It had been a full week since Clara had seen or heard anything to do with the strange blonde woman who went by Tyler Jackson. She had long since slipped her mind and she found herself being able enjoy a nice dinner at a restaurant with Greg. She was in the middle of telling him about her time in America when someone bumped into the back of her chair, catching her attention. 

She turned back to see a man with dark hair, and even darker eyes, for some reason he seemed familiar, but she couldn't quite place where she'd seen him before. "Pardon me, miss."

"You're fine." She brushed it off, but the way he looked at her as he walked on by sent a shiver down her spine. She straightened in her seat, not being able to shake this bad feeling she was getting. 

"Are you okay?" Greg asked, snapping her out of her thoughts. She snapped her eyes to him and then down at his hand that he had gently placed over hers. 

Clara shook her thoughts away, "yes, I'm fine. What was I saying?" She smiled at him.

"You were just telling me about your time in America." 

"Oh, right-" Clara opened her mouth to recount the story of all the strange things in the other country, but was once again cut off. 

"Champagne."

"We didn't order any Champagne," Greg held up a hand, frowning slightly as Clara kept getting interrupted. Clara simply sighed, dropping her attention to her food in front of her. "You were saying."

This time the waitress came up behind her, holding out the glass bottle for her to see, "you're Champagne, madam."

Clara sighed, finally turning to look up at the waitress and tell her off, but immediately froze. There was Tyler, holding a bottle of Champagne and a bright smile on her lips. "Tyler?"

Greg frowned, looking between the two women, "you know her?" He asked, bewildered, but neither paid him any mind.

"Don't mind me, I'm just toasting to the happy couple," She smiled at the older man, shaking the bottle vigorously before bracing it against her stomach. "Duck," she ordered Clara who didn't hesitate to drop, just in time for the cork to go fling passed her and hit someone square in the forehead. 

Clara snapped her attention to the target to see the same man who had bumped into her earlier, The man didn't look at all phased by the attack and made a B-line for the blonde a dark look in his eyes. "Don't worry, it's on the house." Tyler smiled brightly, as the man shoved a table aside to get to her. 

Screams echoed throughout the restaurant as everyone scurried to get out of the way. Clara jumped up from her seat, her eyes wide as Tyler grabbed the mans arm and whipped him around to dunk him into the water bowl around the ice sculpture.

"Is that Julio Martinez?!" Greg exclaimed and it suddenly hit Clara where she had seen him before. 

She whirled around to face Greg, "you have to get everyone out of here now." She ordered urgently. She didn't wait for a response before running over to where Tyler and Julio were still fighting. 

The man had Tyler in a choke hold, pulling her backwards towards the exit. Clara hurried over to them and stuck out her foot, causing the man to fall backwards and hit the ground hard, releasing her grip on Tyler. Clara held out her hand and Tyler wasted no time in letting her pull her back up. Julio tried to jump up as well, but simultaneously the girls threw out there legs in a front kick, sending him to the ground. 

"Hey!" They smiled brightly at each other. 

Julio glared darkly at them, but before he could do anything Greg came running over, gun in hand, "Scotland Yard! Freeze!" That got the dark eyed man to freeze in his spot. 

Sherlock sat in the back of the taxi cab, his hands folded together in his lap as he stared at his knees, lost in thought while all the bright lights of London past by the windows. Halfway into the journey back to Baker Street, a small TV screen that was on the back of the driver's seat before him suddenly switched on, playing an advertisement for some sort of phone order jewelry.

"This is a stunning evening wear set from here at London Taxi Shopping..." a smooth, female voice over played over the images of a pearl bracelet on a black display.

He frowned at the screen and almost instantly Tyler's face popped into his mind, knowing her love of jewelry and pearls. Not that she would have worn anything from such a place, but still Tyler's smiling face continued to distract him, though he couldn't imagine why, no doubt simply from seeing something that reminded him of her, like if he was to smell someone on the street wearing her perfume, "Can you turn this off, please?" he said to the driver, needing to focus.

The driver ignored him and the advertisement continued playing, "...as you can see, the set comprises of a beautiful..." the voice over went on.

He sighed, growing annoyed as he glared at the front of the cab, unable to even see the cabbie due to the screen being in the way, "Can you turn this off..." he began again, raising his voice slightly, but he stopped as the image of the screen was filled with static and briefly, flickered to show the face of a man, as if another channel was trying to break through. He tensed, his eyes widening as he recognized the man as Moriarty, grinning back at him through the screen, standing before a pale blue background with fluffy white clouds painted on it as the static cleared completely.

"Hello," Moriarty's voice came over the screen, his voice sing-song and light, as if he was talking to a group of children, "Are you ready for the story?" his smile seemed to grow even wider as Sherlock could only stare at the screen, "This is the story of Rapunzel."

Sherlock snapped his attention to the screen, remembering Tyler telling him about how her favorite fairy tale was Rapunzel. 

"Rapunzel grew to be a beautiful child under the sun, with hair of gold. When Rapunzel was twelve years old the enchantress locked her away in a tower, coming to visit her threw a single window. She called 'Rapunzel, Rapunzel let down your hair'..." his voice grew more serious and the sky background behind him began to darken, the clouds growing grey, "years later, it came to pass that the kings son had rode by the tower and heard Rapunzel's sweet singing voice. He climbed the tower and at first Rapunzel was afraid of the strange man, but soon they fell in love..." behind him, the rain began to pour from the clouds as he went on, "When the enchantress found out of Rapunzel's new friend she was furious." He said, pulling a mock angry face before he shook his head, almost sadly, "So, she waited for the kings son to return" he looked back up the camera, "and when he came he wasn't greeted by Rapunzel anymore, but by the wicked enchantress." He put on a dramatic whisper, "Rapunzel is lost to you, she said. You will never see her again. The kings son was beside himself with pain at the loss of his beloved," he frowned with a mocking sad look on his face as he shook his head, "he escaped with his life, throwing himself out of the tower, but the thorns into which he fell pierced his eyes, blinding him. All because he tried to take what wasn't his," Sherlock bared his teeth at the screen, glaring at it with barely restrained anger as the camera pulled back to show Moriarty sitting on a chair with a book open his hands, his voice growing sing-song once again, "The End."

Behind him, a cartoon of a red curtain dropped down to cover the sky background, just like one would on a theater stage, before the camera suddenly changed to a very close shot of Moriarty's grinning face before the screen was filled with static again, slowly clearing back to the jewelry advert, as if nothing strange had happened.

"Stop the cab!" Sherlock shouted urgently at the driver, just as they rounded a corner, "Stop the cab!" the cab came to a stop along the side of the curb and he quickly grabbed the door handle, pulling it open, "What was that?" he demanded, jumping out onto the footpath, slamming the door as he ran around to the driver's open window, "What was that?" he repeated.

The cabbie, a dark haired man wearing a cloth cap that looked quite similar to the one that the cab driver from his first case with John and the girls, turned to look at him, revealing himself to be none other than James Moriarty himself, "No charge," he grinned back to him, putting on a London accent.

Sherlock's eyes widened in shock and he frantically tried to grab hold of him, but Moriarty, seeming to have expected the move, simply accelerated away, forcing Sherlock to let go and instead try to give chase after the car as he drove off down the street, but it was moving too fast and he came to a panting stop in the middle of the road, realizing that it was hopeless. He glared off after the cab.

"Sherlock," Sherlock snapped his gaze to the right to see Tyler jogging up to him. "What happened? What was that?" She asked, only having caught Sherlock trying to grab at the cab as it drove away. 

"Moriarty."

Tyler's eyes widened as she reached out a hand to touch his arm, "are you okay? He didn't try to hurt you or anything?" He didn't answer, just stared down at her with curious eyes. He knew what the story was supposed to mean, it was a threat for supposedly 'taking' Tyler from him. 

Tyler frowned at the look he was giving her, completely unaware that there was a car speeding straight down the road from behind him, just as the horn sounded and he went to turn around.

"Look out!" a man cried out, and suddenly Sherlock and Tyler found themselves being pulled out of the path of the oncoming car and up onto the pavement.

Not realizing what he was doing at first, Sherlock grabbed the man and pushed him back up against a lamppost as the car speed past them, preparing to hit him, but Tyler stopped in time. "Sherlock, he saved us!" She snapped at him and Sherlock's eyes widened, finally realizing just what had happened and slowly released the man, breathing heavily and with his heart racing madly in his chest. Tyler tossed him a worried look before turning to the man, "Thank you," she said gratefully to the man, who was watching the, warily, and held out her hand to shake his.

The man slowly reached out and took her offered hand, but their hands had barely even touched before three shots rang out from in the distance from somewhere behind Sherlock and Tyler, hitting the man in the chest as they ducked out of the way, staring at the man with wide eyes as he slipped down the lamppost and slumped onto the ground, dead. Tyler gasped as Sherlock quickly began to spin around on the spot, looking up towards the high buildings surrounding him for any sign of the shooter, just as another black cab pulled up on the road behind him and John and Clara jumped out.

"Sherlock!" John called worriedly, running towards them. "Tyler!"

Later on, after the police and an ambulance had arrived at the scene to investigate and take the body away, Tyler stood back slightly, one arm wrapped around her stomach while she twitched her fingers anxiously, watching as the ambulance crew wheeled the man's body over towards the open back of the ambulance, his face still uncovered.

"That... it's him," Clara breathed, catching sight of the man's face as he was wheeled past them. She looked back to Sherlock and Tyler, "It's him. Sulejmani or something. Mycroft and Bree showed me his file," she explained, shaking her head, casting her eyes around the street, "He's a big Albanian gangster lives two doors down from us."

"He died because Tyler shook his hand," Sherlock remarked thoughtfully.

"What d'you mean?" John frowned at him, confused.

"He saved our lives but he couldn't touch my hand," Tyler explained, looking down as she flexed out her hand. "Why?" She turned and began to make her way down the street, knowing that the others would follow. 

The four of them very quickly got a cab to Baker Street, Tyler leading the way into her flat as she began pulling off her coat. "Four assassins living right on our doorstep," She said to Clara and the girls, making her way across the landing and in through the living room door, heading straight over to her laptop which was sitting on the small table between their chairs, 

"They didn't come here to kill Tyler; they have to keep her alive," Sherlock added and Tyler nodded, inclining her head back at him. 

"Exactly," she tossed her coat down onto a nearby chair before taking a seat in front of the open laptop, logging on. "I've got something that all of them want, but if one of them approaches me..." she trailed off, typing something into the keyboard.

"...the others kill them before they can get it," John finished, nodding as he continued to keep watch.

She hummed in agreement, quickly exiting out of her earlier search of St Aldate's School and bringing up the list of local Wi-Fi networks, running her eyes down the list of five that appeared. Sherlock came up behind her, peering over her shoulder as she checked their strengths and found, unsurprisingly, that they were labelled in a foreign language, including Russian, Czech, Estonian, and Albanian. She shook her head, looking back at Sherlock with a knowing look who had his eyes trained on the computer. 

"All of the attention is focused on Tyler," he said to John and Clara , lifting his head, looking around the room quickly, "There's a surveillance web closing in on us right now."

Clara frowned, crossing her arms at Tyler, "So, what have you got that's so important?"

"I don't..." Tyler shook her head helplessly as she ran both her hands down her face with a heavy sigh. "I, uh," She ran her hands through her hairs, coming to rest at the back of her neck, laced together as she tried to think.

"When was the last time you dusted?" Sherlock asked suddenly, and they all turned to see him rubbing his two fingers together in thought. 

"I don't know," Clara shook her head. "Grams usually does that kind of stuff. I'll go get her." With that she turned and left. 

"Dust...?" Tyler frowned before her eyes lit up. "Yes, dust!" She shouted, making John roll his eyes, watching with slight confusion as Sherlock and Tyler began to move around the living room, examining different bits of furniture for dust. It wasn't long before Clara hurried into the room with Mrs. Hudson who was wrapped up in a night gown over her nightdress, looking as if she had been just about to go to bed.

"Precise details," Sherlock said to her, hardly even looking over to her as he moved across to start examining the sliding kitchen door, "In the last week, what's been cleaned?"

"Well, Tuesday I did your lino..." Mrs Hudson began.

"No, in here, this room," he cut across her quickly, still closely examining the edge of the door, "This is where we'll find it, any break in the dust," he stepped across to where there was a set of shelves in the corner, on the other side of the kitchen door.

"You can put back anything but dust," Tyler began to explain as she ran her finger across the shelf above her fire place, "dust is eloquent."

She blinked and glanced over her shoulder to John and Clara, "What're they on about?" she asked quietly, confused. John shook his head and shrugged slightly, not having any idea himself. 

Sherlock climbed up onto the first shelf of one of the built-in bookcases that were beside the fireplace, trying to look more closely at the top shelf, "Cameras," he muttered, peering carefully between the books and different objects on the shelves, "We're being watched."

