Disclaimer: I do not own BBC's Sherlock or Doctor Who (despite how much I wished I did) and any of the respective plots and characters for each. However, I do own Maryanne Rose Williams, so please don't steal her.

By the time the 28th had rolled around, Annie could say she was adjusted to her new life in 221C Baker Street. Though, she couldn't quite say she favoured it. After travelling with the Doctor for so long, she had unfortunately developed a thirst for danger. And quite frankly, she missed it. Maybe that was why she found herself spending a little more of her free time than one would deem necessary, in Sherlock and Johns flat.

At the moment though, she was sitting in her own flat, a history book and pen in hand. When she wasn't with the Consulting Detective or war veteran, she would be curled up on her couch, a book in hand. Her habit of correcting history books seemed to have gotten a tad bit out of hand. No longer did she just yell at the books, but now she was actually crossing parts out and writing different accounts beside the things she crossed out!

She had been in the process of changing something that had involved Winston Churchill, who she had met on one occasion, when she was able to hear the faint sounds of crashing above her. At first, she though it was Mrs. Hudson, but immediately rethought that. The older woman wasn't the one to move things around, and even if she did, she was too frail to do so on her own. Most likely, she would have had John help her out.

And he was out shopping. Actually, She thought to her self. He should be back soon. That only left one more, logical, choice. "Sherlock." Sighing, she set her book down and pulled on her trainers. This was sure to be good. Quickly grabbing a jumper to throw on over her tank top, she quickly locked the door to her flat and made her way up the stairs to the two men's flat.

Like usual, the door was open to reveal the front room. However, unlike usual there was a interestingly dressed man fighting Sherlock. Or, at least trying. As Annie walked through the flat door, she witnessed Sherlock punch the attacker in the head. The now unconscious man fell backwards, and landed in Sherlock's chair.

Having dealt with the assailant now, the curly haired man quickly fixed his blazer and turned around to see his neighbour. On her face, was a rather smug look. He hadn't even realized she was there while he was dealing with the man.

"Well, that was interesting." She smirked. Crossing into the flat and standing beside him. He simply rolled his eyes and turned with her to stare at the unconscious man.

"How long were you watching?"

"Long enough." Was all she said, before glancing at the clock and letting out a sigh. "You do know John will be back shortly, don't you?"

"I know." Sherlock mumbled, sounding rather like a young child. Now it was the brunette's turn to roll her eyes. Crouching down, she slipped and arm around the man's back and proceeded to drag him towards the bathroom. Sherlock just stared as she did so.

"Well, you don't want him to see this, do you?" The detective stood there for a moment, thinking before walking over and helping her. Together, they had the assailant gagged, hands and feet tied together and in the bathtub.

"Diamond case?" She finally questioned, walking into the kitchen to make her and Sherlock a cuppa, while he sat down in his now empty chair. Picking up a book, he started to read from where he had left off of.

Just as the kettle started to whistle, John walked up the stairs, looking rather frustrated too. Looking up over the edge of his book, Sherlock raised an eye brow at him.

"You took your time." His voice was monotone, like usual.

"Yeah," The shorter man sighed. "I didn't get the shopping."

"What?" Annie asked, looking out from the kitchen to give her own raised eye brow look at the man. "Why?"

Great. John thought to himself. Just what I need. Two of the them. Now, don't get him wrong. He was rather fond of Annie, and enjoyed her company. But sometimes it was like talking to another version of Sherlock. Granted a female, more capable of emotions version, but still.

"Because I had a row, in the shop, with a chip and pin machine." He admitted, becoming slightly more frustrated by the minute.

"You, you had a row," Sherlock looked at him, slightly confused. "With a machine?" How in the world was that suppose to be possible?

"Sort of." John sigh. "It sat there while I shouted abuse." Glancing over, both Annie and Sherlock shared a look, smirking. Thankfully, it went unnoticed by their friend. "Do you have cash?"

"Take my card." The taller man gestured with his head to the card on the kitchen table, which for once wasn't covered in some experiment. Grabbing it, John noticed a little scratch mark, but decided best not to question it. Though, he did ripe on his flatmate about something else.

"You know, you could go and do it yourself." He pointed out. "All you've been doing since I left is sit there. You haven't moved since I left."

"Actually, he can't." Annie said matter-of-factually as she walked into the front room, handing the detective his tea. "He's going to be entertaining me, like a good host does." Normally Sherlock would object to such terms, but in reality he really did not want to do the shopping. Annie, was giving him the perfect reason not to.

Sighing, John shook his head at the two of them. Though he knew that what she said was just an excuse -Sherlock, actually acting like a host? Ha!- but he also knew it was better to just let them go along with it.

