Night had fallen by the time that Sherlock, John, and the girls climbed out of a cab and began to make their way quickly down the footpath near the House of Parliament, heading across to where a set of stairs where that led down into Westminster station. They reached the bottom of the stairs and walked across to the ticket barriers, slipping through and continuing on their way through the stations corridors, moving as fast as they could without drawing attention to themselves.

"So, it's a bomb, then?" John said as they walked, glancing at Sherlock and Tyler beside him, Tyler slipping her phone back inside her coat pocket, "A Tube carriage is carrying a bomb."

"You might want to lower your voice slightly," Tyler warned warily, casting a quick glance back over her shoulder to check that they hadn't caught anyone's attention. John wasn't exactly keeping his voice down. She looked back around Sherlock to him, "But yes, I imagine so."

"Right," he nodded, looked over to Clara who was slipping her glove off and reaching into her pocket, pulling out her phone.

Sherlock blinked, looking slightly alarmed as he noticed her reaching for her phone, "What are you doing?" he frowned.

"Calling the police." She said like it should've been obvious.

"What? No!"

"Not your best idea Clara," Tyler began calmly, placing a hand on Sherlock's arm, the four of them not slowing down in the slightest.

Clara stared at her, looking quite shocked that Tyler was the one telling her not to call the police when they were dealing with a bloody bomb, "This isn't a game," she told them sternly, "They need to evacuate Parliament."

"They'll get in the way," Sherlock rolled his eyes, "They always do. This is cleaner, more efficient," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small crowbar as they came to a stop outside a locked, grated maintenance door. Tyler carefully positioned herself so that she was blocking Sherlock from view of passing people as he began trying to force the door open.

"And illegal," John sighed, warily casting his eyes back down the hallway that they had just walked down.

"A bit," he admitted, just as the door popped open. He stepped through the door and held it open for John and the girls to follow after him, shutting it behind John.

They set off down the dark maintenance tunnel, pulling torches out of their pockets to light their path as they went, reaching a set of steps that had a railing running along it. John fell back slightly and checked his phone.

Tyler didn't even need to look back to him, her attention focused on trying not to trip, "There's no point trying that now," she remarked lightly, already knowing what he was doing. "You won't get a signal," she smirked slightly to herself.

John sighed loudly, slipping his phone back in his pocket, "Worth a shot."

They continued through the tunnel, walking along a narrow, grated walkway that had a metal railing running along the edge of a steep drop. They came across a steep metal ladder and made their way carefully down it, Sherlock going first, followed closely by Tyler and Clara, and then John. Finally, much to Clara's relief, they reached the bottom and found themselves walking down a long tunnel that opened up onto the Sumatra Road platform. Sherlock immediately began to shine his light up and down the length of the track, searching for their missing train car, but there was nothing in sight.

"I don't understand," he frowned, confused.

"Well, there's a first," Clara muttered sarcastically, glancing at him teasingly.

"It has to be here," Tyler insisted, moving until the toes of her heels were almost completely over the edge of the platform, trying to shine her torch further down each side of the track.

"There's nowhere else it could be," Sherlock agreed, casting one last look up and down the track, before sighing. He brought his hands up to his face and closed his eyes tightly, thinking hard.

Both their eyes widened as they shared a look, "Oh!" they suddenly shouted, Sherlock's eyes snapping open and he dropped his hands to grab one of Tyler's as they took off down the left side of the platform. Clara and John exchanged a quick look, hurrying after them.

"What?" John asked, feeling as if he was missing something, and judging from the rather blank expression on Clara's face, he wasn't the only one. They continued down to the end of the platform, where Sherlock leaped off, landing in the middle of the tracks. He and Clara came to a sharp stop just behind Tyler who had froze at the ledge.

"Hang on," she called to him, just as Sherlock began to head off down the train tunnel, "Sherlock?"

"What?" he paused and turned back to look up at them.

"That's... isn't it live?"

He shrugged carelessly, "Perfectly safe, as long as we avoid touching the rails."

Clara sighed, glancing back to John, "I just love his definition of 'perfectly safe,'" she commented with an eye roll.

"Of course, yeah," John said sarcastically, shaking his head, sharing her feelings, "Avoid the railings. Great!"

The blonde carefully shuffled closer to the edge of the platform, biting her lip nervously as she eyed just how far she would actually have to jump to avoid the railing, "I would be wearing heels today," she said lightly, trying hard to sound cheerful.

Sherlock sighed and took a step back, until he was level with her, "Tyler," he gave her a calming look, opening up his arms, "Jump."

"I swear, Sherlock, if you don't catch me..."

"I will, I promise. Now... jump."

She really didn't want to, after all, it would be so easy for her to slip or twist her ankle and lose her balance, but she also knew logically that she was more than capable of making the jump. She was more than tall enough to make the distance; she had her past experience to help reassure her that she not only had enough balance to be able to make the jump safely, but also the ability. But still... the idea of what could go wrong so easily frightened her, making her completely doubt herself and right now, that type of doubt was not only costing them time, but would put herself in even more danger.

She forced herself to take a deep breath and shoved all of her fear and nervousness away as she met Sherlock's eyes. He gave her a nod and she smiled faintly, knowing that he was telling the truth when he said he would catch her. She didn't think twice, she just simply leaped down. She stumbled slightly upon the landing, though it was more to do with the fact that she had practically leaped straight into Sherlock's chest, forcing them both to grab each other to prevent either of them from falling.

"Oh, God," she gasped, rather horrified that she had almost made Sherlock fall backwards. She automatically grabbed his arm and his coat as, at the same time, he grabbed her in a partial hug, "Are you..."

"I'm fine, Tyler," Sherlock cut across her, his tone calm, frighteningly so for a man who could have easily have died. He let her go and she quickly released him, too, "I told you I would catch you."

"Oh, my hero," she smirked teasingly, winking.