"What?" Mrs Hudson exclaimed, her eyes widening, "Cameras?" she cringed, looking horrified at the prospect, "Here? I'm in my nightie!"

The doorbell rang as she scurried out of the room, pulling her dressing gown tighter around her neck as she left, while John sighed and he and Clara followed after her to get the door. Sherlock and Tyler continued their search, the later stepped up onto a small table beside her chair, balancing as she walked across to examine the second bookcase. She began eyeing the books closely, but paused as she noticed that one of the books moved a bit more easily then it ought to have and pushed it back further into the shelf, revealing a small camera had been stuck to the side of the shelf. 

"Sherlock," She called his attention and Sherlock hurried over to her, just as the familiar steps of Lestrade, followed by John and Clara, came from behind them.

"No, Inspector," he said calmly but firmly, not even looking back to them.

"What?" Lestrade frowned, looking up at him in confusion.

He stepped down from the table and onto the floor, helping down Tyler who was holding the camera in her hand, "The answer's no," he repeated, eyeing Tyler and the small device. Clara stared at the camera, shocked and startled to imagine that someone had been spying on them

"But you haven't heard the question!"

Tyler turned around to face the three of them, "You want to take me to the station," she said, walking closer to Lestrade, "he's just saving you the trouble of asking."

Lestrade took a deep breath, shifting slightly on the spot, "Tyler..."

"The scream?" she interrupted, raising her eyebrows, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah," he admitted, nodding with a sigh.

"Who was it?" She said thoughtfully, "Donovan? I bet it was Donovan," Lestrade looked up in surprise, while Clara looked between them both in confusion, "Am I somehow responsible for the kidnapping?" She continued, shaking her head, "this is what he wants. He's planted that doubt in her head, knowing she already didn't like me. He wants to ruin everything I have here," She looked around at Clara and the boys before turning a steady gaze on Lestrade. "It's gonna be hard to resist that nagging sensation. You can't kill an idea. Not once it's made a home." She shook her head, turning her back on the rest of them as she tossed the small camera in the air and caught it. This is what he wanted, he wanted the alternative of being without him worse than being with him. He wanted everyone to hate her, to discredit her, so she'd have no choice but to play his little game. 

Lestrade watched her take a seat before the laptop, "Will you come?"

"No. He wants a photograph," She commented, typing something into the laptop as she spoke. "It's his game. First the scream, then a picture of me going in for questioning? He wants to destry my reputation until it's nothing," she stopped typing and picked up the camera from beside the computer, looking at it for a moment before turning his attention back over to Lestrade, meeting his eyes, "It is a game, Lestrade," she told him, very seriously, "And not one that I am willing to play," she looked back to the laptop screen and started typing again, "Give my regards to Sergeant Donovan."

Lestrade sighed heavily and exchanged a quick look with Clara and the boys, before he turned and left the room, disappearing down the stairs as Clara watched him go for a moment. She turned back to see Tyler linking the camera up to the laptop, bringing up the current, live video feed to show an image of Tyler peering into the camera onto the screen. John crossed the room to the right-hand window and pushed the curtain aside, looking down to watch as Lestrade and Donovan, who had apparently been waiting downstairs, climbed into a parked car just outside the door. Lestrade glanced up to him briefly before getting into the car and driving off down the street.

Sherlock glanced over to John, "They'll be deciding," he said, going over to stand behind Tyler. 

"Deciding?" John asked, still looking down at the road.

"Whether to come back with a warrant and arrest Tyler." 

Clara's head snapped back around to him, startled, "You think?"

"Standard procedure," Tyler shrugged, her voice very calm and causal, not seeming to be the slightest bit concerned about possibly getting arrested.

Sherlock stared down at the blonde in thought, she was so calm, so collected it was strange. Like she had finally accepted it all, accepted that there was no getting out of this game Jim Moriarty was playing on her and everyone she ever came in contact with. "Maybe you should've gone with him," Sherlock whispered, noticing Tyler freeze in her typing. "People might think-"

"People might think what?" She turned to face him fully, looking him over carefully. 

He just stared at her, seeming to be struggling with trying to find the right words, "Tyler, I don't want everyone thinking you're...." he broke off meeting Tyler and she was shocked to see a slight tinge of worry in his eyes. 

Tyler maintained eye contact with him for a long moment, "That I am what?" She questioned, her voice quiet.

"A fraud," he replied, not looking away from her.

Tyler sat back in her chair, looking over him over carefully then over at Clara and John, "you're worried they're right," she stated simply. "All of you."

"What?" Clara frowned. 

"You're worried they're right about me."

"No," John shook his head instantly, as Clara said. "No way." 

"That's why you're so upset," Tyler ignored them, as she shook her head again. "You can't even entertain the possibility that they might be right, you're afraid you've been taken into my little game as well." She ended with eyes resting on Sherlock.

"No, I'm not." He insisted. 

Tyler tapped her fingers against the arm of her chair looking around at the three of them. "This is what Jim wants, he wants you all to doubt me. He wants anyone I've ever cared for to leave me like I did him!" Her voice rose until she was practically screaming at the end. She took in a steadying breath, rubbing at her eyes and running her hands down her face. 

Sherlock looked at her for a long moment, hardly even blinking at her outburst, "no, I know you're the real thing." He muttered. 

Tyler's eyes snapped up to him, hearing the certainty in his voice, "are you sure?" She looked from him to Clara and John, who exchanged a knowing look. 

"You'd have to be the real thing to try and compete with me," Sherlock said casually and Tyler just stared at him for a moment, a soft dry laugh escaping her lips.

"You arse." She chuckled, playfully punching his arm. 

"Besides, no one cane fake being such an annoying know it all all the time," Clara added, coming around to sit on the arm of her chair. 

"She's got you there," John agreed with a smile. Tyler looked around at the three of them with bright eyes before turning her attention back to the laptop in front of her, trying to hide her small smile. 

They had returned to Sherlock and John's flat. Sherlock was sitting in his armchair, his mind racing with thoughts and ideas, with John sitting across from him.  Tyler was starring out the window, she knew they were coming for her, it was only a matter of time. And the phone call that Clara was having in the middle of the living room with Lestrade confirmed that thought. 

After a moment, she lowered it and clicked it off, releasing a long, slow breath as he glanced back over to Tyler and the boys, "So, still got some friends on the Force," she commented, her expression tense, "It's Greg. Says they're all coming over here right now, queuing up to slap on the handcuffs, every single officer you or Sherlock ever made feel like a tit, which is a lot of people."

