She quickly hailed a cab and set of for the Landmark Hotel in Marylebone Road, Tyler pushing the cab door open as she arrived at the rather grand looking building and stepping out onto the pavement. She felt a smile spread across her face as she took in the building, she was finally going to see Clara and John again. It was good to be back. 

She headed up to the glass front doors that were opened as she approached the doorman. She paused as she entered the large, lavish room and pulled her coat off and passing it off to a member of staff waiting by the doors.

"Ma'am," a dark haired man stepped towards her, the Maitre D', "May I help you?"

Tyler quirked an eyebrow looking him over quickly. Expectant father, she deduced as a buzzing noise went off in the man's pocket, "that'll be her wife, her contractions have started." The man's eyes widened and he quickly reached into his pocket for his phone, checking it before hurrying off towards the front doors. Tyler smirked smugly.

"I'm back, she buttoned her black blazer across her purple top. She turned her attention back to the restaurant before them, to all the people sitting at tables scattered around the room. She broke into a smile as she caught sight of John sitting at a table in the middle of the room, checking something in his inner jacket pocket before reaching out to pickup his glass of water. He was nervous and she frowned at that, what did he have to be nervous about. She did suppose anniversary dinner's kinda had this huge expectation to them. 

Before she could take another step forward a waitress walked past her with a couple of menus in her hands, almost bumping into her, "'Scuse me, ma'am," she muttered, continuing on her way.

Tyler glanced at her, doing a quick double take as she realized that she was actually dressed similar to the waiting staff, black skirt for the girls and blazer, the only difference was that she was wearing a purple top instead of a white one and she was missing a bow tie. Though, she supposed John and Clara were never very observant. 

Her eyes scanned the room and she noticed a couple just a little ways from John. The man's back was to her, but she could see his reflection in the glass, giving her view of the bowtie around his neck. She smirked, perfect. She hurried passed him, trying to seem like she was in a rush and purposely knocked over the glass of water across the front of his shirt. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She shrilled, picking up a napkin to dab the front of his collar and slide of his neck tie. "My apologies." She smiled warmly at him, turning her back to him and quickly tying the bow tie around her collar.

She slid by one of the counters that the waiters set the used menu's on and grabbed it off the counter and the pair of round glasses that sat on top of it. She slipped the glasses on and held the menu between her chin and her chest as she quickly tied her hair up into a neat bun, a few curls hanging loose around her face. 

She hurried passed a table of women and came up behind one of them with a bright smile, "try this one, it's completely identical to the you already had." She slipped the menu from the woman and gave her the one she'd picked up, discreetly sliding her liquid eyeliner out of her purse. She straightened and turned away, lifting the eyeliner up to her face and drawing a little handle bar mustache onto her upper lip, resisting the urge to laugh. Oh, she couldn't wait to see John's face - she had a dozen jokes lined up already. 

She took a steadying breath to calm her racing heart and came up behind John, flashing him the wine list, "Can I 'elp you with anything, sir?" She asked John, putting on a slightly nasally French accent. 

"Hi, yeah," John nodded, his eyes fixed on the menu in his hands with a small frown, not even glancing back to Tyler, "I'm looking for a bottle of champagne, a good one."

"Mmm!" She leaned closer to him, waving her hand around with the eyeliner in it at the menu in John's hand, "Well, these are all excellent vintages."

He nodded, still frowning at the menu, "Er, it's not really my area," he admitted, "What do you suggest?"

"Well, you cannot possibly go wrong, but, erm, if you'd like my personal recommendation..." she trailed off, trying to get him to look up to her.

"Mm-hm," John nodded again, not looking up.

Tyler gestured with the eyeliner towards something on the menu list in John's hands, "...this last one on the list is a favorite of mine," she informed him, still keeping the accent going, but still John didn't turn his head to look at her, "It is, you might in fact say... like a face from the past," she whipped her glasses off her face and stood, waiting dramatically, staring down at John expectantly.

"Great," John said, picking up his wine glass that was half full of red wine. He still didn't look up, "I'll have that one, please," he told her, finishing off his wine in one big gulp.

Tyler seemed quite startled herself that John still hadn't looked around to her, "It is familiar, but, er, with the quality of surprise!" She tried again, holding her arms out like a game show host with the cheesy smile and everything.

John was too busy grimacing at the taste of his wine, before handed the wine list back to Tyler, not even glancing back to her as he did so, "Well, uh, surprise me," he said to her, taking a deep breath.

Tyler snatched the wine list out of his hand, rolling her eyes in annoyance, "Certainly endeavoring to, sir," she mumbled, and began to walk away towards the bar.