Clara cleared her throat loudly, making them both blink and look back up to see her and John eyeing them carefully with amused smiles, "Do you two want some privacy..." She raised her eyebrows.

Sherlock instantly lost any of the warmth and even the slight upturn of his mouth, growing serious as he looked back up to Clara, "Don't be ridiculous, Clara," he said, making it sound as if she was being a complete idiot, "Come on," he turned on his heel and began to stride off down the tunnel, not even waiting for them.

Tyler smiled to herself for a moment, before forcing the smile off her face and turning to face the other two. John waited until she had moved away before jumping, landing in the middle of the tracks. She reached out and grasped his shoulder, helping to balance him before they both turned back to Clara. She jumped down and the two of them caught her arms before she could topple over and they set off after Sherlock's retreating back.

"What's going on between you two?" John asked quietly, narrowing his eyes at Tyler.

"Nothing," she shook her head, sounding completely innocent.

"You were flirting, with Sherlock." Clara pointed out giving her friend a pointed look. 

"Just a little bit," she shrugged, seeing no point in denying it. She had been flirting, after all, "I didn't mean anything by it."

"But this is Sherlock." Clara argued. 

"And," Tyler quirked an eyebrow. 

John sighed, growing frustrated with her flippancy. He stopped, grabbing her arm, making her stop as she raised her eyebrows at him in the torchlight, "Tyler," he said sternly, "Are you and Sherlock..."

Tyler sighed loudly, "There's nothing between Sherlock and I," she told him firmly, knowing perfectly well that she was lying, or at least on her part, she was. Sherlock's part, well, she really couldn't be certain about his feelings for her yet, "I'm a natural flirt Johnny, I don't even realize I'm doing it sometimes, neither does he." She shrugged, smiling faintly, "We're just friends."

He frowned doubtfully, but still nodded as if accepting her response, "Well, I suppose you two have always liked to tease each other..." he stopped, blinking as he gave her a startled look, "Wait, you mean Sherlock flirts with you, too?"

"John! Tyler!" Sherlock suddenly called back to them, making them look down the track slightly too where they could see him standing, half shadowed, though they could both practically feel him burning holes in them both, "Clara! Come on."

John and the girls quickly hurried to catch up to him, falling into step just behind him as they continued down the tunnel.

"Are you sure we're going the right way?" Clara asked, glancing back over her shoulder towards the other track running down the tunnel behind them.

"Sure," he replied simply.

"This is the direction of Parliament House," Tyler commented thoughtfully, doing a quick mental map in her head to figure out where they were. She might not be as good as making a mental map in her head as Sherlock obviously was, but after pouring over so many maps all day, she could probably draw the map with her eyes closed.

It wasn't much further up the tunnel before their torches light lit up the missing train car on the tracks ahead of them, just around a slight bend, "Ah," John smiled, catching sight of it, "Look at that."

They continued to make their way towards the car, when Sherlock noticed something above them, staring up at it, "John," he said, drawing their attention, "Girls."

"Hmm?" he hummed as the four of them paused and looked up, only to find a massive, circular vent had been opened in the ceiling above their heads with several devices attached around the walls, connected together with long cables, "Demolition charges," he determined, shining his torch on the devices.

"Lovely," Clara muttered warily, eyeing the charges carefully.

Sherlock looked back over to the train car and set off towards it again, John and the girls following close behind him. John nervously took a deep breath and released it, trying to calm his racing heart as they approached the car, pausing to carefully check beneath it, while Sherlock shone his torch down the side it as the girls tried to peer through the windows, but there was no sign of anyone. Carefully, Sherlock moved back to the driver's cab door and opened it, opening it slowly as he checked for any tripwires as he stepped into the cab. John and the girls followed behind him as they made their way slowly into the car itself, shining their torches around as they moved along it, looking around at the seats lining the walls of the car. There was no sign of any bomb, at least, not on the surface.

John and Clara made their way down the end of the car, looking around for a moment before turning back to look down to where Tyler and Sherlock had paused in the middle of the car, Sherlock eyeing something on the wall, "It's empty," he commented, shaking his head, "There's nothing."

"Isn't there?" Sherlock said lightly, staring at the wall. Clara and John looked over to him, shining their torches at the wall that he was eyeing, only to discover that there was a pair of red and black cables running, intertwined, along the wall and down into the back of one of the seats. He bent down and gently lifted the seat cushion up, shining his own torch carefully beneath it.

Tyler looked back up to John and Clara, "This is the bomb."

"What?"

The colour drained from Clara's face, her eyes widening in horror, "You have got to be joking," she breathed.

Sherlock turned back to the seat and lifted the cushion completely off it as he straightened, exposing a set of explosives that had been wired together in a small cavity within the seat itself, "It's not carrying explosives," he said, moving along to the next seat, lifting it's cushion to reveal the same setup of explosives hidden there, too, "The whole compartment is the bomb."

The four of them began going along the rest of the car, pulling up the cushions of each seat, only to find that every single one had explosives hidden within them. The entire car was rigged to the brim with explosives, every single seat.

Tyler swallowed, sitting one of the cushions down on the floor as she had lifted it up, finding more explosives hidden beneath, "Well..." she began quietly, looking quite shaken as she glanced back at Clara and the boys, "I'll give Moran this; he sure does go all out, doesn't he?"

Sherlock quickly cast his eyes around the car, frowning thoughtfully as he took a step back over to the middle of the car, when he glanced back down at the floor where there was a slightly loose panel. He tapped it with the toe of his shoe, before quickly kneeling down beside it and slipping his gloves off, reaching down to lift the panel up with his fingertips, revealing a massive bomb beneath it with cables running right under the car. Clara and John stared down at it, John breathing hard as Clara pressed a hand against her mouth, closing her eyes tightly.

"We need bomb disposal," John said after a long moment, looking back across to Sherlock, his face almost as pale as Clara's.

"We don't have time," Tyler shook her head, dropping down next to Sherlock. 