John tossed a worried look between Tyler and Sherlock, even though neither seemed to hear her. Tyler let the curtains drop back in front of the window as she brought her hands up over her mouth in prayer formation in deep thought. That's when Mrs Hudson knocked on the landing door.

"Ooh-ooh!" she called, pushing the door open, catching John and Clara's attention. She paused as she entered the room, frowning slightly as she glanced between the four of them, still in her nightie and holding a Jiffy bag, "Oh, sorry, am I interrupting?" she asked worriedly, noticing how tense John and Clara looked and how Sherlock and Tyler looked like they were a million miles away. She focused on John, "Some chap delivered a parcel. I forgot. Mark 'Perishable,' I had to sign for it," she held out the Jiffy bag and John took it, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the red wax seal over the flap, just like the others, "Funny name," she continued, oblivious as Sherlock's eyes fixed on the bag, "German, like the fairytales."

John broke the seal as Sherlock rose from the armchair, his eyes still fixed intently on the bag as he walked over towards them, just as the sound of police sirens started blaring loudly outside, growing nearer. John reached into the bag and withdrew a gingerbread man, a very burnt and blackened one at that. He moved it so that Sherlock could get a clear view of it, glancing at him.

"Burnt to a crisp," Sherlock muttered, eyeing it warily as outside the noise of cars pulling up sounded and the sirens stopped.

"What does it mean?" Clara asked, frowning.

"They're here." Tyler told them. The sound of car doors being slammed sounded, quickly followed by someone pounding on the door knocker and ringing the doorbell.

"Police!" a voice called loudly through the door.

"I'll go," Mrs Hudson said, hurrying out of the room and off down stairs.

A moment past before Mrs Hudson must have reached the door and opened it, "Tyler..." Donovan's voice came from downstairs.

"Evening, Mrs Hudson," Lestrade's voice followed.

"We need to talk to you!" Donovan called up the stairs, sounding quite smug.

John slipped the gingerbread man back inside the Jiffy bag and put it on the table, moving out onto the landing as footsteps sounded on the stairs.

"Don't barge in like that!" Mrs Hudson said angrily, no doubt due to Donovan pushing her way past her in her hast to see Tyler arrested.

Tyler turned away from the window as the noise of people making their way up the stairs began to grow louder. She stepped back over to the dining table and grabbed her coat from off the back of one of the chairs, calmly pulling it over her shoulder.

"Have you got a warrant?" Clara demanded from outside the living room, apparently blocking the stairs halfway up, "Have you?"

"Leave it, Clara," Lestrade told him, sounding resigned.

"Really!" Mrs Hudson exclaimed as the sound of footsteps started up again, Lestrade no doubt having pushed John and Clara aside, "Manners!"

Tyler met Sherlock's gaze as she adjusted the collar of her coat, and for half a moment she thought she could see worry in his bright eyes. But, just like that it was gone, just as Lestrade and Donovan entered the room, quickly followed by two armed police officers, John, Clara, and an upset looking Mrs Hudson. Tyler calmly held her arms out as Lestrade moved to stand before her, one of the two officers stepping behind the blonde to attach the handcuffs onto her wrists.

"Tyler Jackson" Lestrade began grimly, looking as if he would rather be doing anything else in that very moment then arresting Tyler, "I'm arresting you on suspicion of abducting and kidnapping."

Sherlock's eyebrows shot up at one of the officers roughly forced Tyler's arm behind her back to attach the second cuff. Rougher than he needed too. "She's not resisting." 

"It's fine, Sherly," Tyler tossed him small smile, still strangely calm about the whole thing. Why wouldn't she be? She knew what was going to happen, she knew that Moriarty would try and set her up like this. He held her gaze and he could see it in her eyes, she would find a way out of all of this - she was too good not to. She just needed the right moment. 

It would be inconvenient, but not impossible, especially when dealing with the likes of Scotland Yard. She would just have to be fast, timing would be everything when it came to getting out of this, and perhaps with a nice distraction to add to the mix as well. Still, with every second that ticked by while she was being arrested, it was yet another second gone in finding a way to bring down Moriarty.

Despite himself, he had wound up actually caring for Tyler. He had always strived to live his life based entirely on logic and reasoning, living by a code that his brother had driven into his head. Caring isn't an advantage. He still believed that, after all, with the way this all seemed to be going, he'd never be able to save Tyler if he allowed himself to get distracted and carried away with emotions and 'what if's'. He would likely have found himself in a similar state as John and Clara had been, and what use would that have been? He would do whatever he could to insure that Tyler was safe, make sure Moriarty didn't when in this game he had going with her. Not because he wanted Moriarty to lose, but because, shockingly, she had become one of the few people he would consider to be a friend. 

They argued, and they competed, and there were time he found her to be the most irritating woman on the planet, and he was sure she would say the same thing about him. But she was intelligent, and she saw the world in many ways similar to him. Which was something rare, something he never found in anyone else before. Somehow they had found a friendship in that, a friendship in the understanding of how each other's minds worked - a mutual respect. Which is why he had to believe that Tyler would find a way out of all of this, that she wouldn't let Moriarty win. Because, right now, he couldn't think of the alternative, and it would simply lead to emotional distraction and that wouldn't help anyone, especially her. 

"She's not resisting," John said this time, growing angry and even more upset, "No, it's not alright. This is ridiculous," he shook his head.

Lestrade sighed and look passed Tyler to the officer that had just finished handcuffing him, purposely avoiding meeting Tyler's gaze, "Get her downstairs now," he ordered him.

The officer nodded and grabbed Tyler's arm, spinning her around and marching her out of the room, passing Mrs Hudson as she stood by the kitchen door, looking close to tears as she clutched her hands together up to her mouth, watching as Tyler disappeared out the door.

Sherlock turned back on Lestrade, "You know you don't have to do..."

"Don't try to interfere, or I shall arrest you too," Lestrade warned him, pointing a stern finger at him. 

Sherlock stared him down for a moment, before looking back at Clara and John like he was considering his options. "Alright..." He sighed out and took off to try and stop the officer from taking away Tyler that resulted in him getting cuffed too. He had an idea and he needed to be there with Tyler for it to work out properly. 

"Oh, my god..." Clara sighed out, rubbing at her forehead as now Tyler and Sherlock were both arrested. She watched Lestrade go for a moment before turning her attention to where Donovan was standing by the landing door, a smug little smirk on her face, "You done?" She asked sarcastically.

