¤What's The Point In Being Clever If You Can't Prove It¤

***

"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."

***
 

Tyler Rose Jackson's got an IQ that would put Einstien to shame and has a knack for picking up things no normal human being ever would. She's got a rough past that she will do anything to keep from catching up to her, and her new life.
 
Dr. Clara Hudson works for Scottland yard as a Forensic Palathropologit. Her and Tyler have been best friends for nearly two years now. Clara is fascinated with Tyler, the way she acts, thinks. She was the most clever person she'd ever met.
 
That is until a case leads these two girls to meet Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson