Tyler was curled up on her desk chair, typing away on her computer her lips pulled into a tight frown and a crinkle in her forehead. She heard a knock at her bedroom door, but didn't care to respond. The door opened and Clara stood in the archway, looking around the room then at the blonde, "I was going to-" She broke off when she noticed what Tyler was doing. "I recognize that look."

"What?" Tyler mumbled, her concentration still on the screen.

"You're writing another book," Clara broke out in a bright smile as she dropped onto the edge of the blonde's bed. "You get that look on your face like you just started your period." Tyler shot her a deflated look as she closed her laptop, getting a loud laugh from the brunette. "Am I in this one."

"You weren't in the last one," Tyler retorted and Clara narrowed her eyes. "What did you want?" She asked, purposely avoiding the question.

Clara rolled her eyes knowing she'd be able to find out when she read the manuscript before she sent it to the publisher, "nothing, Sherlock wanted us to come over. He said he's bored." She told her, mimicking the dark haired detectives voice when she said 'bored'. Tyler nodded, getting up to grab her shoes and coat. "Do you have time for this?"

Tyler looked back to see her pointing to the screen, "they gave me a car." She admitted. It was this really nice car that she was never going to use and now she felt like she owed them another book.

Clara smirked, "nice, who?"

"My publisher." Tyler sighed, slipping on her trench coat. "Now I feel like I owe them another book."

"So, don't write another book," Clara said like it was that simple. "Fight the power." Tyler tossed her a look, laughing softly.

Finally they headed over to Sherlock's, the door was unlocked and they came into the living room to see him lying face down on the couch. Tyler took a seat on John's chair which was usually occupied, or at least it was when John wasn't out on a date with Sarah, which he happened to be that night, leaving her and Clara to sit at home with Sherlock. Maybe going on a date with someone was starting to look a little more appealing. Though the last person to ever take her out on a date was a psycho killer, and that was when she was one herself.

"Bored," Sherlock let out a long suffering sigh from where he was lying with his face buried in the sofa's cushions, muffling his voice.

"Oh, really? I hadn't noticed," Clara remarked, she grabbed a book off Sherlock's shelf and dropped into his usual chair with it. James Patterson, she adored all of his books, and he had probably been one of the reasons why she had first wanted to go into detective work, "If you're really so bored, Sherlock, then why don't you do something about it?"

"Such as?"

Tyler looked up from her lap, breaking out of her thoughts, "What about reading a book?" she suggested.

He scoffed at her, "Like yours?"

"Yes," She smirked at him, only just managing to stop herself from glaring at him.

"I've read it already."

Tyler looked at him shocked, then over at Clara who smirked, "oh," was all she could get out.

"How about watching something on TV?" Clara offered.

"Boring!"

Clara shut her book just a tad too sharply in her frustration, putting it down on the armrest before she marched over to the table were John's laptop was sitting, still turned on from earlier that day when Sherlock had been snooping around on it, and typed something in, "You need a case, Sherlock," she muttered, still appearing to be quite frustrated, "Something that will hopefully keep you from annoying me to the point where Tyler and I will have to solve your murder!" Tyler chuckled at that.

"Okay, here we are," Clara said after a moment, frowning slightly as she looked at the screen before shaking her head and unplugging the laptop, practically shoving the computer into Sherlock's hands as he rolled onto his back, ignoring the look he sent her before he turned his attention to the screen. Tyler got up herself and came over to check the screen.

'Barry Berwick - I need your help. Been arrested for murder in Belarus. People reckon you get people off. Family got money. They pay anything'.

"Absolutely shocking grammar," Sherlock remarked, narrowing his eyes at the screen.

"Yes, well, some people do struggle when it comes to grammar," Clara sent him a small frown as she settled back down in the chair she had perversely occupied, "But at least it's a case."

"Hmm, I've never been to Belarus," he commented, typing something, looking vaguely thoughtful.

"Neither have I, but I've heard that it's quite cold around this time of year." Tyler added.

"I'll have to contact the British Ambassador to get his details..."

Tyler raised her eyebrows, smiling slightly, "So that means..."

Sherlock stood suddenly from the sofa, his dressing gown billowing behind him as he marched out of the room, off towards his room, "Pack your bags!" he called back to her before she could finish, "We leave for Belarus tomorrow morning."

"Who said we were going?!" Clara called back, frowning slightly. Sadly, she was ignored. Typical.

~*~

"Just tell us what happened from the beginning," Sherlock told Barry Berwick, not appearing to be overly interested to hear what the man had to say in the first place from where he and the girls were sitting across the table from Barry, steam from their breath rising in the cold air of the slightly damp room that they were sitting in, surrounded by empty seats and tables with only the light from the small windows to light the room.

It was three days after Clara had first shown Sherlock and Tyler the message that he had been sent to his website asking for his help, and after seeing if John would join them, they got the earliest plane that they could to Minsk, Belarus and left London.

"We'd been to a bar..." Barry began explaining to them as Tyler snuggled closer into her thick, black trench coat, struggling to keep herself warm, "A nice place... and -er, I got chatting with one of the waitress. And Karen weren't happy with that, so when we got back to the hotel, we end up having a bit of a ding-dong. Don't we?" Sherlock heaved a loud sigh, glancing at Tyler then Clara and back again to the man as he continued, "She's always getting at me, saying I weren't a real man..."

"Wasn't a real man," Sherlock corrected him.

"What?" he frowned at him, looking confused.

"It's not 'weren't,' it's 'wasn't'," Tyler specified.

"Oh."

"Go on," Clara told him as she noticed Sherlock quickly losing the little interest that he had in the first place.

"Well, then I dunno how it happened, but suddenly there's a knife in my hands. And, you know, me old man was a butcher, so I know how to handle knives..." Sherlock glanced down at the man's hands, taking note of them, "...he learned us how to cut up a beast..."

"'Taught'," Tyler corrected him, unable to stop herself from doing so.

"What?" Barry frowned, starting to get irritated by them both interrupting him and correcting what he was saying.

"Taught you how to cut up a beast," Sherlock told him, sounding bored.

"Yeah, well, then- then I done it..."

"'Did it,'" both Sherlock and Tyler corrected.

"Did it!" Barry suddenly snapped, slamming his hand down on the table over and over again, "Stabbed her. Over and over and over, and I looked down and she weren't..." Sherlock sighed, turning his head away in annoyance, "Wasn't moving no more..." he turned his head to the left, "Any more," the man corrected himself as Sherlock turned back to face him, "God help me, I don't know how it happened, but it was accident, I swear."

Sherlock pushed back his chair, causing the sound of the metal dragging across the concrete floor to echo loudly around them, slipping his hands inside his coat pockets as Tyler and Clara followed suit.

"You've gotta help me, Mr Holmes, Miss Jackson!" Barry called after them frantically, making them pause. Clara puffed out her bottom lip as he didn't specify her, but quickly brushed it off. "Everyone says you're the best. Without you two, I'll get hung for this."

"No, no, no, Mr Berwick," Sherlock replied pleasantly as he glanced back over his shoulder towards the man, a smirk slowly spreading across his face, "Hanged, yes." And with that, he and the girls turned and strolled out.

The next day after Belarus found Sherlock just as insufferable as before the trip as he complained about being bored once more as he sat in the living room of Baker Street, dressed in his blue dressing gown as he sat in his chair by the fireplace, his head titled back as his arm dangled over the armrest, holding a gun.

Tyler and Clara stepped in the living room, stopping short as they caught sight of the gun. They shared a look and Clara shook her head, not really surprised as she walked across the room and settled down in John's chair, picking up her half-finished book and began reading, hoping that she may be able to actually finish it without any interruptions. She really should have known better. Tyler shrugged off her coat and threw it over the back of Johns chair before busying herself with making some Tea.

Sherlock turned his head to look over to the wall behind the sofa, over to where he had spray-painted in yellow paint a big smiley face before looking away, raising his arm, aiming the gun at the face, shooting at it just as the sound of the front door opening and closing downstairs sounded.