It was just as Tyler walked away that Clara came walking down the stairs to where John was waiting for her. She looked beautiful. She was wearing a beautiful high low dress, the torso being a black sleeveless corset with a modest sweetheart neckline with peach pink skirt that came up a little higher in the front than in the back, paired with a black cardigan and a pair of black ankle boots. She had her hair done up in bouncy curls, half pinned back and falling down her back like a waterfall. She had also chosen an assortment of pink, black, gold bracelets, a long silver chain that hung low down her front and a pair of black, triangle studs in her ears. Her makeup was done up fancier than she usually had it, with light pink eyeshadow that matched her lip gloss and the skirt of her dress, with thin eyeliner and mascara. 

"Sorry that took so long," she smiled across at John as she took a seat who was looking slightly flustered. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," John said hurriedly, smiling back at her, "Me? Fine. I am fine."

"Now then," the brunette began, smiling fondly back at John, "What did you want to ask me?"

John swallowed nervously, "More wine?" he asked.

"No, I'm good with water, thanks." She giggled. 

"Right," he looked away briefly.

"So..." Clara trailed off.

"Um, so... Clara. Listen, um..." he paused, seeming to be struggling to try and find the right words, "We've known each other a long time..." he looked down for a long moment, trying to gather his thoughts.

Clara smiled at him, finding how awkward he was quite adorable, "Go on," she encouraged him. 

"Yes, I will," John nodded, looking down for another long moment to gather his thoughts, before lifting his head and looking back up to her, "As you know, these last couple of years haven't been easy for us, and you..." he paused, looking at her, nodding, "You have been the only good thing in my life for the past two years."

"I agree," Clara cut in with a smile.

"What?"

"I agree I am the only good thing in your life, in fact I think I'm the best," She smirked at him and John laughed. "Sorry," Clara shook her, laughing herself. 

"Well, no," John shook his head, his face slightly pink as his laughter faded, "That's, um..." he paused and looked back up to her, "So... if you'll have me, Clara, could you see your way, um..." Clara laughed softly, seeming to have caught on to just what he was actually trying to say. He cleared his throat loudly as she continued to giggle, "If you could see your way too..." he tried again.

Suddenly, Tyler swooped back in with a bottle of champagne in hand, still wearing her ridiculous disguise, except this time she came up behind Clara, maybe she'd have better luck with getting her attention. 

"Ma'am, sir," Tyler said hurriedly in her French accent, holding the champagne bottle out between John and Clara, "I think you'll find this vintage exceptionally to your liking," Clara covered the side of her face with her hand to hide her laughter from their 'waitress' keeping ehr eyes fixed on John, while Tyler continued to prattle on, "It 'as all the qualities of the old, with some of the color of the new..."

"No, sorry," John told Tyler, his eyes still locked on Clara's, trying hard to shake off their 'waitress', "Not now, please".

"Like a gaze from a crowd of strangers..." Tyler went on, ignoring John, "Suddenly one is aware of staring into ze face of an old friend," she reached up and pulled her glasses off.

"Okay, seriously..." Clara finally turned in her seat to Tyler. "If you could just..." She trailed off, her entire body jolting in shock and disbelief, staring up at her, actually seeing her. Her face paled, as if she had just seen a ghost, which Tyler supposed, to her she just had. 

"Hey, there," Tyler remarked softly, dropping the French accent. She shifted her gaze over to John who stared up at her with the same look on his face as Clara had, "did you miss me?"

John looked back to Clara, concern washing over his face as he watched her eyes filled with tears and duck her head for a moment. John stood from his chair stumbling clumsily on his own feet. Tyler automatically reached out to grab his arm to try and help right him, but he flinched back from her so violently that he very nearly sent his chair flying backwards across the floor. 

"Right," She winced apologetically, lowering her hand quickly as she eyed John worriedly and then Clara. She should have known this would happen, how could she be so foolish as to convince herself that she could just waltz right back into her old life like she hadn't put them all through Hell the past two years. "Short version..." She began, sitting the champagne bottle down the table, bringing her hands together down her front. She looked back at John and then at Clara who finally looked up at her with tear filled eyes, "Not dead."

Clara stared back at her, her eyes filled with pain and grief, but slowly all of that seemed to start to be replaced by anger while the shock started to fade.

Tyler swallowed, feeling the anger practically rolling off her in waves, "Bit mean, springing it on you like that, I know," she admitted, turning back to John, "Could have given you a heart attack, probably still will. But in my defense, it was trying to be funny," she laughed nervously, avoiding Clara's murderous eyes and John's dark gaze.

