Boring. Boring. Boring. Boring. Tyler thought as she flicked through the channels on the telly waiting for something interesting to catch her eye. Nothing did. Giving up she turned it off and tossed the remote to the side with a huff of air. Her eyes darted over to the clock hanging on the wall and another wave of boredom fell over her.

He wouldn't be home for another hour. She thought with a roll of her eyes as she fell back onto the couch.

Her 23rd birthday had been the other week and he had taken week off just for her, so now he needed to make up for that lost time and impatient clients. Even if that meant going out into the field himself and getting his hands dirty. She loved the things he would do for her, but that also meant not seeing him as much as she liked.

Speak of the Devil and he shall show himself.

Her phone rang loudly and she hurried to answer it, not liking the ringtone slicing through her peaceful silence. She took one look at the caller ID and jumped up into a sitting position a bright smile playing at her plump lips, "Jimmy!"

He chuckled deeply at her excitement, "Rosie," he greeted back and she smiled at the nickname. "I need your help disposing of a body, I would call one of my other men, but I miss you." He admitted.

Tyler bit on her thumbnail, "I'll be right there," She went to go hang up but quickly stopped herself. "Where's there?" She asked.

"I'll text you the address, see you there Kitten." With that he clicked off.

Tyler hurried into her usual work outfit, she had to play the roll of the great assassin she was. It consisted of a black bustier top that showed off her stomach and had a strap that came up through her cleavage and connected across her chest, paired with high-wasted shorts. She slipped on her knee high boots and grabbed both her her black trench coat and her phone, slipping the former on as she headed out the door.

She stared up at the large chemical plant, it ringing a bell in her memories as she pushed through the large double doors. The more she ventured inside, the more she recognized it. It was where Jim had first made her swear her loyalty.

A light at the end of the hallway caught her eyes and she hurried to it, pushing through the heavy door with a resonating creak. The first thing she saw was the dead woman on the floor. Her long black hair fell around her like a spiderweb in the corner of the room, blood matting it to her forehead. Her already pale skin was nearly translucent and dark liquid stained the concrete around her. The kill shot easily being pinpointed as a shot through her head.

"Head shot?" Tyler questioned, hearing footsteps behind her and the familiar musk alerting her of who it was. "You lack imagination."

"I have plenty of imagination," he purred into her ear, his arms snaking around her waist from behind. "I was merely in a rush to get back to you." She melted into his hold as his teeth latched onto her ear, nibbling softly.

"Mm, come on, I came to help not get distracted," she pushed out of his grip so she could turn around to face him. His wild black hair stuck up all over the place making her want to run her hands through it. His dark eyes were crazed with blood lust, paired with a few specks of dried blood painted across his face.

He smiled at her, his eyes searching hers, "Alright, do me a favor and check the body for anything I might want." He nodded at the body.

She gave a single nod waiting for him to pull away first before doing as he asked. She checked the body over thoroughly finding nothing important. A wallet with barely twenty dollars inside and a lot of expired gift cards. A cell phone with a pair of headphones plugged in. A couple of receipts and candy wrappers. A folded note caught her attention and she opened it carefully, the paper was stained with blood but she could clearly make out the two words written on it.

Marry Me?

She frowned, turning in her spot being knelt on the ground, to face Jim, "Jim, what's-"

Instead of seeing Jim, she came face to face with a dazzling ring. It was a beautiful gold cut with three decent sized diamonds decorating, all placed delicately in a small box. Her eyes widened as they snapped up to meet Jim's who had gotten down onto his knees with her. "Oh, my God..." She whispered, her voice barely loud enough for him to hear her.

"Tyler Rose Jackson," He began with a cheeky smile, already seeing the beginnings of a wide smile pulling at her lips. "I love you, the dark side of you. Any girl can play innocent, but it was your demons that drove me wild, your secrets, your pain, your darkness is what made me love you. I am more a beast than a man, more anarchy than order, more scoundrel than saint, but you loved all of my darkness as I did yours. Will you marry me, Rosie?"