"What happened about that case you were offered?" He asked. "The one about the Jared Diamond?"

"Not interested." Was all Sherlock said while taking a sip of his tea. Glancing down, he saw the assailant's sword was still in view, so he quickly pushed it under his chair. "I sent them a message."

From her spot on the couch, Annie smirked. I don't think they really liked it though. She thought to herself. Sighing, John shook his head as he left.

"Annie, don't let him doing anything... You know... While I'm out." He shot over his shoulder. Only when he got an 'I won't', did he close the door.

"What did he mean about you stopping me?" Sherlock questioned, a semi-offended look on his face. Annie simply shrugged, taking a sip of her tea.

"Not entirely sure. If anything, I'd be doing what ever it is I'm suppose to stop you from doing." Both of them smirked at that. Fifteen minutes passed, neither one talking, till Annie found herself getting bored.

"I'm going to get one of my books." Setting her tea down, she got up to head to her own flat when Sherlock stopped her.

"Can you get my computer?" Turning, she raised an eye brow at the request.

"Where is it?"

"My room." He stated simply.

"Then you get it." She gave him an annoyed look. "Or use John's if you're to lazy to." She was about to walk out of the flat when the Consulting Detective made a very sad attempt at complaining.

"But its password protected." That caused her to fully turn and laugh at him.

"Sherlock." She shook her head, rolling her eyes. "You must remember, you can't play that card with me." There was a smirk on her lips. "I know you'll be able to guess it in a matter of seconds." Before he could object, she was walking down the stairs, shout an "It's not Fort Knox." over her shoulder as she did.

When John got home, he was carrying multiple bags in his arms.

"Don't worry about me, I can manage." He grumbled when neither of the sociopaths in the flat decided to move. At least Annie had the decency to look up from the book she was writing in. As the veteran set down the grocery bags, he noticed something. Sherlock was on a computer. His computer!

"Is that my computer?" He questioned.

"Of course it is." Annie answered, crossing a couple lines out in the history book and replacing them.

"What?" He turned to her, a confused and frustrated look on his face.

"His was in the bedroom." She shrugged, adding a little doodle by the new lines.

"And Maryanne wouldn't go get it for me." Looking up, Sherlock shot the brunette a glare, which she returned with a playful smirk.

"It's password protected!" John stated, glaring at his flat mate.

"In a matter of speaking." The curly haired man said, turning his attention back to what ever he was doing. "It took me less than a minute to guess it." Looking at John, he had a slightly smug look on his face. "Not exactly Fort Knox."

"Alright," The shorter man sighed, reaching over for his computer. "Thank you." Picking it up, he went over to his chair and put it beside him. This left a very frustrated looking Sherlock.

From her seat, Annie smiled softly. The two of them reminded her of Rory and the Doctor. As soon as the thought popped into her mind though, she frowned. No. Get back in your house. She scolded the thoughts. I don't want to see you right now.

While the woman was in her thoughts, John had picked up some mail he had left out. What he saw, made him wince. There were quite a lot of bills. Unpaid bills, that he needed to attend to. That meant, he needed money.

"I need a job." He mumbled.

"No." Annie said, putting her book down. She had a feeling she wouldn't be able to get much more done with it.

"Dull." Sherlock said, threading his hands together as he finished her thoughts.

Sighing softly, John glanced back at the bills. It didn't matter if a job was dull. They needed the money so they could pay the bills. And Mrs. Hudson.

"Listen," He started, leaning forward, he glanced between the other two people in his flat. "If either of you could lend me some..." He trailed off when he noticed neither of them were listening. Sherlock was staring off into space, and Annie, having seen the look, had picked up their now empty tea cups and carried them to the kitchen. "Sherlock, Annie? Are either of you listening?"

"No." The woman said, putting the cups in the sink.

"I need to go to the bank." Sherlock said abruptly, standing up. As he grabbed his coat, he shot Annie a look. "Coming?" For a moment, she stood there, silently contemplating it before raising an eye brow at him.

"You tell me?" Smirking, Sherlock nodded and continued down the stairs.

"We'll wait for you."

The ride to the bank was rather uneventful. Annie sat between Sherlock and John, though none of them talked. The Consulting Detective was to focused on what ever he had to do at the bank, Annie was lost in her thoughts and John had no real desire to disturb them.

When they got to the bank, though, he couldn't help but feel a little in awe. There were people milling about, going up escalators, running to till. They were everywhere. And everyone looked rather rich too.

"When you said we were going to the bank..." He trailed off, hoping either of the sociopaths in front of him would answer. When they didn't, he sighed and just followed them. Sherlock in the lead of course.

