into the room and sends a grin Sherlock's way. "Sherlock Holmes!"

"Sebastian." Sherlock mumbled in reply. Sebastian stepped closer and clasped Sherlock's hand in both of his own as he shook it, the cocky smile still evident on his face. He looked amused and cheery, whereas Sherlock tensed. He seemed almost nervous.

"Howdy, buddy. How long's it been? Eight years since I last clapped eyes on you?"

Sherlock looked back at the male with and expression, one I can only describe as marginal dislike. "These are my friends. John Watson and Eleanor Parker."

"Friends?" Sebastian eyes raised.

"Colleague." John corrected, making me wonder why he said that in the first place. But then again, Sherlock and John have only known each other for so long. And after he said it he seemed to have regretted it.

"Right." Sebastian tore his eyes away from John and met mine, looking at me curiously. "You too?"

I shook my head, "No, I'm a friend."

He seemed surprise, and then threw a brief look at Sherlock with an unpleasant grin, as if saying, 'Didn't think you had a friend!'. "Does anyone need anything? Coffee, water?" Sherlock shakes his head, and me and John decline him. Sebastian looks back to his to his secretary, "We're all sorted here, thanks."

As his secretary leaves the room, Sebastian straightened his posture and sent me a smile. "Maybe we could grab coffee another time?"

I shook my head no and forced a smile. I desperately wanted to say something insulting to the man, even though he never said anything bad to me or to the others -- I just instantly got bad vibes from him. He just seemed like an arrogant prick, but I didn't want to ruin Sherlock's chance of being involved in this case. If he's here then it must be important. "No, thank you."

"So, you're doing well. You've been abroad a lot." Sherlock spoke up, changing the subject. Sebastian nodded and took a seat at his desk. "Flying all the way round the world twice in a month?"

There's a pause before Sebastian laughs and points a finger at Sherlock. "Right. You're doing that thing." He started, looking at me a John. "We were at uni together. This guy here had a trick he used to do."

"It's not a trick." Sherlock said quietly. I clenched my jaw, knowing I had a really short temper and I was bound to lash out soon to defend my childhood friend.

"He could look at you and tell you your whole life story. Put the wind up everybody. We hated him." Sebastian laughed lowly. Sherlock turns his head away and glanced down, his face filling with pain for a moment. "You'd come down to breakfast in the Formal Hall and this freak would know who you'd been shagging the previous night."

"I'm wondering -- is your ass jealous with the amount of shit that is coming out of your mouth?" I couldn't help myself, and I knew I was being childish. I could have said anything which didn't make me sound like a fifteen year old throwing stupid insults. John widened his eyes and nudged me, telling me to be quiet. Sherlock turned his head to face me, but I could tell he appreciated someone sticking up for him. Sebastian's smile fell, and he looked between us all.

"What? I don't get it." He said simply. I shook my head and gave him a fake smile, passing it off as if I made a joke. Sebastian laughed again. "Yeah, anyway, he was a total smart-arse. It's a weird talent to have and he never mind using it against us. It pissed us all off."

"I simply observed." Sherlock stated again, quietly. As if he were being bullied. And to me that's what got me so angry. It just reminded me of when we were in high school and how people used to treat him.

"Go on, enlighten me. Two trips a month, flying all the way around the world – you're quite right. How could you tell? You're gonna tell me there was a stain on my tie from some special kind of ketchup you can only buy in Manhattan." He said smugly, talking over Sherlock before he had the chance to speak up again. "Maybe it was the mud on my shoes!"

Sherlock stared at him blankly, before saying: "I was just chatting with your secretary outside. She told me."

I furrowed my brows, and John frowns. We were both confused by his simple and ordinary explanation, but I quickly deduced it was to annoy Sebastian -- to prove him wrong. We both knew Sherlock didn't chat to the secretary. Sebastian starts to laugh again before clapping his hands together, becoming more serious. "I'm glad you could make it over. We've had a break-in."

Sebastian sat up from his chair and walked passed us, opening the door to his office. We followed after him and he leads us across the trading floor and towards 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."

"What did they steal?" John inquired.

"Nothing. Just left a little message." Sebastian answered, before holding his security card against the reader to unlock the door. When we walk inside, I instantly see a framed portrait of someone, and the painting was hung up on a plain white wall behind a large desk. On the left to the portrait, there was some graffiti sprayed in yellow paint. It looked like a number eight but with the top of the number left open, and above it is an almost horizontal straight line. Across the eyes of the portrait itself, another almost horizontal straight line had been sprayed.

"That's an odd thing to do." I said out loud, stating the obvious. "If I broke in here I would have probably used spray paint to draw a moustache on the portrait and give him some big, bushy eyebrows."

"Still sure you're not up for that coffee later?" Sebastian suggested again, and when I turned to my right to face him I saw him grinning. He seemed impressed, I wish the feeling was mutual. Sherlock sends Sebastian a look of annoyance and eyes us both carefully for a few seconds before focusing his attention to the wall.

"I'm sure." I responded, looking at Sherlock expectantly while the detective stares in fixed concentration at the graffiti. After a short moment I look towards Sebastian again. "Any security footage?"

"Right this way." He smirked at me, before turning on his heels and walking away. Me and John exchanged looks before following after him, Sherlock trailing after us. We end up back in Sebastian's office, and he shows us the footage of the office from the previous night.

"Sixty seconds apart." Sebastian voiced, flicking back and forth between a still photograph which shows the paint on the wall and portrait, and then shows us another which was taken a minute earlier when there was no graffiti on the wall. "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 asked.

"Well," Sebastian began again, his eyes meeting Sherlock's, "that's where this gets really interesting."