"So, what're we watching next?" Helena asked as she fell back onto the couch beside Sherlock, a large bag of Kettle Corn in her lap. Her and Sherlock were having another one of their movie nights, camped out in the living room. It took her a while to build up a trust with Mr and Mrs Holmes to where they would let her spend the night, only if they stayed out in the living room. And her mom never really did care what she did as long as it wasn't bothering her.

The sun had just gone down, making the room dark except for the thin streams of light coming from the moon through the window. The last two movies they had watched were 'American Psycho' and 'Hannibal' both to which she used as an excuse to cuddle up into him, finding a strange satisfaction when he didn't push her away or look at her weirdly for doing so.

"My Mum just rented the Uninvited," He told her with something like excitement in his eyes. He always did when it came to murder and mystery Helena Noticed. She glanced over at him as she popped a piece of popcorn into her mouth. He sat up straight against the couch cushion. He was wearing his big foggy black hoodie and a pair of sweat pants, his legs crossed beneath him. His curls were everywhere, sticking over his forehead and even in the dark his bright blue eyes were luminescent - she just wanted to look at them up close.

"What's it about," She pulled her legs up onto the couch with her and pulled the blanket over her exposed legs, turning to face him. She was in a pair of her pajama shorts and one of Sherlock's large shirts - well large on her anyway - and her big brown curls were up in a messy bun.

He looked at her with those bright blue eyes and her whole world froze. "About a girl who comes back from psych ward after her mother died and tries to solve her mother's murder."

"Is it scary?" She patted her eyelashes at him, rested her head in the crook of her arm as she leaned her elbow back against the backrest.

"For you, probably," He shrugged, getting up to go put the disc in. Helena dropped her head with a heavy sigh at how oblivious he was, pushing her hair out of her face in time to see Sherlock come back over to sit next to her as the movie started up. "I'll turn on the lights if you need me to," He smirked over at her.

She scowled at him, "funny," she playfully punched him, though she knew it was only an excuse to touch him.

He stared down at her like he was analyzing her, deducing her, and she was glad it was dark to hide her red cheeks. "Your pupils are dilated and you keep toying with your hair," he pointed out. Helena felt her breath get caught in her throat as he took her hand in his and flipped it over to take her pulse. "Fast pulse. The movie hasn't even started yet and your already scared."

For a moment she didn't even register the movie starting up as she looked over at the shaggy haired teenager sitting beside her, lost in a moment that usually only happened in her head. He stared into her eyes with his bright eyes and she felt her heart race at the sight of them up close. She had barely leaned in half an inch when he jerked back.

An anxious looked filled his eyes as he dropped her hand and ran it through his dark curls, "Did you know that human saliva has a boiling point three times that of regular water, and the average woman uses her height in lipstick every five years?" His voice shook slightly. "Did you also know that Women's hearts beat faster than men's?" Helena smiled knowingly at him, at his nervousness. "I bet you didn't know that lips are just as unique as your finger print, you'll never meet two people-"

She cut him off by reaching up and gently grabbing his chin, turning him towards her so that their lips met briefly. For a moment he tried to continue his sentence and then he froze, starring crossed eyed down at the brunette connected to his lips.

Her eyes were still closed as she broke the kiss, still feeling the tingle left behind from the touch. Finally, she let her eyes flutter open to see him starring wide eyed at her. "Did you know that our lips appear red-pink because we can actually see the blood capillaries that lie under the mucus membrane?"

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes, you are incredible." And for the first time he didn't get mad at someone using his full name, but then again he was kinda distracted as she leaned in to kiss him again.

The next morning found Sherlock fully recovered from his little drugging incident the day before, and looking quite refreshed as he sat at the table in the middle of Baker Street's living room, reading the morning newspaper, John sitting across from him while the girls were on either side of the table, eating breakfast. Even Mycroft had made an appearance, or though it was clear from the frown on his face as he stood close by that it wasn't a social visit.

"The photographs are perfectly safe," Sherlock told his brother from behind the paper, sounding slightly annoyed.

Mycroft cast him a look, "In the hands of a fugitive sex worker," he argued.

The paper rustled and Sherlock lowered it so that he could glare at Mycroft, "She's not interested in blackmail," he replied, "She wants..." he narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, "...protection for some reason," he glanced over at the other man, "I take it you've stood down the police investigation into the shooting at her house?"

"How can we do anything while she has the photographs?" Mycroft frowned at him, "Our hands are tied."

"She'd applaud your choice of words," he remarked, causing John and the girls to smirk, and Mycroft to roll his eyes in exasperation. He turned serious, "You see how this works: that camera phone is her 'get out of jail free' card. You have to leave her alone," he turned back to his paper before adding mockingly, "Treat her like royalty, Mycroft."