"Oh, I said it," Donovan said smugly, stepping closer to her and John, looking like Christmas had come early.

"Mmm-hmm?" She hummed, only just managing to restrain herself from shouting. First everything with Tyler and now Sherlock too. 

"First time John and I met," she went on.

"Don't bother," John said shortly, shaking his head at her.

"'Solving crimes won't be enough. One day one of them will cross the line'. Now, ask yourself, what sort of person would kidnap those kids just so she can impress us and Sherlock Holmes all by finding them?"

Clara squared off her jaw turning and before she realize what she did she could hear Donovan grunt in pain as she doubled over and Clara dropped her leg back down to her side. Clara's eyes widened, "Whoopsie."

And then there was one. 

John ran his hands down his face when a middle aged man in a grey suit and large glasses stepped up into the doorway. "Donovan," the man said, moving further into the room.

Donovan straightened and turned to face the newcomer with a small grimace of pain, "Sir," she nodded to him, suddenly respectful.

"Got our girl?" he remarked, casting his eyes around the living room with a slight grimace. Clearly, he didn't think much of the yellow spray-painted smiley face on the bullet riddle wall or the skull sitting on the dusty, messy mantelpiece.

"Er, yes, sir."

The man sniffed and looked around the room once more, "looked like a bit of a weirdo if you ask me," he commented, referring to Tyler as John felt his anger bubbling up inside him. "Often are, these vigilante types," he continued, turning to find John staring at him, "What are you looking at?"

Donovan's eyes widened in alarm, catching sight of the dangerous look on John's face, his eyes fixed on the other man. She lowered her head, knowing what was about to happen as John began to lean back, his fist clench.

Tyler was leaning against the side of a police car, her back facing Baker Street while uniformed police stood scattered around the rest of the street, blocking people from getting a closer look at what was going on. So far, the press had yet to arrive, but he didn't doubt that word would get out very soon and that they would turn up in time to see him being put into the back of the police car.

Next to her was a cuffed Sherlock and Clara, she expected Clara to blow her top, but Sherlock was s surprise. Especially since Sherlock was the first to do so. They had already hooked Sherlock and Clara's wrists together, Tyler assumed because they were only going in for assault and interference, she was the one put on for kidnapping charges. 

"Are you all right, sir?" a male police officer asked someone behind them, and they turned his head slightly to see a middle aged man step out of the front door of Baker Street, his head tilted back as he clutched a bloody white handkerchief to his bleeding nose. The Chief Superintendent, judging by the man's expensive and yet rather modest suit, and the way that the officer had spoken to him. Clara's lips twitched up into a knowing smile as she had passed by him on her way out and John was the only one left upstairs.

Suddenly, John was slammed up against the police car beside Clara by another two officers, one of them holding him in place while the other officer slipped Tyler's left wrist out of her cuff and attached it to John's right wrist, linking them together. Tyler's eyebrows shot up and she looked over passed Clara to Sherlock. 

"Joining us?" Sherlock said, looking across to his flatmate in amusement.

"Yeah," John winced slightly as the cuff around his wrist was tightened, sounding breathless, "Apparently it's against the law to chin the Chief Superintendent."

Clara smirked lightly, "this is fun, I like being criminals together." She said, only half joking getting a chuckle from John.

Sherlock smirked slightly, but his mind was already off thinking of an escape plan, which was slightly complicated now that he had Clara attached to him, and John attached to Tyler, but perhaps it would actually work more in their favor. "Hmm," he hummed, glancing over his shoulder to observe what the police around them were doing, "Bit awkward, this."

"No one to bail us," John remarked.

"I think he was referring to our imminent and daring escape," Tyler replied casually, keeping her voice low. Clara and John both looked to the blonde, startled, as Sherlock looked down and in through the open window of the police car, spotting that someone had left a radio lying on the dashboard of the car console beside an earpiece. The radio squealed slightly as the dispatcher spoke over it.

John blinked, looking from Tyler to Sherlock, "What?" he frowned, certain he had misheard him.

Neither wasted time explaining; instead Sherlock reached in through the car window and grabbed the radio, pressing the 'talk' button on the side of it. All around them, police officers groaned and grabbed at their earpieces, almost doubled over in pain as a high-pitched squeal of feedback went over the earpieces. With his free hand, Sherlock took the chance to reach behind him to one of the doubled-over offices and grabbed the two guns in his holster. He quickly tossed one to Tyler who managed to catch it and aim it at the officer while Sherlock did the same around at anyone else who dared to moved towards them. Clara gasped in shock, her eyes widening at just how fast everything had just happened.

"Everyone on their knees!" Tyler shouted, her eyes hard and her gun steady and Clara and John looked at her a little shocked at how normal that sounded for her. "Now or I will shoot!"  She pointed the gun up in the air and sent of two rounds, which echoed throughout the street, causing many of the officers to flinch. "What did I just say!" She shouted, holding her gun out at them again

Lestrade sighed and raised his arms above his head, "Do as she says!" he told them, gesturing to everyone to kneel, doing just that himself as Donovan slowly did the same beside him. The rest of the officers slowly followed suit, all still seeming to be rather shocked.

"Just- just so you're aware," John began, raising his voice to be heard as they backed away towards the street corner, Sherlock and Tyler with their guns trained on the police, "The gun is their idea. I'm just- We're just a... you know..." He trailed off, looking over at Clara. 

Sherlock swapped the gun over to his other hand, aiming it instead at Clara's head, "...our hostages!" He finished loudly, his expression deadly serious as they continued to back away.

Clara's eyes widened, gasping, "Hostage!" She hissed to Sherlock, "Yes, that works...that works!" they continued backing away to the very edge of the corner, the police still kneeling and making no move to stop them, despite the fact that they had their own guns that could easily overpower them. Sherlock with his gun still pressed to Clara's head while Tyler had her's aimed out at the group. 

Sherlock glanced quickly at Tyler, "So what now?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

Tyler looked passed the three of them and down the next street, mentally calculating the best route to take in order to outrun the police, "Doing what Jimmy wants," she muttered, still backing away, "We're becoming fugitives. Run," She turned and took off down the next street, yanking John along with her as they bolted down the street, running side by side with Clara and Sherlock behind them. She looped the chain of the handcuffs around her wrist, "Take my hand," she told John. 

He looked over at her briefly, not slowing in the slightest as sirens blare all around them, finally lacing his fingers through hers. They neared a junction in the road up ahead, the noise of the sirens growing louder. 

