Author's Note: Hello all! I believe in this chapter we shall start delving into the blind banker. I have read a quite a lot of other Sherlock fan-fictions and hope to bring something new to the table with this story. I have most of it outlined right now. Please do review and let me know how you are liking this story, it really would mean the world to me. As everyone else says, I do not own Sherlock. Enjoy!

[Adelaide]

After Sherlock had all but run away to his flat, Adelaide couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as she stared at the closed door of 221b. She had begun to process in her mind everything she had done wrong and if there was any way to fix it, when she felt a firm but kind grip on her shoulder. The touch helped her ground herself and come out of her worriment.

Not having to look over due to the smell of his familiar cologne, she had noted that Mycroft had entered the home (having been on the phone with the movers, directing them on how to organize her flat once they arrived). After a sigh and a brief squeeze on her shoulder, she felt his hand pull away and he started to march up the stairs to Sherlock, obviously going to demand that he come out.

Suddenly Adelaide felt at text from her phone in her pocket. Pulling it out to look at it she smiled, having a solution as to coax the stubborn man from his hiding place. She quickly typed a message back, shoved the phone in her pocket, then looked to who she assumed would have been doctor John Watson, and smiled cheerfully at his rather confused expression.

There had been some quiet chatter at the top of the staircase before Mycroft obviously became tired of putting up with his brothers antics.

"Would you stop acting like a petulant child and open the door?!"

"Resorting to uncreative insults this early Mycroft? My, your diet must be going horribly. Troubles with the queen?" an even toned Sherlock mused through the door.

Adelaide could practically feel Mycroft roll his eyes as he lifted his suit sleeve to look at the time.

"Sherlock, unlike you I do have important business to attend to and do not have time to waste on your silly little games-"

" Mycroft." Adelaide started, looking down at the new text she had received, " I don't really have time to meet with him anyways." She looked up at the older Holmes brother with a slight smirk. The study of minds had given her an amazing, yet dangerous advantage when she wanted something. Adelaide knew just how to manipulate a person to get what she needed. She knew Mycroft had understood this, and while she could tell it sometimes frightened him, it also intrigued him.

With a slight nod he let her know that he was going to play along with the psychologist, Mycroft responded, leaning on his trusted umbrella and quirking an eyebrow, "Oh? What is so pressing that you do not have time to catch up with an old friend?"

"Not friends!" Sherlock hollered through the door, causing every occupant, even John, to roll their eyes. It hurt Adelaide a bit to hear that he wouldn't even consider her a friend anymore, but she pressed forward, not falling into the guilt that Sherlock obviously wanted her to feel.

"I messaged the detective inspector that Dr. Watson here wrote about in his blog, truly fantastic by the way, keep it up." She looked over to the now standing doctor with a smile, "He said that he would like to meet with me and see if he could use my skills."

There was a loud bang on the other side of the door to 221b, followed by the door being thrown open. Adelaide couldn't help as her lips twitched upwards as Sherlock flew past Mycroft and headed right towards her. She kept a neutral expression on her face as her childhood friend bore down on her, standing toe to toe, with a cold fire burning in his blue eyes.

Another buzz from her phone sent Sherlock's hand to try to snatch it away from her. Adelaide easily stepped out of his range while she looked at the message, only infuriating Sherlock more. She could feel his ice cold eyes burning into her as she typed her response to Lestrade. She elected to ignore the fired up consulting detective, deciding that if he was to remain interested, he would have to believe that she really didn't care one way or the other about what he did to her.

As soon as Adelaide hit send, she allowed her green eyes to meet Sherlock's burning gaze. Looking uninterested and quite honestly bored of Sherlock's horrible temperament , she started to turn to the Doctor, who was looking as confused as ever, but Sherlock's long boney fingers wrapped around her left bicep and harshly stopped her movements. The force and intensity of the grip caused Adelaide to flinch the slightest bit, and Mycroft to give what could only be described as a warning cough to his little brother, who was too upset to pay any mind to.