"Yes," She could barely get out the single word, barely being able to express how she felt in that moment. She looked into his dark eyes, seeing the demons that lurked behind the never ending pools and smiled. For she fell for the same thing, he worried she would fear. He slipped the ring onto her finger before two hands came up to cup her face, pulling her lips up to meet his. She was the one to break it, pressing her forehead to his, the only sound in the room being her heavy breathing and Jim whispering 'I love you' a million times over.

~*~

Tyler woke with a start, hearing pounding on her bedroom door. Sluggishly she got out of bed and opened it to see Clara standing there in her pajamas, "Why's your door locked?"

Tyler licked her dry lips and shook her head, "What'd you need?"

"I heard fighting next door, thought you might want to come check it out with me." Clara offered.

Tyler frowned, what would Sherlock and John be fighting about? "Doesn't Sherlock have a client today?" Tyler asked.

At that Clara's eyes widened, forgetting she was still in her pajama's, rushing over to the door between her flat and 221B, with Tyler following. They hurried into the living room to find Sherlock in the middle of hand-to-hand combat with another man dressed in a turban that covered his face, wearing a traditional battle garb of a Sikh worrier, wielding a sword at Sherlock.

Clara hurried forward and pulled the warrior back as Tyler tripped him, giving Sherlock the opportunity to punch the man, knocking him out as he collapsed into a chair behind him. Sherlock sniffed, looking at himself in the mirror above the fireplace as Clara dusted off her shorts, giving Sherlock a smile, "What would you do without us, Sherlly-temple?"

Sherlock gave her annoyed look, "I had everything under my control."

"Oh, I believe you," She said sarcastically, her voice making it clear she didn't believe him.

Sherlock glanced at her, his icy blue eyes looking her over quickly, "Did you two just wake up?"

Tyler didn't even give into his attempts, "You're changing the subject. It's okay our little damsel in distress." She patted his chest as she moved passed him to head back to her flat to get dressed for the day, Clara following. Sherlock stared after her at what she was implying before chasing after her, shouting something about women to which she simply laughed.

Tyler changed quickly into a pair of dark skinny jeans, a dark plum button up, her black trench coat, and her black ankle boots. She had her hair tied up into a neat ponytail and dusted on light makeup - just mascara and lip gloss.

Clara had changed into a light pair of skinny jeans, a black and white striped long sleeved shirt with a white jumper pulled on over top, and her tan Timbs. She had her hair brushed loose and a dark red headband on her head, yet had her bangs hang loose over her forehead. She put on thin eyeliner along with some dark lip gloss as well.

A knock at Clara's door caught both girls attention as they were getting ready in there and they turned to see Sherlock standing in the doorway, "John will be back soon." He told them.

"Coming," they called simultaneously. Clara grabbed her coat off a hanger and Tyler grabbed her Hobo bag off the bed before following him out.

Five minutes later, John returned to find Sherlock sitting his chair, reading a book while Tyler sat opposite him, reading her own book. Clara was sprawled out on the couch, checking her phone for emails. No sign of there ever being a fight. "You took your time," Sherlock remarked, not looking away from his book as Clara glanced up from her phone, noting the lack of groceries.

"Uh, I didn't get the shopping," John admitted, sighing.

"What?" Sherlock frowned, looking up from his book, "Why not?"

"Are you alright, Johnny?" Tyler asked, looking at his slightly flushed face.

"Yeah, fine," John tried to wave it off, "I had a row in the shop," Sherlock raised his eyebrows while Clara gave him a concerned look, "With the chip and pin machine."

Sherlock blinked, looking confused as Tyler started giggling, "You had a row... with a machine?" Sherlock questioned.

"Well, sort of," John muttered as Clara tried to stop herself from laughing, "It sat there and I shouted abuse. Have you got any cash?"

Tyler started reaching for her bag but John stopped her, "No, Tyler, you bought us dinner this whole week."

"I really don't mind..." Tyler tried but John shook his head.

"Sherlock?"

