UH?!?! WHAAAAAAT?!?!?! A SHERLOCK FANFICTION!?! NO WAY?!

ALAS MY DARLINGS IT IS TRUE. THIS MY SERLOCK BBC FANFICTION THAT I HAVE BEEN WRITING RECENTLY AND IT IS FINALLY TIME TO SHARE IT WITH THE WORLD!

CUE THE APPLAUSE

ANWAY, UPDATES WILL NOW BE WEDNESDAYS AND SATURDAYS!

READ ON!

Trailer Up Above ^^^

Tyler Rose Jackson was a pretty blonde with, short bleached locks that fell down to her shoulders and bright Hazel eyes, with tiny specks of Gold in them when in the right lighting. She had on a light blue blouse, a grey half vest that tied around her neck, dark skinny jeans, a black trench coat and black ankle boots. Her hair fell down straight, her lips tinted pink, and a pair of diamond studs sat in her ears.

She hurried through the busy airport looking for her best friend who was coming back from Guatemala. She was already running late after a few experiments kept her up into the late hours of the night. She barely heard Ms. Hudson knocking this morning, trying to wake her up for the cab she'd ordered for the young blonde.

She came to a stop at the arrivals boards and let out a heavy sigh as the entries flickered in and out of sights, changing positions and times. She rolled her eyes, "broken. Of course it's broken." She turned to let her eyes scan the crowds for anyone who looked like they were getting back from Guatemala.

Tanned. LA.

Tag says Brazil.

South Africa.

She let out another sigh of annoyance when she didn't spot anyone right away. Instead she headed up to the desk where one of the customer service agents was standing, typing away on his computer. "Excuse me, sir-" He simply held up a finger.

She tapped her fingers against the top of the counter impatiently, watching him with careful Hazel eyes. "Sir, I just need to know," Again he held up a finger and Tyler felt her anger build up.

She scanned him over quickly. Dyed roots, obviously trying to impress someone. Wedding ring; married 5 or so years. Faint hints of two different perfumes. Lipstick smudge on the collar of his shirt. Water proof phone. She rolled her eyes, "Sir, I think you want to head home. Your wife is about to discover some very incriminating emails on your computer."

He looked up at her wide eyed before pushing out of his desk and taking off running. She smirked in satisfaction, tapping her hands on the desk. She was just about to head around to the computer to figure out the flight times herself when a voice spoke up behind her.

"Please tell me you at least tried excuse me first."

Tyler's eyes widened at the sound of her best friends voice and spun around, "Clara!" She smiled widely pulling brunette into a hug.

Dr. Clara Hudson was a pretty brunette with curly, short locks that reached down passed her shoulders. She had dark brown eyes, that resembled pools of chocolate when she looked at you. She had on a knitted white jumper with a pair of light jeans, an army green coat, and a pair of Timbs on her feet. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail - save for her bangs that swept across her forehead, and silver studs in her ears.

She had just been in Guatemala for the past three months, as a Forensic Anthropologist she traveled all around the world identifying bones.

"Welcome back. How was Guatemala? Was it horribly hot? Did you visit any of the Volcanoes? Ooh, or their Rain forests, they're really pretty. Did you know that the Instant Coffee process was actually invented in Guatemala."

"Great. Most definitely. No. No. I know. And no, I didn't know that." Clara listed off to each of her questions ending with a shake of her head as the two of them began making their way to the exit where Tyler had a cab waiting for them.

"How boring." Tyler puffed out her bottom lip.

"I was literally neck deep in cadavers, I didn't have any time to see the sights."

Tyler gasped, her lips breaking out into a smile, "less boring." That got a laugh outta Clara. Tyler's smile faltered slightly as she watched her, she was smiling but not as bright as she used to. She and her boyfriend Greg had broken up the week before she left. Her and Greg Lestrade had, had a short relationship for a few months when it seemed like him and his wife were finally going to go through with their divorce. They broke up when Greg decided to give it another try with his wife. It was messy to say the least. "You know what you need, a nice messy murder to solve."

Clara glanced over at the blonde with a knowing look, "what is it now? What did I miss?"

"Glad you asked," Tyler smiled. "Three suicides. Jeffery Patterson, James Phillimore, and Beth Davenport. All killed themselves the exact same way."

"So, you don't think it's suicide?" Clara questioned.

"Of course not," Tyler looked at her like she was crazy. "I thinks it's murder. I love serial killers, they're always so interesting." She stopped when she felt eyes on her and turned to see Clara giving her a pointed look. "Bad?"

"Pretty bad." Clara nodded, but laughed anyway.

That's when Tyler suddenly stopped and whirled back around to face a tall, dark skinned man she had noticed following her. "Why're you following us?" She narrowed her eyes in distrust.

Instead of answering he reached for the blonde woman's arm, his first mistake. Tyler was quick to grab his wrist and twist it to the side, giving her an opening to bring her knee up into his stomach. He doubled over and Tyler clasped her hands together, bringing her fists down on his back. He fell forward and she grabbed his arm again, holding it up and she used her foot to hold him down - face down - against the tile.

"Ma'am I'm gonna need you to step away," one of the several officers who had run over during the attack said to Tyler.

Tyler shook her head at them, "he attacked me."

"I'm Homeland security." The man groaned out and Tyler's mouth made a perfect 'O'.

Clara was the one to step in, smiling sweetly at the officers, "this was just a little misunderstanding."

"You can put your guns down," Tyler told them, raising her hands in surrender and backing away from the large man she had taken down.