Clara shifted nervously on the spot, glancing back down to the bomb in the middle of the floor, "So what do we do now?" She asked hurriedly, trying hard to stay calm.

Sherlock released a long sigh, "I have no idea," he admitted after a moment, finally looking back over to them. 

John closed his eyes and blew out a breathe, before his eyes snapped open and he suddenly turned to Tyler, who blinked, startled, "Any bright ideas?" he said urgently to her.

"Me?" Tyler very nearly gaped at him, looking shocked that he would be asking her, "I know nothing about bomb disposal..."

"You used to be engaged to a terrorist who used to get his kicks by strapping bombs to people, you have to know something!"

"You think we just plotted evil scheme's together," She looked at him like he was crazy. "We just talked about wedding plans, and our future, and how to disengage bombs, the usual." 

Clara looked almost frantically back over to Sherlock, "Well, one of you has to think of something," She told them sternly, shifting nervously again on the spot.

Sherlock frowned at her, glancing at Tyler, who looked completely lost as to what to do. He turned back to Clara, "Why do you think either of us knows what to do?" he questioned, confused.

"Because you're Sherlock Holmes and Tyler Jackson, you're as clever as it gets together."

"That hardly means we know how to defuse a bloody bomb," Tyler shrugged, making both John and Clara grow frustrated with how calm they were both being. "Why don't you ask your boyfriend, he was in the army." 

"I wasn't in bomb disposal," John said in a forced voice, struggling to maintain his composer, "I was a bloody doctor."

"And a soldier," Sherlock pointed his torch at his face, rolling his eyes, "As you keep reminding us all."

John looked back down at the bomb, eyeing the timer that was frozen at 2:30 minutes on top of the device, "Can't- can't we rip the timer off, or something?" he suggested, slightly breathlessly.

"That would set it off," he replied, shaking his head.

"He's right," Tyler agreed, bitting her bottom lip worriedly as she eyed the bomb, "It's a built in fail safe. Any attempts to tamper with it will only set it off."

"You see?" John's head suddenly snapped back up, looking between the two of them, "You know things, you both do."

Sherlock sighed heavily and turned away, just when all the lights in the car suddenly flickered and powered on, lighting up the entire car as they stared around in shock and alarm.

"Oh my God..." Clara gasped, jumping back slightly as she looked down at the bomb to see the clock's timer start up, ticking down. She frantically looked around, desperately trying to think of how they could get out of this one as John groaned loudly.

"Uh..." Sherlock quickly turned around, looking quite panicked.

"My God!" John shouted up at the ceiling, breathing fast as Sherlock began pacing, frantically trying to think.

"Why didn't you call the police?" Clara breathed angrily, glaring over at Sherlock.

"Please, just..." he began, still pacing as he ran a hand down his face.

"Why do you never call the police?" She snapped furiously.

"Everyone shut up!" Tyler suddenly snapped, raising her two fingers on each of her hands to her temples as her eyes scanned the bomb. 

Clara and John just blinked, actually looking quite startled by the fierce and determined look in her eyes; even Sherlock was looking over to them with a mildly surprised expression. 

She took a deep breath and turned back to the blonde, swallowing hard as she met her eyes, "Sorry," She muttered, and Tyler nodded.

John glanced back down at the bomb to find the timer now reading that they only had 2:15 minutes left, his eyes travelling back over to land on Sherlock and then Tyler, "So you can't switch the bomb off?" he stared at him, struggling to keep his tone in check, for Tyler's sake, "You can't switch the bomb off and you didn't call the police," he turned away briefly, unable to look at him any longer.

"Go..." Tyler said softly and all eyes fell on her. "You should all just go. Go." She urged them, his voice soft, almost pleading.

Clara frowned at her, shocked by the mere suggestion, "We can't just leave you!"

"Clara..." she began.

"No," She cut her off, her expression hard. "Dear Lord above you are the biggest moron I've ever met. Even if we could possibly leave in time before this thing goes off..." she waved her hand around at the car, shaking her head, "our lives aren't the only ones that are at risk here. And there's no way in Hell I'm leaving you here to die." The timer ticked down to 1:57 minutes as Tyler stared back at Clara, looking as if she had never seen her before.

"Mind Palace," John said suddenly, pointing at Sherlock.

"Hmm?" Sherlock hummed, his head snapping over to him.

"Use your Mind Palace."

"I don't follow," Tyler frowned, looking confused as she glanced between the two of them. What use would that be right now?

"How will that help?" Sherlock asked, seeming just as confused.

"You've salted away every fact under the sun!"

"Oh, and you think I've got, 'How To Defuse A Bomb,' tucked away in there somewhere?" he exclaimed, gesturing widely.

"Yes!"

Tyler looked quickly to Sherlock, shrugging, "It's worth a shot," she commented quickly.

Sherlock paused for a moment, looking as if he was thinking very carefully as he glanced back to John, "Maybe," he nodded, and closed his eyes, pressing his fingers against the side of his head. 

"Think," John encouraged him, his voice growing softer, "Think. Please, think."

"Come on, Sherlock," Clara breathed, clutching her coat tighter in her hands, desperately hoping, "Come on."

"Think!"

Sherlock groaned loudly and suddenly opened his eyes, breathing heavily as he dropped his hands from his head, looking back across to John and the girls, his expression apologetic.

Clara's eyes widened, actually taking a small step back as it hit her, the truth of it all came crashing down onto her, "You don't know, do you?" she said quietly, her voice strained. He looked at her for a moment, his mouth thinning into a tight line as he nodded, confirming her worst fear.

"Oh my God!" John gasped, turning away, shaking his head. Sherlock whipped off his scarf and doubled over the bomb next to Tyler for a moment, holding his head in his hands, before he dropped down onto his knees by the edge of the bomb. John walked further down the car as Clara turned away, her head ducked as she struggled to even know how to react right now with so many emotions swirling around inside her, "This is it," he murmured, realisation hitting him.