"You were..." John licked his lips, trying to swallow his emotions back. "Oh, my God." 

"Not quite."

"You died," John shook his head, shocked, "you jumped off a roof."

"No," Tyler said simply.

"You're dead!" John shouted, gaining everyone's attention. 

"No," Tyler looked back to him, "I'm quite sure. I checked." She grabbed a napkin from the table and dipped one of the corners into Clara's glass of water, looking back to John as she whipped the penned mustache off her upper lip, leaving her skin pink, "Does- does yours rub off too?" She asked him, trying hard to sound casual under John's intense glare, gulping back a laugh as she tried to lighten the mood. 

"Do you..." John squared off his jaw and Tyler was shocked to see how mad he really was. "Do you have any idea what you've done to Clara? To all of us?"

"Yes, of course I do," Tyler looked between them, lowering her head from their intense glares. "And if you could just let me explain myself-"

She was cut off by Clara slamming her hands down on the table top, shooting up from her chair so fast that it fell backwards. The entire table shook, very nearly breaking the glasses as the water sloshed dangerously around inside. She hunched over, trying hard to just keep breathing as she closed her eyes tightly. Tyler had the right mind to look nervous. 

"Clara..." John began, looking over at her carefully.

Clara drew in a shaky breath before looking back up to Tyler, ignoring John, "Two years," she said in a strangled whisper. She shook her head, taking another deep breath and releasing it as she looked back up to Tyler, "Two years... hmm?" She whimpered, her shoulders slumping, struggling to get the word out, "I thought..." she moaned again, gesturing helplessly as John looked at her sympathetically. Tyler winced, ducking her head, "I thought... you were dead," she swallowed thickly, looking back up to the blonde, breathing hard as her eyes filled with anger again, "Hmm?" She raised her eyebrows at Tyler accusingly, "Now, you let me- us grieve, hmm? How could you do that?" She demanded, glaring at her as as Tyler bit her lip guiltily and a pained expression crossed her face, "How?" She repeated in a furious whisper.

"Wait," Tyler began hastily, holding up a hand, "Before you do anything that you might regret..." She shifted slightly on the spot; her hand still raised, "Um, one question," she continued, speaking fast, "Just let me ask one question. Um..." she suddenly broke into a broad smile, looking close to giggling as she gestured up towards her own hair in a last attempt to lighten the mood, "did you change your hair?" She asked the brunette, glancing at John, who laughed in disbelief.

Clara took a long, deep breath and suddenly threw herself at Tyler, grabbing her by her collar and shoving her backwards across the restaurant. John's eyes shot open as the grin on Tyler's face vanished, her eyes widening as she was practically thrown onto the floor by Clara as the brunette furiously began trying to throttle her, her hands wrapping around her throat. All the while waiters and John tried to pull them apart before anyone could actually be killed, which seemed highly likely with the look of murderous rage on Clara's face right about now...

Thankfully, Clara didn't end up killing Tyler, though she had left several nasty bruises on Tyler's throat that she was keeping hidden with her upturned collar. Needless to say all three of them had now been banned from the restaurant and the manager had threatened to call the police on them, and so they had been forced to relocate to a small café just around the corner. Tyler sat on one side of the table, looking back across to where John and Clara where sitting on the other side, their arms crossed across their chests, their expressions hard.

"I knew what Jimmy wanted, he wanted me, and if he couldn't have me there was only one other option," Tyler began to explain, sitting forward on her crossed arms. "I wanted to avoid dying, if at all possible so Mycroft and I came up with several different scenarios-"

"Mycroft?" Clara echoed and Tyler snapped her eyes to the brunette with a frown. "Mycroft knew you were alive."

Tyler seemed to realize what she just let slip and sighed, "yes, only because he was the only one who could help me-"

"He knew you were alive and he just let Sherlock suffer like that?" Clara cut her off again and Tyler frowned again. She more upset about her choosing to ask Mycroft for help over Sherlock than choosing him over her? "You both just..." She trailed off, squaring off her jaw and dropping her gaze to her lap. 

"We couldn't involve Sherlock he would've ruined everything," Tyler began to explain.

"You know, for a genius you can be remarkably thick," John cut across him, his expression growing hard again.

"What?" She blinked, confused.

"We don't care how you faked it," Clara told her tightly, "I wanna know why."

"Why?" She frowned, bewildered that she would even ask such a question, "Because, Jim had to be stop. It was my responsibility..." She trailed off when she took in the look on Clara's face. "Oh," she said slowly, nodding in realization, "'Why,' as in..." She pointed between the two fo them, and Clara nodded at her, "I see," she looked down at the red and white plastic check table cloth for a moment, before lifting her eyes back up to her, "Yes. 'Why?' That's a little more difficult to explain."

