It was half past five in the evening. I was sitting at the dining table with my parents and my brother, Elijah. He was simultaneously reading a comic book whilst twisting his fork in his spaghetti. He was always such a nerd, but that didn't stop him from being popular. Well, I say popular -- he was the type to be friends with everyone, even the popular kids. But he still didn't hang around with them, he stuck to his own friends who were also social with all the cliques.

He was taller than me, pale with the same coloured hair and hazel eyes. But like all brothers, he was annoying.

As soon as the doorbell rang I pushed my almost clean plate aside. "I'll get it!"

"Are you expecting anyone?" My mother asked, narrowing her eyes.

"It's probably her boyfriend again."

"Shut up, Jay." I muttered, glaring at him before I left the room. I rushed towards the dark wooden door and unlocked it, pulling the door open. I smiled when I saw the familiar set of brown, curly locks and his beautiful coloured eyes staring back. Sherlock had a condition called sectoral heterochromia, which is responsible for how his eyes seem to change from green to blue, depending on the light. I loved his eyes, I could get lost in them for hours.

"Hello." He greeted, a polite smile tugging at his lips.

"Hey." I smiled back, opening the door wider for him to enter. He did so, and I shut the door behind him.

"Hey Sherlock." I low voice came from behind. I turned around and saw my brother Elijah leaning against the frame of the living room door.

"Elijah." He greeted back, with a small nod of his head.

"Please, just Jay." He said, obviously feeling more comfortable by being called that. He folded his arms. "I guess I'll leave you to your revision, or whatever code name you're using."

"We're actually doing some math revision," I told him, plastering a look of annoyance. "We're not having kinky sex. Grow up, loser."

Sherlock winded his eyes at my sarcastic comeback, and Elijah just laughed. "Chill out, I'm only joking. But on a series note, you two actually meet up just to do revision? And you call me the loser."

"Well, maybe we'll talk about other things and watch a movie or something. It's non of your business."

"Whatever. Just make sure to leave your door open otherwise mum and dad will get the wrong impression."

"Well thank you for the concern." I mutter.

With a roll of my eyes, I grabbed Sherlock's arm and began to tug him up the stairs. I wasn't in the mood to be dealing with my brother today. When I finally reached my room, I pulled Sherlock inside and shut my door behind him to piss off my family, but also to prove we didn't need to leave it open in the first place. We wasn't doing anything wrong.

"Sorry about him." I apologised for my brothers irritating behaviour, sitting down on the bed. Sherlock placed his backpack on the floor and sat down too.

"I think all siblings are intolerable." He replied, giving me a small smile as if he was trying to make me feel better. I shifted my gaze to his bag, wanting to talk about something different.

"Did you bring the revision books?"

He nodded yes, reaching his hand over to pick up his bag, "And also that book you wanted to read."

"The Agatha Christie one?" My eyes widened for a short moment from the anticipation as he unzipped his bag.

"Yes. Mycroft had it stashed away on a shelf in his bedroom. He'll probably notice it missing, but I doubt he'd be that concerned. He's only read it half a dozen times." He mused, pulling out the large novel with the title 'And Then There Were None' by Agatha Christie. I couldn't help but to let out an excited squeal.

"Oh my God! I've been wanting to read this for so long!" I fangirled, and when Sherlock handed it me I couldn't help but to hold my breath. It felt as if he were handing me the crown jewels or something, and I was afraid that I would accidentally rip a page or that I would throw it into a volcano by mistake.

I needed to stop over-reacting.

"Thank you." I breathed, throwing my arms around him. He seemed a little surprised, but quickly returned the warm embrace.

"Don't mention it." He responded, his voice soft and kind.

~

Letting out a sigh, I lolled my head to the side slightly to stretch the muscles in my neck. I never did well with car rides, especially ones that were quite long which caused me to recap memories from the past. Sherlock opened the door and climbed out of the taxi, chucking a note at the cab driver whilst me and John climbed out too.