"Sherlock!" Clara shouted, dropping the book as she quickly covered her ears, wincing from the sound, "how about a warning next time, yeah?"

The sound of footsteps could just be heard over the gunfire as John came running up the stairs and through the living room door, "What the hell are you doing?" He demanded loudly, uncovering his hands as Sherlock stopped shooting.

"Bored," he replied simply.

"Oh, believe me, we know," Tyler grumbled, coming out of the kitchen and uncovering her ears, looking annoyed.

"What?" John frowned at him, lowering his voice to normal level.

"Bored!" Sherlock jumped to his feet, the girls and John quickly covered their ears again, knowing what was coming next.

"No..." Clara groaned.

Sherlock fired his gun at the wall, "Bored!" he shouted, swinging his arm around his back and twisted slightly as he fired again, "Bored! Bored!" he brought his gun back around to his front as John hurried forwards and grabbed the gun off him, quickly sliding the clip out of it as Sherlock walked over towards the sofa, "I don't know what's got into the criminal classes," he commented, sounding sulky, "Good job I'm not one of them."

"So, you take it out on the wall," John shot him a look as he moved over to the table off to the side of the room, putting the pistol safely away in in the small safe, locking it away.

Sherlock ran his fingers across the smiley face, "Ah, the wall had it coming," he replied as he fell sideways onto the sofa with a dramatic flair.

"Of course it did," Clara remarked, rolling her eyes as she picked her book up, sighing as she noticed that she had accidentally crumpled the front cover from when she had dropped it to cover her ears, settling it on the armrest of her chair.

"What about the Russian case?" John asked as he slipped his jacket off.

"Belarus, open and shut domestic murder," Sherlock told him, not bothering to look over to him, "Not worth our time."

"Ah, shame," John said sarcastically, walking into the kitchen only to stop short as he caught sight of the mess of Sherlock's home lab equipment littering the surface of the kitchen table, only just managing not to say something as he moved passed the mess and towards the fridge, "Anything in?" he called back to the living room, "I'm starving..." he opens the fridge door, quickly closing it again, "Oh, f..." he leaned against the fridge, breathing heavily before opening it again to make sure that he really had just seen what he thought he had staring back at him, "It's a head," he breathed, closing the door and turning back to the living room, calling, "A severed head!"

"Just tea for me, thanks," Sherlock replied calmly.

"No, there's a head in the fridge," John said as he stepped back into the room, looking slightly pale.

"Have you not looked in his fridge the whole time you've lived here?" Tyler asked, turning in her spot to see he was actually shocked. She remembered there being an arm before, a jar of eyeballs, and even some fingers.

"It's a bloody head!" John exclaimed. Clara turned in her seat to see if he was serious, swallowing hard at the thought. She made a mental note to note go anywhere near that fridge until she was sure it had a proper cleaning.

"Well, where else was I supposed to put it?" he glanced around at him, "You don't mind, do you?" he asked, not seeming to see what all the fuss was about as John glanced back over towards the fridge, shaking his head hopelessly, "I got it from Bart's morgue. I'm measuring the coagulation of saliva after death," he waved tiredly over towards John's laptop, "I see you've written up the taxi driver case."

"Uh, yes," he nodded, dropping down in Sherlock's chair as he cast one last glance towards the fridge.

"'A Study in Pink,'" Sherlock quoted the title, "Nice."

"Well, you know, pink lady, pink case, pink phone, there was a lot of pink," he glanced over at him and then at the Clara and Tyler who was standing behind the chair the brunette was sitting in as Sherlock picked up a magazine from the coffee table while he's speaking, "Did you like it?"

"Um... no," Sherlock told him, opening the magazine.

"I thought It was very good, John," Clara smiled at him, shooting Sherlock a small glare, "Very nicely written."

"Ah, thanks," John smiled at her before frowning over at Sherlock, "Why not?" he asked him, "I thought you'd be flattered."

"Flattered?" Sherlock lowered the magazine and glared at him, "'Sherlock sees through everything and everyone in seconds. What's incredible, though, is how spectacularly ignorant he is about some things...'"

"Sherlock," Clara sighed, running a hand down her face, knowing that John was quite proud of his blog.