"Take my card," he nodded towards the kitchen table.

John walked over to the table, pulling the card out of Sherlock's wallet, "You could go yourself, you know. You've been sitting there all morning," he glanced at Sherlock, "You haven't moved since I went out. Only difference is Tyler and Clara being here. What happened about that case you were offered? The Jaria Diamond..."

Sherlock and the girls exchanged a quick glance, "Not interested," Sherlock replied, glancing down as he spotted the Sikh's sword under his chair, "We sent them a message," he kicked the blade out of sight under the chair.

John sighed as he noticed the scuff marks on the table, giving Sherlock a look before heading back out. Sherlock and the girls waited until John had closed the front door, bursting out laughing at how easy it had been to fool poor John.

Twenty minutes later, John finally arrived back at the flat, carrying bags of groceries. He walked in to the living room, saying pointedly to Sherlock, "Don't worry about me, I can manage." Clara quickly shut off her phone and grabbed a bag off John, helping him to put the rest on the kitchen table while Sherlock continued to stare at a computer screen.

"Thanks," John smiled gratefully at Clara as she began unpacking the bags.

"Don't worry about it," She shrugged, opening the fridge, pushing a plate that held a dissected arm out of the way so she could fit the milk in.

John nodded, turning around but stopped when he looked at Sherlock, "Is that my computer?"

"Of course," Sherlock replied, typing something without looking up. "Mine's in the bedroom," Sherlock shrugged.

"If yours is in your bedroom," John frowned, "Why couldn't you get your own?" he shook his head, "Its password protected!"

"In a manner of speaking," Sherlock shrugged, "Took me less than a minute to guess yours. Not exactly Fort Knox. Unlike Tyler's."

"You tried to break in to my laptop?" She turned with big eyes on the curly haired detective, he merely shrugged in response.

"Right, thank you," John sighed, closing the lid and grabbing his laptop, putting it down beside his chair while he sat. Sherlock didn't say anything, simply brought his hands together under his chin and began thinking about something. Clara cast him a curious look. John began going through a stack of overdue bills sitting on a small table beside him, sighing, "I need to get a job."

"Oh, dull," Sherlock remarked.

No one said anything after that for a moment, John leaned forward in his chair, looking at Sherlock, "Listen, um... if you'd be able to lend me some... Sherlock, are you listening?"

"I need to go to the bank," Sherlock suddenly said, standing and walking out of the flat without replying to John. Tyler sighed, pulling her coat on and following after Sherlock, John and Clara just behind her.

~*~

Sherlock, Tyler, Clara, and John made their way inside the Shad Sanderson, an investment bank. The place was filled with high-tech equipment, glass lifts, men and women all walking around in expansive suits.

"When you say we were going to the bank..." John started as they stepped on to a lift, but Sherlock merely passed him and the girls, making his way to an office, leaving the blonde to shrug in response to John's questioning look before following Sherlock.

"You learn to just go with it John," Clara patted his shoulder with a small smile before following after the two.

They made their way to an office door that read 'Sebastian Wilkes, Director of the Trading Floor'. "Sherlock Holmes!" Sebastian smiled, walking over to Sherlock when he saw him standing in the doorway, shaking his hand.

"Sebastian," Sherlock greeted, eyeing the man.

"How are you, buddy?" Sebastian smiled, "How long's it been? Eight years since I last clapped eyes on you?"

"This is my friend, John Watson," Sherlock introduced, "And these are my business partners, Clara Hudson and Tyler Jackson..."

Sebastian looked at Tyler with a smirk, "Pleasure." He took her hand gently in his and he pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. Tyler only nodded in response, not really sure how to respond to someone flirting with her. Sherlock cleared his throat, making them both look at him, Clara, and John. Sebastian shook John's hand, speaking before Sherlock could answer, "When you say friend..."

"Colleague," John quickly corrected, shacking Sebastian's hand.

Sebastian nodding, gesturing to three chairs, "Grab a pew," he walked around his desk and sat behind it as his assistant appeared in the doorway, "Need anything?" he asked them, "Coffee? Water? No?" he looked back to his assistant, "We're all sorted, here thanks."

