*Screams happily* Oh, I am just so happy with my new beta reader Kirby77DP77. Oh, what a wonderful person you are! So thank you! Trust me people, without Kirby this chapter would have annoyed you! By the way, did I mention I have a beta reader now?

Lanshannarra – Thanks! I'm so glad I made Moriarty creepy (it's kinda what I was going for ;))

IAmTheMedusa – Yes I did :) I wanted Moriarty to be extra evil and mean! Idk why, I just thought it make the fic more interesting. ;)

TheScienceODeduction – O.O Martin Freeman with long hair! LOL! That would be priceless! XD

The Science Of Seduction – THANKS! I'm glad it's as good as Sherpunzel! :D

Kirby77DP77 – Thanks, I'm actually surprised no one has tried this idea… ;)

And here is MORE:

Sherlock got home feeling very wide awake at five in the morning. Only one thing was on his mind and that was the tower of the mansion. 'Who or What is up there?' he wondered.

The consulting detective texted Lestrade. The dark haired man had to give the DI something. He didn't want Lestrade to find that mansion, since Sherlock wanted to examine the tower himself. Sherlock needed to keep Lestrade distracted and away from the mansion. The DI might lose his reliance in the consultant if the killer was not found or if Lestrade didn't get to make an effort of trying to find the killer. Therefor Sherlock knew what was the best thing to do in order to keep Lestrade happy. So he texted Lestrade the following message:

Chased murderer.
He got away.
Suggest searching the perimeter of the forest.
SH

Lestrade was disappointed in the text he received while he sat in his office. The killer had gotten away. The DI decided not to complain about it too much. At least Sherlock had had tried to catch the killer, although it was still annoying that the consultant always went off to chase criminals without letting the police know. The DI ordered his men (and Sally) to search the perimeter of the forest for when the killer came out. Lestrade wouldn't risk getting his men lost in the forest so perimeter was best.

The consulting detective fell on to his sofa and slapped a few nicotine patches on to his arm to help him think. Sherlock missed smoking; cigarettes made the nicotine feel like it was getting in to his body quicker. None the less, it was Impossible to sustain a smoking habit in London these days so, he resorted to patches. The patches didn't get the nicotine in quick enough so the addict used a few patches, settling for quantity instead of quality.

Thoughts of that tower came back to him. The detective wanted so badly to go to the mansion and to see the insides of that tower. He wasn't sure why that mansion was so interesting. Maybe it was because it was so random, it was just out deep in a forest for no reason. No, there's always a reason and that's what made him so curious. And that man he saw, who was he? That man killed the murderer that Sherlock was trying to catch, which the detective could care less about at that point. As fun as it was to chase that killer, this new one was far more interesting. And those words the new killer spoke made that made the vine come down. Was there someone up there to throw the vine down? Who was it? What's the purpose of it all? Why would someone be up there? Why in the middle of the forest?

Questions rattled Sherlock's brain. He couldn't stand it any longer; he had to know what was up there and why. An hour had passed by without his notice and he ran out the door feeling as though he had wasted enough time.

It was a long walk, and Sherlock was impatient to get there, so he decided he needed transportation. Since no car could take him -being that there were no roads- he had to take something else.

:) :) :)

Sherlock mounted a white horse and took its reins.

"Have you ever done this before?" The old man that sold him the horse asked. Sherlock only smiled and took off at full speed. He thought about taking a motorcycle but he had no license, (not that that mattered to Sherlock with his law breaking ways and besides the detective never took the time to learn how to drive) and a regular bike would be of no use, the curly hair man never took the time to learn how to ride one. His parents did force him to learn how to ride a horse when he was younger, so taking a horse seemed like the best idea to shorten his journey to the mansion.

The sun was already coming up but the forest was still dim. The tall trees shaded the detective and his trusty white steed. Sherlock couldn't help but let his mind wonder, riding horses weren't much fun, besides the horse did most the work. The dark haired man's face scrunched up a litte at the feel of the wind and the trees' leaves hitting his face. He thought of the mansion, of the tower, and of all of the events that happened so many hours ago. The horse jumped over a log surprising Sherlock and bringing him out of his thoughts for a moment.

The consulting detective wondered if the man that had killed the murder he was chasing, was still there. If he was, what then? Sherlock figured he might be killed if the man was still there but this didn't stop him. He had to see, he had to know. The detective was determined and would let nothing stop him.

