Did you miss me?

A brief update (sorry) to celebrate the fact that this story has nearly reached 200 reviews! YAAAAAAAAAAY!

A big thank you to everyone who has followed/favorited. But an even bigger thank you to: wireless-bird, Gwilwillith, bored411, 88dragon06, shadowboxing, Kam74, MaidMarian17, Domino2, loveinfinity, Slyork1991, , Skylar Winchester for reviewing the last chapter. It really does mean a lot. If I have missed you, I am sorry.

Apologies for any spelling/punctuation mistakes I have probably made and failed to correct. I don't own. Only Emily.

Trafalgar Square was practically packed.

If it wasn't the people Emily was dodging, it was the pigeons. But she couldn't really blame the tourists for being there. It was after all, a beautiful day. Fresh, yes, but still beautiful.

"The world's run on codes and ciphers, John." Sherlock turned to look at Emily as she finally caught up with them and took her place between them. "From the million-pound security system at the bank, to the PIN machine you took exception to, cryptography inhabits our every waking moment."

"Yes, okay, but..."

"...but it's all computer-generated: electronic codes, electronic ciphering methods. This is different. It's an ancient device. Modern code-breaking methods won't unravel it."

"Where are we going?" Emily interrupted, she was quickly losing breath trying to keep pace with her flatmates.

"I need to ask some advice." Emily paused in slight shock on the stairs.

"What?! Sorry?!" John questioned.

"Say it again, I can film it." Emily felt around for her phone.

"Do keep up Emily. John, You heard me perfectly. I'm not saying it again." Emily ran up the rest of the stairs and shared a smile of disbelief with John.

"You need advice?"

"On painting, yes. I need to talk to an expert." The Consulting Detective spoke no more as he continued to lead his flat mates towards the entrance of the National Gallery. Only to take them around it to the rear of the building.

If it wasn't for the man shaking the cans of spray paint, the place would be silent. Not to mention deserted.

As Sherlock sped up slightly Emily slowed down and stayed next to John.

"A graffiti artist is an expert?" She whispered to him, more out of curiosity than anything, but she only received a smirk. "You learn something new every day." She mumbled to herself, but managed to cause John's smirk to turn into a full blown smile.

"Part of a new exhibition." The young man spoke, completely relaxed and unperturbed by the presence of the three newcomers.

But the newly created artwork, a Policeman with a rifle and a pig's snout instead of a human nose, was far from the interest of Sherlock Holmes.

"Interesting." Emily rolled her eyes at Sherlock's tone.

"I call it Urban Bloodlust Frenzy." His chuckle made Emily smile.

"I can see that catching on." Emily hadn't meant to speak her thoughts, but they had just slipped out. But wether she actually meant them, or wether she was being sarcastic was beyond her. She did however, manage to move the young man's attention away from the door in front of him onto her. A small but earnest smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he looked at her.

"Who might you be?" Sherlock paused in retrieving his phone, and instead watched as Raz took a step towards Emily.

"Emily Cooper." She introduced herself, she was unsure wether or not she should offer her hand for him to shake and apparently he was thinking along the same lines.

"I would shake your hand but I wouldn't want to get yours dirty. I'm Raz." His smile was getting bigger, as was hers.

"Raz? Is that your real name?"

"Well." He took another step closer to her, his smile had turned into a suggestive smirk. "It's what the ladies like to scream as they-"

"Miss Cooper doesn't need to know of your bedroom habits Raz." Sherlock interrupted him, turning the focus onto him and away from Emily.

"I don't think anyone does." John murmured to himself.

Raz shot Emily a wink as he turned back to his artwork on to door.

"I've got two minutes before a Community Support Officer comes round that corner." He sounded a little bored now as he got back to spraying. "Can we do this while I'm workin'?"

Sherlock held out his phone to Raz, who, without question turned and tossed one of his spray cans at John. Instinctively he caught it, but not without a look of bewilderment covering his features as he looked between the two men before him. Emily took the moment to really look at he graffiti on the door. It wasn't really her style. But then, she never really had been interested in art. Or graffiti, so nothing really was when it came to this sort of thing.