When I looked up at the building in front of us, I realised we were outside a restaurant.

"Sebastian's secretary said he'd be here." Sherlock mused, digging his hands into his coat pockets. We all made our way inside the fancy restaurant, and I just continued to walk straight ahead casually until I heard a womans voice behind me.

"I'm sorry, you're going to have to make a reservation before coming in." She said politely to John and Sherlock. It was then I realised I must have managed to walk past without her knowing.

"No, er, we just need to speak to someone." John protested, and I just turned on my heels and continued to look for Sebastian before the woman wasted my time too. I noticed Sebastian having lunch with a bunch of men in suits, presumingly some clients or work colleagues. I walked straight over to his table, and once he noticed me he instantly stopped laughing.

"Oh, you again." He grinned, putting his glass of water down.

"Me again." I confirmed, glancing at the other males who stared with curiosity.

"What are you doing here?" He questioned, "Here to take up my offer?"

"You wish," I scoffed, "I'm here because of Van Coon."

"It was a threat. That's what the graffiti meant." Sherlock interrupted after finally managing to get past the young lady that was pestering him about booking a table before hand.

"I'm kind of in a meeting. Can you make an appointment with my secretary?" Sebastian asked, seemingly annoyed now John and Sherlock were here.

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

"What?" Sebastian was stunned as he exchanged glances with us all.

"Van Coon. The police are at his flat." John spoke up. Sebastian just shook his head, still shocked.

"Killed?"

"Sorry to interfere with everyone's digestion." Sherlock vocalised sarcastically, "Still want to make an appointment? Would, maybe, nine o'clock at Scotland Yard suit?"

Sebastian nervously ran a finger inside his shirt collar, before pushing back on his chair and standing up. "This way." He ordered, apologising for the disturbance to his fellow friends. Me, Sherlock and John all followed after him as he led us to a hallway, and then to another door with had a sign saying 'Men's Toilets'.

"Uh, guys?" I raised my brows and stopped before I walked inside. Sherlock glanced back at me, confused. Sebastian seemed to understand but didn't seem to care.

"I guess you're waiting outside then." Sebastian stated. Sherlock looked at the sign on the door, realising what it said.

"I'm not standing outside the door like a guard." I told them, mainly because I didn't want to miss out on the conversation they were about to have and also to annoy Sebastian. He seemed surprised that I walked into the men's toilets, but I didn't care. No one was in here anyway.

"I feel like you're invading my privacy." Sebastian denounced.

"Get over it." I snapped, crossing my arms and leaning my back against the door. John just shifted on his feet uncomfortably, and Sherlock didn't seemed bothered. He just wanted to speak about the matter.

"Fine. At least turn around," Sebastian said, undoing his zippier, "Unless you want to have a sneaky peak."

I heard Sherlock let out a heavy sigh, and I just rolled my eyes and turned around. Seconds later, I could hear the noises of him peeing. Shortly afterwards, Sherlock began telling Sebastian about what happened and Sebastian stood there, washing his hands.

"Harrow; Oxford. Very bright guy. Worked in Asia for a while, so..." Sebastian trailed on, until John finished his sentence for him.

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

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

"Who'd wanna kill him?"

"We all make enemies."

"But you don't all end up with a bullet through your temple." I said. Sebastian glanced up at me.

"Not usually. 'Scuse me." He replied, his phone beeping from a text alert. He reached for his phone in his pocket and pulled it out, looking at the message. "It's my Chairman. The police have been on to him. Apparently they're telling him it was a suicide."

"Well, they've got it wrong, Sebastian. He was murdered." Sherlock told him sternly, knowing he was right.

"Well, I'm afraid they don't see it like that."

"Seb--"

"And neither does my boss. I hired you to do a job. Don't get side-tracked." His tone was flinty as he gave us all a hard stare, before finally walking away. John waited until he had left the room before he turned back towards me and Sherlock.

"I thought bankers were all supposed to be heartless bastards."