His pride hurt, the man hurried to his feet and fixed his uniform, "is she in charge now? You only put your guns down when I say you can." He turned his hard gaze back on Tyler and nodded at the bag she had in the crook of her elbow. "Hand over the bag."

Tyler rolled her eyes, "is that what this is about?" She handed over the bag, tapping her foot against the tile impatiently. The man opened the bag and pulled out another one - this one a large Ziploc that held a severed arm in it. "Boo." Was all Tyler said and the man jumped, dropping the bag containing an actual human arm.

That's what brought Tyler into the holding room, sitting there with the Homeland Security officer and a second agent while she waited for Clara to call Lestrade to come clear her name. "I am Tyler Rose Jackson. I'm a Private Detective for Scotland Yard and that arm is part of one of my investigations." She only half lied. That arm was apart of a body that was recently booked for cremation and she wanted to run an experiment on bone decay. Having a Forensic Anthropologist as a best friend made her all the more curious about the human bone system.

"Most people in this situation, what they do is, they sweat it." He said seriously.

"I'm a Private Detective for murder cases. How are you scary after that?" She challenged, her eyebrows shooting up in question.

"You know who doesn't sweat it?" He challenged and Tyler simply gave him a prompting look.

"Sociopaths," The second agent, this one a female, answered.

Tyler sat back, her lips threatening to break out in a smirk, "I've been called worse."

"And you claim to work for Scotland Yard?" The female officer asked getting a nod from the blonde. "You know, maybe I'd believe you if you had an I.D. of some sorts on you." Tyler rolled her eyes. "You were illegally carrying human remains and you assaulted a Homeland Security agent."

Tyler heard the door open behind her, but didn't care enough to look back. She knew it was Lestrade and Clara. "Look, I'm sorry if I embarrassed you in front of your friends but, next time you should identify yourself before attacking me." Now she turned in her seat to look back at her best friend and the man she had called in. "So nice of you to finally join us, Greg, Darling." She smiled sweetly at him.

Lestrade simply shook his head, used to this by now, "Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade, Scotland Yard. Tyler is a Private Detective who helps us out sometimes." Tyler turned a taunting smile back to the Homeland Officer as Lestrade handed him her book.

'The Illation Gene'

It was a book she wrote about two girls who take down this organization of hit men that was ran by one of the most dangerous men the world had ever scene. The main characters being based off her and Clara. It was a best seller.

The officer looked the book over quickly and sighed, "Fine. She's all yours."

Tyler stood up and pulled her bag over her arm, "let's go Clara." She called to her friend.

Lestrade frowned at the Homeland Security officer, "really, no paper work, nothing?" He frowned, usually he'd need more than just a book to identify the blonde when she got herself into situations like this. It definitely wasn't the first. "Ooh, you!" He turned quickly to face Tyler with accusing eyes. "You set me up."

The officer looked from Lestrade to Tyler sheepishly and handed her, her book, "I love this book." She simply smiled and tucked it back into her bag.

"I should've known." Lestrade turned and stalked out the door.

The two girls shared a look before hurrying to follow after him. "You set all this up?" Clara whispered as they hurried after the older man.

"Of course I did. You want to work the case or not?"

Clara let out a short laugh, shaking her head, "you're incredible." She muttered sarcastically.

"It's been said." Tyler bounced her shoulder at the brunette and jogged to fall into step with the D.I.

"That's the best you can do?" He began ranting as soon as he noticed they'd caught up to him. "Have a Homeland Security Officer snatch you up so I have to come in and rescue you. This has to do with the Suicides, don't it?"

"Three suicides, all the exact same way - you can't tell me you really believe that. Even your not that stupid Greg." Tyler shook her head at him. She knew he was slow, but she had a little more faith in him.

"She has a point." Clara backed her up and Tyler gestured to the brunette with a pointed look.

Lestrade sighed as he held the door open for them and shook his head, "i'll admit they're similar-"

"Similar?" Tyler cut him off, her eyes wide. "Down to the last detail."

"There's no evidence of foul play." He shrugged helplessly. They were still investigating it, but as of now there was no evidence of this being a serial killing.

"Let us take a look then," Clara offered, she knew without a doubt that if they got a chance to take a look into it they'd find something that would at least start the murder case.

"I'll tell you what," he stopped at their cab to face the two young women. "We get another one that seems a little weird I'll give you a call, until then there's nothing I can do." He pulled open the door for them and smiled. Tyler looked at him exasperated, only getting into the car when Clara did first.

The cab took them back to their home at 221A Baker Street. Clara had owned the decent sized apartment ever since she moved out of her parents home when she turned 18 and her Grandmother rented it out to her. Two years ago Tyler moved in with her when they met on a case. Clara identified bodies for Scotland Yard whenever they found a body that they were unable to identify through DNA or facial recognition. There was this one case two years ago, a guy had murdered his wife when he figured out she was a call girl, that Tyler had wormed her way into and the two clicked instantly.

Mrs. Hudson was waiting for the two women in their flat with Tea and Biscuits sitting on the table. "Grams." Clara smiled broadly, tenderly pulling the old woman in for a hug.

"Oh, Clara," She gushed. "How was your time in Guatemala?"

"It was nice, but I'm glad to be back in gloomy London."

"Oh, I bet," Mrs. Hudson smiled sweetly at the two girls.

Tyler dropped her coat from on her shoulders and draped it over the back of the chair. Her Hazel eyes took in Clara - the brunette sitting in the chair across from her, stirring a cup of Tea - and she smiled.