"Though not the way she treats royalty," John commented, glancing up from his breakfast and giving him a sarcastic smile, receiving a humorous smile in return as Tyler laughed, quickly covering it up by taking a sip of tea.

A loud, orgasmic woman's moan filled the room. Tyler frowned over her tea cup, looking over at Sherlock with narrowed eyes, who seemed to be avoiding her eyes, while John and Mycroft frowned, looking around the rest of the room while Clara blushed furiously.

"What was that?" Clara asked.

"Text," Sherlock replied, trying hard to seem casual, closing his newspaper.

"But what was that noise?"

They watched as he stood and walked over to the fireplace and picked up his phone, reading whatever the message said, "Did you know there were other people after her, too, Mycroft, before you sent us in there?" he raised his eyebrows at his older brother and moved past him, back to his chair, "CIA-trained killers, at an excellent guess."

"Yeah, thanks for that, Mycroft," John remarked sarcastically, throwing him a look over his shoulder.

Tyler nodded in agreement with John, "Well, it would seem that it's a reoccurring habit of leaving important details out," she muttered.

Mrs Hudson stepped into the room from the kitchen, having made them all breakfast, and carrying another plate, "It's a disgrace," she commented, her voice stern, sitting the plate in front of Sherlock, who was busy unfolding another paper, "Sending your little brother into danger like that. Family is all we have in the end, Mycroft Holmes."

"Oh, shut up, Mrs Hudson," Mycroft rolled his eyes at her.

"Mycroft Holmes!" Clara shouted, looking furious causing Mycroft's eyes to widen, taking in her outraged face. "Apologize."

Mycroft grimaced slightly, opening and closing his mouth for a moment before giving Mrs Hudson an apologetic smile, "Apologies."

Mrs Hudson nodded at him, "Thank you," and moved back towards the kitchen.

"Though do, in fact, shut up," Sherlock added, returning to his paper.

"Sherlock!" Clara glared at him, purposely kicking his leg under the table.

He visibly winced, obviously having not expected her to kick him, and opened his mouth to retort when his phone moaned again.

"Ooh," Mrs Hudson looked back over at them from the kitchen doorway as everyone else frowned at the phone, "It's a bit rude, that noise, isn't it?"

Sherlock checked the phone, moving his paper aside to do so, "There's nothing you can do and nothing she will do as far as I can see," he told Mycroft, returning to his paper.

Mycroft glanced down at the floor, "I can put maximum surveillance on her..."

"Why bother? You can follow her on Twitter. I believe her user name is 'TheWhipHand."

"It would hardly be Mother Theresa, now is it?" Tyler remarked dryly, causing John to smile.

"Yes," Mycroft cast them looks, sneering, "Most amusing," his phone rang and reached inside his pocket, looking down at the screen, "Excuse me," he walked towards the door leading onto the landing, raising the phone to his ear, all the while being watched by Sherlock and Tyler, "Hello?"

John looked up from his breakfast to Sherlock, his eyes focusing on his phone for a second, "Why does your phone make that noise?" He questioned with a frown.

Sherlock's eyes flickered away from his brother, glancing towards the device. His face and voice carefully blank of emotions, Tyler noted, "What noise?" he asked.

"That noise... the one it just made."

He tried shrugging it off, "It's a text alert," he replied, his eyes returning to his paper, "It means I've got a text."

"Hmm," Clara nodded, frowning, "Your texts don't usually make that noise."

"Well, somebody got hold of the phone and apparently, as a joke, personalized their text alert noise."

Tyler raised her eyebrows suspiciously at him, already having a good idea just who that might be, "Somebody, huh?"

"Hmm..." John nodded again, looking over at the phone, "So every time they text you..."

As if on cue, the phone went off again, moaning loudly.

"It would seem so," Sherlock remarked, folding his newspaper up, and focusing on the phone as Tyler watched him, seeming crossed between amusement and annoyance.

"Could you turn that phone down a bit?" Mrs Hudson stepped into the doorway of the kitchen, shaking her head, "At my time of life, it's..."

He checked the phone before sitting it back down on the table, glancing over at the old woman as she moved back into the kitchen, still shaking her head and muttering. His eyes caught Tyler, who was still watching him, and shot her a look. Tyler smiled at him, not in the least bit bothered by his look, returning to her quickly cooling tea.

A moment passed, in which Sherlock turned back the newspaper, before John frowned, flickering through his own paper, "I'm wondering who could have got hold of your phone, because it would have been in your coat, wouldn't it?" he reasoned, narrowing his eyes as he looked over at him.

Sherlock quickly moved the paper in front of his face, shielding him from view, "I'll leave you to your deductions," he muttered, sounding a little stiff.

"Nice try, Sherlock" Clara scoffed, shaking her head.