Once more face to face, Sherlock's calculating gaze held none of the childhood kindness she once knew. He stared her down with bitterness, attempting to read as much information as he could off of her person. Adelaide could tell he was beginning to get frustrated as he was not turning up with much besides the obvious facts.

"Why are you here?" He asked after skimming her over.

She smiled, "Surely you might have guessed, I was bribed by lady fingers."

Rolling his eyes at her comment he moved on to the more pressing matter, "Why would Lestrade have a case for YOU, and not me?"

Adelaide shook his firm grip off of her arm and shrugged while turning to head out of the building.

"First, it isn't a case, it is a meeting." A smirk graced her lips, "But if I was to get a case it is probably because I am easier to work with seeing as how you can't stop acting like a child." Then she left the fuming consultant, confused doctor, and exasperated brother to themselves.

[John]

After a minute of awkward and angry silence, John cleared his throat, "Who was that then?" He asked the brothers.

Silence was all that met his question. Becoming frustrated John looked down, putting his hands on his hips and rocked back on his heels, trying to withhold the frustration from being left in the dark on what seemed to be a big deal to the Holmes brothers.

Mycroft sighed and shook his head while walking down the stairs. "You know she could have said much worse about your manners, brother mine."

John quirked an eyebrow while Sherlock's furrowed brows never changed as he stared out the door. As Mycroft came to stand next to them near the entryway, John saw the slightest of smirks on Mycroft's face. Well, he was pleased about something.

"That was miss Adelaide Holt, an old friend-"

"Not friends" Sherlock mumbled, still staring at the door.

"Of Sherlock's and mine" He ignored his brother.

John scoffed, "You guys have friends?" He found this humorous considering their coldness to the world.

"Yes, a story for another day," Mycroft stated while looking back down at his watch, "I brought her here to help with cases."

"No."

"What? How can she help?" John asked looking between the brothers, who, as usual, ignored him.

"Why not?" Mycroft asked.

"I do not need any help, least of all from someone as unreliable as her." Sherlock said, finally turning around to his brother. The only word that John could describe as Sherlock's reaction was absolutely childish. He had the pout of a kid who knew he was not going to get his way, but he was looking at his brother like he was not going to go down without a fight.

Mycroft put the point of his umbrella down on the ground holding it next to him, the sound of it coming on the ground gave off the air that he would not be argued with. How important was this woman? John wondered

"Since you are obviously blind to the facts right now, and I do not have time nor is it my duty to tell you everything about her and where she has been, I will leave you with this, she stays." With that, Mycroft left.

John looked over to Sherlock who seemed to be zoned out in his... what did he call it? Mind house? Mind Mansion? It didn't matter anyway, Sherlock was obviously out of it. John coughed and bent down to pick up the shopping again.

"Did you decide to take that missing diamond case?" John asked trying to turn the conversation to something else.

It seemed to work because Sherlock immediately came out of his slump.

"No, too boring," He stated and turned to look down at John and the shopping, "You might want to go pick up more beer."

"What? Why?" John asked puzzled. He had just bought some yesterday.

"I needed to see what temperature it would take to blow up the cans." He stated simply before taking the bags out of John's hands and walked up the stairs and into their flat.

John could not find words or even pick an emotion between upset, curious, and frustrated. So he just stood there opening and closing his mouth before he let out a noise of frustration. Sighing, he pulled on his coat again and left back to the shop, hoping that he had enough money on his card.

[Adelaide]

Now that she was in the cab riding to the new Scotland Yard, Adelaide had time to think, and obviously most of her thoughts were about Sherlock.

She had left after they had turned 15. The circumstances of what caused her to leave, and everything that had happened after briefly tried to make an appearance in her thoughts before she (mentally) roughly shoved them back in the dark room in her mind that they have stayed lock up in for almost two years now.

She had let him down, they were in the middle of a project when she had taken off. Now that she had seen him again, she had seen true and genuine anger from him. Out of habit, it absolutely terrified her when she had first seen it. Now looking at it though, it didn't seem like he was just angry that she left. It seemed like he was angry because something happened when she left.