"You're doing well," Sherlock remarked, taking a seat beside Tyler, "Spending time abroad."

"Well, some..." Sebastian shrugged.

"Flying all the way around the world," Tyler added, "Twice a month!"

Sebastian laughed, looking the blonde over with amused eyes, "Oh, you can do it too. No wonder Sherlock's friends with you," he looked at John and Clara next, "Sherlock and I were at Uni together, and this guy, had this trick he used to do..."

"It's not a trick," Sherlock and Tyler frowned.

"He could look at you and tell your whole life story," Sebastian continued, ignoring Sherlock and Tyler.

"Yes, I've seen him do it," John nodded, glancing at Sherlock.

"Put the wind up everyone. We hated him," Clara frowned at the tone his voice had taken, glancing over at Sherlock to see if the comment bothered him, if it did he didn't show it, "You'd come to breakfast in the formal hall and this freak," he nodded to Sherlock, "He would know you'd been shagging the previous night."

"I simply observed," Sherlock defended himself.

Sebastian coughed uncomfortably, shifting slightly, turning to Sherlock, "Go on. Enlighten me. 'Two trips a month, flying all round the world'. You're quite right. But how could you tell?" both Sherlock and Tyler opened their mouths but Sebastian continued, "You're going to tell me there was a stain on my tie from a special kind of ketchup you can only buy in Manhattan?"

"No, I..."

"Seems unlikely as that's a new tie," Tyler remarked quietly to John and Clara.

"Or maybe it's the mud on my shoes..." Sebastian continued but Sherlock cut in.

"I was chatting with your secretary outside. She told me."

Sebastian started laughing, clapping his hands together, "I'm glad you could make it over. We've had a break in," he stood and started leading them across the trading floor, over to a darkened office in the corner with glass at the front, explaining to them as they walked, "Sir William's office. The banks former chairmen. His room has been left here, like a sort of memorial. Someone broke in here late last night."

"What did they steal?" Clara asked.

"Nothing. They just left a little message," he flashed his card at a scanner beside the door and stepped inside, switching the lights on to show the office. There was a lamp, pens, an old leather-top desk and behind that, hanging on the wall was a painting of a man, Sir William Shad with a plague underneath giving his birth and death dates.

The message that had been left behind was yellow spray paint, lines sprayed across the portraits eyes that had dripped halfway down Sir Williams face. On the other side was another symbol, a tag of some sort, illegible scrawled.

Sherlock focused on the painting but Tyler turned to Sebastian after giving it a quick glance, "There's more, isn't there? You wouldn't have called us for something like this; you would have called the police or dealt with it yourself. What haven't you showed us yet?"

Sebastian smirked, casting a glance at Sherlock who was fighting the urge to look impressed, "I see why you like her. You're right, follow me," he led them back to his office, switching one of his computer screens on and showed them the security footage, "Sixty seconds apart," he explained, showing them footage of a clean, paint free office to another picture of the office as it was now, "So someone came up here in the middle of the night, splashed paint around and left within a minute."

"How many ways into that office?" Clara asked.

"Well, that's where this gets really interesting," Sebastian led them back down to the front desk and showed them the security plane for the building, "Every door that opens in this bank, it gets logged right here. Every walk-in cupboard. Every toilet."

"That door didn't open last night?" Clara said.

Sebastian shook his head, sighing, "There's a hole in our security. Find it and we'll pay you. Five figures," he pulled a check out of his pocket, Tyler quirked an eyebrow, not in it for the money while John's eyes widen, on the other hand, Sherlock seemed less than impressed by it, "This is only an advance. Tell me how he got in, there's a bigger one on its way."

"I don't need an incentive," Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Come along, Tyler," he grabbed the sleeve of her trench coat and pulled her back to Sir William's office. Clara shook her head and went to follow after them, but not before she heard John say that he would look after the check for Sherlock, making her laugh,

"What?" Tyler looked back at her.