John smiled, "I'm not stupid, you know," he looked back to his own paper.

"Where do you get that idea?"

"...Bond Air is go, that's decided," Mycroft was saying into his phone as he walked back into the room, catching Sherlock and Tyler's attention again, "Check with the Coventry lot. Talk later," he ended the call, slipping it back inside his suit pocket.

"What else does she have?" Sherlock eyed him, rolling his eyes as his brother gave him a questioning look, "Helena Pierce," he clarified, roughly closing his paper, setting it aside, "The Americans wouldn't be interested in her for a couple of compromising photographs," his eyes narrowed and he stood, stepping closer to him, "There's more," Mycroft gave him a stony faced look, "Much more. Something big's coming, isn't it?" he finished softly.

"Helena Pierce is no longer any concern of yours-" he gave him a firm look.

"Helena has always been a concern of mine-"

"-from now on you will stay out of this."

"Oh, will I?" he gave him a challenging look as John and the girls exchanged looks.

"Yes, Sherlock," Mycroft replied with a pleasant smile before dropping it, looking very, very serious and stern, "You will," Sherlock looked at him for a long, tense moment before shrugging, and walking over to his seat, grabbing his violin, "Now, if you'll excuse me," Mycroft's tone became lighter almost at once, casting John and the girls another pleasant smile, "I have a long and arduous apology to make to a very old friend."

"Do give her my love," Sherlock remarked, settling his violin under his chin, and began playing 'God Save The Queen,' right on Mycroft's heels as he rolled his eyes at his brother's antics, and walked out of the room, heading down the stairs.

Tyler laughed, shaking her head as she rested her chin on the palm of her hand, watching as Sherlock moved, still playing, over towards the window, looking out. She might hate it when he played at three in the morning, but she had to admit that he was very talented.

~*~

Tyler smiled slowly, watching as the snow drifted past the large window of the small café she was sitting in. She had always loved watching the snow fall when she had been a child and that love still continued even as an adult. Still, it seemed as if she was the only one who was enjoying the snowy weather as it was causing havoc for all the people rushing around, trying to get last minute Christmas presents, since there was only two nights left before the day.

Luckily for Tyler, she had already finished her Christmas shopping the week before with Clara. For John, she had bought him a new wallet, since his old one had ended up meeting its untimely demise at the hands of one of Sherlock's experiments. For Mrs. Hudson, an antique Victorian tea set, knowing that it was just the sort of thing that she would like. Lestrade, a collection of all the amusing little videos she and Clara had taken during their time at Baker Street. Molly, she had bought a small gold locket, and got Clara a large picture frame of various photos of her and everyone else like Sherlock and John and Lestrade. She even went as far to get Mycroft and Bree something, the older Holmes she got him coupon for the bakery despite knowing he was on a diet and got Bree a nice set of diamond earring. Then that only left Sherlock. He had, by far, been the most difficult out of all of them to pick for, but she had managed, and was even feeling quite proud, believing that she might just have chosen well. She had got him the full case set of Forensic Files. He always liked watching them with her and Clara, always solving them before the people on the show did.

A few minutes past and she soon withdrew her attention back inside the café, casting her eyes around a few people who were around her. She shook her head and reached inside her bag that she had placed beside her chair, grabbing her phone and checking the time, as well if she had any messages. She had planned to meet with Clara at twelve for coffee, but she was ten minutes late, and she hadn't texted, which wasn't like her at all. Perhaps she got caught up by Sherlock and John. Still, she couldn't quite shake the uneasy feeling that settled over her as she slipped the phone back into her bag.

As she did so, she felt the presence of someone approach her and heard the chair in front her scrap against the floor as it was pulled out, and the sound of fabric rustling as someone sat down. A smile crossed her face before she frowned, realizing that something had been off about the way the person had sat down, the sound of the fabric was off too, and her eyes snapped up to look, only to find the person she least expected nor wanted to come across.

"Hello, Rosie," Jim grinned across at her, leaning casually back in his chair as if he did something like this every day.

Tyler's mouth fell open in shock and horror, her eyes widening as she stared at him, "What..." she trailed off, swallowing thickly, her eyes flickering over towards the door as she rested her hand over the hilt of the gun in her bag, ready to bolt, "What the hell are you doing here?" she finally managed to get out.

"Christmas is the time for love," he replied in a sing song tone, shrugging, "Or so I've been told."

She shook her head at him, "So, send me a card." She went to go stand up but his hand quickly shot across the table to grab hers, stopping her from moving.

"Stay. Chat. It's been so long." he remarked casually, his dark eyes flickering up to meet hers, smirking.

"Well, the last time we saw each other you had my best friend strapped to a bomb so pardon me if I'm not exactly excited to see you again." And again she tried to leave, she should've known it wouldn't be that easy.