As they road up the escalator, both her and Annie were casually looking around, gaining any information that they could from their surroundings. Times in different areas. Security systems. All of it could prove useful at some point or another.

Stepping off the transportation, they all made their way over to the receptionist.

"Sherlock Holmes." Was all he said. Soon enough, a rather well dressed man with neat hair was making their way over to the office the three were showed too.

"Sherlock Holmes." He smiled, though it seemed rather fact Annie noted.

"Sebastian." Said man greeted, shaking his hand.

"How are you buddy?" Sebastian questioned. "How long has it been? Eight years since I last kept tabs on you." He then noticed the two others with the curly haired man.

"These are my friends." Sherlock said, looking like we was struggling to be civil. Then again, I doubt he hasn't had to be a social as I have. Annie thought to herself. "John Watson, and Maryanne Williams."

"Friends?" Sebastian asked, raising an eyebrow. He also subtly looked Annie up and down.

"Colleagues." John corrected firmly, remembering how Sherlock had first introduced him to Donovan. After shaking hands with Sebastian, they all took their seats. Like in the cab, Annie was in a seat between Sherlock and John.

"Do you need anything?" The banker questioned. "Coffee, water?" The three declined, wanting to get straight to business. Sebastian sent his PA off, seeing no need for her at the moment.

"So, you're doing well." Sherlock started. "You've been abroad a lot."

"Well, some." The well dressed man admitted, attempting to act humble.

"Flying twice around the world." The Consulting Detective continued. "Twice in one month." While John seemed a little unimpressed that his flatmate was doing this now, Annie smirked ever so slightly. To her, this was amusing.

"Right." Sebastian laughed dryly before pointing at Sherlock. "You're doing that thing." He glanced at John and Annie. "We were at Uni together. This guy here had a trick he used to do."

Oh, believe me. It's anything but a trick. Annie thought smugly to herself.

"It's not a trick." Sherlock mumbled, voice her thoughts aloud.

"He'd take one look at you, and tell your whole life story." Sebastian continued.

"Yes." John nodded, shooting both people beside him a look. "I've seen him do it."

"Quite impressive actually." Annie added. Sebastian looked at her with an eyebrow raised, before going on.

"Well because of it, everybody hated it." He put bluntly. "Come down to breakfast in the formal hall and this freak would know who you'd been shagging the previous night." While Sherlock looked down slightly at the word freak, Annie flinched a little. She had many memories, being called that very thing as a child.

"I simply observed." He mumbled, defending himself, giving Annie a sideways glance. He had seen her flinch, and found it curious.

"Well, go on then." Sebastian insisted. "Two trips a month, flying all around the world. Quite right." He admitted. "How could you tell?" Before the curly haired man could open his mouth, he was cut off. "You going to tell me there was a stain on my tie from special kind of ketchup you can only buy in Manhattan?" John smirked slightly, finding the teasing a little funny. "Or is it the mud on my shoes?"

"Actually," Annie cleared her throat, smiling coyly. "We were just chatting with your secretary outside."

"She told us." Sherlock added. Both sociopaths found great amusement from the look the formed on Sebastian's face at their words. Though, it left when he began to laugh. I do not like this man. Both thought as he continued to laugh.

"I'm glad you could make it over." He said, finally getting down to business. "We've had a break in."

"Mr. Williams' office. The banks former chairman." He explained as they walked through the trading floor. "The rooms been left her as a sort of memorial." Annie side stepped, dodging a couple of the bank's employees who almost ran into her. "Some one, broke in, late last night."

"What did they steal?" John asked. A break in seemed a little minor for Sherlock to be investigating.

"Nothing." Sebastian said, peaking Annie's interest. "Just left a little message." As they walked about, both she and Sherlock took note of more security measures.

When they got to the offices, they were meet with the sight of a graffiti-ed room. Though, it was not like any graffiti they had seen before. The yellow paint showed a pair of strange symbols in a language other than English.

Chinese. Annie thought immediately. She and Sherlock stood where they were for a moment. One set of symbols was on the wall, while the other on a picture of Mr. Williams. Once they had gotten a long enough look, Sebastian showed them a security video.

"Sixty seconds apart." He said, pressing a button on the keyboard. First showed the office as it was now, the next -sixty second before- showed the room clean of any paint. Now that's interesting. Annie cocked an eye brow. "So, some one came up here in the middle of the night, splashed a little paint around and left within a minute."

"How many ways to get into that office?" Sherlock asked.

"Now that's where it gets interesting." The banker said, leading the group back to the reception. While he did, Sherlock fell in step with Annie, letting John and Sebastian walk ahead of him.

"Enjoying yourself?" He questioned, raising an eye brow and giving her a slight smirk. Not many would think she was having fun with this, but the Consulting Detective had noticed a slight twinkle in her eyes. One that wasn't there before.