"Now, hang on a minute, I didn't mean that..."

"Oh, you meant 'spectacularly ignorant' in a nice way," Sherlock interrupted him, rolling his eyes, "Look, it doesn't matter to me who's Prime Minister..."

"I know..." John muttered, looking away as Tyler coughed, covering up her laugh.

"Or who's sleeping with who..."

"Whether or not the Earth goes around the sun," Tyler coughed loudly, giving him a pointed look.

"Not that again," Sherlock sighed, pressing his hands to his eyes, "It's not important."

"Not impor-" John straightened in his chair and turned himself so that he was facing Sherlock, "It's primary school stuff. How can you not know that?" he shook his head at him.

"Well, if I ever did, I've deleted it," he replied, still pressing his hands to his eyes.

"'Deleted it?'" Clara frowned at him.

"Listen," Sherlock sat up from the sofa, turning around to face them as he pointed to his head, "This is my hard drive, and it only makes sense to put things in there that are useful... really useful," he shook his head, grimacing slightly, "Ordinary people fill their heads with all kinds of rubbish. That makes it hard to get at the stuff that matters. Do you see?" he looked at them.

John bit his bottom lip, glancing over at Clara, struggling to contain himself before he gave in, "But it's the solar system!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, Hell!" he groaned loudly, burying his head in his hands, looking as if he was only just stopping himself from pulling out his hair, "What does it matter?" he demanded, looking back up, clearly very frustrated, "So we go around the sun! If we went round the Moon, or round and round the garden like a teddy bear, it wouldn't make any difference," Tyler raised her eyebrows, wondering why he would remember a children's nursery rhyme of all things rather than an actual, general fact, "All that matters to me is the work. Without that, my brain rots," he ruffed his hair before glaring up at John, "Put that in your blog. Or better still, stop inflicting your opinions on the world."

"Sherlock!" Clara glared at him angrily as he shoved the magazine away from him, across the coffee table before curling up on his side, facing away from them, "I know that you're frustrated but there's no reason to take that out on John!"

John stood from his chair and walked back over to where he left his jacket, "Where are you going?" Sherlock frowned, glancing over his shoulder as he heard him stand up and walk around.

"Out," John told him firmly, pulling his jacket on as he made his way towards the living room door and out towards the stairs, "I need some air."

"Oh, sorry, love!" Mrs Hudson laughed slightly as she made her way up the stairs just as John was going down them, stepping onto the landing as she tapped lightly on the open living room door, "Ooh-ooh!" she smiled warmly at Tyler and Clara, who returned the smile, "Hello, Tyler, Clara dear."

"Grams," Clara greeted her warmly, standing up and taking the green shopping bag she was carrying, "Here, let me take that for you."

Tyler got up to help as well, casting a look over at Sherlock, frowning at him as he kept his back towards them, "Sherlock's having one of his moods, again."

"Thank you, dear," the older woman smiled at the two of them again, letting the girls take the bag as she wondered off into the kitchen before glancing at Sherlock, "Have you had a little domestic?" she asked him as he struggled to pull himself upright before he stood, standing on top of the coffee table and walking over it, and walking over to the left-hand window, peeking out down to the street below around the edge of the lace curtain, "Ooh, it's a bit nippy out there," she commented as she moved into the kitchen, helping the girls to put some of the shopping away, "He should have wrapped himself up a bit more."

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Tyler reassured her as she finished putting away a couple of items and stepped back into the living room, sitting back in John's chair this time. Clara standing beside her.

"Look at that, Mrs Hudson," Sherlock remarked from the window, staring down at the street as he watched John walk off down the street and away from his view, "Quite, calm, peaceful," he grimaced as if it was something horrible, taking a deep breath, "Isn't it hateful?"

"Hmm, simply horrific," Tyler nodded sarcastically as she rested her chin on the palm of her hand, her elbow on the armrest, "I have no idea why we're still living around here."

"Oh, I'm sure something'll turn up, Sherlock," Mrs Hudson told him, pulling the shopping receipt out of her pocket and waving it at him from the kitchen before putting it down on the kitchen table, "A nice murder. That'll cheer you up," she walked back into the living room, heading towards the door with her shopping bag in hand.