"Don't you want to know why Clara's late for your little date?"

Tyler froze in her step, her heart hammering in her chest. "What did you do to her?" She demanded, whirling back around to face him.

Jim sighed heavily, as if she was boring him and rolled his eyes, "She's fine... for now," he informed her, a smirk crossing his face again, "Of course, that's all up to you that she remains that way."

"What do you want?"

He smirked, his dark eyes glinting, "I just want to talk to you."

"What have you done with Clara?"

"Still on about that?" he rolled his eyes again, "If I knew you would be this worried about her I would have just had her killed before even walking in here."

"James..." Tyler began angrily, knowing the use of his full first name got to him more than anything.

"Fine, fine, fine!" he cut across her, obviously growing annoyed, which was never a good sign, "You know, you used to be so much more fun when you didn't care so much for human life," he commented, making a childish face of disgust, "Little Dr. Hudson is simply distracted," he told her, sounding even more bored then he had before.

"And by distracted...?"

"I didn't come here to talk about your little pet, Rosie," Jim cut across her again, his tone sharp and with a note of anger rippling through it. Tyler immediately closed her mouth, watching him intently and carefully, knowing better than anyone just how quickly his mood could shift, and they were certainly entering into dangerous water. For a long moment they simply looked at each other before he broke into mad laughter, "Ryan wouldn't like us to fight, now, would he?" he grinned, looking completely unhinged.

Tyler fixed a sarcastic smile to her face, "Well, I doubt he would care much now that he's dead." She let a stone cold look cross her face.

He shot her another unhinged smile, "he never really had any control over what we did anyway, did he?" He prompted, running his thumb along her knuckles gently, sending a tingle up her whole arm.

"Why are you playing this game with Sherlock? Of all the people in the world, why him? I mean, what did he ever do to you, Jimmy?" She asked seriously.

"You," He told her, a rare look of seriousness in his eyes as he stared up at her. "He took you from me."

Tyler swallowed hard, her eyes taking in his whole being. His messy hair, his crazy eyes, his kissable lips, how dashing he looked in those suits. "He didn't take me, I left." She reminded him. "This is between you and me Jimmy, leave them out of this."

He stood himself, casting her a mockingly sad look, "well, I suppose I ought to get my condolences ready," he commented, running a hand down the front of his Westwood suit,

"Condolences?" she repeated, staring at him with a horrified expression across her face.

Jim smirked, "Oh, yes, dear Rosie. If you don't play by the rules I will kill everyone you've brought into this new life of yours," he held up four fingers. "First I'll kill Clara," he lowered one of his fingers, "Next will go Lestrade," another finger, "then Dr. Watson," he shot her another mocking look, lowering his last finger, "and very last... Sherlock Holmes. You've grown quite fond of him, haven't you?"

She swallowed thickly, suddenly very pale, "You still need Sherlock for whatever your end game is," she argued softly.

"My plans can be changed and tweaked if needed," he brushed her weak argument off, all the while smirking at her, "I mean, this is only if you don't want to be a good girl and play with me like you used to."

"All this... because I left you."

"What was it you said to me?" He took the few small steps between them getting all up in her face as his eyes turned nearly a dark black, similar to the night sky minus the bright stars. "Just let me in, I promise I won't-"

"Hurt you." She finished with him in a breathy whisper, remembering that night all too clear.

"You broke that promise. You made me fall Rosie," his hand came up to tuck her hair behind her ear with an almost regretful look as he stared into her bright Hazel eyes. "So, now it's your turn to fall."

She let out a soft breath as she leaned into his touch. For a very long time they just stared at each other before a strange smile spread across his face and he shook his head. He didn't say a word though, just turned and headed for the door. "I'll be seeing you again, very soon my sweet Rose." And with that, he opened the door and stepped out, vanishing from sight almost instantly, blending in with the crowd that was still moving outside in the chilly weather.

Tyler stared after him, her head still spinning from what had just happened as she fell back against her chair, breathing heavily as she closed her eyes. What the hell just happened?

The door of the café opened, sending an icy cold chill to sweep into the room briefly, before the door closed, very nearly caused her to suffer from a heart attack, thinking that Jim had returned, but when she looked up she felt a wave of relief crash over her at the sight of Clara moving towards her, pinked faced from the cold, but otherwise completely fine.

"Clara," she grinned broadly at her, watching as her friend pulled out the chair that Jim had just left, giving her a slightly sheepish look.

"Sorry I'm late," she told her apologetically, "I, uh, got caught up helping John deal with the aftermath of one of Sherlock's experiments." She shook her head, giving the blonde a 'you know how that is' looks.