"I've got all night," Clara said darkly.

"Well, technically, it was mostly Mycroft's idea," Tyler informed them, almost blurting the words out.

"Oh, Mycroft, again?" She asked in an eerily calm voice, pointing a finger at Tyler. "Are you switching Holmes brothers, hm?" Clara snapped and Tyler's eyebrows shot up at the implication. 

"Well, she would've needed someone to help her disappear..." John spoke up, glancing at Clara as he gestured to Tyler, who looked at him in surprise, not expecting him to defend her. Clara, on the other hand, simply stared at him as if she had never seen him before, making him grimace, slightly apologetic as he lowered his hand. "Sorry," he told her, slightly sheepishly, before crossing his arms back across his chest and looking down.

Clara turned back to Tyler, "But he was the only one?" She asked, raising her eyebrows at the blonde, "The only one who knew?"

"Well..." Tyler trailed off, glancing between the two of them, biting her bottom lip. "Couple of others," she admitted, almost as if she was forcing the words out, looking back to Clara, who ducked her head, "It was a very elaborate plan, it had to be," she quickly went on, taking a deep breath. 

"Who else?" Clara sighed heavily, lifting her head to look back up to the blonde, "Who else knew?" Tyler hesitated, an uncertain look crossing her face, "Who?" She demanded, annoyed.

"Bree," Tyler answered, cringing. She knew that she wouldn't be happy about this one.

"Bree?" She exclaimed angrily. "You're sister!"

"Clara..." John said softly, seeing her getting worked up all over again.

"And Molly," Tyler continued hurriedly, looking directly at Clara, "And some of Sherlock's homeless network that I had picked up along the way, and that's all."

"Okay," Clara nodded, sitting up straighter in her chair and glancing at John, who gave her a small, sympathetic smile. She looked back to Tyler, "Okay. So, just Mycroft and your sister, and Molly Hooper, and a hundred tramps ."

"No!" Tyler laughed, shaking her head before turning serious, "Twenty five at the most."

Clara was on her feet in seconds and pushing her chair back as she practically hurled herself across the table at Tyler, grabbing her by her shoulders as knives and folks clattered onto the floor.

"Clara!" John shouted, his eyes widening in alarm.

And so, after yet another fight which involved Clara hitting Tyler and splitting her lower lip, they found themselves standing in the small kebab shop that was just across road from the café that they were now also banned from. John and Clara stood beside each other, leaning with their backs against the counter, purposely avoiding looking at Tyler as she stood opposite them. She was holding her coat folded over her arm, as she dabbed at the faintly bleeding cut on her lower lip with a tissue that John had retrieved from behind the counter for her. She pulled the tissue back and glanced at the blood, wincing as she pressed it back against her lip.

She looked around Clara to where John was still avoiding looking at her, "Seriously, it's not a joke?" She asked him with a frown, pulling the tissue away and gesturing up to her own top lip. John finally looked at her"You're- you're really keeping this?"

John cleared his throat, "Yeah," he nodded, shifting slightly awkwardly on the spot. He almost seemed embarrassed now that everything seemed to calm down. 

She nodded, as if accepting it, "Sure?" She narrowed her eyes.

"Clara likes it."

"Mmmmmm, no, she doesn't." 

John didn't even blink, "She's does," he told him, seeming to be completely certain.

"Johnny, I've known the woman for five years. No, she doesn't," Tyler argued, looking away from him and lifting the tissue back up to dab at her lip.

John glanced over to Clara, only to do a double take when she didn't say anything. She hastily opened her mouth, avoiding meeting his eyes as she muttered something to low for anyone to actually understand, "Oh!" he exclaimed, embarrassingly trying to cover his mustache with his hand, realizing that it was true, "Brilliant."

"I'm sorry," Clara sighed, cringing slightly, looking rather embarrassed herself at having been outed, "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know how to tell you..." She trailed off when John crossed his arms with a huff and she sighed. "This is charming," she said sarcastically, pointing angrily back to Tyler with a glare, "I've really missed this!"

"Let's just forget about it," Tyler cut in calmly, raising her voice slightly to be heard over Clara, "There's more important things to be discussing right now, so let's focus on those," she stopped herself from making anymore jokes. "I need your help." 

"You need our help!" Clara whirled on her. "Oh, that's rich." Silence fell over their little group for a moment, before Clara stepped closer to Tyler, glaring furiously at her, "One word," she hissed, "That is all I would have needed. One word to let me know that you were alive!" She took a step back, breathing heavily.

