Disclaimer: I own none of these characters except two of them.

Chapter 1: Forgive and Regret

Sherlock whimpered as John pushed his hot cock deep into him. Holmes never thought John would do something like this to him, but then again, he never thought he would enjoy it and it's not rape if you enjoy it. Right? John's thrusts were getting harder and faster if that were possible, and the feeling of Johns cock rubbing against his prostate was pure ecstasy but Holmes knew this was not right… not normal.
"Jo-hn…Ugh- I told you…Hn- don't l-let-those gypsies…Ha-Aah…make you drink." Yeah that's what happened. Simza asked John if he wanted to dance and he ended up drinking too; he never listens to Sherlock, "John! It's ah…so tight. Stop!"
John didn't listen; he continued to thrust into the warm slick hole of Sherlock Holmes. The sound of skin against skin, hot breath, and low pitched screeches sounded through the tent. John began to murmur something which just solidified Holmes suspicions. "You like that don't you Mary? You're such a bad girl, look how you're squeezing my dick." Sherlock understood, John wasn't doing it with him, he was doing it with his wife-technically speaking since his wife wasn't here- it would make sense since, they are married and he had dragged John all the way to France during their honeymoon period but when it came to actually hearing that John wasn't thinking of him it hurt. John had stopped thrusting as he reached his climax and he released his semen deep inside Sherlock. Sherlock, surprised by the intrusion of an unknown element released his seed as well, John didn't pull out. Instead, he fell on top of Sherlock falling asleep with his semi hard cock still inside him, Sherlock couldn't shake the feeling that he was going to regret this somehow.

**At the Peace Summit**
Holmes had to get one last look at his dearest friend before he gave his life to save John Watson and Mary Watson. At last minute, it seemed that the formidable Sherlock Holmes had gained feelings for the one person who stayed by his side through thick and thin and now, he had to say goodbye. Sherlock wished that he could tell John that he loved him and that he was sorry for putting him through everything. While he, Sherlock, had an iron like grip around the devil who had wreaked such havoc, Watson had managed to stop the assassination of the Prime Minister and made his way to the balcony that Sherlock and Moriarty were occupying. Upon opening the door, he found Sherlock locked with Moriarty and without a word pushing him and his captive over the balcony wall.
John just stood there looking on as his friend and Moriarty went over the edge. He couldn't help but feel irritated that Sherlock has disregarded his feelings once again and did whatever he wanted. Holmes couldn't be dead because he was like a roach; nothing could kill Sherlock and if it could he would have a backup plan.
"Dammit Sherlock why do you do this to me? I know you aren't dead, so you better come back." Watson said looking over the wall that dropped into the water fall.
**4 years later**
"Mary, I'm home." John called as he stepped into the foyer of the house.
"Hello dear, how are you?" Mary walked up and kissed her husband of four years on the cheek.
"I'm fine, and how are you dear?" John swept his wife off her feet and she giggled.
"John, stop it." He soon placed her back on her feet and she straightened herself out.
"So what's for dinner today?" John asked now remembering how hungry he was and he just loved his wife's cooking but then again, many people did.
"Today we are having biscuits and gravy." She said heading back to the kitchen. That was one of John's favorite dishes and she never made it unless it was for a special occasion (she doesn't like the dish very much). John began to remember how Sherlock would make it for him. Surprisingly, Sherlock was an okay cook when he wasn't being a sarcastic arse-hole and he loved making food for John. John always wondered where Sherlock learned to cook like he did but now he couldn't ask because his dear friend was dead, gone, kaput, no longer living. It saddened him because the first couple of years, he just knew Sherlock wasn't dead and he had the oxygen flask and question mark on his typed story to prove it but after two more years he wouldn't dare entertain the thought of him being alive because if he did, it would eat him from the inside out. Even Mrs. Hudson had missed him and that was really saying something.
John soon decided to cast the thought out of his mind and made his way into the kitchen and ate his dinner. Upon sitting down to his meal, Mary began to stare at him intensely and he felt that if she kept staring at him, he would never be able to enjoy his dinner properly.
"What is it dear? Have I got something on my face?"
"I know we have been trying for a very long time but, I want to try again."
"…You mean you want to try to have a baby again?" John inquired.
"Yes."
Over the past four years, Mary and John had been trying for a baby but were never successful. Of course the subject of children had been a sore topic for Mary and for her to bring it up was something.