"Can't come soon enough," he muttered, sounding almost wistful.

"Hey!" She stopped as she caught sight of the painted smiley face on the wall and the bullet holes, "What have you done to my bloody wall?" she gasped as Sherlock smirked to himself, spinning around to admire his work, Clara simply shook her head while Tyler laughed, "I'm putting this on your rent, young man!" She told him angrily before turning and storming back downstairs.

"Well done, Sherlock," Clara sighed as she stood, stepping over to the coffee table as she picked up the magazine he had cast aside earlier and flickered through it, still standing, "You've managed to drive John out of the flat, earn yourself some extra rent, and make me question ever eating over here again all in five minutes. You've outdone yourself."

"Don't you have your own flat to be in?" Sherlock shot her a look.

"But, if we leave who else will you have to run off," Tyler smiled sarcastically at him. Sherlock didn't say anything, merely choosing to look at his smiley face, grinning in an almost scary clown like fashion at it before sighing and turning away from it when a massive explosion went off suddenly from somewhere outside, knocking him and the girls to the floor, making him groan loudly.

~*~

Tyler winced as she stood in front of her bathroom mirror as she took in the cut just below her left eye, ending just before it reached her hairline going on a diagonal line across her cheek bone. She had received it when the explosion had caused her to hit the floor and she had hit her face on the corner of the coffee table. Luckily, it wasn't very deep and she had been checked over by one of the paramedics that had attended the scene of the explosion, had it cleaned up, and a bandaged over it, but it still hurt.

She shook her head and quickly looked herself over. She was dressed in a light blue blouse that she paired with a pair of dark skinny jeans, boots that came to just below her knees, and she had left her hair out, clear lip gloss, and blue nail polish. In her ears, she had a pair of diamond earrings and around her neck was a pearl drop necklace.

She turned away from the mirror and stepped back into her adjoining bedroom, grabbing her black coat off her bed before walking out of the room, down the hall, and into the kitchen/living room, sighing slightly as she took in all the glass and bits of brick, thick dust covering the entire room on every surface from the explosion that had blown out both windows. The entire place looked terrible and there was going to be quite a clean-up later on.

"Oh, this is gonna make a dent in my pay check." Clara muttered, taking in the wreckage and catching Tyler's attention.

She was dressed on a light blue blouse with a white jumper over top that she paired with a dark tan pair of skinny jeans, her Tan Timbs, and she had pulled her hair up into a ponytail showing off the cut above her right eyebrow and her busted lip. She also had in gold feather earrings, eyeliner, mascara, and peach nail polish.

Casting one last look at the mess, they turned and headed through the door connecting their and Sherlock and John's flat with each other, just as John's voice echoed up through the staircase as he came running up, "Sherlock! Clara! Tyler!" he called, sounding slightly worried, "Sherlock! Tyler..." he trailed off as he spotted Tyler standing on the landing, just about to step into the living room, "Oh, good," he said in relief before frowning in mild concern, he hurried over to her and pushed her hair out of her face. "What happened to your head?"

"Oh, it's nothing," Tyler waved his concern away, lightly reaching up to touch the band aid, "I just hit it against the corner of the coffee table, I didn't even need stitches."

"You've had it checked and cleaned?" He asked, going into doctor mode.

"Yes, and yes," she nodded, smiling assuredly at him, "I'm fine, Johnny. Really." She turned and stepped into the living room.

That's when John noticed Clara and his eyes widened, "what happened?" He asked, both of them were bruised up, he could only imagine what Sherlock looked like.

Clara sighed, shaking her head, "explosion. I think it was a gas leak." She began to explain as she headed into the living room, John following to see Sherlock sitting in his armchair, looking perfectly fine and completely unharmed, fully dressed in his usual black dress trousers, plum coloured shirt, and black dress jacket as he glared at John's normal armchair were Mycroft was sitting, absently plucking the strings of his violin.