Tyler closed her eyes, wincing, "You have no idea how much I..." she paused, gathering her thoughts, "How much I wanted to contact you, all of you" she corrected herself, looking back to John and then to Clara again, "You have no idea how close I came to sending you a message these last two Christmases, or even just a simple text on your birthday, but..."

Clara cut her off with a disbelieving laugh, shaking her head as she refused to look at her, her eyes fixed on the floor. She knew Tyler, better than anyone, she knew that if she had really wanted to send her a message, then she would have.

Tyler cleared her throat, trying to mask the hurt look on her face, "I worried that, you know, you might say something indiscreet," she explained to them. 

"Oh, no," John breathed, looking nervously at Clara.

Her head snapped back up to stare at the blonde, "What?"

"You know, let the cat out of the bag..." She continued, shrugging.

Clara stepped closer to her, "Oh, so this is my fault?" She snapped.

"Oh, God..." John groaned out in disbelief, dropping his head into his hands, and closing his eyes in exasperation at how upset Clara was getting over the whole thing. 

"Why am I the only one who thinks this is wrong?" Clara shouted angrily, looking back to John, "The only one reacting like a human being?"

"You're being over dramatic." Tyler rolled her eyes. 

"No, you're over dramatic!" Clara shouted, her eyes wide and accusing. 

"Clara!" John called, trying to get her to calm down and stop shouting as everyone in the shop stared at them.

"'Over dramatic!'" She continued shouting, turning back to glare at Tyler, completely ignoring the attention that they had drawn to themselves, "So, you fake your own death..."

"Shh!" Tyler tried to shush her, looking around the cafe warily. 

"And you waltz in here, large as bloody life..."

"Shh!"

"Clara!" John hissed, but she simply continued on with her rant.

Clara stepped closer to her, dropping her voice very slightly, "...but I'm not supposed to have a problem with that, no, because Tyler Jackson thinks it's a perfectly OKAY THING TO DO!" She finished off yelling.

"Shut up, Clara!" Tyler shouted at her, finally getting the chance, "I don't want everyone knowing I'm still alive!"

"Oh, so it's still a secret, is it?" She demanded furiously.

"Yes! It's still a secret," Tyler looked around at the other customers and staff in the shop, some of whom now trying to pretend as if they weren't listening in. She glanced back at Clara, "Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"Swear to God!" Clara shouted sarcastically, before pausing, some of her anger fading as she noticed that the customers around them were exchanging uncomfortable looks. She took a step back, releasing a loud sigh.

Tyler shifted awkwardly, taking a deep breath, "Clara," she began carefully, making the brunette look back to her, her expression still tight, "I really don't blame you for being so upset, but right now I need you to listen. Please, just for a moment," she half pleaded, licking her lips as she quickly cast a look around the room, before turning back to Clara and John and lowering her voice, "There's going to be a terrorist attack in London, possibly within the next few days. London is in danger, guys, very grave danger. But, I can't stop it without Sherlock, without all of you."

"Sherlock?" John echoed, frowning. 

"I can't go to him alone," She looked between the two fo them pleadingly. She needed someone to be the peace maker, someone that Sherlock cared for and hadn't sent him off the deep end by faking their death for two years. 

"Why would I help you?" Clara scoffed in disbelief. 

"Because your my best friend," Tyler said like it was that simple and Clara looked away from her, shaking her head. "Because you're both my best friends and I need your help," She looked over to John for help, but he simply casted a worried look at Clara. "If not for me, for Sherlock." 

And that's how they ended up at Baker Street, the three of them standing just outside of 221B. They could hear shuffling on the other end of the door but no one made a move to open it. Tyler just stared at the door knob, this was it. After two years she was going to see him again and she didn't know how she would handle it if he reacted anything close to the way Clara had.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" John asked her gently. "He's not exactly in his right mind."

"No, I have to do this." Tyler muttered, not taking her eyes off the door. 

"As you should, it's your fault." Clara muttered, her arms crossed. Tyler bit her lip, lowering her gaze slightly as the truth of the words hit her hard like a smack in the face. 

Finally she took in a deep breath and pushed open the door, surprised to find it unlocked and slowly made her way upstairs. The sounds coming from the flat got louder as she made her way closer to the landing. She didn't expect what she saw. 