"Well then, why don't we try after dinner?' Marry agreed and so right after dinner, they got busy.

The next morning was extremely bright considering that it was spring it was surprising that it wasn't totally hot. Through the British streets, a group of three walked through the streets holding hands. They all wore cloaks and hoods that covered their faces; there was a big one in the middle and two little ones at their side. The group made their way through the crowded streets and a deep voice spoke, "Stick close, I don't want either of you getting lost. Okay?"
The two smaller voices both said, "Yes." And they continued their way through the congested roads. They soon stopped at a door that read 221B Baker St. The biggest of the three knocked loudly on the black wooden door and patiently waited for someone to answer. Soon someone did, a woman tall for her gender and still looking young- Mrs. Hudson.
"Yes, how may I help you?" Mrs. Hudson asked curious as to who the person was when people rarely came to her house save one, John Watson.
"I was wondering if you had any rooms for rent." The deep voice said keeping their head down and keeping their hands clenched around the two smaller figures hands.
"I have one room but it- I haven't cleared it out yet." The women spoke.
"That is fine, we are all so very tired and we would like a place to stay just for tonight if you would not like us staying here. Just please let us stay the night and we will get out of your hair by tomorrow."
The woman thought about the offer and then nodded yes and signaled the group to come in.
Now Mrs. Hudson was not stupid. She may not look it, but her being Holmes' landlady for quite some time, she knew how to deduce some things and she could definitely tell that this person was someone familiar. She closed the door and looked at the group who were formally taking off their shoes, she crossed her arms. "Sherlock Holmes, do you know how long it has been and how worried sick I have been?" The taller figure smiled and pulled back the hood that covered his face. "Long time no see Nanny. It's good to see you again."
"Oh really, that's surprising to hear. After all I spent my entire time trying to poison you."
Sherlock laughed and hugged Mrs. Hudson who was surprised by the action.
"Sherlock, what is wrong with you? Are you sick?" She felt his forehead, "You feel feverish. Sit down now; I will treat you then you will explain this entire thing."
Sherlock followed her into the living room and took off his cape. He sat down on a chair that was his favorite chair to sit on when he wasn't in his room testing out guns, and poison and using drugs. The two smaller figures followed him into the living area and he pick both of them up and placed them on his laps. Mrs. Hudson was in the kitchen.
The first one spoke in a tiny voice, "Daddy, do you think she will like us?"
Sherlock surprised answered, "Of course she will like you Beth, and she has no reason not to."
The second responded, "But Daddy, she tried to poison you."
"Lilly don't take that seriously it was just a joke. Now why don't we practice those deduction skills?"
The twin three year old girls nodded as they waited for their Father to give them some-thing to analyze. "Okay so we came into the foyer and sat down what did you notice?"
The two girls sat and thought about it and then the youngest one Lilly, answered, "Some-one came previously before us."
"Well what do you mean; many people have been in here before us." Sherlock countered
"No a man with about a seven in a half size shoe came in."
"How do you know that it was seven in a half?"
"There are dried mud tracks on the floor; the lady hasn't gotten around to cleaning it. By the imprint on the bottom of the shoe, it was someone important. A police officer."
Sherlock smiled at his little girl; yeah Lilly took after him the most. "What about you Beth?"
"Hmm, he has a small limp." Beth wasn't the stronger analyzer, but she could tell if something had a medical problem just by looking at it."
"And why do you say that?"
"Because, there is different pressure on each step he took. The imprint isn't as strong on the left as on the right."
"Very good girls."
Beth looked at her Father, "I'm not as good as Lilly when it comes to deducing. I was first born how come I didn't get it?" Beth pouted but Lilly just looked on at her sister who was clearly upset.
"Sweetie, When I see you I see your Father. He wasn't as good as deducing as me, but he was still good and he had a thing for telling medical histories. He was very good at it and I think you may be better than him when it comes to seeing medical problem."
"Really?" Beth's face lit up and that made Sherlock smile.
"Yes. When I look at you, I see your fathers blue eyes and wide smile, and his no non-sense attitude, but you also have my free spirit. Lilly, when I look at you I see my brown eyes and always calculating glance, but you have the most innocent and sweetest look, like your other Father."