"Oh, maybe just a little." Looking up at him, she returned the smirk. "But you seem to be as well."

"Come on!" Sebastian called, looking back when he saw the two whispering to each other. Nodding, they caught up to the two men. "Ever door that enters into this bank, gets locked right here." He explained once they all were looking at a layout of the trading floor. "Every walk in cupboard, every toilet."

"But that door didn't open last night." Annie pointed out. There was no record of it opening the night before.

"There's a hole in our security." Sebastian admitted, doing up his suit jacket. "Find it, and we'll pay you." He said, turning to Sherlock. "Five figures." He then proceeded to pull a cheque from his pocket. "This is an advance. Tell me how he got in, and there's a bigger one on its way." He tried to hand it to his former classmate, but the man declined.

"I don't need an incentive, Sebastian." He gave the other man a pointed look before wrapping an arm around Annie's shoulders and directing her back towards the trading floor.

"And what, exactly, do you think you're doing?" She questioned, shrugging off his arm but keeping time with his steps.

"I want your opinion." He stated plainly. "So you're coming with me." That caused her to raise an eye brow as the entered Mr. Williams' office.

"I thought that was what John was for?" There was a small smirk on her lips, and it effectively irritated Sherlock.

"Yes," He admitted, taking out his phone and holding it up to the symbols on the wall. "But I never classed the two of you on the same intellectual level." The brown haired woman smile slightly at the indirect compliment. However, instead of commenting on it, she began to look around the room. As she did, she ran through facts in her head.

So, the person who broke in didn't get in through the door. That meant there was a different way in. Turning to the window, she cocked her head to the side slightly. Maybe. Walking over, she pulled the blinds up, catching Sherlock's attention.

"What are you doing?" He asked, walking over beside her.

"Just taking a look." She answered, opening the glass door before stepping back. "Or, would you like to do it." He stood there for a moment, but then stepped out side, having realized the same thing she had. Shifting to the side, he let her come out as well.

The two looked both across from where they were to another building, then down to the ground. Needless to say, they were quite a ways up. It would take great skill to climb up that high. Stepping back inside, the to proceeded to walk back onto the trading floor.

While Sherlock ducked by different cubicles and areas, looking back towards the office, Annie leaned against a wall. She knew what he was doing, but chose not to help him. After all, she had travelled with the Doctor and quite frankly, she was done with acting ridiculous around others.

When the Consulting Detective found the right side office, she walked over an looked at the name on the door.

"Edward Van Coon." She read, pulling the paper out. Not the most common of names. "So. Are we going to go find John?"

"Of course." He nodded. The two walked to the reception, grabbing John, before making their way out of the bank. As they did, the veteran gave the two sociopaths a look.

"Two trips around the world this month?" He questioned. "Neither of you asked his secretary. You said that just to annoy him." The two others shared a look, smirking. John was quite right. "How did you know?" He finally asked.

"Did you see his watch?" Sherlock asked.

"His watch?"

"The time was right, but the date was wrong." Annie explained, readjusting her coat. "It was set to two days ago. So he crossed the date twice, but he didn't alter it.

"With in a month." John pointed out. "How did you get that?"

"New Breitling watch." She said, letting Sherlock continue.

"Only came out this February." He finished.

Some days, I can not believe these two. John thought to himself. They way they bounced deductions between one another, he could have sworn they shared a mind.

"So do we sniff around here a little longer?" He asked, completely oblivious to what his friends had been doing earlier.

"We've got everything we need to know." Sherlock informed him.

"Thanks." Annie added.

"The graffiti was a message." He continued. "It was meant for some one at the bank. On the trading floors." He explained. "We find the intended recipient and..." Trailing off, he waiting for his flatmate to figure it out.

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

"Obvious." He said after. That brought another question to John's mind.

"Well there's three hundred people up there." He pointed out. "Who's it meant for."

"Pillars." Annie said almost immediately.

"What?"

"The pillars and the screens limit the places you can see the graffiti from." Sherlock explained. "That narrows the field considerably."

"Then there's the fact the message was left at eleven thirty four last night." Annie took over, the three of them making their way to the bank doors. "That lets us know quite a lot."

"Does it?" John asked.

"Traders come to work at all hours." Sherlock said. "Some trade with Hong Kong in the middle of the night. The message was intended for some one who came in at midnight." They walked out onto the street, Sherlock and Annie beside each other with John trailing behind them.

"Not many Van Coons in the phone book." Annie said, unfolding the paper she had taken from the bank. "Are there?" She handed it to John, smirking.

"Taxi!" Sherlock called, giving her a small smirk as well.