The three of them practically ran outside not saying anything as they tried to get as much distance between them and Moriarty as they could. They felt that they may still be in danger even if they weren't. Moriarty was a mad man who kept them on edge. Sherlock hailed a taxi, and the three slide in the taxi finally feeling permitted to speak.

"What the hell was that!?" John shouted at her. He was confused at the Jen he had just saw; he didn't understand what role she played in this game between Sherlock and Moriarty. She didn't even understand the role she played.

"I gave him what I had to to keep you two idiots alive!" she shouted at him angry that he was shouting at her. How ungrateful. Had she not just risked herself to save them? "221 Baker Street!" she shouted at the cabbie. "You didn't listen to my initial warning, so I took it upon myself to get something he wanted!"

"Of course I didn't listen to your initial warning," Sherlock snapped. "Did you really expect me to believe you!?"

"I expected that you would think I have enough decency not to lie about something like that! Are you so dense!?" she shouted at him irritated.

"Dense! You're the one who threatened to ruin me!" he argued back. His voice was harsh and cold.

"I was running on emotion, Holmes! I didn't know what the bloody fuck I was saying! I'm a BPD patient! I'm not exactly right in the head in case you haven't notice!"

"Believe me! I've noticed," he growled. She scoffed and crossed her arms turning to the window not wanting to talk to Sherlock if he was going to shout at her. To be fair, she was shouting at him just as much, and he was making a fair point.

"What did you give him?" Sherlock asked her confused at what happened. How did she get Moriarty to submit?

"What?" she asked turning her attention back to him.

"What was it!?" he shouted at her getting impatient with Doctor Lorraine. "What did you give Moriarty?!"

"Just information," she told him. "I'm not proud of what I just did, but I couldn't let you two die." Silence fell in the cab as they all pondered over what had happened. Sherlock's eyes fell on her and her façade slowly started melting off. Her hands were shaking badly. Her eyes were darting around. She was scared. She was terrified. Something about Jim has unhinged her in a way he didn't think she could be.

"What is it?" he frowned looking over her. "What are you afraid off?" She looked at him with a weary expression.

"Mr. Holmes," she said gently, "I have a darker past than you could imagine, and I just told James Moriarty about it. Don't be surprised if you find me dead tomorrow. I need to make arrangements." She was shaking as she slowly pulled out her phone to dial Damon. Sherlock's hand gripped her wrist to stop her. Her eyes fell on his.

"You no longer have a flat," he remarked, "and you're in danger. You're best chance of survival is to stay with us, and then, you and I will be even. Finally," he sighed. She felt herself twitch.

"Even?! I owe you! You don't owe me!"

"You saved my life," he told her.

"I would either be dead or in jail if it wasn't for you," she reminded him. "I owe you."

"Connor's interest in you that night was my fault. I was fixing an error," he informed her. "Call it a debt finally paid."

"A debt finally paid!? No! It's not paid! I would owe you more than my life," she told him irked.

"If that's what you think, then something can be arranged," Sherlock told her, "but by my count, I owe you a debt, and this will finally settle it." Oh, he couldn't wait until he was free of Ginevra Lorraine. He may even make an attempt to completely delete her from his mind palace, though it had proven nearly impossible in the past as he still hadn't been able to get rid of Anderson all together.

"Jen," John said gently catching her attention, "I think it would be a good idea especially if you're afraid."

"Where am I supposed to stay?" she asked him. "I doubt your flat has the room for me."

"Mrs. Hudson has a flat in the basement. It's damp and not in the best condition. However, with your money and connections, I assume you could have it habitable in a few days," Sherlock told her.

"A basement flat," she said mulling it over. Was it really such a good idea to move herself in the same building as Sherlock Holmes? They weren't exactly on the best terms lately. Yet, she would find some sort of comfort being in the same building as ridiculous as it sounded. If Moriarty wanted her dead, she would have bullet in her head by the end of the night. She did need to find a flat. "Well, I suppose I could- I'll look at it."

"It's late," Sherlock remarked. "You can sleep on the couch and look at the flat tomorrow."

"I don't sleep on Saturday nights," she said absently.

"You don't sleep?" John asked. She looked to him from her window.

"Not on Saturdays," she told him as if it was obvious. "I'm usually up all night keeping my mind busy."

"Oh," John said simply as the cab jolt to a halt, and Jen paid the cabbie before stepping out after John and Sherlock to 221 Baker Street. They pushed open the door, and Jen followed them upstairs. She was exhausted, but she wouldn't sleep. She had too much on her mind.

"Want some tea?" John asked headed into the kitchen.

"Please," she remarked taking her phone from her pocket before she dialed Damon's number.

"Hello, darling," he said happily on the other line teasing her as he always did. "Bit late for a call, isn't it?"

"It's never too late to talk to me, love," she remarked with an equally teasing tone collapsing onto the sofa. "Do you miss me?"