"Do you really think I'm astute?" Clara asked, smirking over her cup at the blonde. Tyler frowned up at her, grabbing her own cup off the tray. "The book?"

"Oh, no. You're not in the book," Tyler denied instantly, shaking her head.

Clara quirked an eyebrow at her, "Sure, I am, we all are. Me, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade..." She listed off smirking widely.

"No, no, no, they're fictitious characters based on ideas in my head." She denied again, only to get a loud laugh from the brunette across from her.

"We've got some new neighbors." Mrs. Hudson called to the two of them as she came back into the kitchen with their laundry basket. Both snapped their eyes up to her, they hadn't had neighbors the two years they lived there. "You should pop on in and say 'Hi'."

"No, thank you," Tyler waved her off at the same time Clara smiled and said, "we will." Tyler turned her attention back to her best friend and quirked an eyebrow.

"Oh, dear." Hudson pressed a hand to her mouth, shaking her head and finding it best to leave to go do the girls laundry instead of staying for this argument.

"Tyler..." Clara began, setting her tea cup gently down in it's saucer.

Tyler instead turned her attention to the book gently placed on the table in front of her, "you know, now that I think about it. Kelli does kinda remind me of you." Referring to one of the main characters in her book.

"Tyler, we are going to go upstairs, be neighborly, and introduce ourselves." Clara ordered, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Tyler let out a huff of breath, her Hazel eyes not breaking from Clara's dark brown ones in an intense stare off. A single eyebrow bounced up on Clara's forehead and she pursed her lips, gently crossing her arms over her chest. Finally, Tyler gave in, rolling her eyes, "fine."

Clara smiled sweetly, "Grams we're going to head next door, say hello to the neighbors." She called over her shoulder, standing as Tyler did the same who pulled on her coat.

The two made their way next door to 221B where the door was already propped open and they could hear two men talking.

"You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb." The shorter of the two said. He had blonde hair and blue eyes, his stance weighted against a single cane.

"Knock-knock." Clara called out into the room, rather than actually knock. Both men turned to look at them.

Tyler took in the length of them. First the tall one. Pale; doesn't spend much time out doors and an ex-junkie. Standing tall; Likes attention obviously the youngest of his siblings. Eyes narrowed calculatingly; Smart, and arrogant.

Her eyes then went to the shorter man. Tan; recently abroad. Hair cut implies military. More specifically an Army doctor. Recently returned home from battle because of a war injury, definitely has a therapist. Limp is psychosomatic, or so his therapist thinks, and quite correctly too.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Clara Hudson and this is Tyler Jackson. We live just next door and wanted to come introduce ourselves." Clara introduced them, holding out a hand. The taller of the two simply took her in curiously.

It was the shorter one, the military doctor, who smiled politely and shook her hand, "Dr. John Watson. Sherlock Holmes." He nodded his head at the taller man. He then turned to the blonde and held out a hand to shake hers next.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?" Tyler asked curiously

John spared a glance at Sherlock who's eyebrows shot up curiously at the blonde. "Uh, Afghanistan."

"How did you know that?" Sherlock asked her with a curious frown on his lips. He, of course, knew that too, but he'd never come across someone who could possibly keep up with him intelligence wise.

"Um," Tyler frowned, biting her plump lower lip. "He's tan - you won't get a tan like that in London. His haircut says he was apart of the war. But, he was never a front line solider, he'd be a lot more bruised up if he had. That and he introduced himself as a doctor, a war doctor. Did I pass your little test?" She finished, ending with her eyes on Sherlock - blinking innocently, but heard John let out a short, amused chuckle.

Sherlock watched Tyler, frustrated, a crease in his forehead as his eyebrows knit together and a firm frown on his lips, "I can't- hmph." He let out a sharp breath through his nose and Tyler quirked an eyebrow.

"Are you alright?" She asked, reaching out to touch his arm in an innocent gesture. His nostrils flared and his icy blue eyes snapped down to her hand, but he didn't say a word.

John cleared his throat, coming up beside Tyler, "Girls make him nervous." He whispered.

Tyler's mouth shaped a perfect 'O' as she pulled her hand away from him, "Sorry."

Sherlock was quick to recompose himself, straightening out his coat and flipping up the collar around his neck as his eyes took in every inch of the blonde. From her heeled covered feet to the top of her blonde head. He shook his head and turned to Clara instead.

"Doctor. Forensics. Only Child. Bad with relationships. Recently abroad. Dead father. 26. Scottish." He rambled off and Clara rolled her eyes, reminded of the first time she'd met Tyler. Finally he turned back to Tyler looking her over quickly and letting out a sharp breath through his nose, "Why can't I deduce you?" He muttered lowly.

"Pardon?"

"I can't- Why can't I deduce you?" He repeated, like just by changing the tone in his voice would make the question anymore clearer.

"I, um..." She shook her head with an amused smiled. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just special." She quipped, though she knew why. You didn't have an upbringing like hers without being able to carefully hide everything behind a neat mask of who you chose to present to the world.

Sherlock stared at her, looking less then pleased that he couldn't deduce her like he could everyone else, while John, and Clara stood back, looking back and forth between them as if it was a tennis match, the latter appearing to find it difficult to decide whether or not she should be amused or if she should groan.

Before anyone could say anything, Mrs. Hudson had come into the room, smiling at the lot of them. "Oh, I see you have met." Clara smiled at the older woman as she move to the kitchen.

"Yes, it's been very interesting," Tyler smiled coyly at the tall brunette, getting an eye roll for her troubles.