"Um, er..." Sherlock frantically reached into the bomb, uselessly searching around it for anything, anything at all that might be able to stop it. That's when he saw it, the button. He glanced over at Tyler curiously who raised a finger to her lips as she clicked it, glancing over at Clara and John who were too busy freaking out to notice. 

Clara sank onto the seat, running her hands down her face. John stared off into space, his back still turned on them, "Oh my God," he whispered breathlessly.

"Turn that off," Sherlock mumbled, still desperately fiddling around by the bomb, and Tyler was a little impressed with his acting skills. "Oh God! Er, um, er..." he ducked his head, the frantic noise of him moving around the bomb growing silent.

Tyler let out a steadying breath as she looked up at the two of them, and Clara was shocked to see tears in her eyes, "We- we can't. Forgive me, please." Her eyes finally found Clara's as she straightened. 

"What?" Clara hissed furiously, glaring at her.

"Please, Clara, forgive me..." she pleaded. "For everything I did to you." 

"No, no, no, no, no, no," she pointed a stern finger at the blonde, "This is a trick."

"No."

"Another one of your bloody tricks!"

"She's telling the truth," Sherlock spoke up making the brunette snap her gaze to him. "We can't do anything. This bomb is going to go off." 

"Oh, God." John groaned, his hands latched together behind his head. 

Clara swallowed, looking away from them both for a moment, before turning back to them with his expression tight, "You're just trying to make me say something nice."

Tyler laughed very slightly, shaking her head, "Not this time."

"It's just to make you look good even though you behaved like..." she trailed off, grimacing as she fought back tears, scrunching up her face. She let out a steadying breath as her hands came up to wipe her cheeks, "I wanted you to not be dead, more than... anything."

"Careful what you wish for," Tyler gave a grim smile. "If I had died on that roof, you... all of you would still have a future."

"Yeah, I know," She cut the blonde off turning to look back at John who met her eyes and she could see the same fear and worry reflected in his eyes. She let out a heavy sigh as she turned to look back at Tyler, "Know... knowing you and- and fighting crimes with you has been some of the best years of my life." She paused, sniffing tearfully, "you are my best friend," she lowered her head again, releasing a hard breath as Tyler looked up at her. "Yes, of course I forgive you, you stupid..." She broke off, raising a hand to her mouth. 

Tyler's lips broke out into a small smile as she nodded at the brunette. Clara gave a small timid nod back as John came up and took her hand, waiting for the bomb to go off...

~*~

Tyler sat on an old brown sofa in Anderson's small, rather shabby flat, staring directly back at the video camera that was set up before them. Anderson was sitting behind the camera, staring back at her with wide, slightly manic glint in his eyes. He had been rather shocked to discover the detective standing on his doorstep for no apparent reason, but what had really made him pause was when she agreed to let him question her while he recorded the interview.

After the blondes death, he had, well, gone completely off the rails and had become completely obsessed with trying to find proof that Tyler was still alive, going so far as to form his own group of like minded people, calling it 'The Empty Hearse'. Getting the chance to question the detective about how she had managed it all and she had been the last two years had been his biggest dream, but he had never quite imagined that it would actually happen. The rest of his group were going to be so amazed, he couldn't wait for them to see.

Tyler settled comfortably into the sofa, her hands clasped together in her lap and her legs crossed, "What you must first understand is that there was vital events that occurred well before my apparent death," she began, her voice calm and steady, her eyes looking directly down the camera lens, "Jimmy's criminal organisation was huge, it stretched out across the entire world. Its roots were everywhere, like a cancer. So, I came up with a plan."

"Jimmy had already made his first mistake," she continued, the corner of her mouth lifting very slightly, "Two days before Christmas of 2010, he payed me a little visit. I won't go in to detail of what we spoke of, but it was enough for me to know I had to do something. So I went to my sister, Bree, and Mycroft. I told them everything, every last detail and, together, we began to form a plan in secret."

"Mycroft began feeding information about me and my new life here," She said, her eyes fixed on the camera, "Moriarty, in turn, gave us hints, just hints, as to the extent of his web. We let him go, because it was important to make him believe that he had the upper hand. And then I sat back and watched Moriarty destroy my reputation, bit by bit," she turned back to the camera, "I had to make him believe he'd beaten me, utterly defeated me and then he'd show his hand."

"There were thirteen likely scenarios once we were up on that roof. Each one of them rigorously worked out and given a code name. It wasn't just my reputation that Moriarty needed to bury, I had to die," she frowned slightly, and Anderson noticed a tinge of sadness enter her eyes."But the one thing that I hadn't anticipated was just how far Moriarty was prepared to go."

Regardless of everything that Jim had done, she still grieved for him, even now, she had truly loved him and she doubted if she would ever stop grieving for him. He had been a part of her and even now, despite how much she changed from the girl who fell in love with James Moriarty, it still felt like there was tiny part of her that was missing. 

She blinked out of her own mind and looked back to the camera "I suppose that it was obvious, given our first meeting at the swimming pool," she continued on with his side of the story, acting as if nothing had happened, "His death wish. I knew I didn't have long. I contacted Mycroft and my sister, set the wheels in motion for the Lazarus plan to be initiated. And then everyone got to work. It was vital that Sherlock and John were delayed in traffic which is where Bree came in. I knew that if Sherlock was there to see the death, not just the after math, he would know it wasn't real. And he, more than anyone, needed to believe it was real."

"But what was even more important was that Clara saw only what I needed her to see, that she stayed just where I put her, that way, her view was blocked by the ambulance station, her attention focused entirely on me on the roof. While she was distracted, my helpers moved an airbag into position in exactly the spot that I would fall, but I also needed to buy time in order for the airbag to be inflated. So... I spoke to her, until the moment was right. I needed to hit the airbag, which I did. Speed was paramount. The airbag needed to be out of the way just as Clara cleared the station. But we needed her to see a body. That's where Molly came in. Like figures on a whether clock, we went one way, Clara went the other. Then our well timed cyclist... put Clara briefly out of action, giving me time to switch places with the corpse on the pavement," she shrugged, "The rest was just window dressing. And one final touch, a squash ball under the armpit. Apply enough pressure and it momentarily cuts off the pulse."