Papers were absolutely everywhere, pinned to the wall, hanging from a string across the ceiling and scattered on every table top possible. In the center of it all stood Sherlock, he didn't look much different than he did two years ago, right down to the same dressing gown. His curls were wild, like they hadn't been brushed in ages and there was stubble on his face having not shaved in months. He looked even paler than before, if that was possible, but not the 'not getting enough sun' pale, a sickly pale. 

She frowned watching him pace around the room like a made man, checking papers and writing things down, tacking things to the walls. "Sherlock...?" She began carefully.

She noticed him freeze in his spot his back to her as his hand froze from where it was scribbling a note on the newspaper clipping. He dropped his head slightly, and she could see the muscles in his jaw tighten. "Get out. Get out! Get out of my head!" He snapped, seemingly at himself as he banged his fist against his skull. 

Tyler tossed a worried look back at Clara and John who were just standing back, watching the scene unfold. Clara licked her lips, looking like she wanted to run over to him and help him, make everything okay, but she knew she wasn't the one who would be able to do that. 

Instead John took a small step forward, "Sherlock." He tried this time. 

The curly haired man whirled around, looking right Tyler to the other two in the room, "John. John Watson," he pointed a finger at the doctor then over at Clara. "Clara. Clara Hudson. What are you doing here?" He asked, blinking rapidly like he wasn't seeing things right. 

"Do you have a list?" Clara asked, and Tyler frowned back at her. What list?

"On the fridge." He waved a hand at her dismissively, turning back to his work. He frowned in thought, tapping his sharpie marker against the palm of his hand as he did so. 

"Sherlock..." Tyler tried again, but he continued to ignore her. "Sherlock, look at me!" She snapped.

He let out an irritable sigh, whirling around to face her like a teenager would their mother who hadn't stopped nagging them to do the dishes. "What do you want?"

"Look, I know me dying wasn't easy and I'm sorry that I did that to you, but at least talk to me," She shook her head at him. 

He rolled his eyes, "I've heard it all a million times," he muttered, going back to his work and missing the curious looks the other three in the room shared. "You're sorry. And you had to kill yourself because of Moriarty. You had no other choice. I should move on cause you're never coming back," he rambled on and Tyler's eyes widened slightly at what he was saying, what he thought she really was. "Now, please get out of my head so I can do my work. Something bad is about to happen, I just can't figure out what." 

"Sherlock that's what I'm here about, please just listen..." She tried but he kept ignoring her. 

"Sherlock," John stepped forward and Sherlock gave a hum in response. "Just listen to her. It's urgent."

Sherlock froze, his whole body going rigid. Slowly he turned around to look at John with big eyes, they slowly turned to Tyler and then back to John. "You can see her too?"

"Yes."

"And you haven't...?"

"No."

"So, she's...?"

"Yes." John gave a firm nod.

Sherlock's eyes turned back to the blonde and she offered him a small wave but his face turned completely blank. Without saying a word Sherlock walked right passed her and out the door getting three sets of incredulous eyes. 

Clara's eyes instantly turned sad, "Sherlock..." She began, hurrying after the curly haired detective. 

Tyler dropped onto the couch, running her hands through her hair as she let out a slow breath. What had she done? He would never forgive her. Things would never go back to the way they were, and she was a fool for thinking they would.

"He hates me," Tyler shook her head, her hands coming to latch together on the back of her neck. "He actually hates me." She whispered. 

John watched her for a moment, casting a look back over his shoulder to where Clara and Sherlock had left through. "I'll talk them round," he told her, turning back.

Tyler blinked, surprised, "You will?" She said curiously, lifting her head to look at him.

John pressed his lips into a thin line, nodding, "Oh, yeah." 

Tyler couldn't help, but be surprised. She had expected him to be just as mad as Clara and Sherlock, if not more for hurting his best friend and his girlfriend (now soon to be wife) so badly. So, why was he so understanding. "Why?"

"Because," John looked down like he was trying to figure it out himself. "Because no matter how bad you hurt Clara and Sherlock by leaving, they would've died if you didn't. And I can understand that, you were protecting them."

"I was protecting you too." She added in a light voice. 

John smiled softly at her, nodding, "I know." He looked at her properly and reached out to touch her arm, making her look back to him, "Clara and Sherlock can't stay angry at you forever," he said softly, trying to give her a reassuring smile, "They'll come around, they always do."

"Hmm, just how many more times will I have to be strangled first?" She said thoughtfully, wincing as She reached up to touch her lip. 

"Knowing Clara, a couple more." He said, only half joking, getting a light laugh from the blonde. 