"What about these suicides then?" Mrs. Hudson asked the group and Clara watched with curious eyes as Sherlock moved over to the window. "I thought that'd be right up your street. Three exactly the same

"Four," Sherlock called out, getting Tyler's attention. "There's been a fourth. And there's something different this time."

"A fourth?" Clara questioned with a frown.

"That would mean..." Tyler turned to face where Lestrade was sure to come in through in a matter of moments. "Where?"

"Brixton, Lauriston Gardens." Lestrade came from around the corner.

Sherlock frowned and turned back to the D. I., "What's new about this one? You wouldn't have come to get me if there wasn't something different." Tyler squared off her jaw as she turned to look at Lestrade who easily noticed the look. He was coming to Sherlock and not her? He promised!

"You know how they never leave notes?" He asked, and Sherlock nodded. "This one did. Will you come?" He asked the tall Detective.

This time Clara turned to look at Lestrade too, narrowing her eyes Lestrade gulped audibly under the double gaze of the two women. "Who's on forensics?" Sherlock asked, saving the older man from having to answer to their looks.

"It's Anderson."

Sherlock cursed silently, "Anderson won't work with me."

"Well, he won't be your assistant." Lestrade reminded him.

"I need an assistant."

Lestrade sighed heavily, "Will you come?"

"Not in a police car. I'll be right behind." Sherlock waved him off, already in deep thought.

"Thank you." Lestrade cast one last glance at the girls before scurrying out of the room.

Tyler's eyes narrowed, "oh, no he doesn't." She grabbed Clara's hand taking her with her as she hurried out of the apartment.

"It was lovely meeting you!" Clara was able to get out with a bright smile before she disappeared into the room.

"Gregory Lestrade!" Tyler called, the door slamming shut behind them. Lestrade froze in his tracks so close to the freedom of his car, and turned and smiled sweetly at the two girls.

"You were going to take Sherlock Holmes onto the case and not me!" She stomped her foot like a child. "You promised."

"I can't allow a civilian into an active murder investigation, much less three of you." He argued.

"So, you admit it's a murder?" Clara's eyebrows shot up, her hands on his hips.

Lestrade seemed to just now notice what he said and he sighed, "I'm open to the possibility."

Clara pressed her lips into a thin line and nodded, "can I have a moment?" She looked to Tyler the blonde hesitantly nodding and taking a step ff to the side.

Lestrade pressed his hands into his hips and dropped his gaze to the ground, "Clara..." he began.

"You need her, you need both of us." She reminded him.

Lestrade met her gaze again, licking his lips, "she doesn't like me very much, does she?"

"The last case you let her work on she gave a description of the murder weapon and the murderer, but you didn't give her much credence." Clara reminded her.

"Because she did it based on the victim's autopsy X-rays." He argued and Clara simply laughed.

"But, she was right in both counts." Lestrade gave in with a sigh, not being able to argue with that.

"She's good."

Clara let out a scoff of disbelief, "she's amazing," she corrected get a small half smile from the D. I.

He held her unwavering gaze for the longest time. He knew she wasn't going to back down, he knew all too well how stubborn she was. "Fine," Lestrade finally gave in. "But, she's on you. She's your responsibility."

Clara smiled brightly, "I wouldn't have it any other way. Come on, Tyler!" She called over her shoulder to the blonde, both piling into the car with him.

They got to the scene within ten minutes. Lestrade came around to open the door for them, Clara stepping out first followed by Tyler who tightened her coat around herself. Lestrade continued on while the two girls were stopped at the tape by Donovan.

"The bone lady and the Mutant." Donovan smiled sweetly between the two of them, though the look in her eyes was anything but. "Why am I not surprised."

"Ha-ha, Lestrade invited us this time." Clara bit back, her smile just as sickeningly sweet.

Donovan glanced her over in disinterest, "oh, I'm sure he invited you." She held up the tape.

Clara opened her mouth to retort, but never got the chance as Tyler grabbed her hand once again and pulled her along into the building. Tyler's heels clicked as Clara's Timbs clunked against the wood of the stairs as they hurried up the steps.

Clara stopped at the beginning of the room as she took it all in while Tyler made straight for the body, pulling on her own set of Latex gloves.

"Dr. Hudson," The brunette blinked up to see Anderson coming over to her with a smile on his lips, and surprise in his eyes. "I didn't know you'd be here."

"Don't flirt with her, Ash, you're girlfriend won't like it." Tyler called back to him as she ran her hands down the back of the pink coat and under the collar, then rubbing her fingers together. Wet.

"It's Anderson," He corrected and Clara didn't miss the part where he blatantly ignored the accusation of him flirting with her or the fact she said girlfriend and not wife.

Tyler simply waved him off, as she grabbed the dead woman's hand and ran her thumb over her chipped nails. "How long is your wife away?"

"How do you know that?" Anderson asked, his gaze hardening in defense.

Tyler ignored his question, "I do hate a cheater. And Dixie of all people," She finally turned back to look at the tall man with a look of disgust.

"Donovan," he corrected lightly, getting a pair of eye rolls. "You've been spreading rumors about me?" He looked between the two of them pointedly.

Clara scoffed, crossing her arms, "hardly rumors." She muttered.

"You and Diana are wearing the same deodorant," Tyler began to explain her deduction as she brushed her fingers over the fine jewelry on her wrist, then over her wedding ring, letting out a small hum of thought. "So, either she forgot some herself this morning and you just so happened to have it with you to let her borrow, I'm going to go with she spent the night at your house and had to use yours. Balance of probability. And judging by the bruising on her knees I don't think she came around for a cuppa."

Anderson shook his head at her, "I won't stand here and be accused of such things."

"Then by all means. Leave." Clara smiled sweetly at him. Anderson turned incredulous eyes on her and she simply waved at him. He left with the sound of his feet stomping and the door slamming shut echoing behind him. "What a child," Clara muttered, coming around to crouch by the body with Tyler. "What do you got?"

"You go first." Tyler offered with a cheeky smile.

"I do better with bones," Clara reminded her lightly. "There's too much flesh here."

Tyler simply nodded at the body, "give it a go."

Clara sighed at her stubbornness and quickly looked over the body, trying to take in anything she could. "Approximate age would be 35-39. Obviously, female. Died of Poison. Um... Business woman, probably in the media. And Rache is German for revenge."

"But..." Tyler rose an eyebrow promptingly.

"But, facial structure doesn't say German," Clara filled in getting an approving nod from the blonde. "So, obviously she didn't finish whatever it was she was trying to write before she died." Tyler nodded, running her tongue along her top lip. "How'd I do?"

"Good," Tyler commended. "You missed everything important, but still good." She smiled. Clara rolled her eyes. She really should've seen that one coming.

Before they could do anything else the door behind them opened, making Clara jump slightly as she was pulled from her own mind. She looked up to see Lestrade walking in, quickly followed by a tall man with dark curls bundled on his head, followed by a shorter friend. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.

Tyler rolled her eyes while Clara smirked tauntingly at them when the boys noticed their presence. The 'I win' was clear in her eyes.

Sherlock didn't say a word before turning his attention back to the body. He looked at the body for a while before he snapped at Lestrade, "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything!" Lestrade exclaimed, looking taken aback.

"You were thinking," Sherlock replied tensely, "It's annoying."

John and Lestrade exchanged a look as Clara rolled her eyes at Sherlock's back as he approached the body. After a moment, he kneeled down and did the same thing that Tyler had with wiping his hand over the dead woman's coat and under the collar, along with checking her pockets. He then examined her jewelry before smirking.

"Got anything?" Lestrade asked.

"Not much," Sherlock said while Tyler shook her head.

"She's German," Anderson suddenly poked his head around the door.

"Thank you, Axel," She said sarcastically, turning around and moving closer to the door, "But, you're wrong."

"It's Anderson." He corrected lightly.

Tyler frowned at him, truly confused, didn't he just correct her earlier, calling himself Axel not even ten minutes ago. Before she could say anything, the door was slammed shut, right in his face. Tyler looked up to see it was Sherlock, only for him to turn smoothly on his toes and head back over to the body.

"So, she's German?" Lestrade said, looking from the door and back over to Sherlock.

"Of course she's not," Tyler sighed, shaking her head, "But she is from out of town".

"Planned to stay a single night in London before returning home," Sherlock continued as he searched for something on his phone. "So far, so obvious."

"Sorry, obvious?" John frowned.

"What about the message?" Lestrade asked.

"Dr. Watson, what do you think?" Sherlock asked, ignoring Lestrade.

"What do I think?" John frowned, looking confused, "About the message?"

"Of the body," Clara corrected lightly, catching on to what Sherlock meant. Tyler did that to her all the time, asked for her opinion. "You're the medical man."

"So are you." He argued.

Clara pursed her lips, "Right, but he didn't ask me." She retorted quickly.

"We have a whole medical team right outside," Lestrade shook his head, pointing his thumb over his shoulder towards the door.

"They won't work with me," Sherlock replied, shaking his head

"Look, I'm breaking every rule letting you in here," Lestrade sighed.

"Yeah, 'cause you need me," Sherlock pointed out.

"Yes, I do, God help me," Lestrade sighed.

"Dr. Watson," Sherlock said again, looking at the shorter man promptly.

John looked over to Lestrade, "Oh, do as he says, help yourself," he shrugged before turning to Clara, "Watch them." He ordered, gesturing around to the other three before opening the door and telling Anderson to not let anyone inside for a couple of minutes. John and Sherlock crouched down beside the body, whispering.

"I don't like this." Tyler muttered to her dark haired friend.

Clara looked at her confused, "don't like what?"

"This," She gestured to the two boys by the pink clad body. "They're stealing my case."

"I guess we'll just have to solve it first." Clara offered, crossing her arms.

Tyler opened her mouth, most likely to argue, but stopped when she actually heard what she said. Her wide eyes turned to her, "Clara, you're a genius."

John leaned closer to the body to examine it as Lestrade returned. John sniffed the air before sitting back up right, "Asphyxiation, probably. She passed out and choked on her own vomit. I can't smell any alcohol on her, could be a seizure, possibly drugs."

"You know what it is," Sherlock's eyes were focused sharply on the military doctor, "You've seen the papers."

"What, she was one of the suicides?" John glanced at Lestrade who nodded, "One of the four?"

"Sherlock, two minutes, I said two minutes," Lestrade said, "Give me anything you've got."

"The victim is in her early 30s, professional person," Sherlock said, "Going by her clothes; I'd guess something in the media, going by the frankly alarming shade of pink. She's traveled from Cardiff today, intending to stay in London for one night, that's obvious from the size of her suitcase."

"A suitcase?" Lestrade frowned.

"A suitcase, yes," Sherlock said.