A branch hit the dark haired man in the face. He was snapped out of his thoughts once again. 'Okay, so the horse doesn't do all the work,' he thought.

:) :) :)

John woke to the sound of birds chirping. The sun's rays shined through the window, creeping steadily across John's bed and onto his face. Sitting up and yawning, the steady man looked out of the portal to another world, the window, and smiled at the sunny day that had risen with him.

The blond got out of bed and set off doing his normal routine. He made his bed, made some toast and tea, and then took a shower. John then cleaned a little and went off to read. He enjoyed reading, but mostly because it was one of the only things he could do, besides clean and walk around in circles. His dad had given him some puzzles and cards, but after a few years they got boring. However, his father brought a new book to him whenever he asked. The sheltered blonde's favorite books were lord of the rings and the hitchhikers guide to the galaxy, but ever since John was 18 years old he had dreamed to one day be able to help people, and he wanted to be a doctor; therefore, he started reading medical types of books.

Half the day had passed by and John had managed to read quite a few books however at the moment he was back to reading the hitchhikers guide to the galaxy while pacing the room.

"Child, oh child, with hair so fine, look out the window, throw me the vine!" A voice from the window said making John jump at the broken silence. The doctor wannabe was surprised his dad was back so soon. Maybe he had forgotten something. He threw out the vine for his dad to climb up and walked to the book shelf to put the book away.

:) :) :)

Sherlock jumped off his horse and tied the reins on to a tree. He walked around the old looking mansion. The mansion had a steeply pitched roof of irregular shape with dominant front-facing gable, the shingles were black and some were missing (probably from rough storms). The mansion had a full-width asymmetrical porch and a small half circled shaped balcony on the top floor. In all there were two floor, plus an attic (which the balcony was connected to), and the tower (which stood twice as high as the mansion itself).

The mansion was of Victorian style and the dark haired man found it to be quite interesting. It was in good shape and by the way it stood and how the grass stood around it, the curious man could tell this place was at the very least a hundred years old, most likely more. There was no way in the tower through the outside so he made his way in through the front door.

The mansion was large and there were quite a few rooms. There were many bedrooms upstairs; most of them had bathrooms connected to them. The larger of the rooms was decorated like most of the others. It had a queen sized bed, a wardrobe, bedside tables, and a vanity table. Some of the rooms were for children, being that there were smaller beds in those rooms along with old fashion toys, like dolls and little wooden trains.

Down stairs there was a kitchen, sitting room, dining room, and even a separate room with all sorts of instruments. Sherlock went to the main room where the front door stood. Across the room from the front door was an old looking door much like the others. The detective opened it only to find it blocked off by a brick wall. There was no way up into the tower outside or in any of the rooms inside. This door was blocked, which brought Sherlock to the conclusion that this was the way up, unless.

The curious consultant ran up two flights of stairs in order to get to the attic. Perhaps there was a way in to the tower through the attic. Sherlock open the door leading to the attic on to find another brick wall in his path. This wall was like the other one down stairs, and Sherlock couldn't help but wonder why the brick walls were much newer than the mansion itself. The brick walls probably had something to do with what or who was in that tower. He sighed in disappointment and went back down stairs. The dark haired man wondered if he could just break the brick wall down. He searched the house and to his surprise found nothing sturdy enough to do the job, not even a shovel.

He walked outside and looked up shading his eyes from the sun. The tower was tall and too dangerous to climb. There was only on option left and Sherlock wasn't sure if it would even work.

"Child, oh child, with hair so fine, look out the window, throw me the vine!" Sherlock called out and sure enough the vine was dropped. He smiled in success and climbed.

:) :) :)

John sat on his bed watching the window waiting for his dad, but it was taking him a little longer to climb than usual. Finally, his dad was half way through the window when John realized it wasn't his dad. Cursing under his breath, he quickly got up and ran to the kitchen to look for a weapon for this person could be dangerous.

Sherlock finally got inside and looked around. It was a large room. There was a bed to the right near the window and on the far side of the room was table with two chairs and a door way. There was also a book case sat beside a comfy looking chair to his left. There was another door to the far right.

"Hello?" Sherlock asked walking to the door to the far right. He opened it to find a medium sized bathroom with baby blue walls complete with a white porcelain bathtub, toilet and sink. Then, he felt something hit him in the head and he was out like a light.