She didn't have much time to dwell on what could have happened to him because the cabbie had pulled up to the Yard. Paying the driver and then climbing out of the back, Adelaide walked past the black prism that introduced the fact that it was the New Scotland Yard, and passed through the doors into the glass and concrete building.

Adelaide didn't waste time with checking in, seeing as how there was a massive queue, and Lestrade already knew she was coming in at some point today. She briefly glanced at a directory telling her which floor the homicide department was on, before walking up to the second floor.

Once arriving, people began to look at her curiously as she made her way through the throngs of detectives. She glanced around the room until she saw a man who had several other people around him. She knew he must be Lestrade just by the way the other people in the room kept glancing at him to hear what he had to say.

He was grey, tired, but not from work, his ring finger (she noticed when he was gesturing with his hands) was redder than the others suggesting that he kept moving the ring around, obviously thinking about his wife, or what might soon be his ex wife.

With how many people were gathered around him and how many orders he was giving out, he either must be going on holiday or on an undercover case, away from the office. Seeing as how people were handing him files, it was the latter.

"Can I help you?" A male voice sounded from beside her.

Adelaide glanced over to the sound. A man, maybe one or two years older than herself, was standing next to her. He had rather greasy looking brown hair and blue eyes, which were apparently scanning her in a not so appropriate manner for a married man.

"Although I am sure you are wanting to help me in more ways than one, I can assure you I am in no need or want of assistance from you." Adelaide said, leaving the man looking dumbfounded as she walked over to the detective inspector.

"I should be back next week if everything goes according to plan," Lestrade was saying to Adelaide assumed was the sergeant that was helping him on the case. "Dimmock will be here tomorrow to work on any cases, I also wrote down everything he would need to know if he needs to work with Sherlock."

The woman rolled her eyes at the mention of the name and she was about to say something until her eyes landed on Adelaide, who was watching the scene from behind the D.I.

"Can we help you?" The woman asked, seeming a bit miffed that their conversation was interrupted.

Ignoring the bit of heat that the woman held in her voice, Adelaide stepped up to Greg Lestrade.

"Yes. I am Adelaide Holt, I assume you are the detective inspector I was messaging earlier?" She introduced herself, holding out her hand.

"Oh!" The man shuffled the files into his left hand so that he could shake hands with her as well. "Yeah, right, glad you could make it. Sorry, but I didn't know you had arrived." He said.

"Yeah, there was a long queue, so I just decided to head up here myself." Adelaide informed him.

"Well, right then, should we head into my office and have a chat?" He asked, gesturing towards an office door.

Following the man, they entered the room and Adelaide took the seat he offered her.

"So, you say that you want to work here?" Lestrade put his hands on the desk, looking like he was conducting an interview.

"Not so much be on the force as rather, being a psychoanalyst that comes when you run out of ideas." She smiled at him "Pretty much a more feeling, and more well behaved version of your consulting detective. By the way, the list you made for your replacement, needs to have "Do not get in power struggles with Sherlock, you will lose." on it." She said, pointing to the list of "If you need Sherlock" notes sitting off to the side on his desk.

The D.I. looked astonished and confused as to who Adelaide was. As if to prove that point he asked, "Sorry, but who are you and how do you know Sherlock?"

"I am Adelaide Holt, Sherlock and I have known each other for years, though, I am sure right now he would consider me an enemy, we used to get along fairly well."

"Why would I need another person like Sherlock?"

"Well, I am not necessarily like Sherlock, I am smart, but I tend to look more at human emotions and what drives people to do certain things while Sherlock tends to look more at the evidence and physical aspect of things. But while I do specialize in psychology I am fairly adept into looking at the physical evidence as well." Adelaide informed him.

He looked at her, trying to assess what to do. It was obvious that he knew two people to go to when they ran out of leads would be better than one, he was also trying to figure out how to prove that she was as good as she said.

After a minute of him thinking, Adelaide was starting to grow bored and so she threw out a suggestion. "Why don't you test me by handing me a file of the case you are going off to tomorrow?"

Looking surprised, Lestrade nodded and handed her the red folder containing all the information on the case he was heading off to. She started looking through the file as Lestrade started talking about it.