"Judging the ring on her finger, she's been married for several years but not happily," Tyler jumped in quickly just as Sherlock opened his mouth, a challenge in her Hazel eyes. "She had multiple lovers, none of them knowing she was married."

"For God's sake, if you're just making this up..." Lestrade began.

"Why would I lie?" She asked curiously and Lestrade glanced her over quickly. "Her wedding ring is about ten years old, at least. The rest of her jewelry has been recently cleaned. If the Jewelry was also from her husband she would've treated it the same as her ring, obviously it's from someone else."

"Plus, the inside of her ring is shinier than the outside," Sherlock cut her off, stepping forward eagerly and Tyler tossed him a look. "That means it's regularly removed. The only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger. It can't be for work, her nails are too long. She doesn't work with her hands, so what, or rather who does she remove her ring for?"

"It's not one lover!" Tyler rose her voice to talk over the tall man, grinning at Lestrade. "She's never sustained the faction of being single over time. So, more likely a string of them. Simple."

"Brilliant!" John said, staring at Sherlock and Tyler, "Sorry," he shook his head as they looked at him. Clara bit her lips having the same exact thought but was able to keep it in her head. It was almost like watching your favorite movie right there in your room.

"Cardiff?" Clara asked.

"Obvious, isn't it?" Sherlock looked around at John, Clara, and Lestrade.

"It's not obvious to me," John shrugged.

"Dear God, what's it like inside your funny little brains?" Sherlock shook his head, "It must be so boring. You can tell her coat is slightly damp, she's been in heavy rain in the last few hours, no rain anywhere in London in that time."

"Under her coat collar is damp, too," Tyler motioned on her own coat collar to it being turned up, "She's turned it up against the wind. There's an umbrella in her left pocket, but it's dry and unused. Which means the winds were too strong for it. Also-"

"We know from the suitcase that she intended to stay at night," Sherlock cut her off and Tyler let out a sharp breath. "So, she must have come a decent distance and she can't have traveled more than two or three hours because her coat still hasn't dried," he looked around at them, "So, where has there been heavy rain and strong winds within the radius of that travel?" he got his phone out of his pocket again and showed the screen to them, showing a webpage with a weather forecast on it, "Cardiff."

"That's fantastic!" John smiled, shaking his head in amazement.

"Do you know you do that out loud?" Sherlock asked him in a slightly lower voice then before.

"Sorry, I'll shut up," John said, a little embarrassed.

"No, it's... it's fine," Sherlock waved him off, putting his phone back in his pocket.

"Why do you keep saying suitcase?" Lestrade asked.

"Yes, where is it?" Sherlock asked, looking around the room as Tyler frowned slightly, also casting a look around them, "She must have had a phone, or an organizer. Find out who Rachel is."

"She was writing Rachel?" Lestrade asked as Tyler sighed.

"Unless she decided to write a suicide note in a language that is clearly not her first, then, yeah," She answered sarcastically. "Question is, why did she wait til she was dying to write it?"

"How do you know she had a suitcase?" Lestrade asked.

"Back of her right leg, tiny splash marks above the heel and calf, not present on the left leg," Sherlock explained, "She was dragging a wheeled suitcase behind her with her right hand. You don't get splash pattern any other way."

Tyler narrowed her eyes and actually stepped in front of the detective this time, her hands clasped behind her back. "Smallish case, judging by the spread, case that size, woman these type clothes - conscious, could only be an overnight bag. So we know she was staying a night."

"Yes." Sherlock broke in. "Now where is it and what have you done with it?"

"Girls?" Lestrade turned to her.

"There wasn't any suitcase when we arrived," Clara frowned as Sherlock ran outside the door.

"Has anyone seen a suitcase?" Sherlock shouted as he started down the stairs, "Did anyone find a suitcase? Did anyone see a suitcase in this house?"

"Sherlock!" Lestrade called after him as they walked on to the landing, Sherlock was already half way down the stairs, "There was no case!"

"They take the pills themselves, chewed them and swallowed them," Sherlock called back, "There are clear signs that even you lot couldn't miss!"

"Right, yeah," Lestrade rolled his eyes as Tyler shook her head, "Thanks for that," he looked back down to Sherlock and shouted to him, "And?"

"Its murder, all of them but I don't know how," Sherlock said as Lestrade looked at Tyler, remembering her having said that it was murder before, "They're not suicides they're killings. Serial Killings. I love serial killers, always something to look forward to."

"Why you saying that?" Lestrade asked, looking back down to him.

"Come on!" Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Where is her case, did she eat it? Someone else was here and they took her case."

"So, the killer must have driven her here," Tyler called down to Sherlock, making him stop and look back up, "And forgot that her case was in the car."

"Maybe she checked into a hotel, left her case there?" John suggested.

"She never made it to a hotel," Tyler shook her head, "Look at her hair. She colour coordinates her lipstick and her shoes. A woman like that would never leave the hotel with her hair still looking like-" but she was cut off by Sherlock.

"Oh!" Sherlock smiled, "Oh!"

"Sherlock?" John frowned at his sudden change.

"What is it?" Lestrade asked quickly, almost urgent to get answers, "What?"

"Serial killers are always hard," Sherlock smiled, not really answering, "You have to wait for them to make a mistake."

"We can't wait!" Lestrade shouted.

"Oh, we're done waiting," Sherlock shouted back as he started hurrying down the stairs again, "Look at her, really look! Houston, we have a mistake! Get on to Cardiff, find out who Jennifer Wilson family and friends were. Find Rachel!"

"Of course, yeah," Lestrade nodded, shouting back down to him, "But what mistake?"