"No, its fine," she waved her apology away, just pleased to see that Jim had actually kept his word, "So, Christmas Eve, Baker Street?" she raised her eyebrows at her, trying not to think about earlier.

"God, I heard you invited Mycroft and Bree," Clara began gossiping and Tyler felt the events that just happened slipping to the back of her mind. "That's gonna be a trip."

~*~

It was Christmas Eve and Baker Street's living room was looking very festive, with garlands and Christmas cards put up for display, even John was getting into the spirit of the holiday by wearing a Christmas jumper.

Clara had thought about getting herself her own Christmas jumper, but decided in the end just to wear the Santa hat that her Grams had bought her, (Sherlock had got antlers, but refused wear them), much to John and the girls disappointment.

Tonight she had decided to dress up a bit more, since it was a party, wearing a white half tank top with a maroon, lacy, high-low skirt that had a thin gold belt around her waist, her matching maroon suede Louboutin's, two gold and maroon colored bar bracelets on her right wrist and matching red feather earrings. She had curled her hair and put it into a half up, half down style with a bun in the back of her head, dark red wine lipstick, along with smokey eye shadow.

Tyler, likewise, had dressed up a bit herself, wearing with a dusty Rose draped top that clung to the top part of her torso and flowed out from below her breasts. She also had on a sleek pair of black skinny jeans, a pair of black peeps toes that had a gold design across the toes and around her ankles, and like Clara, a pair of dusty rose feather earrings. She had crimped her hair so they came down in tight waves to her shoulders with half pinned to the side, dusty pink lipstick, gold nail polish, and thin eyeliner.

The day had gone surprisingly well, with hardly any complaints from Sherlock, and by seven that night, most of the guests had arrived, and they all watched as Sherlock entertained them with 'We Wish You A Merry Christmas' on his violin at Mrs Hudson's request.

"Lovely!" the older woman clapped happily along with the rest of the room, smiling broadly as he ended the song with a flourish, sitting in Sherlock's usual chair, while Lestrade whistled from the kitchen doorway, "Sherlock, that was lovely!"

"Very nice," Tyler smiled, nodding as she clapped from her seat on the armrest of John's usual chair.

"Marvellous!" John agreed, passing Lestrade in the doorway of the kitchen, holding a cup of tea and a bottle of beer as he moved further into the room.

Sherlock gave them all a quick bow, sending Mrs Hudson, who seemed to already be starting to feel the effects of her glass of white wine she was holding, into a fit of giggles, "I wish you could have worn the antlers!" She called to him.

He gave her a small, somewhat tight smile, "Some things are best left to the imagination, Mrs Hudson," he replied.

John, who appeared to have realized that the older woman was a little tipsy, passed her the cup of tea, "Mrs H," he smiled at her.

John's date, a dark haired, pretty woman, Jeanette, approached Sherlock, holding out a tray with mince pies and slices of cake on it towards him, "No thank you, Sarah," Sherlock gave her a polite smile, so far doing well behaving himself.

Tyler coughed and stood, moving towards Sherlock, noticing the woman's face fall, "That's not Sarah," she hissed at him under her breath, fixing a friendly smile to her face.

"Ah!" John hurried over to them, wrapping an arm around the Jeanette as she began to turn away, "No, no, no, no, no. He's not good with names," he tried to comfort her.

"No, no, no," Sherlock shook his head, looking thoughtful as Jeanette sat the tray down on the living room table, turning back to them, crossing her arms, "I can do this," John cringed slightly, giving Tyler a hopeless look.

"Ah, Sherly," Tyler began, trying to distract him, "How about you tell us about one of your past cases..."

"No, Sarah was the doctor," he continued thoughtfully, obviously not having heard a word that she had said, "And then there was the one with the spots, and then the one with the nose, and then... who was after the boring teacher?" he asked, glancing at Tyler, who closed her eyes in exasperation.

Jeanette glared at him, shifting, "Nobody."

"Jeanette!" He finally got it, giving her a bright, fake smile, "Ah, process of elimination."

John awkwardly pulled the poor woman away as Tyler sighed heavily, casting her an apologetic look, "Oh, Sherly," she muttered tiredly.

"It's hardly my fault," Sherlock replied, sniffing, "John goes through so many girlfriends."

"You still shouldn't list them all off to his current one. I would've paid to see that woman slap you Sherlock Holmes," Tyler turned to the curly haired detective with her arms crossed and an amused smile on her face.

Surprisingly, instead of scoffing at her or making a sarcastic remark, he turned towards her, "She surly knows that John's had other girlfriends," he reasoned, generally sounding curious, "So why would it bother her hearing about them?"

"Well, you did call her boring," Tyler pointed out and Sherlock simply shrugged.