Tyler looked back to the camera, the corner of her mouth raising as Anderson stared at her, looking rather stunned, "We had the entire thing planned out," she remarked, shrugging, "Every single possibility had been considered and allowed for, nothing could possibly have gone wrong. It worked... Perfectly."

Anderson frowned slightly, "Molly?" he said, blinking, "Molly Hopper, she was in on it?"

"Well, you were bound to get a bit of your theories right," Tyler said lightly, the corner of her mouth twitching. Anderson gave her a startled look, making her smile widen, "Yes, of course I read them on your little website. I must say, there certainly was quite a few about Jimmy being alive still and we were secretly married," she laughed, shaking her head. "I read at least five of them on the cab ride over here."

She looked back up to Anderson, who was looking a little pink, "Yes, Molly played a key role," she told him, getting back on track, "You remember the little girl who was abducted by Jimmy?" she asked him, raising an eyebrow as Anderson looked slightly guilty, "You assumed she reacted that way because I was her kidnapper. But I figured Jimmy must have found someone who looked very much like me to plant suspicion, and that, that woman, whoever she was, had to be got out of the way as soon as her usefulness ended. That meant there was a corpse in a morgue somewhere that looked just like me."

Anderson nodded slowly, "Clever."

"Molly found the body, faked the records, and I took one of Sherlock's coats to plant on the body. He's got lots of coats."

"And what about the sniper aimed at Clara?" Anderson questioned, frowning slightly.

"Well done," she smiled slightly; surprised he remembered that little detail amongst the rest of the story. Perhaps she really hadn't given him enough credit, "Mycroft's people stepped in before he could take the shot. He was... invited to reconsider."

He reached up to rub his forehead, "And Sherlock's homeless network?"

"Oh, they were more than happy to help, closed off the whole street," Tyler reminded him, smiling slightly, "Like a scene from a play," she raised her eyebrows expectantly as Anderson simply stared back at her, looking thoughtful, "Neat, don't you think?"

He looked away from them, "Hmm..." he hummed, making Tyler frown slightly in confusion.

"What?" She asked, confused by his reaction. 

He still didn't look at her, shrugging his shoulders, "Not the way I'd have done it," he commented, shaking his head.

"Seriously?" Tyler stared at him, unable to quite believe what she was hearing. Hadn't he practically begged her to tell him how she had done it and now he was just going to criticize her method? She would have loved to see him try and plan it out; she highly doubted that he could have done it any better. 

"No, I'm not saying it's not clever, but..."

"What?"

He shrugged again and frowned, waving a hand around in front of him, searching for the right words, "Bit... disappointed," he said after a moment, finally looking back to them.

"You can't satisfy anyone these days," Tyler shook her head, rolling her eyes. Honestly Anderson really was one of the most impossible people, even more so, perhaps, then Sherlock. You tell him exactly what he wants to hear and it's not good enough. You just can't win sometimes. She sighed, focusing back on to Anderson, growing serious, "But we didn't just come here to tell you our story," she said, her tone growing firmer.

Anderson blinked; looking almost worried now, "No?"

"No," Tyler agreed, fixing him with a stern look, "I think you know why I'm here, Ash."

"Anderson."

"Whatever." She waved him off. "'How I Did It,' by Jack the Ripper?" She raised her eyebrows, "Ring any bells?"

His eyes widened and he opened and closed his mouth for a moment, before ducking his head, nervously toying with the cuff of his jumper, "Didn't you think it was intriguing?" he looked back up to her hopefully.

"Lurid,"  Tyler corrected, uncrossing her legs and standing. "A case so sensational, you hoped Sherlock and I would be interested," she put her hands in her pockets, casually walking over towards his chair, "But you overdid it, Anthony, you and your little 'fan club," she sneered at the last two words, strolling around his chair.

"I just couldn't live with myself, knowing I'd driven you, Tyler to..." he trailed off, unable to finish that sentence.

"But you didn't. You were always right, I wasn't dead. Quite frankly, I'm impressed," Tyler admitted, fixing Anderson with a small smile. She was surprised; she would never have imagined that it would be Anderson that would be the one to figure out that she was still alive, she had her money on Sherlock. And though she knew he had his suspicions, she also knew he had given up on trying to prove it and find her and let himself believe she as really dead. She supposed he found it easier. 

"No," Anderson looked quickly back up to the detective, his expression brightening as he looked at her, "No, and everything's okay now, isn't it?" 

"Yeah," Tyler said, smiling as she continued to circle his chair. Anderson laughed slightly, looking deeply relieved. She stopped suddenly, looking back to him as her smile slipped off her face, "Of course you've wasted police time," she said lightly, making Anderson blink, "Perverted the course of justice, risked distracting me and Sherlock from a massive terrorist assault that could have both destroyed Parliament and caused the death of hundreds of people."

"Oh, God!" he gasped tearfully, breaking down, "Oh, God, I'm sorry, Tyler," he reached out and grabbed Tyler's coat, pulling her closer as he began weeping into the fabric, "I'm so sorry," he cried as Tyler could only stand there, staring down at him in completely mortified.

"Um, please, don't," she said awkwardly, not quite knowing what to do as she tried to pry him off. "I'm sure it won't be that bad, I mean, Lestrade doesn't know who was behind the mock crime scene, there's no reason for him to know that it was you..." she trailed off.