Sherlock disappeared from sight as he reached the bottom before poking his head back around to look at them, "PINK!" he shouted before running out of sight again.

Tyler's eyes widened, "Oh... my... God. Oh, my God! OH, MY GOD!" She shrilled hurrying down the steps just as Sherlock did. She stopped and hurried up the few steps to grab Clara's hand and drag her with her.

"What is it?" Clara asked thoroughly confused.

"Don't you listen? Pink!" She shook her head at the brunette, busting out the doors. She stopped and looked back at Clara with big eyes, "now imagine I didn't say that so condescendingly."

"I'm trying," Clara shook her head.

"Come on, we need a cab. I'll explain on the way." Tyler said as they started walking down the street, only to hear a phone inside a phone box ringing. Clara frowned at it while Tyler narrowed her eyes, having a good idea who it was.

"Probably nothing," Tyler shrugged it off, "Come on, then."

"Taxi!" Clara called as they walked down the main street, but the taxi drove past. Inside a takeaway shop, the phone started ringing but as soon as a man picked it up, it stopped. "That was... odd," Clara commented to Tyler.

"I guess," Tyler lied smoothly, "Someone probably wanted to order something and gave up when no one answered. Happens all the time, Clara."

"Yeah, but don't you think it's a little strange?" Clara asked as they started walking again, "I mean, there was that phone box ringing earlier."

Tyler was about to answer when a phone box right next to them started ringing. "Oh, just answer it. He's not gonna give up." She sighed in annoyance.

Clara stopped and looked at her, "who?" Tyler simply shook her head, gesturing to the phone. Mycroft Holmes was almost just as bad his little brother - Her sister worked with her.

Clara frowned, picking up the receiver, "Hello?"

"Dr. Hudson. There is a security camera on the building to your left," the voice of a man said, "Do you see it?"

Clara glanced at Tyler before speaking into the phone, "Who's this? Who's speaking?"

"Do you see the camera, Dr. Hudson?"

Clara glanced at Tyler who simply gestured to the camera to their left. "Yeah, I see it," Clara said as they looked the camera.

"Watch," the voice told him as the camera moved, "There is another camera on the building opposite you, do you see it?"

"Hmm," Clara hummed as they looked at the camera as it also turned away.

"And finally at the top of the building on your right."

The camera did the same as the other three, "How are you doing this?" Clara asked, glancing at Tyler, who shook her head.

"Get into the car, Dr. Hudson, Miss Jackson," the voice told them as a black car pulled up just outside, "I would make some sort of threat but I'm sure your situation is quite clear to you," and with that, the phone went dead.

Clara looked back at Tyler who was already heading for the car, "thanks for explaining," Clara muttered following the blonde.

Inside, Tyler was sitting next to a beautiful, young woman, with short blonde curls and bright Hazel eyes. Clara frowned at her, just looking at them and she could already see the similarities.

"Sister." Tyler greeted boredly.

The older blonde woman looked up from her texting with a coy smile, "Sister."

Clara frowned, looking between the two women, "you're Bree. She's told me about you, I'm Clara."

"Don't try getting anything out of her," Tyler told her, turning her head out the window to watch the buildings and people move passed. "She's trained to lie."

"As were you little sister." Bree smirked down at her phone. Tyler turned narrowed eyes at the blonde. They were both trained under a man they had long since disappeared from two years ago with no intention of going back.

"Any point in asking where we're going?" Clara asked.

"None at all," Bree shook her head before adding, "Clara."

"Okay."

When the car pulled up, Tyler and Clara stepped out to find themselves inside a huge, damp, warehouse. Two chairs sat in the middle with a man holding an umbrella and dressed in an expensive three piece suit, or as Tyler knew him; Mycroft Holmes. Clara looked him over quickly and then around the room.

"Have a seat, Dr. Hudson," he pointed with his umbrella at the chair before looking at Tyler, "So, good to see you again Miss Jackson."

Tyler smiled sarcastically at the man, "Wish I could say the same."

"You know, I've got a phone," Clara said, "I mean, very clever and all that. But, ah, you could just phoned me. On my phone."

"When one is avoiding the attention of Sherlock Holmes one learns to be discreet," Mycroft answered, "Hence this place. Care to take a seat."

"I don't want to sit down," Clara said quickly.

"You don't seem very afraid," Mycroft commented.

"You don't seem very frightening," Clara said.

"Yes," Mycroft smiled slightly, giving a small chuckle, "Bravery is by far the kindest word for stupidity, don't you think?"

"I find comments like that are the easiest way to spot a coward," Tyler cut in lightly.

Mycroft and Tyler looked at each other for a moment before Mycroft turn back to Clara, "What is your connection to Sherlock Holmes?"

"We don't have one," Clara answered for the both of them, "We barely know him. We've only met him today."

"Hmm," Mycroft nodded.

"Who are you?" Clara frowned.

"An interested party."

"Interested in Sherlock, why?" Clara said, "I'm guessing you're not friends."

"You've met him," Mycroft said, "How many friends do you imagine he has? I am the closest thing to a friend that Sherlock Holmes is capable of having."

"And what's that?" Clara asked.

"An enemy."

"An enemy?" Clara questioned.

"In his mind, certainly," Mycroft nodded, "If you were to ask him, he'd probably say his archenemy. He does love to be dramatic."

"Well, thank God you're above all that," Tyler quipped, pursing her lips as her eyes met Mycroft's, her lips threatening to break free into a smirk.