~*~ 

Lestrade was making his way across an underground parking garage, searching through his pockets for something as he went. He paused for a brief moment and frowned, listening as for a brief moment he had thought he had heard the sound of high heels clicking on concrete floor, but when the sound didn't come again, he shook his head and continued patting his pockets down. Suddenly, something metallic clattered loudly from the shadows behind him and he stopped again, looking back over his shoulder, but there was nothing there. He went back to his search and finally found what he was looking for, his box of cigarettes and a lighter. He grabbed one and stuck it in his mouth, lifting his lighter and flicking the flame on, moving it up towards the end of his cigarette

"Those thing will kill you, you know," A female voice came from out of the darkness, making Lestrade freeze, just about to lit the cigarette, staring ahead of him as he tried to work out if he had seriously just heard that voice. "And in a parking garage?"

He flickered the lighter, cutting off the flame, "Ooh, you little..." he said around his cigarette, reaching up to pulling it out of his mouth as he turned to look into the shadows where her voice had come from. 

She laughed, "Best not to finish that sentence, I think," she warned him playfully. "It's time to come back," Tyler remarked as she stepped out of the shadows towards Lestrade, "You've been letting things slide, Greg." 

Lestrade just stared at her for a moment, looking for one brief moment as if he didn't know what to do. He began to move towards her and he suddenly pulled her into his arms, picking her up in a big bear hug, and even went as far as to spin around. Tyler let out a startled shriek, not expecting that, but it quickly morphed into a soft laugh as he let her back on her feet. He had his hands resting on her shoulders as he smiled at her, almost not believing she was right there in front of him. 

>>>

It was almost midnight and Mrs Hudson was standing by her kitchen sink with a pair of purple gloves on, washing up her pan before heading off to bed. The radio was going in the background and she listened to it absently as she scrubbed at the pan's surface.

"...with an anti-terrorism bill this important," the male news reporter was saying over the radio, "The government feels duty bound to push through the legislation with due expect"

She froze as a noise came from outside in the hall, like the front door being opened. She leaned over and switched the radio off as she hastily grabbed the pan from the sink, dripping water all across her floor as she carried it with her through her flat and over to her front door, slowly reaching up to unlock it. It creaked loudly as she pulled it open, still wearing her rubber gloves as she carefully stepped out into the dimly lit entrance hall, her pan raised as a weapon before her.

The front door swung shut as she looked ahead to where a frost pane of glass was on the internal door, only for her eyes to widen in shock and disbelief a silhouette of a very familiar, curly haired blonde appeared. The woman opened the door and none other than Tyler Jackson stepped into view.

Mrs Hudson began screaming in completely shock, dropping the pan.

It had taken both Tyler some time to calm Mrs Hudson down, before disappearing upstairs to check on her flat and this new resident when Mrs. Hudson decided to go to bed. She came up to the door only to stop when she looked over at 221B - she didn't think this Amy girl would let some stranger stay the night in her flat, even if it was technically hers, but she doubted Sherlock would let her either. Finally, she decided to take her chances with Sherlock and headed next door instead. 

She felt thoroughly tired now as she half dragged herself up the wooden staircase, but she wasn't so tired that she couldn't manage a small smile as she stepped into the living room to find it exactly the same as it had been two years, be it covered with a dozen papers like earlier. She stopped when she saw Sherlock Holmes sitting in his armchair by the fire place, the curtain flung open to reveal the bright moon and millions of stars in the dark knight sky. He sat with his finger tips pressed together just beneath his chin, his eyes closed, just the same as always. 

Tyler pulled her coat and blazer off and left it lying on the arm of the couch. She took her shoes off and left them by the coffee table as she stepped towards Sherlock cautiously. "I knew."

"Knew what?" Tyler asked quietly as she neared where he was sitting, standing just beside John's chair, watching him carefully. 

"That if you went on the roof you were going to die." He said simply, his voice a low murmur as he had yet to move, yet to even open his eyes. 

Tyler took a cautious step forward, gently taking a seat on the edge of John's chair, "but, I didn't."

"I thought you did," his eyes snapped open to meet her bright Hazel eyes and she didn't think she'd ever seen such a beautiful blue. Tyler pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth, her tongue poking out to lick the cut still there, watching him carefully, like one wrong move would send him running. He shifted forward, grabbing something from on the floor by his feet. A first aid kit. He grabbed out a bottle of antiseptic cream and a few sterile cotton swabs. 

"You don't have to" She broke off as he stood up and tilted her head up for him to see better. He placed the medical supplies on the small table beside him and unscrewed the creams lid before removing the cotton swab from its plastic covering, dipping it into the cream and turning back to Tyler, who was watching him. Had she not been so used to that unnerving stare of his that seemed to see right through a person, she might have been slightly nervous, but she was used to him now.

