The future...

"You lied to me..." Sherlock breathed, tilting his head at her in question, stepping forwards cautiously as he found himself enarmoured by her. He couldn't take his eyes off of her, for the fear he would miss something. He couldn't afford that. "Did you know about it?"

Her eyes studied him briefly before she chose to speak, her voice hardened by ice and remaining emotionless. "The orders assigned to me were to infiltrate the home of Sherlock Holmes, and then his life." She paused, clasping her hands before her, retaining her emotions as she watched the Detective. "I was not to expose any personal information concerning myself, or James Moriarty."

"So, did you know or not?" Sherlock pressed testily, his voice low enough to pass for a growl.

"Well, I hardly regard myself as lacking intelligence. Moriarty had me handle Shan... and keep specific situations in preferred order."

Sherlock's face darkened significantly at her confession while she remained silent, his mind deducing what she had told him. "And the bombings... Did you know about them?" He prompted in annoyance, pinching his nose in frustration.

"Sherlock..." Mycroft's voice started but it was drowned out.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed at he looked her over; she stood unmoved and utterly composed, and it worried him. She shifted slightly, just a little, and his eyes hastily ghosted over the change as she spoke again. "I knew his plans, but my strict orders were to keep an eye on how Sherlock Holmes was doing in his progression. I got the missile plans as requested."

His eyes narrowed critically as she continued. "You never bothered to check the flash drive, you were that confident. I had already been to Joe Harrison's flat and copied the files from the original drive." Her voice was steady and sung beautifully, candidly spoken words drifting into Sherlock's mind as he contemplated them all.

Sherlock venture slowly: "So, your flat..."

"I gave Jim a copy of the key."

His fists curled t her words, "And you've been spying on me..." He probed, already having formed her answer in his head.

"In moderation. But yes, that's how he knew to target John and myself." She supplied, her answers not faltering for a single moment.

Sherlock's eyes glazed over with ice, observing with an evident malice at knowing her intentions. "And you let him." He let out flatly as she sighed.

"You never asked the right questions."

"You've lied to me the entire time..." Sherlock let out, slightly in shock of it all, finding his breath was laboured at the registering of her betrayal.

"See, Sherlock?" Mycroft looked to his brother, exasperated as he glanced back to see her eyes now observing him. "She feels nothing for you... You are blinded, brother! I should have- "

She rolled her eyes, folding her arms over her chest tersely. "You do not own me, Mycroft. I do not belong to you, I entrust you remember that." Mycroft recoiled at her tone, his gaze hardening before she continued to speak as though he didn't exist. "I was undermined by my own insolence. You need to send my away again."

Sherlock glanced between them in wonder, finding himself utterly confused... Mycoft knew of all this? "Again?" He demanded, softly as he gaze halted on his brother, his face contorting in silent rage, his frustration growing.

She ignored Sherlock's question and turned to look at Mycroft, her gaze softening some at she regarded the elder Holmes brother. "This time, however, not in response to your own jealousy, Mycroft. I am not bound to you." She explained evenly, watching as he studied her with intrigue. "I will offer my services to you, but I cannot stay; I will be a target now that I have defied him..." She trailed off in though, "Defied him to the Ice man and the Virgin... He'll be ever so disappointed."

Mycroft eyed her, shuddering at the use of the nicknames that he found no pride at having been labelled. "You want to be removed from Sherlock's company?" He quizzed, stepping toward her, looming over her. "I will never place my trust in you again, my dear."

"It is the only logical decision that remains."

Mycroft scoffed, "And what if you betray us again?"

"She never will." Sherlock retorted.

"Why are you so adamantly on her side after all she's done?"

"I made a mistake." She breathed in what sounded to be similar to shock. "I wasn't aware that such a thing could happen, that I'd actually..."

Mycroft's brows lifted in surprise as he observed her, her saw her sincerity and relented. "Why are you so willing to help when I should acknowledge that neither myself or Sherlock should trust you for your dishonesty... You aren't trustworthy, you belongs to Jim Moriarty."

Sherlock smiled slightly at he glanced at her, "She let me in, she let me see the truth in her lies... She trusted me, and I saw it." He told his brother as he watched the woman in awe. She possessed some light to break through the darkness; there was goodness in the evil of her life.

Mycroft nodded thoughtfully, ignoring his brother momentarily as he pondered, conflicted. "... I'll grant you your removal, but who's to say that Moriarty won't try anything?" Mycroft questioned, raising a single brow at her.

She nodded in agreement, her arms falling to hand limply at her side. "That is why you need to send me away, that is imperative for you to do." Her voice had never sounded so grave as it did in that very moment; never so frightened and eerily authoritative.

Mycroft frowned. "I see."

"No." Sherlock said abruptly, causing the pair to look at him in surprise.

"Excuse me?" She demanded, utterly confused as Mycroft watched in slightly confusion at his resistance.

"No." Sherlock repeated in defiance. "I will not subject her to that fate."