"Thank you!" he sobbed gratefully, "Thank you, I don't deserve... hang on," the tears stopped almost as fast as they had started and he lifted his head from her coat, frowning. His face was bright red and slightly wet, but he suddenly appeared to be very focused as he looked past her to where he had an entire wall covered in paper and notes. He let go of her and stood while the detectives could only stare at him, completely bemused as they watched him step over to the wall, "That doesn't make sense," he frowned up at the wall as, behind him, Tyler rolled her eyes and sighed as she pulled her coat straight, shaking her head in mild exasperation, "How could you be sure Clara would stand on that exact spot?" he went on, "I mean, what if he'd moved?" slowly and quietly, She crossed the room and left, completely unnoticed by Anderson, "Hey, how did you do it all so quickly? What if the bike hadn't hit her?" he narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "And anyway, why are you telling me all this?" he laughed slightly, shaking his head, "If you'd pulled that off, I'm the last person either of you would tell the truth..." he turned around, only to find the room empty.

Outside, on the street, Tyler stepped out onto the pavement where Sherlock was waiting for her, just as the sound of hysterical, manic laughing sounded down the hallway to them, coming from Anderson's flat. "I think I broke Anderson." Tyler told him with a slight frown. 

"Let's go and get some cake," Sherlock said randomly, seeming completely unconcerned as he adjusted his scarf around his neck. He smirked very slightly at her, "I'm positively starving."

She smiled, unable to help herself, shaking her head at him, "Not a big fan of cake, more of a pie girl myself." 

~*~

Clara waited with her eyes tightly shut, her heart racing frantically in her chest as she stood in that train car and waited for it to explode, for them to all die. She gripped John's hand, taking a deep breath, when laughter echoed throughout the car. Her eyes snapped open, only to find Sherlock staring up at her and John as he giggled. Tyler was biting her lip, but when her eyes meet their's, she suddenly bust into guilty sniggers that she desperately tried to stop by covering her mouth, but it really wasn't helping. John stared at them both, confused as he took a step towards them, only for his eyes to fall onto the timer on the bomb. It wasn't moving, just simply flickering between 1:28 and 1:29.

"You little-" Clara broke off, turning away from the three of them. 

"You..." John began, unable to believe it as he turned away from them as they laughed.

Sherlock stood, giggling to himself, near hysterically, "Oh, your faces!" he pointed at them, gleeful tears running down his face.

"...utter..."

"Utterly priceless!" Tyler shook her head, grabbing the edge of a nearby seat, almost doubled over on the floor as she laughed. How could she possibly not laugh? She did have a sense of humour, after all, though she was a bit worried John would have a heart attack or Clara would try to kill her again. She didn't know which one she was more worried about. "Oh, I'm sorry, guys, but..." she trailed off, giggles overcoming her again.

"Your face!" Sherlock cheered, still laughing.

"You..."

He grinned broadly as Tyler pulled herself onto her feet, smiling widely, as she tried wiping the makeup off from beneath her eyes, "I totally had you," she smirked smugly at John and Clara

"You bastard!" Clara finished for him, as she whirled around, glaring furiously. "And you!" She suddenly turned to Tyler. "You..."

"Let's not call each other names, now," Sherlock said with a guilty smile, holding up his hands in surrender. 

"You went along with it! Oh, I knew it! I knew it! You f..."

"Oh, those things you said, such sweet things!" Tyler continued, still grinning, speaking over the top of her, "I never knew you cared."

She glared at them both, pointing a warning finger, "I will kill you both if you ever breathe a word of this..."

"Not a word," Tyler promised, forcing herself not to smile or laugh.

Sherlock held up two of his fingers, shaking his head, still smiling, "Scout's honour," he assured her  

"You knew!" John snapped at the detective. 

"Of course I knew," Sherlock shrugged, looking over at Tyler with an amused smirk. 

John looked between the two of them, "You knew how to turn it off!"

"There's an off switch," Sherlock cut in calmly, looking back up to him.

John blinked, confused, "What?" he moved closer to the bomb, frowning.

"You have to have an off switch with a bomb," Tyler smiled very slightly, kneeling down by the bomb and pointing to where a small toggle switch was on the side of the bomb, just slightly out of sight. Unless you knew where to look, you would have found it tricky to find it, "It's a failsafe, Johnny, otherwise terrorists can get into a bit of trouble."

"So why did you make us go through all that?" Clara demanded, her voice tight, trying hard to maintain her composer.

"We didn't lie altogether," Sherlock told her very seriously, his eyes flickering over to Tyler briefly, "I've absolutely no idea how to turn any of these silly little lights off," he laughed, turning away to wipe his eyes.

"Oh, look who finally joined the party," Tyler remarked, smiling broadly as she caught sight of something moving towards them down the train tunnel through the open driver's cabin door.

John followed her gaze to see the beams of flashlights moving along the tunnel towards them, the distant noise of walkie-talkie radios echoing through the tunnel. He shook his head, pointing at the lights, "And you did call the police," he huffed, annoyed.

"Technically, I did that," Tyler informed him, earning a frown from John, "I called them before we came down here, just to be safe," she sighed slightly, glancing at Sherlock, "I mean, I had to get Clara to forgive me somehow." 

Clara looked away from them, closing her eyes briefly, "I'm definitely going to kill you."

"Oh, please," Sherlock slowly smirked, glancing down his front, "Killing Tyler, that's so two years ago."

The four of them looked at each other and slowly laughed, though Clara still hadn't quite forgiven them yet. She sighed and shook her head, her and John following them as they began to head for the cabin door.

~*~

The next day Tyler couldn't help but sigh slightly as she stood by the living room windows of Baker Street, carefully peering down to the street were several reporters and photographers were waiting outside on the pavement, some even milling about in the road. They were waiting for them to make their first proper and official debut, and to hear about them preventing a terrorist attack from very nearly destroying one of the most important buildings in the city. Tyler really wasn't looking forward to it and, judging from the small frown on John's face as he stood beside her, neither was he. In fact, the only real reason for why she had dragged herself out of bed that morning, was because they were having a small welcome back party at Sherlock's place. She couldn't exactly hide in her room while everyone was upstairs just for her, not if Clara had anything to say about it. Mrs Hudson, Lestrade, Clara, and John had already arrived, leaving just Molly and her finance to turn up.