"Know the author?" Sherlock questioned.

"Recognise the paint. It's like Michigan; hardcore propellant. I'd say zinc." Emily noticed, for the first time since their arrival, the bag on the floor by Raz's feet. Filled with spray cans. She would make sure to look out for more of his work when she got the chance.

"What about the symbols: d'you recognise them?"

"Not even sure it's a proper language."

"Two men have been murdered, Raz. Deciphering this is the key to finding out who killed them."

"What, and this is all you've got to go on? It's hardly much, now, is it?" Emily tilted her head to the side. The guy sort of had a point.

"Are you gonna help us or not?" Raz turned his gaze back to the blonde on his left. She raised an eyebrow in question at him. Though wether it was wondering why he was looking at her or wether he was going to help or not, he wasn't sure.

He turned back to Sherlock before answering. "I'll ask around."

"Somebody must know something about it." His tone hinted a sense of urgency. Though wether or not he was going to say anymore on the matter, no one would ever find out.

"Oi!" A voice from behind them shouted. As one, the four looked round. Two Community Support Officers were hurrying towards them.

At the sight of them, Sherlock, with one hand grabbed his phone from the boy beside him and with his other reached across and took Emily's securely in his own before running off in the opposite direction.

Raz dropped his spray can, kicked the bag towards John and scarpered.

Emily had no breath to make a sound of protest as Sherlock made her run away from the scene and therefore John. The Blithering idiot. He had meekly turned towards the officers. But Emily didn't get to see much more as Sherlock dragged her around a corner, John disappearing from sight.

After a few more minutes of running that felt like hours to an exhausted Emily, the pair stopped. But Sherlock didn't let go of her hand as he hailed a taxi.

"Baker Street." Sherlock demanded as he got comfortable, finally releasing his hold on the smaller hand.

"Bak-you mean we're not going back for John?" Emily could not keep her accusatory tone quiet.

"Why would we go back for John?" Sherlock sounded surprised as he studied the pictures on his phone again. His tone, seemed annoyed. Though why Emily couldn't figure out.

"Oh, I don't know because he's our friend?" But Sherlock did not look away from the screen in front of him. "Are you listening to me?" Again, she received no reply. Instead of trying again however, she simply grabbed hold of the device and snatched it from his possession.

"It's rude to snatch." Sherlock simply informed her. She couldn't help but let out a brief and snappy laugh. As if the man beside her would understand the difference between rude and polite.

"It's rude to leave your friends behind at a crime scene." She retorted.

"That was hardly a crime scene." Sherlock tried reaching for his phone but Emily tucked it into the right front pocket of her jeans- the pocket furthest from him.

"But you still left him."

"You left him too."

"BECASUE YOU DRAGGED ME ALONG WITH YOU!" She shouted.

"You're saying you would have stayed. Like an idiot?"

"Yes. Because that's what friends do." She had no idea what she had done to make Sherlock sound so mad at her.

"I've just saved you from an ASBO."

"Well don't expect a thank you." Emily faced the front and crossed her arms.

"Give me my phone." Sherlock demanded.

"No."

"Please." He practically spat the word through gritted teeth.

"Why should I?" Emily sounded bored and now pretended to examine her nails.

"I'm dealing with a child." Sherlock all but threw his arms into the air in annoyance. His words caused Emily to turn her head sharply and send him a glare.

"Oh good. Now you know how we all feel." By now, the taxi had pulled up outside 221B, and Emily was more than thankful of this. Even before the vehicle stopped she had stepped out and was already marching towards the front door.

The driver looked up at Sherlock with a smirk as he retrieved the fair from his wallet. "That wife of yours must be great in the sack." But without waiting for a reply, and not even bothering to count out the money, he drove off. Leaving a confused Sherlock standing alone and watching as the car vanished round the corner. He tucked his hands into his pockets and turned to enter. Emily had left the door wide open for him. No doubt Mrs Hudson would be complaining of the heat getting out if he didn't enter quickly.

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