"John, Girls," he said, glancing up at them. Tyler's eyes then fell to where Bree was standing near the chair Mycroft was in, texting away on her phone. Her eyes flicked up like she could feel the eyes of her little and she smirked causing Tyler to roll her eyes.

"I saw it on the telly," John told him, "Are you alright?" he asked him, still appearing to be in doctor mode.

"Hmm? What?" he glanced back over to the mess of broken glass and scattered paper work, seeming to have forgotten about it, "Oh, yeah. Fine. Gas leak, apparently," he turned back to his brother, still fiddling with his violin, "I can't."

"'Can't?'" Mycroft repeated, raising his eyebrows at him as Tyler came up to stand beside Sherlock's chair, resting on the arm rest.

Clara draped her coat over the armrest of the sofa before sitting down on it, having given up trying to find somewhere that wasn't covered in dust.

"Stuff I've got on is just too big. I can't spare the time."

John and Clara looked over at him, raising their eyebrows at his complete and utter lie as John unzipped his jacket and pulled it off. "Never mind your usual trivia," Mycroft told him, "This is of national importance."

Sherlock strummed the strings loudly, "How's the diet?" he asked him, almost in a mocking tone.

"Fine," he gave him a firm look before glancing over to John and Clara, "Perhaps you can get through to him, John, Girls?"

"Wishful thinking, Mycroft," Tyler commented, smiling slightly as she glanced at Sherlock.

"What?" John frowned, sounding confused as he looked away from where he had been examining the damage the blast had caused to one of the windows, eyeing how they had been bordered over.

"I'm afraid my brother can be very intransigent," Mycroft smiled slightly.

"If you're so keen," Sherlock raised his eyebrows at him, "Why don't you investigate it?"

"No, no, no, no, no," he quickly said, shaking his head, "I can't possibly be away from the office for any length of time. Not with the Korean elections so-" Bree cleared her throat loudly and he looked at her, trailing off quickly as Sherlock, the girls, and John all turned to him, "Well... you don't need to know that, do you?" he smiled at them, clearly trying to cover up his near slip, "Besides, a case like this," he grimaced in clear distaste, "It requires... legwork."

Sherlock seemed to let his finger slip as he plucked another string, looking irritated by his brother's remark as he glanced over to John, watching him as he absently rubbed the back of his neck, "How's Sarah, John?" he asked him, "How was the lilo?"

"Sofa, Sherlock," Mycroft corrected him, not even looking up as he checked his pocket watch, "It was the sofa."

Sherlock glanced over at John again, looking him up and down, "Oh, yes, of course."

"How..." John stared at Mycroft, quickly trailing off as he shook his head, knowing better then to ask, "Oh, never mind."

"You have a girlfriend?" Bree asked, suddenly speaking up.

John turned to look at her like he seemed to just notice her, "Uh, yeah," he chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his head. "Well, I-I mean, it's nothing serious. Only a couple months. It's been awhile, uh, Bree was it? How- how have you been?"

Bree smirked at how nervous he got, "good," was the only response he got. Clara narrowed her eyes slightly, looking between the two of them with suspicious eyes.

"Sherlock's business seems to be booming since you, him, and the girls became... pals," he smirked at them as Sherlock shot him a dark look, "What's he like to live with? Hellish, I imagine."

"We're never bored." Clara said.

"That's one way to describe it," Tyler remarked, looking slightly amused as she glanced over at her.

"Good," Mycroft smiled again, "That's good, isn't it?" he stood and held out a file towards Sherlock, waiting for him to take it as he held up his violin bow in front of him, giving him a stubborn look, making his brother grimace at him before turning and walking over to John and Clara, holding out the file to them, "Andrew West, known as Westie to his friends," he began explaining as John shot Sherlock an almost startled look as he took the file, "A civil servant, found dead on the tracks of Battersea Station this morning with his head smashed in."

Clara glanced at the file, taking it, opening it and quickly scanning the pages, "Jumped in front of a train?" John guessed.

"Seems the logical assumption
"

John smiled slightly, "But...?"

"But?"

"Well, you wouldn't be here if it was an accident," Sherlock smirked, laughing slightly as he looked up from where he was running a piece of cloth over his bow.