Sherlock suddenly swerved sharply after John and Tyler, pushing her off to the left of the road to where an entrance way to a alley was, dropping the gun in the process, "The gun!" Clara cried, trying to pull Sherlock back to grab it.

"Leave it!" Sherlock shouted, pushing her into the alley and dragging her down the dark, narrow space between two brick buildings, dodging two large bins.

Tyler hoped up onto the fence and sat up on the top, nodding John to hurry after her, knowing with their height they'd have to do this together. Once they got to the top, Tyler looked over at him with a nod, taking his hand, "ready when you are." She said, quoting him from their first case together, when he helped her jump from rooftop to roof top. 

"On the count of three," He nodded. "One... two.. three!" And with that they jumped. 

Sherlock didn't even pause when they reached a high metal fence blocking the alley, instead he easily leaped up onto the bin that was pushed up against the fence and vaulted himself over the top of the railings, forcing poor Clara to be pushed up against the railing, stuck on the other side with her cuffed wrist hanging high over her head so that she was almost forced to stand on tip-toe, her short height making it impossible for her to even attempt to try leaping onto the bin like Sherlock had.

"Guys, wait!" Clara said urgently as Sherlock landed on the other side, Tyler and John stopped a few paces ahead and looked back at them. Clara reached through the bars and grabbed the front of Sherlock's coat, pulling him back to the railing, trying hard to keep herself calm, "We're going to need to coordinate," she told him, her voice stern.

Sherlock looked slightly irritated. He sighed and quickly glanced up to where their wrists were still stuck at the top of the railings, thinking fast, "Go to your right," he instructed her.

"Huh?"

"Go to your right," he repeated, standing on tip-toe himself and lifting his cuffed wrist up, trying to get the chain over the fences spike.

It took a fair bit of moving and adjusting, but finally they managed to get Clara over the fence. Clara had barely straightened before they were off again, running down the other side of the alley, coming to a T-junction. Tyler went to lead the way off down the right side, but quickly ducked back out of sight once more as a police car came racing past the end of the alley, its lights and sirens going off. The four of them paused, panting as they leaned their backs up against the brick wall of the alley, waiting for it to pass as they tried catching their breath.

"Everybody wants to believe it, that's what makes it so clever," Tyler said hurriedly, looking back at the three of them. "First there was Sherlock Holmes, he was just one man, everyone could handle one man standing above them all. And I came along, no one wants to believe that someone else could compete with him," she looked away, her voice taking on a bitter tone. "My intelligence a sham. Not one feel inadequate; Tyler Jackson is no Sherlock Holmes, she's just an ordinary person." 

"What about Mycroft?" John suggested, still sounding slightly breathless, "Or Bree. They could help us."

Tyler suddenly yanked John across to the other side of the alley, causing John to grunt in discomfort as he was pulled around while reaching out to take Clara's hand to make sure the others followed. Tyler carefully peered around the edge of the corner and down the left side of the T-junction.

"A big family reconciliation?" Sherlock said sarcastically, "Now's really not the moment," he spun around, half swinging Clara around with him as he looked back down the way that they had come, checking to make sure that they weren't being tracked.

Clara stumbled slightly before she managed to right herself, but as she looked back up, something at the end of the right side of the alley caught her eye, "guys," she hissed, elbowing Sherlock's side to get his attention, nodding over to where a man was peering around the corner up ahead of them, watching, "We're being followed," she told them, sighing, "I knew we couldn't outrun the police."

"That's not that police," Sherlock shook his head, eyeing the man, speaking fast, "It's one of our new neighbors from Baker Street."

Tyler followed their gaze, her eyes narrowing in thought, "Let's see if he can give us some answers."

She took off running down the opposite side of the alley from where the man was still watching them, pulling John along with her as the four of them made it to another corner, flattening themselves against the wall as Tyler ducked her head around the edge of the wall and looked out onto the street. There wasn't any flashing red and blue lights, no police cars or officers roaming around this street quite yet, but a red double decker bus was driving down the road, nearing the alleyway that they were hidden in. She pressed herself back against the wall, she met Sherlock's gaze and he nodded at her. 

"Where are we going?" John asked, whispering.

Sherlock  glanced back around to watch the bus, "We're going to jump in front of that bus," he replied calmly.

"What?" Clara exclaimed, his eyes widening.

"Not you, wait here." Tyler rushed out so fast, she wasn't sure Clara heard her, but it didn't matter. Tyler took John's hand and took off running, dragging John along as they dashed across the street and out into the middle of the road, coming to a stop right in the path of the approaching bus. They waited, for what John didn't know, the headlights of the bus half blinding them, when someone suddenly came running towards them and shoved them off to the side of the road, just before the bus could hit them. They hit the ground, hard, but Tyler didn't even blink as she sat back up and pulled out the gun she still had, aiming it straight at the man's face, her finger on the trigger.

"Tell me what you want from me," she ordered, her expression deadly serious. The man's eyes widened, shocked as he stared down the barrel of the gun, not saying a word. Tyler moved the gun closer to him, glaring, "Tell me!" she demanded angrily, as Sherlock and Clara came jogging up behind them. 

"He left it at your flat," the man told him, his eyes flickering back and forth between the gun and Tyler's face.

"Who?" She questioned, narrowing her eyes.

"Moriarty."

"What?" Tyler frowned, as Clara struggled to help her and John to their feet as her hand was still cuffed to Sherlock's. The man also stood with the gun still aimed at his head.

"The computer keycode," the man answered.

"Of course. He's selling it, the program he used to break into the Tower. He planted it when he came around..." Tyler shook her head, her eyes widening in realization. It was more than just advertising what he could do, it was a sale. 

Suddenly, three gunshots rang out from one of the building's surrounding them, and the man dropped onto the pavement, dead. The four jumped, looking up around to the buildings around them, trying to work out where the shooter was, but it was impossible to locate and the sound of police sirens started up again in the distance. They took off running again down the street, ducking into a doorway, just as a police car with its lights flashing drove past the end of the road.

"It's a game changer," Tyler remarked after a moment, panting slightly, "It's a key, it can break into any system and it's sitting in my flat right now. That's why he left that message telling everyone where to come. 'Get Tyler Rose,'" she ducked her head back around the edge of the doorway, checking, "We need to get back into the flat and search."