She had finally said yes to Sherlock about moving in here and had hired some people to get her things out of the flat next door, which Janet had said she was grateful for. Not that Tyler could blame her, she wouldn't want to be stuck with a room full of some dead girl's things. Needless to say most of the room had been surprised by the decision. And John had even pulled her aside to ask her if she was suffering from smoke inhalation. 

John shook his head slightly at the sight of the reporters below, before glancing at Tyler, who sighed slightly, "I'll get him," she said, knowing already what he was about to ask.

Tyler smiled at Mrs Hudson as she began to make her way through the living room, the older woman happily chatting away with Clara, the older woman sitting on a chair while Clara leaned towards her from her seat on the sofa. She made her way through the kitchen and down the short hallway to Sherlock's open bedroom door, finding the man himself smiling gleefully with his phone pressed against his ear. She lightly knocked her knuckles against the door frame, drawing his attention to her.

"Sherly, we have to go down soon," she told him, sighing heavily, "I'm afraid we don't have much of a choice, the press are going to be beating down the door unless we tell them the story soon."

Sherlock released a long, suffering sigh and nodded, switching his phone off, "In a minute."

"How's Mycroft handling 'Les Miserable?"

He smirked, giving her a pointed look that made her laugh. That look pretty much said it all. Together they made their way down the hallway and through to the living room, Sherlock snagging a bottle of champagne as they made their way through the kitchen. He uncorked it as they stepped into the living room, making his way over to pour it into a glass that was sitting on the coffee table.

"Oh, I'm really pleased, Clara" Mrs Hudson smiled happily at Clara, looking quite excited, "Have you set a date?"

"Uh, well, we thought May," Clara replied as Sherlock passed Tyler a glass of champagne, which she gratefully took and sipped.

"Oh!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed brightly, nodding, "Spring wedding!"

"Lovely time of year," Tyler smiled at her, lowering her glass as Sherlock began pouring another glass. 

"Yeah," Clara nodded, before pausing, "Well, once we've actually got engaged," she glanced over to John, who was pulling his jacket on, preparing to head down stairs.

"Yeah," John agreed.

"We were interrupted last time," she looked pointedly to Tyler, though she didn't seem to be too overly annoyed or upset about it.

"Whoopsie," She smiled at Clara.

"Well, I can't wait," Lestrade cut in from where he was sitting in John's old chair. He smiled and lifted his glass in a toast, making John look back to him with a broad smile.

Sherlock didn't even bother to take a sip of his drink, simply sitting it back down on the coffee table and making his way across the room to look out the far window, turning his back on them all. Tyler shook her head and carefully perched herself on the edge of the coffee table, sitting her glass down beside her.

"You will be there, Sherlock?" Clara said to him, eyeing him carefully. Tyler had already made it very clear that she couldn't have been happier for them; she had even offered to pay for them to have a proper honeymoon, something that neither of them had been surprised that she had offered them. 

"Weddings..." Sherlock made a face, "Not really my thing," he glanced back over to them and playfully winked at Clara, making her and Tyler smile.

Clara leaned over towards Tyler, "I don't think he realizes we know he's not as cold hearted as he wants us to believe." 

"Nah, he's just a big softie." She agreed, tapping her glass to Clara's getting them both to laugh. 

The living room door opened, drawing their attention over to it. "Hello, everyone," Molly called cheerfully as she stepped into the room.

"Molly!" Clara smiled broadly, lifting her glass to her in greeting.

"Hey, Molly," John greeted her, moving back slightly from the doorway to let her move further into the room.

"This is Tom," Molly said, just as a young man moved into view of the doorway. John and the girls all blinked, staring at the man in shock, before meeting each other's eyes. Tyler could only shake her head, just as stunned as John and Clara. Molly didn't seem to notice anything, smiling brightly as she looked around the room, "Tom, this is everyone."

"Hi," Tom gave them a little wave, smiling a little awkwardly as everyone looked at him.

"Amazing..." Clara breathed to herself, unable to take her eyes of the man. He and Sherlock could have easily have been brothers, if not twins. Tom was tall and slime, with a similar build as Sherlock, his curly brown hair was slightly shorter then Sherlock's, but he still had prominent cheekbones and pale blue eyes. They even dressed alike with Tom wearing a dark coat, his collar turned up, and a grey and black scarf tied in the same manner as Sherlock's around his neck. She supposed she ought to have known that Molly would end up falling for a near clone of Sherlock, but even still, what was the chances of her actually finding a guy like this? She couldn't decided whether or not she ought to feel impressed or a little concerned that Molly was taking her feelings for Sherlock a tad far.

Lestrade looked at Tom and blinked slightly, "Hi," he said awkwardly, seeming to notice the similarities, too.

"It's really nice to meet you all," Tom told them happily, before turning to John, who was closest, "Hi."

"Wow," John tried to give himself a shake, "Yeah, hi. I'm John," he introduced himself, holding out his hand and shaking Tom's, still staring at him with a funny expression on his face, "Good to meet you."

"I'm Tyler," She leaned over to shake his hand, fixing a smile on her lips. 

Clara stood and fixed a smile onto her face, moving to shake Tom's hand, too, "Hello, lovely to meet you," she began; trying hard to focus on what was different about the man's face from Sherlock's. It was starting to frighten her how alike they were, "I'm..."

"Clara Hudson!" he cut her off, looking excited as he shook her hand excitedly, "Molly's told me all about you. I should have known".

"And you, it's like looking at..." she quickly cut herself off, realizing that her mouth had run away with her for a moment. John was biting his lip and giving her a warning look, so she hurriedly smiled again and released Tom's hand, "It's just wonderful to finally meet you," she went on quickly, glancing at Molly, but she didn't seem to have noticed anything, nor had Tom, thankfully, "Molly," she glanced at her, "You never said how handsome he is."