"How very true, Johnny," Tyler smiled, looking amused by his remark before she went back to scanning the file.

"The MoD is working on a new missile defense system," Mycroft continued, pointedly ignoring their remarks, "The Bruce-Partington Program it's called. The plans for it were on a memory stick."

"That wasn't very clever," Clara commented, laughing slightly as she looked up at him. Sherlock and Tyler smiling slightly in agreement.

"It's not the only copy," he told her.

"Oh."

"But it is secret. And missing."

"Top secret?" John echoed.

"Very," Mycroft nodded in confirmation, "We think West must have taken the memory stick. We can't possibly risk it falling into the wrong hands," he cast Sherlock a stern look before glancing at Tyler, "You've got to find those plans, Sherlock, Tyler," he focused on Sherlock, "Don't make me order you."

Sherlock took a deep breath, raising his violin to his shoulder and preparing to play, looking up at his brother calmly, "I'd like to see you try," he told him, a challenging tone in his voice.

Mycroft leaned closer towards him, "Think it over," he told him, smiling at him as Sherlock merely raised his eyebrows as he turned away from him and offered his hand to John, "Goodbye, John, Clara," John quickly stood and shook his hand, giving him a strange smile. He shook Clara's hand next and she gave him a polite smile, "See you very soon," he then turned to Tyler, holding out his hand again as she took it and shook it, "And, you too, Tyler, it was very nice to see you again."

Tyler raised her eyebrows at him as he walked back over to his chair to grab his coat, just as Sherlock began playing a series of very loud, screeching notes on his violin until Mycroft and Bree walked out of the room and downstairs, the front door opening and closing behind them before he finally stopped.

"Why did you lie?" John asked him as he sat back down on the coffee table, making sure Mycroft really had left before speaking, "You've got nothing on... not a single case. That's why the wall took a pounding," he gestured over to the wall behind him, "Why did you tell your brother you were busy?"

Sherlock shrugged at him, "Why shouldn't I?" he asked, using the bow of his violin to scratch the back of his head.

"Oh!" he nodded slowly, realizing something, "Nice," Sherlock glanced at him, narrowing his eyes slightly as Clara looked at John curiously, wondering what he had realized, "Sibling rivalry. Now we're getting somewhere." Clara coughed, struggling to stop herself from laughing.

That's when Tyler's phone began to ring. She frowned, looking confused as she reached inside her pocket and pulled her phone out, answering it, "Tyler Jackson," she spoke into it, listening for a moment, "Of course. I'll tell them," she clicked the phone off, slipping it back inside her pocket as she pulled on her coat, "Lestrade," she told the other three, "he wants us all to come down."

"All of us?" John echoed as Sherlock stood to put his Violin away.

"Of course," Tyler replied as Sherlock slipped on his coat. "Come on," and with that, they turned and walked down stairs.

Once they arrived at Scotland Yard, they were quickly met by Lestrade and followed him up towards the floor he worked on and towards his office, "You like the funny cases, don't you?" he glanced back at Sherlock, Tyler, Clara, and John, looking slightly amused, "The surprising ones?"

"Obviously," Sherlock replied, rolling his eyes at him.

"You'll love this," he glanced back at them, "That explosion..."

Sherlock exchanged a quick glare with Donovan as they passed her desk, "Gas leak, yes?"

"No."

"No?" Tyler repeated, frowning as she exchanged similar looks with Sherlock.

"No," Lestrade nodded as they stepped inside his office, Sherlock immediately spotted a envelope sitting on a table and walked over to it, staring down at it, his mind buzzing as he looked at it, "Made to look like one."

"What?" John asked, looking confused.

"Hardly anything left of the place except a strong box, a very strong box and inside was this," he pointed over to the envelop as Tyler stepped over to the table to take a look herself, taking note of her name scrawled across the front of it in neat writing.

"You haven't opened it?" Clara glanced at him.

"It's addressed to Tyler, isn't it?" he shrugged slightly, watching as the blonde reached for it, "We've X-rayed it," he added, "It's not booby-trapped."