"CID'll be camped out," John said, glancing around the other side of the doorway, "Why plant it on you?" he frowned, looking back to them

"It's another subtle way of smearing her name," Sherlock answered for her. "Now she's best pals with all those criminals,"

A stack of newspapers sitting just outside of the doorway caught Clara's eye. She frowned and moved forward, picking up one of them instantly recognizing it, "Yeah, well, have you seen this?" she held the paper out for all of them to see. It was an edition of the Sun with a small headline at the bottom of the front page advertising an upcoming expose by Kitty Riley, called 'Tyler Jackson: The Shocking Truth'. She glanced at Tyler, "A kiss and tell. By Rich Brook," Tyler looked away, realization crossing his face, but no one seemed to notice, "Who is he?"

It was almost laughably easy for Sherlock and Tyler to figure out where Kitty Riley lived, in fact the hardest part about the whole thing had been getting to the row house that had been turned in flats was having to go through the back roads and alleyways. They easily made their way into the house and found a spare key hidden, typically, beneath a mat by her front door.

They didn't have to wait very long, barely having enough time to properly start getting comfortable in her darkened living room as the four of them sat on her sofa, before the noise of a car door sounded from outside. Heeled footsteps reached them through the bay window before the front door opened and closed, but the footsteps paused as they came to the door of the flat, which they had left slightly open. Cautiously, the door was pushed open and the lights were switched on, lighting up the living room and Sherlock, John, Clara, and Tyler sitting on the sofa, still handcuffed together. Kitty Riley's eyes widened.

"Too late to go on the record?" Sherlock asked lightly, not even looking at her.

Kitty simply stared at them, shocked, but her shock didn't last very long before she stepped fully into her flat and shut the door behind her, dropping her handbag as she moved to take a seat in an armchair across from the sofa. She watched, not saying a word, as they stood and began using a Bobby pin that they had found on her vanity to free themselves from their cuffs.

"Congratulations," Sherlock said sarcastically as he worked on the handcuff around his wrist, "The truth about Tyler Jackson," he twisted the hairpin and the cuffs popped open, allowing him to finally pull his left hand free and start to pace in front of Kitty's chair, leaving Clara to work on freeing his own wrist, "Not the scoop that everybody wanted, but a very close second, hm. And you got it," he looked back across to her.

"Bravo!" Tyler smirked sarcastically, clapping her now free hands. 

"I gave you your opportunity," Kitty said calmly, seeming to be completely unfazed, "I wanted to be on your side, both of yours, remember? You turned me down, so..." she actually looked slightly sorry, though for what, was anyone's guess.

"Tell me," Tyler rested her chin int he palm of her hand. "Who's Richard Brook." Kitty looked briefly down and shook her head, making his expression darken.

"Oh, come on, Kitty. No one trusts the voice at the end of a telephone," Sherlock continued. "There are all those furtive little meetings in cafes, those sessions in the hotel room where they gabbled into your dictaphone. How do you know that you can trust him? A man turns up with the Holy Grail in his pocket," his voice grew sterner, glaring at her, "What was his credentials?"

There was a metal clicking noise outside, like the front door was being open and closed. Kitty, who had been looking almost close to actually talking, looked quickly over towards her flat door and stood, a flash of concern crossing her face when someone pushed the door open. Sherlock, John and the girls all turned to look, their eyes widening in shock to find none other than James Moriarty stepping in through the door carrying plastic shopping bags in his hands. There was no expensive Westwood suit this time; instead he was wearing a shabby shirt and maroon cardigan, appearing not to have shaven for at least two days and with his hair mussed. He looked like he might have just rolled out of bed and thrown on whatever clothing he could find, a far cry from the usually clean polished appearance that Moriarty typically displayed.

"Darling," Moriarty called, not having looked up yet to see just who else was in the room, "They didn't have any ground coffee so I just got normal..." he finally looked up to find four eyes staring back at him, and dropped the shopping bags in his hands. He took a step back until he hit the wall behind him, looking completely terrified as he held out his hands protectively in front of him, "You said they wouldn't find me here," he said, almost frantically, his voice trembling as he glanced over at Kitty, but his eyes quickly flew back to Sherlock and then Tyler, "You said I'd be safe here."

"You are safe, Richard," Kitty assured him, her tone calm and firm, "I'm a witness. She wouldn't harm you in front of witnesses."

John, still completely shocked, pointed at Moriarty, "So that's your source?" he asked, anger starting to seep into his voice, "Moriarty is Richard Brook?"

"Of course he's Richard Brook," Kitty told him, rolling her eyes, as if to think otherwise was completely absurd, "There is no Moriarty. There never has been".

"What are you talking about?" Clara demanded, shaking his head. Sherlock was still staring at Moriarty, his eyes wide, for the first time actually seeming to be speechless. Tyler had her eyes on him, taking in his whole person trying to figure him out. 

"Look him up. Rich Brook, an actor that Tyler Jackson hired to be Moriarty..."

Jim nodded, still pressed up against the wall with his hands held up before him, "Doctor Watson, Dr. Hudson" he began, his voice still shaking nervously as he turned to look at John and Clara to Sherlock, "Sherlock. I know you're good people," he flinched as John glared furiously at him, "Don't- don't h- don't hurt me".

"No, you are Moriarty!" John shouted, his voice full of rage, so much so that his entire body was shaking with it as he pointed at Moriarty as he coward against the wall. He briefly glanced back to Kitty, "He's Moriarty!" he turned back to the other man, still shouting, "We met, remember? You were gonna blow Clara up!"

"I'm sorry," he breathed, sounding close to tears as he covered his face with his hands, "I'm sorry," he lowered his hands from his face and gestured over to Tyler, "She paid me. I needed the work. I'm an actor. I was out of work. I'm sorry, okay?"

Clara's eyes were wide, frustrated tears beginning to form in her eyes as she looked from Jim to Tyler, trying to shut out Moriarty's shouting, "Tyler, you'd better... explain... because I'm not getting this," She stuttered, shaking her head. 

"Oh, I'll- I'll be doing the explaining, in print," Kitty cut in, smirking. She grabbed her handbag and withdrew a folder, "It's all here..." she handed it to Clara, who quickly flipped it open, "Conclusive proof," Clara stared down at the mock-up for her upcoming article, the text already written out, with a space left at the top of the page for a picture. She turned back to Tyler as John and Sherlock came up behind Clara to see it for themselves, "You invented James Moriarty your ex-love interest and nemesis."

"Invented them?" Sherlock's head snapped back up to stare at her, shaking his head again, and for the first time in his life he was struggling to comprehend what he was hearing. He was supposed to believe that Tyler had made this whole thing up, that Moriarty was a made up bad guy all to impress him. 