That's when Clara came in from the kitchen with a bright smile on her face and her bag of gifts that she set on the coffee table, "Oh, finally. I feel like I haven't had a moment to breathe in ages."

Lestrade's eyes widened as he came into the room himself, "Clara, you look beautiful." He commented having just been able to catch the girl for a moment as she was rushing about making sure everything was perfect.

Clara shifted a little, rubbing her bare arms awkwardly as she felt her cheeks heat up, "oh, thank you." She looked around the room with a small smile. "So, drinks then?"

Sherlock moved over to the living room table and sat down in front of John's open laptop, "I can't stop you now can I," he remarked, ignoring the way Clara glared at him for his remark.

"It's the one day of the year where the boys have to be nice to me," Mrs Hudson told her, her wine glass back in her hand, Tyler noted with a hint of amusement, "So it's almost worth it!" she smiled.

John grabbed a chair from the kitchen, sitting it down for Clara, "Have a seat," he smiled over at her.

"John?" Sherlock called to him.

"Hmm?" he hummed, stepping over to look over his shoulder at the screen. Tyler, looking curious, moved over to see for herself to see that John's blog was on the screen.

"The counter on your blog: still says one thousand, eight hundred and ninety-five."

"Ooh, no!" John gave him a mockingly angry look, lightly hitting the table top, "Christmas is cancelled!"

"How awful," Clara laughed, shaking her head.

Sherlock ignored them, scowling as he pointed at the side bar were a picture of himself was with the deerstalker on, "And you've got a photograph of me wearing that hat!" He complained.

John shrugged, "People like the hat."

"No they don't," he scoffed before pausing as John walked away, shaking his head, "What people?"

"Stop complaining, Sherlock," Tyler sighed, shaking her head, "There's not many people who could wear a hat like that one and still look handsome," she remarked and walked over to the sofa, taking a seat, ignoring the feeling of Sherlock's eyes following her.

Clara turned to her Grams, "How's the hip?" she asked, sounding slightly concerned.

"Ooh, it's atrocious, but thanks for asking," Mrs Hudson replied, actually sounding a little cheerful. That wine was really working wonders for her.

She nodded, "I've seen much worse, but then I work with bones so..." She trailed off, laughing softly only then realizing that no one else was laughing.

"Don't make jokes Clara, you're incredibly awkward." Sherlock told her, looking up from the computer for a moment.

Clara narrowed her eyes at him grabbing a pillow from the couch and going to throw it at him, but Tyler quickly snatched it from her and tucked it into her lap, smiling up at Lestrade. "I wasn't expecting to see you. I thought you were gonna be in Dorset for Christmas." She made light conversation, trying to change the subject.

"That's first thing in the morning, me and the wife," Lestrade replied, smiling, "We're back together. It's all sorted."

"No," Sherlock said without even looking up, "She's sleeping with a P.E teacher."

Tyler pinched the bridge of her nose as Lestrade's smile became quite fixed, shaking her head as Clara turned to her, "So, did you ever call that guy from the pub?" She asked, and Tyler felt her eyes widen as all eyes were on her, including Sherlock's. "What was his name? Jensen or something?"

"What 'guy?'" Sherlock's eyes narrowed at Tyler, who shifted a little.

Clara frowned, "You didn't tell them?" She gestured to the boys.

Tyler pressed her lips into a thin line, shaking her head. She didn't really see a point as she wasn't even sure she was gonna call him. he was cute and sweet, but with Jim back and at her again, now just wasn't the best time. "It was just some guy who gave me his number, I didn't see the need to."

"You don't date," Sherlock stated, still eyeing her.

"Yeah, well, perhaps it's time I do."

"Oh, okay..." Clara hummed, sensing the awkwardness and turned to John, "And John," she smiled at him, "I hear you're off to your sister's, is that right?"

"Yeah," John nodded.

"Sherlock was complaining," he glanced over at her, raising his eyebrows, "...saying," she corrected herself.

"First time ever, she's cleaned up her act," John cut in, toasting his beer bottle as he spoke, "She's off the booze."

"Nope," Sherlock remarked, popping the 'P'.

John sighed, "Shut up, Sherlock."

"I see you've got yourself a boyfriend, Clara, and you're serious about him," Sherlock looked over to her, his mouth twitching briefly into a fake smile.

"Sorry, what?" Clara blinked as Tyler frowned, glancing in-between Sherlock and Clara.

"What are you talking about?" Tyler eyed him.

"In fact, you're seeing him this very night and giving him a gift."

"Take a day off," John muttered quietly, sounding highly exasperated.

Lestrade moved over to Sherlock and placed a glass beside him, "Shut up and have a drink," he told him.