"Oh, nothing," she smiled innocently.

When they reached the scene of the crime, Sherlock pulled his phone out and started taking photos of the office while Clara ducked behind the desk and started going through it only to find it empty.

"You know, these symbols are familiar," Tyler remarked, looking at the wall, "Chinese? It's hard to tell." She had learned several languages throughout her time with Jim, perks of being with an international assassin. French, Dutch, Bulgarian, Polish, Portuguese, and several different Chinese, Japanese, and Korean dialects. But, this one she didn't recognize.

"Hmm," Sherlock hummed, not really listening as he looked at the window and opened it, stepping onto the very small, private balcony without any safety rails to prevent someone from falling straight down.

"Sherlock," Tyler groaned, following after him, "I'm all for taking in the sights but there is a time and place."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Don't make jokes, Tyler, you know perfectly well what I'm doing."

"What is it?" Clara asked, peeking around the corner to see what they were doing.

"He thinks that whoever did this used the window to gain access," Tyler said, glancing down, big mistake, she jerked back, grabbing onto his sleeve tightly as she felt her face pale. "Oh, we're... we're very high." She said after a moment in a slightly strained voices.

Sherlock glanced at her and smirked, "Afraid of heights?"

"No, I'm afraid of falling from very high places and dying," Tyler corrected, closing her eyes as she began to feel light headed.

Clara came up behind Tyler and took both arms in her hands, slowly moving her hand down to unclench her hand from Sherlock's jacket, "come on, you're fine." She whispered and Tyler let her pull her back. Sherlock followed, closing the door behind him as Tyler quickly pulled out of Clara's grip, smoothing a piece of lose hair back.

Sherlock shook his head and turned back to Tyler, "Anymore fears I should know about?"

"Dolls are a bit creepy," She admitted and he looked at her in amusement. "Um, and Spiders. Little death demons I tell you."

"Mycroft's scared of spiders," Sherlock remarked, making Tyler's lips twitch in amusement.

"Mycroft Holmes is afraid of spiders?" She chuckled as Sherlock joined in.

"Terrified of them," Sherlock nodded, laughing. Clara smirked, looking between the two of them. Sherlock noticed the look and cleared his throat turning quickly on his toes and leaving.

The girls quickly followed suit as he walked out of the office and started looking around. He started dodging and weaving around the trading floor, trying to find a place that he could see the graffiti perfectly while Tyler and Clara stood off the side, taking in everything he did with an amused eyebrow raised. Clara nudged Tyler with her elbow as she pulled out her phone to record the tall detective. He moved into an office that read, 'Hong Kong Desk Head,' were the walls were all glass. The girls followed him, as he turned and was able to see the graffiti perfectly from there.

Sherlock smirked as Clara stopped recording and Sherlock moved over to the office door, taking the name plaque off the door, slipping it in his pocket.

"Oh, that was great," Clara smiled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "'The dancing detective, Sherlock Holmes!' I never would've guessed."

Sherlock rolled his eyes but couldn't stop the amused look on his face as John walked over to them, "'Two trips around the world this month,'" John mimicked Sherlock and Tyler as they went down on the lift, "You didn't ask his secretary. You said that just to irritate him," Sherlock smirked and Tyler blinked innocently, "How did you..."

"Did you look at his watch?" Sherlock asked.

"His watch?" John frowned.

"The time was right," Tyler explained, "But the date was wrong. It said two days ago."

"He crossed the date line twice but he didn't alter it," Sherlock added.

"Within the month?" Clara asked, "How did you know that?"

"New breitling," Tyler shrugged, "It only came out this February."

John nodded, understanding it a little better now, "You think we should sniff around here a bit longer?"

"Got everything I need to know already, thanks," Sherlock replied, walking out of the bank and along the street, "That graffiti is a message, John. For someone at the bank, working on the trading floor. We find the intended recipient and..."

"He'll lead us to the person who sent it," John realized.

"Obvious."

John frowned at Sherlock, "300 people up there. Who was it meant for?"

"Pillars."

"What?" Clara frowned.

"The pillars," Tyler explained, "And the screens. Very few places where you could see the graffiti. That narrows the field considerably. And of course, the message was left at 11:34 last night. That tells us a lot."

"Does it?" John questioned.

"Traders come to work at all hours. Some people trade with Hong Kong in the middle of the night. That message was intended for someone who came in at midnight," Sherlock pulled the paper name plaque out of his pocket and showed it to John and the girls, "Not many Van Coon's in the phone book," before shouting, "Taxi!"

Ten minutes later they arrived at a tall building were Edward Van Coon's flat was, Sherlock pressed the buzzer but no one answered. "So what do we do now?" John sighed, "Sit here and wait for him to come back?"

Tyler pointed above Van Coon's buzzer to another buzzer, "Just moved in. See, Johnny?"

"What?"

"The floor above, Mr Van Coon's," Tyler said, "It's a new label."

"Could have replaced it," John shrugged.

"No one does that," Clara shook her head. "I've got this one." Clara fixed her jumper, pressing the buzzer of Mrs Winyl's.

"Hello?" a women's voice asked a moment later.

"Hi." Clara began brightly, getting an amused look from John. "I live in the flat below you. I- I don't think we've met."

"No, actually I just moved in."

Tyler gave John a pointed look as Clara continued, "Actually, I just locked my keys in my flat."

"You want me to buzz you in?"

"Yeah," Sherlock nodded, "And, uh, can I use your balcony?"

"What?"

Sherlock climbed over Mrs Winyl's balcony, landing a moment later in Van Coon's terrace below. Tyler pushed herself up on the edge and clasped her eyes shut as she jumped down to the other balcony, feeling the wind blow through her hair. Sherlock raised his eyebrows as he watched her land surprisingly graceful.

"What?" She quirked an eyebrow.

Sherlock shrugged and opened the glass door, leading into the flat. They walked around the living room, taking in everything as Sherlock moved into the kitchen, opening the fridge to show dozens of champagne bottles stacked on top of one another. Tyler shook her head with a faint smile on her face as John and Clara began knocking on the door.

"Sherlock? Tyler? Are you okay? Any time you feel like letting us in?"

Tyler glanced at Sherlock who tried to open a door but found it locked. He stepped back and using his shoulder, forced the door open, walking in and stopping at the sight of a man, lying on his back, shot in the head. "Brilliant," Tyler sighed.

~*~

"Do you think he lost a lot of money?" John asked, glancing at Sherlock and Tyler as they watched the police take photographs of the body, "Suicide rate is pretty high among these city types."

"We don't know that it was suicide," Sherlock said, pulling a pair of rubber gloves on.

"Come on! His door locked from the inside. You had to climb across the balcony..."

Sherlock didn't answer, spotting a suitcase sitting on the floor and began going through it while Tyler watched over his shoulder, "Been away. Three days, judging by the laundry. Look, something was packed tightly inside this case."

"Oh, yeah," Tyler nodded, "I see what you mean".

"Thanks," Clara nodded, looking unhappy, "I'll take your word for it."

Sherlock raised his eyebrows at her, "Problem?"

"I'm not desperate to root around some bloke's dirty underwear."

"I'm sure you've been through worse," Tyler smiled slightly, adding, "Dr Hudson."

Sherlock ignored them, turning back to the body, "Those symbols at the bank, that graffiti. Why was it put there?"

John sighed, "You think it was some sort of code?"

"Obviously," Sherlock replied, going through Van Coon's pockets, "But I'm saying why paint it? If you want to communicate, why not use email?"

John paused for a moment, thinking it over, "Well, maybe he wasn't answering?"

"Oh good," Sherlock remarked, smirking slightly, "You two follow."

John shook his head, glancing at Clars, "Um, nope."

"Just nod and smile, John," Clara advised, serious.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, leaning over to examine the man's hand, "What sort of message would everyone try to avoid?" John opened his mouth before shaking his head.