"Mmm-hmm," Kitty hummed in agreement, "Invented all the crimes, actually, and to cap it all..." she turned back to Tyler, "You made up a master villain."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous!" John snapped. 

Kitty glanced back at John, before pointing over to Moriarty, "Ask him! He's right here! Just ask him," she insisted, "Tell him, Richard!"

"Look, for God's sake, this man was on trial!" John burst out, furious.

"Yes..." she nodded, and pointed back across to Tyler, "And you paid him, paid him to take the rap. Promised you'd rig the jury," Tyler simply stared back at her, not saying a single word, "Not exactly a West End role, but I bet the money was good," she continued, walking over to Moriarty and wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders, his arms still raised in front of him. She sent Tyler a look, "But not so good that he didn't want to sell his story."

Moriarty looked back to Clara and the boys, pressing his hands together, "I am sorry," he told him pleadingly, "I am. I am sorry."

"So- so this is the story that you're gonna publish," Clara scoffed, pointing at Moriarty, "The big conclusion of it all: Moriarty is an actor?" She shook her head in disbelief. 

"She knows I am," Moriarty tried desperately, looking upset, "I have proof. I have proof. Show him, Kitty!" he turned to her, "Show them something!"

"Yeah, show us something." John narrowed his eyes. 

John watched as Kitty hurried back across the room to her handbag, rummaging around inside it. Behind them, Jim put his hands over his face and turned towards Tyler, who still hadn't taken her eyes off him. He lowered his hands slightly to look directly at him, a triumphant smirk crossing his face as he stared back at Tyler, revealing his true character just for a second. Tyler's mouth lifted up very slightly, but she didn't look the slightest bit amused as she continued to watch Jim. Kitty stood from her bag with another folder in her hand and walked back over to Clara and the boys, passing it to Sherlock. 

Moriarty instantly slipped back into his fake persona as they looked down at the folder, "I'm on TV," he said to them as he turned back to face him, his voice sounding very panicked once more, almost frantic, "I'm on kids TV. I'm the Storyteller."

They looked down at a list of Richard Brook's contact details from some talent agency. There was another slip of paper in the folder, a newspaper clipping with a picture of Moriarty wearing hospital scrubs and with the headline, 'Award Winning Actor Joins the Cast of Top Medical Drama'. Everything looked so convincing, so real, but they knew it wasn't, that it couldn't possibly be.

"I'm- I'm 'the Storyteller,'" Moriarty tried again, "It's on DVD," he looked back across to Tyler not dropping the façade this time. He gestured towards Clara and the boys, "Just tell them," he said pleadingly to Tyler, "It's all coming out now. It's all over," his voice began to grow frantic, "Just tell them. Just tell them. Tell them! It's all over now..." Tyler advanced on him, her fist clenched, looking furious, "No!" he suddenly shouted, terrified as he jumped back and fell onto a small set of steps that lead up to the bedroom, which was on a slightly higher level of the flat. He held his hand out in front of him, staring back at Tyler with wide eyes, "Don't you touch me! Don't you lay a finger on me!"

"Stop it," Tyler snapped, furious as she glared back at the man. "Why are you doing this?!" She shouted.

He scrambled onto his feet and took off running up the stairs, "Don't hurt me!" he cried as he ran.

"Don't let him get away!" Clara called as the four of them took off up the stairs after him.

"Leave him alone!" Kitty yelled after them, coming to stand at the bottom of the stairs.

Moriarty dashed across the bedroom and over to a door, throwing himself into the next room and slamming the door closed behind him. Sherlock reached the door just as it closed on his face and began trying to use his shoulder to shove it open, forcing it open, only to find that the small bathroom behind the door was empty and that a window had been left open, Moriarty nowhere in sight. 

Tyler dashed across to look outside the window, before shaking her head, turning away. "No, no, no," She passed the others as they moved to look out the window, too, moving back into the bedroom, "He'll have backup."

Tyler quickly made her way back across to the stairs, but Kitty stepped into her way, purposely backing down each step a slowly as she could, "D'you know what, Tyler Jackson?" she smirked up into her face, smug, "I look at you and I can read you," she stepped forward, right up into her face as Tyler stared back at her, "welcome to Hell." 

Tyler moved past her and walked out the door, while Clara and the boys pushed past Kitty, still holding the folder as they followed after the blonde, stepping out into the middle of the street as Tyler began pacing rapidly in the middle of the road.

"Can he do that?" John questioned, casting a quick glance around the street to make sure that there wasn't any police hanging around to catch them, "Completely change his identity, make you the criminal?"

"He knows my whole life story," Tyler whirled around on them with big eyes, and for the first time she looked like she was scared.

"That's what you do when you sell a big lie," Sherlock added in a mutter. "You wrap it up in the truth to make it more palatable."

Clara sighed heavily, "Your word against his."

"He's been planting doubt in people's minds for the last day and a half." Tyler whispered her mind racing. What was next? What else could he possibly do? What was he leading up to? Tyler's eyes snapped open in realization, her hands coming up to cover her mouth. I owe you a fall

Sherlock looked up from the folder he had been still looking at, frowning at her back, unable to see her expression, "Tyler?" 

Tyler stared off down the street, "Something I need to do." Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her, trying to read her... he'd never been good at doing that. 

"What? Can we help?" Clara took a small step forward, frowning in concern. 

"No," She said at once, "On my own." And with that she walked off, leaving Clara and the boys to watch her go. She pulled out her phone as soon as she was far enough, "Mycroft..." she whispered, finally letting her fear and worry filter into her voice. "I need your help." 

~*~

Tyler stood in the empty laboratory of Bart's Hospital, knowing that everyone had gone home for the day. it was was the only place no one would expect her to come. Which made it the perfect spot to wait for Mycroft and Bree to show up. 

Which didn't take long. The door opened up and Tyler looked up from her spot sitting on the counter to see Mycroft and Bree coming inside. She met her sister's gaze, "are you sure about this?" 

"We did it once," Tyler reminded her and Bree nodded, remembering just how they managed to get away from Jim the first time. 

"This will break Sherlock," Mycroft told her seriously and Tyler's eyes snapped to him. "he won't admit it, but he cares for Tyler."

"I know," She whispered and her heart broke at the thought of hurting him, but this was the only way to save him. "You've gotta watch out for him. Don't let him fall of the wagon, okay?"

Mycroft tilted his head towards her, "always."

"What do you need?" Bree asked, and Tyler took in a deep breath. She was really about to do this.