"Oh, come on," Sherlock continued, rolling his eyes at them all, looking as if he was starting to enjoy himself, "Surely you've all seen the present at the top of the bag, perfectly wrapped with a bow," Tyler glanced over at the bag, her eyes widening as she realized just who that present was meant for, "All the others are slapdash at best," he stood and walked closer to her, looking down at the rest of the presents in the bags, "It's for someone special, then," he commented, grabbing the well wrapped, red present, "The shade of red echoes her lipstick, either an unconscious association or one that she's deliberately trying to do. Either way, Dr. Hudson has love on her mind," he smirked as Clara shifted uncomfortably, and Tyler stood, walking over to them, her arms crossed across her chest, glaring at Sherlock, who continued, "The fact that she's serious about him is clear from the fact she's giving him a gift at all."

"Sherlock, stop it," Tyler cut in sternly, a touch of anger seeping into her voice.

"That would suggest long-term hopes, however forlorn," he continued, ignoring Tyler, "And that she's seeing him tonight is evident from her make-up and what she's wearing," he glanced smugly over at John and Jeanette, turning the gift's tag over that was attached to the present, labeling who it was for, "Obviously trying to compensate for the size of her breasts..." he trailed off suddenly as he looked down at the label, looking shocked.

My dearest John

xxxC

Sherlock glanced over at said Doctor with big eyes than at Clara who had a mix of embarrassment and anger on her face. She took a sharp intake of breath as she pushed to her feet, "don't you ever just... shut up." She hissed at him, her voice low but the anger clear in it.

Sherlock swallowed, looking truly guilty for what he had done as he moved to turn away before thinking better of it, and turning back to her, "I am sorry," he told her sincerely, "Forgive me," John and Tyler looked at him, startled that he had actually apologized even Clara had the sense to look a little shock. "I didn't-"

Despite having gotten caught off guard she still had the sense to be mad, "No, you didn't. I think it's time I go home." She muttered, snatching the present from Sherlock and making sure to drop it into the trash as she left, the door slamming behind her.

Sherlock let out a heavy sigh running his hands through his hair and down his face, flattening his curls against his forehead. And suddenly, the same orgasmic moan echoed through the room, causing everyone to look at him.

Lestrade did a double take, "what the Hell?" he exclaimed, staring at him with wide eyes as Tyler laughed quietly, despite the once tense atmosphere.

He rolled his eyes at them, "My phone," he reached inside his pocket, pulling out the device.

John narrowed his eyes at him, "Fifty-seven?"

Tyler nodded slowly, "Yes, that's about right," she agreed.

"Sorry, what?" Sherlock glanced over at them, turning his back on them all.

"Fifty-seven of those texts, the ones I've heard," John clarified, eyeing him.

He checked his phone and turned to look at the mantelpiece, "Thrilling that you've been counting," he commented sarcastically, walking over to the fireplace, and picking up a blood red present that was sitting there, frowning down at it, "excuse me," he said to them, heading towards the kitchen, holding the present.

John and Tyler frowned, exchanging a look, "What- what's up, Sherlock?" John called after him as Tyler stood up, following him with curious, concerned eyes.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"I said excuse me," he spoke over his shoulder, still walking.

"Do you ever reply?" John asked, but he simply ignored him, the sound of his bedroom door opening and closing sounded a moment later. "I should probably handle this one." John turned to Tyler with prompting eyes and she nodded.

"Yeah, I should, uh, check on Clara," Passing one last concerned look to Sherlock's room before finally making up her mind and heading for the stairs. She stopped and grabbed the present out of the trash carefully before finally heading down the stairs to her own flat.

Clara was there, sitting in the bay window and starring out the window with a glass of wine hanging loosely from her hand. Tyler hesitated in the archway, turning the small box that was meant for John in her hands. "How long?"

Clara simply shrugged, "I don't know." She admitted letting out a small chuckle that held no real amusement in it. "Leave it to Sherlock Holmes to uncover feelings you don't even know you have." She shook her head, taking a large gulp of the white wine.

"Yeah, he's kind of an arsehole like that." Tyler nodded, successfully getting a soft laugh from the brunette. Tyler smiled at her setting the present on the desk as she passed. She picked up the brunette's feet and set them back down in her lap as she sat across from her. "You gonna tell him."

"That Sherlock's an arsehole? I think he know that," Clara joked, purposely avoiding the subject.

Tyler laughed, rubbing her leg softly, "that's not what I meant."

Clara sighed heavily, finally turning to face her, "I don't know."

A knocking at the door caught their attention and Tyler turned to look at it, "Come in." John came walking in with a solemn look, both girls instantly perking up at his presence. "What's wrong? Is he okay?"

"I don't know," John sighed heavily, shaking his head, "I couldn't hear much, but from what I did..." he took a deep breath, "It looks like Helena Pierce is dead."