"Think about it, Johnny," Tyler said softly, walking around him to look closer at Van Coons face, "Something that can make people do drastic things, something that can make people want to disappear," John shook his head, still looking confused as she looked at Sherlock, "Sherlock, have a look inside his mouth, I think I can see something."

Sherlock did as she asked, pulling a small ball of black paper, shaped like a flower, still slightly moist, "He was being threatened," Clara's face cleared as she realized what Tyler had been trying to tell John. Sherlock grabbed a plastic evidence bag and slipped the paper inside.

They glanced up as they heard voices approaching as a man in his early thirties walk in, looking around, frowning as he spotted Sherlock, John, and the girls. "Ah, Sergeant," Sherlock straightened and held out his hand as he walked over to the new man, "We haven't met."

"Yeah, I know who you are," the man glared at Sherlock, ignoring his outstretched hand, shooting Tyler a slightly cold look, making her blink in surprise, "Both of you. And I'd prefer it if you didn't tamper with any of the evidence."

Sherlock raised his eyebrows, handing the man the evidence bag, "I phoned Lestrade. Is he on his way...?"

"He's busy," the man informed them, "I'm in charge. And it's not Sergeant, it's Detective Inspector," Clara glanced at John, both looking slightly surprised, "Dimmock," Sherlock stared at him, glancing at the girls and John before following after Dimmock as he walked into the living room, "We're obviously looking at a suicide."

"It does seem the only explanation of the facts," John agreed, Tyler shook her head, disagreeing but not voicing it.

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

Dimmock looked at him, raising his eyebrows, "Like?"

"The wound on the side of his head," Tyler said, moving forward.

"And?" Dimmock asked, frowning.

"Van Coon was left-handed," She continued, demonstrating shooting herself in her right temple with her left hand, "Requires a bit of contortion."

Dimmock blinked, looking taken back, "Left-handed?"

"I'm amazed you didn't notice," Sherlock rolled his eyes, "All you have to do is look around this flat..." he gestured around the room as he continued to explain, "...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..." he looked at Dimmock, "Want me to go on?"

"Uh, no," John quickly said, "I think you've covered it".

"I might as well," Sherlock shrugged, smirking, "There's only one..."

Clara groaned and covered his mouth, "Basically, Van Coon couldn't have killed himself because he was indeed left handed. It's very unlikely that a left-handed man could shoot himself on the right side of his head. Conclusion... someone broke in and murdered him and Sherlock don't look at me like that."

"But, the gun..." Dimmock began, shaking his head, Clara quickly moved her hand and backed away, noticing the dangerous look in Sherlock's eye.

Sherlock continued to glare at Clara as Tyler spoke, "He was waiting for the killer. He'd been threatened."

"What?"

Sherlock walked away, pulling his coat and scarf back on. "Today at the bank," John spoke up, "A sort of warning."

"He fired when the attacker came in," Clara told him.

"And the bullet..."

"Went out the window," Sherlock said simply.

"Oh, come on!" Dimmock laughed, shaking his head, "What are the chances of that?"

Sherlock started putting his gloves on, "Wait for the pathologist's report. The bullet in his brain wasn't fired from his gun, I guarantee it."

"But if his door was locked from the inside... how did the killer get in?"

"Good," Sherlock nodded, "You're finally asking the right questions," and with that, he turned and swept out of the room, grabbing Tyler's arm and pulling her along with him, leaving John and Clara to hurry after them.

After they left Van Coons flat, they got a cab and went to a high class restaurant, walking inside to find Sebastian sitting at a table with some of his work colleagues, in the middle of telling a joke as they approached him. "It was a threat," Sherlock told them, getting straight to the point, "That's what the graffiti meant."

"I'm kind of in a meeting," Sebastian said, giving Sherlock an odd look, "Can you make an appointment with my secretary?"

"No," Tyler crossed her arms, "This is far more important than your... 'meeting', I believe you called it. We just came from a crime scene were one of your traders was the victim. He was found dead by myself and Sherlock here this morning."

"What?" Sebastian's eyes winded.