"How reassuring," the dark haired man said sarcastically.

Tyler picked up the envelop, walking over to lamp that was sitting on another table, holding it close to the light as she carefully examined it, "Nice stationary," she remarked after a moment, turning it over in her hands, "Bohemian."

"Interesting," Clara remarked thoughtfully.

"What?" Lestrade asked, looking over at him, frowning slightly.

"From the Czech Republic," Sherlock replied, glancing over at him from where he was standing behind Tyler, "No fingerprints?"

"No," he shook his head.

Sherlock snatched the envelop from her and he lifted the front of the envelop closer to his eyes, carefully examining the side with Tyler's name scrawled across it, "She used a fountain pen," he commented, "A Parker Durfold... iridium nib."

"'She?'" John repeated, raising his eyebrows.

"Obviously."

John sighed, struggling to stop himself from rolling his eyes, "Obviously," he repeated quietly, shaking his head and sharing a glance with Clara.

Tyler snorted, sending him a slightly amused look before snatching the envelop back just as he did to her. She smirked at him as she picked a letter opener up from off the desk and carefully slit the envelop open. She blinked slightly in surprise as she reached inside and pulled out an IPhone, a pink IPhone, the very same one from the 'Study in Pink' case.

"But that's..." John's eyes widened, along with Clara's as they caught sight of the phone, "...that's the phone, the pink phone."

"What, from the Study in Pink?" Lestrade asked, craning his neck to try to look over at Tyler holding the phone.

"But that's not the original, is it?" Clara remarked as she eyed the phone.

"No," Tyler agreed as she took in the fresh scratches and indents. "But, someone's certainly trying to make it seem like it is, though..."

"'Study in Pink?'" Sherlock suddenly cut in, turning to look at the man, just as Donovan walked into the office and sat a couple of files down on Lestade's desk, "You read his blog?" he gestured at John, who rolled his eyes.

Lestrade grinned at him, looking slightly amused, "Course I read his blog!" he replied, "We all do," he raised his eyebrows at him, "D'you really not know that the Earth goes around the Sun?"

Donovan sniggered loudly as Sherlock glared at her, John and Clara exchanged looks, both unsure whether they should laugh or wince at the glare Sherlock was giving her, before she left the office.

"It isn't the same phone," Sherlock confirmed as he took the phone from the blonde and turned his attention back on the pink phone in his gloved hands, turning it over. Tyler narrowed her eyes at him, his snatching was beginning to get irritating. "This one's brand new," he turned it on its side and examined the connection plugs, "Someone's gone to a lot of trouble to make it look like the same phone, which means your blog has a far wider readership," he cast John a look, who avoided his eyes before he touched the screen on the phone.

"You have one new message," a female voice alerted them before a set of five beeps played.

John frowned, exchanging slightly confused looks with Clara, "Is that it?" She asked.

"No," Sherlock shook his head, still focused on the screen, "That's not it."

He turned the phone sideways as they gathered closer around him to get a look at the screen to see a picture of an old, empty looking room with only a fireplace with a mirror sitting on the mantel, appearing not to have been touched in years, going by the state that the old, peeling wall paper was in and the bare floorboards.

"What the Hell are we supposed to make of that?" Lestrade asked, frowning at the picture, glancing at John and Clara, "An estate agent's photo and the bloody Greenwich pips!"

Tyler didn't say anything for a moment, staring thoughtfully off into the distance, "It's a warning," she replied.

"A warning?" John questioned.

"Of what, exactly?" Clara asked, looking curiously at Tyler.

"Some secret societies used to send dried melon seeds," Sherlock began explaining, looking back at them, "Orange pips, things like that. Five pips," he glanced back down at the phone, "They're warning us it's going to happen again," he frowned thoughtfully at the picture before handing the phone back to Tyler as he walked towards the door, "I've seen this place before."

"Hang on," John and the girls followed after him, "What's gonna happen again?"

Sherlock turned back around, lifting his arms up in a dramatic gesture while still walking, "Boom!" he called back to them.

"Brilliant," Tyler sighed, exchanging a look with John and Clara.