The blonde's phone beeped and she looked down to see it was a message from a friend of hers who she called in when she needed help retrieving things, "I've got it. What do you want me to do with it?"

"I hope I'm not distracting you," Mycroft commented.

"You're not distracting me at all," Tyler said, putting her phone away and looked back up.

"Do you plan to continue your association with Sherlock Holmes?" Mycroft asked the girls.

Clara pursed her lips sarcastically, "I could be wrong, but I think that's none of your business."

"It could be."

"It really couldn't," Tyler shook his head.

"If you do decide to continue your association with Sherlock..." Mycroft inclined his head toward them. "I would be happy to pay you a meaningful sum of money on a regular basis to ease your way."

"Why?" Clara frowned.

"Because you're not a wealthy woman."

"In exchange for what?" She asked.

"He wants information," Tyler explained simply. He had tried to convince her to move out of her old home in Manchester about a year ago when her sister Bree first started working for him and introduced the two of them. Of course, she refused, seeing that moving all the way to another city just to stalk someone cause his big brother was too much of a wuss to admit he cares, was the most ridiculous thing she heard. Then she found a case in London that was rather interesting and she met Clara, she knew it was a matter of time before Mycroft tried to get to her.

"It wouldn't be anything that would make you feel... uncomfortable," Mycroft said, "Just tell me what he's up to."

"Why?" Clara asked.

"I worry about him," Mycroft admitted, "Constantly."

"That's nice of you," Clara nodded.

"It would be if he'd just admit it to his face," Tyler commented.

"Now, now, Miss Jackson," Mycroft shook his head at her before turning back to Clara, "But I would prefer for various reasons that my concern go unmentioned. We have what you might call a... difficult relationship."

Tyler's phone beeped once more and she took it back out, "I'll just leave it inside."

"No," Clara said.

"I haven't mentioned a figure."

"Don't bother," Clara shook his head.

Mycroft chuckled, "You're very loyal, very quickly."

"More so, were not idiots and we know not to trust creepy men in back alleys." Tylerteased earning a flat look from Mycroft, his nose poised up in the air.

"I'm just not interested," Clara added.

"'Trust issues'," Mycroft stated as he took the address book back out, "It says here."

"What's that?" Clara frowned.

"Just some information on you Doctor," Mycroft explained mockingly. "you were very quick to trust Miss Jackson here, so why the sudden loyalty to Sherlock Holmes? Could it be he reminds you of your friend?"

"Who says I trust him?" Clara asked.

"You don't seem the kind to make friends easily," Mycroft said.

"And you do?" Tyler challenged and Mycroft silently met her gaze, trying to read her but he learned a long time ago that doing that was useless.

"Are we done?" Clara asked.

"You tell me," Mycroft said with a slight edge.

Clara looked at Mycroft for a minute before turning and starting to walk back to the still waiting car. Tyler shook her head at Mycroft, "you know who I am. Why would you want me or Clara anywhere near your brother?"

"Because for all the danger you may cause Miss. Jackson, you are a far better aspect to have on our side rather than his side." Mycroft gave her a pointed look, noting the way her eyes darkened at the mention of him. "Time to choose a side, Miss Jackson, do take care of Sherlock Holmes for me."

Tyler stared after him before rolling her eyes at Mycroft's dramatics, and turned to catch up to where Clara was waiting for her. "What were you two talking about?"

"Sherlock Holmes." Tyler lied smoothly.

"Who was that?" Clara shook her head in confusion.

"Mycroft Holmes." She answered simply.

Before Clara could make any comment about the two men being related, from behind them they could hear the sound of heels clicking as they glanced over their shoulders to see Bree standing there.

"I'm to take you home," she told them without looking up from her phone.

"Still acting as his lap dog, I see." Tyler remarked and Bree's sharp Hazel eyes snapped up to her, but Tyler didn't back down from her comment. She always had been weak in her younger sister's eyes, always choosing the side of a man she thought held enough power to keep her safe ever since fleeing from him.

Clara glanced between the two of them with narrowed eyes. "Come on then Clara, I have a present waiting for me at home." Tyler smiled over at her and Clara quirked an eyebrow.

"Address?" Bree asked.

"Baker Street," Clara said, walking over to the car followed by Tyler, "221A, Baker Street."

Leave it up to Clara to have to stop at the gas station to pee half way through their trip home.

Tyler stayed down in the car with Bree while Clara headed into the small convenience store to use the restroom. Tyler let her eyes wander around the surrounding area before they fell onto Bree. It hadn't been that long, maybe six months, since they last met face to face, even then it was never anything extraordinary. Her and her sister didn't have the best relationship, not after what she did.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." Bree quipped, finally looking up from her phone to smile coyly at her younger sister.

Tyler rolled her eyes, "you think he'll be able to keep you safe? From him?" Tyler asked with a knowing look, though she already knew the answer. "If he truly wanted to find you, no one would be able to do that."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Bree challenged, terror in her eyes while Tyler stared back at her with blank ones. The same blank look she learned from the very man that had her sister terrified to her bones. "Sit around and wait for him to come for me? Kill me?"

"Why would he kill you?" Tyler challenged, though they both knew the answer, she just wanted to hear her say it.

"You know." Bree narrowed her eyes.

Before anything else could be said, the car door opened and in came Tyler, squishing in next to Tyler. She seemed to notice the tension right away and frowned, "Everything okay?" Neither answered, Tyler turning her attention out the front wind shield while Bree dropped her eyes back to her Blackberry, typing away.