"Whose hair looks better?" Both girls asked
"Now you both know I couldn't possibly choose. I love Beth's straight blondish -brown hair that actually looks like the color of honey in the sun, but I also love Lilly's light brown curls that frame her face so nicely. Such a hard choice so little time."
Just as Sherlock stopped talking, Mrs. Hudson came out with a towel and pot of tea some biscuits and jelly. "Hope I didn't take long, oh I'm sorry I didn't see these little beauties when you came in." Mrs. Hudson put the platter on the coffee table, "And what might your names be?"
Sherlock encouraged the two girls to answer. Beth being the most charismatic of the two and talkative introduced herself, "My name is Beth and this is my sister, Lilly. We're twins."
"Well isn't that sweet; you girls are just too cute. How old are you?"
Lilly spoke this time, "We are both three!"
"Yet you speak so eloquently, and will a women be coming here later? I presume that your Mother will meet you here. ...Or is your Mother deceased?" Mrs. Hudson cast her gaze downward. How could she ask such an incentive question to three year old's?
"No our Mommy is very much alive and he..." Beth realized the mistake she almost made and stopped talking just as quickly as she started. Sherlock could feel the tension in the room thicken and so he dealt with it the best way he could , "Um I think I should go and give them a bath as to get them ready for bed." Sherlock hurriedly said.
"But it's still early."
"We have had a long day. Once I get them clean and to bed we can talk, which reminds me, do you have any clothes that they could wear?"
"I'm sure I do, I will go and look." Mrs. Hudson raced off to another room while Sherlock took Lilly and Beth up stairs to the washroom. They stripped their clothes off and Sherlock ran the hot water in the tub. When the water was just right and the tub was filled, he placed both of his daughters in to the steamy liquid. Sherlock got a rag and began to soap it up to wash his babies from head to toe.
Sherlock got to work scrubbing the dirt off of each of his daughters. His mind drifted off to the night where it all started, he couldn't believe he thought he would regret it. Once his daughters were born, he fell in love with them. They were his reason for not drugging himself into a stupor, or fighting until his bones cracked, they were his anchor and he would do his best to protect them for as long as there was breath in his body.
"Oh I almost forgot, are you two hungry?"
"No," Beth answered.
"See Auntie and Uncle gave us snacks for the road and we have been eating them bit by bit." The little girls didn't look at their father scared that he would reprimand them.
"I cannot believe that you did not share with your Father." The two tannish girls continued looking down at the soapy water instead of their father. They hoped he wasn't mad at them.
"Of course I'm not mad at you. I find it quite hilarious actually." This statement still didn't make the girls feel better, "Well you do know what this means don't you, you're going straight to bed then." The little girls nodded and soon they were out of the tub, dressed and in bed. Sherlock when he was sure they were asleep headed down stairs and talked with Mrs. Hudson.
"So would you like to tell me why you disappeared for four years and where you got those two little girls from, because if you are using them as means to escape a tongue lashing, you will not be escaping on this night!"
Sherlock looked down at his tea cup, by the contents, it was Darjeeling. He loved Darjeeling and Mrs. Hudson had remembered. "I left to protect Watson."
"How so, because as far as I know, all you have done is caused him heart ache."
"I left so that Mary and John could live together in peace without me interrupting; if anything happened to John, I wouldn't forgive myself, and as to answer the question of the little girls, they are my biological daughters."
"Okay, but who is their mother? Sherlock Holmes you wouldn't do such a heinous crimes as separating them from their Mother would you?" Sherlock sighed
"I am their Mother. I gave birth to them after carrying them for nine months and I have the stretchmarks to prove it. As to their Father I will keep that bit of information to myself but let it be known that it was non consensual and I have forgiven him but I feel no regret to what happened because those two little angels upstairs are all I need now. They are my life."
Mrs. Hudson didn't say anything, just took in all of the information and then finally said, "I reckon you will need some cream for those marks as for a place to stay ... the room, your old room is yours. Though I have cleaned it up a bit, it's not fit for a pair of small children. …Welcome back Sherlock."
"Thank you for taking this so well. They are not sleeping in my room until I have cleaned it properly and it's good to see you aswell Mrs. Hudson." They shared a small smile then Mrs. Hudson cleaned up the tea and Sherlock bathed and scooched into the bed next to his girls.
"Good night my girls, my darling angels. Have sweet dreams." Sherlock kissed both of them on the forehead and slipped into his own dream filled sleep.