Thankfully, for Clara, Sherlock choose that moment to finally turnaround from the window, "Ready?" he asked.

"Ready," John nodded, casting Tom another quick look.

Tyler smiled, "Ready when you are."

"Oh, please," Clara muttered, closing her eyes briefly. She couldn't believe that she had almost slipped up like that; it surely had to be the shock kicking in. She never usually had an issue keeping her mouth shut about that sort of thing.

Sherlock began to make his way over to them, smiling slightly at Lestrade as he passed by him, but the smile completely slipped off his face and he came to a sharp stop when he caught sight of Tom, his eyes widening in shock. Slowly, his eyes traveled up and down the other man, while Tom seemed quite taken aback himself.

Lestrade stood and picked up the champagne bottle from the coffee table, looking over to Molly and Tom, "Champagne?" he asked them, breaking the awkward silence that had settled over the room.

"Yes," Molly nodded, still seeming to be completely oblivious as to what was going on right beside her.

Sherlock's mouth dropped open very slightly, staring at Tom, before glancing at John and the girls. They gave him a small smile, Clara giving him a pointed look and nodding very slightly back to Tom. He closed his mouth and slowly reached out to shake hands with Tom, before glancing quickly at Molly as he walked between the couple and headed out the door. Tom watched him go.

"Thanks," Molly said as Lestrade handed her a glass of champagne.

John and the girls began to follow after him out the door, but John paused and eyed Tom for a moment before Clara sighed, lightly nudging him forward before anyone could notice. They continued on their way out onto the landing, Clara shutting the door behind her. She paused and gave herself a shake, before turning to see Sherlock looping his scarf around his neck.

"Did you, uh...?" John trailed off, looking to Sherlock as he pointed back at the living room door.

"I'm not saying a word," Sherlock said quietly.

"Wise," Tyler nodded, glancing quickly back at the door, "Very wise, indeed," she looked back to Sherlock and smiled faintly seeing him glance down at his tied scarf, only to sigh and lift up his hand in exasperation.

John cast another look at the door, before turning back to Sherlock, "I'm still waiting," he said to him with an expectant expression, buttoning his jacket.

"Hmm?" Sherlock hummed, looking back up to him.

"Why did they try to kill me and Tyler? If they knew you and Tyler were on to them, why go after me, as well? Why not just go after Tyler, put her in the bonfire instead of me?"

"I don't know," Sherlock admitted, looking away from them, his expression growing hard, "I don't like not knowing," he grabbed his coat from where he had it draped over the banister, folding it over his arm as he turned and heading off down the stairs. John and the girls followed behind him, "Unlike your nicely embellished fictions on your blog, John, real life is rarely so neat," he commented, pausing at the bottom of the stairs to pull his coat on, "I don't know who is behind all this, but I will find out," he glanced back to meet Tyler's eyes, recalling just how shaken she had been over the entire ordeal. He briefly reached out and touched her am, making her blink slightly in surprise, "I promise you," he said firmly.

She smiled faintly, covering his hand, "Thank you, Sherly," she said softly, before forcing herself to let him go.

John nor Clara seemed to notice anything, or if they did he pretended not to. Clara turned to Tyler with a small smile on her face, "Don't pretend like you aren't enjoying this," she told the blonde. 

"Hmm?"

"Being back here. Being a hero again."

"Oh, don't be stupid," she shook her head, sharing a knowing look with Sherlock."

John shook his head, "You'd have to be an idiot not to see it. You two love it".

Sherlock finally turned back around to face him, "Love what?"

John shrugged, stepping closer to them, "Being Sherlock Holmes and Tyler Jackson," he replied, making Tyler laugh and shake her head.

He frowned slightly, "I don't even know what that's supposed to mean," he gave him a look as he turned and began to head off down the entrance hallway, pulling his gloves on as Tyler trailed right behind him, reaching up to flatten her hair in preparation for what was to come next.

"Tyler," Clara called from behind them, her and John still standing in the same spot, watching her carefully, "You are gonna tell me how you did it?" she said to the blonde, making her pause with her back to them as Sherlock turned to look at her curiously, "How you jumped off that building and survived?"

Tyler looked over at Sherlock before returning her attention in front of her, "I'm Tyler Jackson. I'm too extraordinary to be dead." 

"You wish," Clara muttered, giving him an amused look, though Sherlock looked at her in shock that quickly melted into a knowing look. 

"I'm actually quite curious myself," Sherlock turned to her with a rare look of puzzlement in his eyes. Though, he always had a hard time deducing her. "You were dead. I went to your grave."

"I would hope so."

"I spoke to you." 

"Yes, I know," she said softly, glancing over at him with big Hazel eyes. 

"I asked you not to be dead."

"I was there." She told him, although she knew he had already figured that out. "I heard you." 

They stared at each other for a long moment before Sherlock took a deep breath, "Anyway," he turned back around to face the door and clapped his hands. He glanced back at John and Clara then to Tyler, "Time to go and be Sherlock Holmes and Tyler Jackson," he smiled slightly.

"It's good to be back," Tyler laughed, grinning broadly. In a way, it really did feel like she was home again, being back here at Baker Street with Clara and the boys, just as it was meant to be.

Sherlock took a step towards the door, when he paused and grimaced slightly, reaching over to where someone had left his deerstalker hanging on the coat rack by the door. He put it on his head and adjusted it into position, but what really surprised Tyler was when he reached up to pull his scarf from around his neck and turned to her, lopping it around her neck without even pausing to ask her for permission.

"Sherlock, what..." she blinked, startled as she stared down the blue fabric already warming her neck.

"Just like the old days," he shrugged, giving her a quick smile before offering her his arm, which she slowly smiled and linked her arm through his, stepping outside together to be faced by the flashing of camera lights and shouts of reporters. Clara quickly looped her arm through Johns just the same and followed after them.

Together, the four of them faced down the reporter's questions, because when the four of them were together, they could face down just about anything.