"This will sting," he warned, not waiting for her response before he brushed the swab onto the cut on her lip. She hissed very softly when he first touched the cut. He didn't say anything as he met her eyes briefly. He finished as quickly as he could and gave her a tight lipped smile that seemed more like a grimace than anything else. "Finished."

"Thank you..." She whispered, watching him move to put everything back into the kit Clara had put together and left in the bathroom the last time a case went south. They had one in their flat too - well it used to be their flat. 

"What did you do?" he asked suddenly.

She frowned slightly, glancing back over to him as he began screwing the lid back on the cream and rolled the used swab up in its wrappers, "I'm sorry?"

"Over the past two years," he clarified, seeming to be genuinely curious.

"Oh," she paused, turning back to face him properly, crossing her legs under herself. "I took down Jim," Sherlock tossed her a look that said he knew that much. He wanted details. "I traveled, a lot. It took me a while to track down all his contacts and figure everything out, but I did it," she smiled faintly, almost proudly. "I didn't think his reach was that vast, it was actually quite impressive."

"So, is that it then? Are you done?"

"I think so," she looked down at her hands thoughtfully, "I'm glad. I like it here in London, working with you. And Clara and John."

"I'm sure that my brother will be very disappointed to hear that," Sherlock remarked casually, far too casually for Tyler's comfort.

Tyler frowned deeply at him, something not sounding right, and then it clicked into place. "I never told you I worked with Mycroft," she said slowly, narrowing her eyes at him. "There's no way for you to know that, unless..." she sighed, closing her in exasperation, "Clara. She told you." 

Sherlock didn't answer her, simply set the case back onto the table and crossed over to the window, peering down at the darken street below. She eyed his back, her eyes still narrowed, "You're jealous," she deduced after a moment.

He scoffed, not looking at her, "I don't get jealous".

"Everyone get's jealous, including you."

"No, I don't."

The corner of her mouth rose, knowing for certain that she was right and the way he was acting now, that only proved it even more, "You sound like a child now," she commented lightly, smoothing her skirt down, "I must say, I'm rather flattered."

Sherlock turned around to face her, glaring, "I am not jealous," he insisted through clenched teeth.

"Why else would you care that I spent the last two years with Mycroft?"

"Perhaps I just don't like my brother."

"Oh, I imagine you don't, but the underlying emotion was jealousy," she smiled and stood, shrugging as she began collecting up the bin to go put it back in the bathroom, "Anyway, while this discussion as been very educational, I think I ought to get some rest. And it's going to take a while to get a hotel room together." 

"Don't be ridiculous," Sherlock cut her off, causing her to pause as she tried to gather her things. "You'll be staying here." 

Tyler blinked, spinning around on her heel to look at him, "I couldn't possibly..."

"Why not?"

"Because John moved out, and I assume he took his bed with him. I couldn't possibly sleep on the couch," She started rambling off her excuses.

"So, sleep in my bed," he cut her off, causing her to gap at him. He shook his head at her, "I'm unlikely to use it tonight." 

"No, I'll just..." she trailed off with sigh, she shared a bed with Clara many times before it wouldn't be any different to do so with Sherlock. But, why did it feel so different? "I don't mind sharing, just for tonight. After that, I'll see if Amy? Is that her name? If she's willing to share-"

"There's always John's room. As you said, it is empty." 

She stared at him, startled, "are you suggesting I move in with you." 

"You have nowhere else."

"Not true," she crossed her arms. "I have next door. Amy seems lovely."

"You'd rather live with some stranger than with me?" Sherlock challenged and for once Tyler didn't know what to say. 

Tyler reached up to rub her forehead, but she couldn't deny he was right. It would be weird living in her and Clara's flat without Clara. But, it wouldn't be the same with Sherlock either. He wasn't the same as Clara. 

She couldn't just climb into his bed when she got bored and stay up talking about whatever through the hours of the nights. She couldn't get him to sit down with her and have tea and have him just listen while she spouted ideas for whatever case they were working or ideas for her next book. He didn't know how to just listen and not put his two cents in. And although she loved bouncing ideas and deductions back and forth with Sherlock she liked being able to just know Clara was there, listening. 

What if she'd lost that forever?

"Sherlock," she began warily, looking back up to him, her mind still spinning, "Can we discuss this later? I'm tired."

"Of course," he nodded.

She gave him a small smile and began to head for his bedroom, scooping her coat and blazer off the couch as she moved passed it. She paused, though, and glanced back to him, "Night, Sherly," she called to him.

"Goodnight, Tyler."