"Ever so much," he told her laughing. "What may I help you with this morning… it's morning isn't it?"

"It is," she agreed. "I am calling to let you know that I am currently staying with John and Sherlock for the night."

"And where is that?"

"221B Baker Street," she replied. "I'll see you tomorrow?" she asked.

"Would you like me to pick you up from Baker Street then?"

"Yes, and I need a new set of clothes."

"I'll send Myra," he told her.

"Good," she said. There was a moment of silence as she debated whether to tell Damon what happened or not. He would be the one to shoot her dead if he knew. She hadn't been exactly careful, and she had no doubt Damon knew Moriarty, at least his name.

"What's wrong?" he asked her suddenly sensing her tension even over the phone. He knew her far too well.

"Nothing," she told him. "Just worried about… things."

"You are the worst liar I have ever met," he told her.

"Shut up, and I'll see you tomorrow," she said hanging up with the phone not wanting to deal with telling him right now. With a sigh, she threw it on the table next to the couch, and John came in handing her a cup of tea. "Thanks," she muttered taking a sip from the cup. She laid down on the couch tapping her nails against the cup. Her eyes were closed, but they were darting around behind her eyelids, evidence that her brain wasn't even close to shutting down. "I need a laptop," she said suddenly not moving.

"You can borrow mine," he told her. He shuffled across the room as Jen sat up. John set the laptop in her lap. "What do you need it for?" he asked as she went to her email.

"I'm giving James what I told him I would. That notecard only had a sentence saying I had it. To make sure I don't get skinned alive, I need to send him the email."

"What are you giving him?" John asked. He didn't like the idea of her giving away national secrets even if she had to.

"A snip of information is all," she replied before she opened an email from Ulric. There was a huge code written down that she didn't understand. She only knew that it was called the Therian Code, and that Moriarty wanted it. She confirmed with Ulric that the only damage it would do is give unlimited access of information to the user. It was a terrible thing to give away especially to a madman, but at least it wasn't nuclear codes, or anything like that. She copy and pasted it before she sent it to an email Moriarty had texted to her while they were in the cab.

"Where did you get it?" John asked her.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Sherlock said finally speaking. He had been silent for a while unbeknownst to John and Jen. He had gone into his mind palace to figure out exactly what Jen had done to get something Moriarty wanted. He came to one logical conclusion. "You used to be an employment of the government, but you claimed you quit. You didn't quit. You didn't just leave; yoe defected, but you needed to lie low, so you found yourself the one place those wouldn't look: a criminal organization. The one headed by your flat mate, Damon O'Hera. Over time, you've gained information and eventually, you gained something useful, and that something useful is what you gave Moriarty."

"That's a very good deduction, Mr. Holmes," she said, and he looked smug about it before she basically pushed him to the ground. "Too bad nearly all of it is wrong. No, I got this from an old… let's call him a coworker. He's a computer genius." Sherlock's smug look fell, and he looked away from her like she had intentionally irritated him, and she did just a little. "I'm no good with technology." She closed out of her email giving the computer back to John. She stood straightening her skirt before she went to grab a pencil off the desk followed by several sheets of paper. She sat down at the round table sitting in the corner of the flat away from the window. She began to draw frantically on the paper; she needed to do something. She was getting antsy.

"Why can't he deduce you?" John asked Jen. She frowned as a light, frantic hand scribbled on the paper.

"There are more like me out there," she told him, "people who can only be seen when they want to be seen. Even the best observers and deductionists in the world cannot tell I'm me unless I want them to even if I'm standing right in front of them. For some of us, it's because we have too many different sides to our personality that they can't pick out which is really us. For me and others, it's that we've lived a lie so long, that we aren't really sure who we are. We can reinvent ourselves and hide anything we want because we hide it even from ourselves."

"How many are there like you?"

"At most? Fifty. At the least? Twenty. We are few and far between," she said trying to drop the subject, and it was successful. John eventually left to sleep leaving Sherlock and Jen alone together. She wondered when he would head to bed, but she suspected if he went to bed at all it would not be anytime soon. It wasn't going to be anytime soon.

A/N: Might get another chapter sometime between now and Tuesday. Haven't decided yet, but I'm off, so I'll have time to spare. Anyway, just a chapter of reaction to what happened at the pool. But now we have Jen and Sherlock alone. Oh, much to talk about. And slowly, very slowly, we are starting to find out what exactly happened between Sherlock and Jen. I would say you'll find out soon, but I would be lying.

One more note: yes, it's very typical for OCs to rent 221C, but really, I'm not going to lie it's incredibly convenient. So bare with the thought, and don't cringe too much. Thanks to my usual reviewers TragicBlossoms and SemiraBlake, and a new reviewer: hannahhobnob! Hope you enjoyed! I'll see you soon! Review please! ~Luna