"Van Coon," John clarified, "The police are in his flat."

"Killed?" Sebastian blinked, looking extremely surprised.

"Sorry to interfere with everyone's digestion," Sherlock remarked, not sorry at all, "Still want us to make an appointment?" he slowly smirked, "Would maybe nine o'clock at Scotland Yard suit?"

Sebastian shifted in his chair before throwing his napkin down, quickly apologizing to everyone as he stood and gestured for Sherlock and John to follow him into the bathroom, leaving Tyler and Clara to wait outside.

"This is ridiculous," Clara muttered to herself. "Why'd they had to have their meeting in a bathroom of all places."

Tyler simply leaned as casually as she could against the wall, ignoring the strange looks people were sending her as they passed when her phone started ringing. She looked down and groaned to see Mycroft's name flashing on the screen. "No, I'm not giving you any information on your brother." She answered without even so much as a greeting, getting a strange look from Clara.

"Mycroft?" She frowned at the random call.

"Hello to you too," He greeted. "I was actually calling to ask whether you intended to spend the rest of your afternoon standing outside the men's room," Mycroft replied, sounding slightly amused, "Surly it would be less embarrassing for you to simply sit at a table?"

"How..." Tyler frowned, trailing off as her eyes court sight of none other than Mycroft Holmes sitting at a table in the far corner of the room, "What on Earth are you doing here?" Clara followed her gaze to the older Holmes.

"Eating my lunch," Mycroft replied before flicking his phone shut and gesturing for her to join him.

"Wait here," Tyler said to Clara as she headed toward the older Holmes.

"As if." Clara scoffed, following her blonde friend.

Tyler sighed, taking the remaining seat, eyeing his food, "I thought you were on a diet?" She smirked, taking a fork and scooping off a piece of his cake for herself. Clara had come up from behind her then and stood beside the blonde with her arms crossed.

"One is allowed some treats," Mycroft said a little stiffly, Tyler raised her eyebrows, smiling slightly around the fork, "May I ask what you and my brother are doing here? Along with Dr Watson and Dr. Hudson?"

"Were on a case," Clara shrugged, casting a glance toward the men's bathroom door to see if they had emerged, "An old acquaintance of Sherlock hired us."

"Yes, of course," he nodded, lifting his glass of wine before pausing, smiling faintly, "Forgive my manners, would you care for some?" He offered the blonde across from him, and Clara pouted. She would've declined, she wasn't much of a drinker, but it would've been polite to offer the both of them.

"I don't drink while I'm working," Tyler shook her head, "But, thank you. Shouldn't you be out starting a war or something, not sitting here chatting me up, Mycroft?"

Mycroft sighed, taking a sip of his wine before placing it back on the table, "You've been spending too much time around my brother. I do have a life outside of my work."

"And I'm sure it's very thrilling," Tyler smirked, glancing up to see Sebastian leaving the bathroom.

"Well, that's our cue. Come on," Clara nodded to her best friend as she started for the bathroom.

Tyler went to go follow, but paused to look back at Mycroft. "See you around, Mycroft."

"Good day to you, Miss. Jackson," Mycroft nodded.

"I told you to call me Tyler," She called to him as she quickly hurried back towards the bathroom and caught up with Clara just as Sherlock and John came out.

"So, what did he say?" Clara asked casually as they began walking out side.

"Van Coon worked with the Hong Kong accounts," Sherlock told the girls as John got them a taxi and they got in the back, "He also worked in Asia for a while. He went to Oxford and according to Sebastian, he was clever..."

Tyler gave him a sideways look while Sherlock stared outside his window, "So, Van Coon worked in Asia," she looked thoughtful for a moment, "Is it possible that he got mixed up in something over there? Drug smuggling? Maybe even people smuggling? It wouldn't be a first time."

"Possibly..." Sherlock replied, not really listening to anything she said as he stared outside, deep in thought. Sighing, Tyler turned to Clara and John who were discussing John's plans to look for a job the next day while Sherlock continued to think.