"Rafael Almanzar, 34, emigrate from Spain, believed to be a leader of a sex trade gang."

She paused from her reading "I thought you were strictly homicide?"

"We are," He informed her. "He kidnaps the children straight from their home-"

"Murdering the parents so no one will be looking for them." Adelaide finished, beginning to get into the mindset of Rafael.

"Right, so we have been tracking him all around and he tends to stick to the big cities. We also received intel saying that he is going to be in London this weekend."

"So, you're going to follow him around?" Adelaide asked a bit skeptically.

"Well, yeah." Lestrade said looking a bit offended that she was questioning him.

"Forgive me for questioning your plan, but wouldn't it be easier to lure him in, have him follow you, that way you have evidence as well as the fact that you will not be endangering other lives?"

"And how do you suggest I do that?" He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest, cocking an eyebrow.

"Well, looking at this file it seems that when he goes into the big cities he is only there for a day, so we can assume that he finishes his 'business trip' in one day. He would probably follow around a family for that day, meaning we could probably find him at a cinema or family restaurant scoping for vulnerable families. What I would recommend doing is borrow someone else's kids, probably two girls between 11 and 14, as well as a house. Then you would just pretend to be the perfect, naive family, out for the night. Let him follow you, then, at night find a way to get the children to safety and then arrest him as he comes into the home."

Lestrade just stared at her. She noted the impressed expression that he wore on his face. He obviously was wondering how she had thought of that in no more than four minutes of having the file.

"Yes, I am pretty good." She stated smugly, pulling the detective out of his staring.

"How would I be able to make sure he follows me?" He asked sitting forward now looking at her imploringly.

At this Adelaide smiled brightly, "Simple, you ask me to help you, nicely."

[Sherlock]

Sebastian Wilkes, a former... classmate. Though Sherlock had more thoughts about him other than just peer, but he was letting it go because if what seemed to be a most interesting case.

Sherlock walked up to the receptionist's desk while John seemed to be staring around in wonder at the Shad Sanderson bank. He was obviously out of his comfort zone, being in a more professional building. Sherlock glanced at the receptionist and immediately found her to be susceptible to flirtatious moves, which would get him into the office on onto the case more quickly.

"Sherlock Holmes." He put on his false smile to the receptionist, pretending to give her a glance over. The woman behind the desk blushed, and hurriedly tried to assist him. It wasn't long after that John and him were being lead to Sebastian's office. Too easy.

'That was manipulative.' A female voice sounded in his head.

Frowning, Sherlock mentally told her to shut up. He decided to distract his mind by looking at all of the security around him, due to the fact that Sebastian had said there was a break in in the email he had read this morning.

Once being shown into the office, Sherlock furrowed his brow as Sebastian was not yet in. Nevertheless, he took this opportunity to glance around the office and figure out what his old class mate has been doing in the past month or so, all the while, John stood idly in the corner, obviously looking confused as to why they were there.

Sherlock was about to explain, but Sebastian had walked into the room, trying to play best friends with the consultant.

"Sherlock Holmes!" He smiled, shaking his hand.

"Sebastian." He replied coldly.

Dropping hands Sebastian continues with the falsehood of friendship. "Howdy, buddy. How long's it been? Eight years since I last clapped eyes on you?"

Failing to disguise his dislike for the man, Sherlock was practically scowling at him. In turn, the business man turned to John trying to get away from the scrutinizing gaze.

"This is my friend, John Watson." Sherlock gestured.

Sebastian could not contain his snort. "Friend?"

"Colleague." John corrected.

That caused Sherlock to frown, were they not friends?

'I will always be your friend.' The annoyingly cheerful voice called to him.

"Not friends." He muttered under his breath to her.

"What was that?" the other men asked him.

"Nothing." Sherlock falsely flashed a smile.

"Right," The banker nodded to some chairs, making his way to his own. "Grab a pew, need anything? Coffee, water?"

"No." John said while Sherlock shook his head. He just wanted to get down to business.

'Be patient' Her voice chided again.

Doing what he could to ignore her, Sherlock put his mind to what did what he does best; he went to work.