"What?" Clara exclaimed, only just keeping her voice down, her eyes wide with shock.

"Yeah," he nodded grimly, "I think he was talking to Mycroft on the phone, and I heard him say it."

Clara opened and closed her mouth, still shocked, "Oh, this really isn't going to be good, is it?" she finally sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

John began to open his mouth, but Tyler cut him off, "He's leaving." She called back to the others as she watched Sherlock climbed into a car through the window, before driving off down the street. "We should check the flat." She said suddenly, standing to her feet.

"What's wrong?" John asked, noticing the look on her face.

Tyler looked back at her, licking her lips, "Mycroft asked me to keep an eye on him." She shifted her gaze from Clara to John, seeing the look of realization in both their eyes. "Just to be sure."

Clara sighed again, casting a grim look around the flat herself, before nodding in agreement. She was positive that Sherlock was indeed clean, and she doubted that he actually had anything stashed away, but she agreed that it was better to be safe than sorry. Tyler took Sherlock's bedroom, Clara the kitchen and bathroom, and John the living room and even his own bedroom, just to be careful.

Twenty minutes of searching and Clara hadn't found a single thing as she stepped back into the living room, just as John's phone rang and he answered it, putting it on speaker, "He's on his way," Mycroft's voice came over, "Have you found anything?"

"No," John replied, "Did he take the cigarette?"

"Yes."

"Shit," he sighed, looking over to Tyler as she joined them, "He's coming," he told the blonde, "Ten minutes."

"There's nothing in the bedroom," Tyler informed them, shaking her head.

"Looks like he's clean," he turned back to the phone, "We've tried all the usual places. Are you sure tonight's danger night?" he asked.

"No, but then I never am," Mycroft answered grimly, "You and the girls have to stay with him."

"I've got plans."

There was a short pause, "No," he said firmly.

"Mycroft..." he tried, but the call ended. He exhaled heavily, looking frustrated as he slipped the phone back in his pocket, casting a glance over to Jeanette, who was sitting on the sofa, watching him.

Clara watched them with a frown before looking back at Tyler who quirked an eyebrow at her. Clara finally gave in with a sigh, "It's fine, John," Clara whispered to him, giving him a small smile, "Go with her, Tyler and I will stay with Sherlock," he opened his mouth, looking ready to argue, "Go," she said more sternly, "Because if you don't, then you'll never get another date with her again, I can promise you that."

He hesitated, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, just go," she nodded firmly, lightly pushing him.

A large, grateful smile spread across his face, "I owe you," he grinned. Clara simply nodded as she watched John walk away with Jeanette letting out a soft, heavy sigh.

Tyler came up beside her with her arms crossed and a smile on her face, "that was really big of you."

"Yeah," Clara nodded. "I hate not being petty." Tyler laughed at that one, casting a looking over at the brunette beside her.

John and Jeanette eventually left and Clara went downstairs, heading to bed while Tyler set to work making a cup of tea, quickly ducking back to her own flat to grab Sherlock's present, since she hadn't found the time to give it to him throughout the evening.

She had just finished taking the teabags out of the cups when the door downstairs slammed shut, the sound of footsteps followed closely on the stairs, before Sherlock entered the room. He paused in the doorway, his eyes narrowed as he took the room in.

"Hello, Sherly," Tyler greeted calmly, picking up both cups and holding one out to him, "Cup of tea?"

He glanced at her before walking passed and off towards his bedroom, "Hope you didn't mess up my sock index this time," he remarked over his shoulder.

She sighed, rolling her eyes slightly and followed after him, not in the slightest bit bothered when he slammed his bedroom door shut behind him, simply throwing the door open herself and stepping in, "Why do you have a sock index?" She asked, generally curious, ignoring the glare he was giving her, "I mean, what's the point?"

"Go away, Tyler."

She held out the cup of tea again, "Tea?" when he didn't take it, she shook her head and placed the cup on his bedside table and took a seat on the edge of his bed.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed dangerously, "I told you to get out."

"Yes, you did," she agreed, nodding as she crossed her legs casually, "But as a concerned friend, I've chosen to make sure that you are okay before leaving you to mope in here by yourself."

"Is that what we are?" he scoffed at her, "Friends?"

"I would like to think so," She said, not the least bit fazed by his pissy tone. "Despite not always getting along."

"Fine, if you want to be friends, then get out and leave me alone."

Tyler sighed heavily, realizing that it was time to take her leave, and stood, moving towards the door before she paused, glancing back at him, "I almost forgot," she stepped back over to the bed, placing the papered gold and red striped present on his bed, heading back towards the door, "Merry Christmas, Sherly."

She very nearly missed it as she was closing the door behind her, but she was sure she heard him mutter softly from within the room, "Merry Christmas, Tyler."