John bounced a little in triumph. He twirled the pan in his hand and kissed it as if it were his new best friend. The blond looked down at the man he had just knocked out with his trusty pan. The man was tall, dark brown hair, and sort of pale. It was nothing like the blond had expected. The way his dad described people from the outside world was much different. The doctor wannabe expected sharp teeth, claws, and weren't outsiders supposed to be bigger? This one was taller but also skinny. He got on his knees and poked the unconscious body with the pan a little. Satisfied that the man wasn't getting up anytime soon, he pushed him on to his back.

John couldn't help notice the man's nice looking clothes, black pants, a white button up shirt, and nice black shoes. The unconscious man looked so well dress. The blond always imagined the outsiders to wear torn up ugly clothes. John checked the dark haired man's teeth, they weren't sharp. He smelled the pale man and found that the he didn't smell bad. The stranger actually smelled good, kind of like tobacco, roses, and some other things John couldn't identify.

The stranger looked so peaceful and almost beautiful. John ran a hand over the pale man's warm face and it caused the stranger to stir a little. John jumped up quickly feeling as though this had to be a trick. People from the outside world were dangerous and there was no way they could be so good looking and smell so good. John had to tie the stranger up before he woke.

"Hello?" John asked poking at the man he had just tied up to a chair. The man opened his eyes and looked up at the blond. "Oh, um, hi." John smiled but then remembered he wanted to act tough so he put on a serious face. "Why are you here?" He asked sternly. Sherlock looked around at his surroundings. He was tied up and a short blond man was standing in from of him clutching a pan for dear life.

"I came here to meet you," Sherlock said sincerely. The detective looked up and down at the blond, learning all he could. The dark haired man couldn't help but smile a little at the other man's appearance. The blond wore an oatmeal-colored jumper, jeans, and no shoes.

"Why?" John asked feeling a little self-conscious from the other man's staring.

"I was curious," Sherlock answered with a smirk making John feel uneasy.

"Curiosity killed the cat you know," The blond said in a voice that was meant to make Sherlock feel inferior, it didn't work.

"Well, I'm not a cat," Sherlock said sternly making John smile.

"Who are you?" The jumper wearing man said relaxing a little and lowering his pan a bit.

"Sherlock Holmes, um, would you mind untying me so we can have a proper greeting?" The dark haired man asked. He was loving every moment of this meeting but felt it would be even more fun if he wasn't tied down.

"How do I know you're not going try and kill me?" John said raising his pan defensively.

"Why would I do that?" Sherlock asked casually trying to let the other man know that that wasn't even on his mind.

"I don't know," John said thinking about all the times his dad told him about the dangerous people out there. "Alright, I'll untie you but if you try anything," John showed Sherlock the pan in his hand, "I'll hit you again."

"Okay," Sherlock said. The blond untied the other and stepped a few feet away with the pan raised a little. The man got up and stretched his limbs. "So, what's your name?"

"John," he answered. Sherlock didn't even bother to ask about the last name.

"And what, may I ask, are you doing hiding away in this tower?" Sherlock asked walking over to the bookshelf and scanning the books.

"None of your business," John said defensively. 'Why is this man asking so many questions?' John wondered. Sherlock noticed the large amount of medical books on the shelf. He picked one out, it was a medical dictionary, and turned to a random page.

"What is a narcotic?" Sherlock asked. John smiled; he had read and memorized all of those books, the doctor wannabe felt proud to be able to answer that question so easily.

"It is a drug that causes insensibility or stupor. A narcotic induces narcosis; it's from the Greek word 'narke' meaning 'numbness or torpor.'" John answered proudly. It was Sherlock turn to smile.

"You've been up here a long time. You've memorized these books. I could use someone like you as an assistant," Sherlock said putting the book away.

"Assistant for what?" John asked.

"I'm a consulting detective, the only one in the world. I been in need for an assistant and a flatmate and since you don't seem very busy I think you would be good for the job," Sherlock explained walking toward John.

"S-sorry, but," He said backing away. "Why are you doing this? This is so random and-" Sherlock took the pan out of John's hand and the blond backed in to the wall. "Why are you asking me to be your assistant and to come live with you? We've only just met and we nothing about each other." Sherlock's smile grew wider.

"I know you're 27 years old, you've spent your whole life in this tower, you have no other family besides a father whom visits you every now and again. He gives you what you need such as supplies but he's also abusive. You're a neat freak and have a passion for wanting to help people. You can play the clarinet but I highly doubt you're good at it. Oh, and you're also a virgin, that's enough to be going on now don't you think?" John was stunned.

"How do you know I'm a virgin?" John asked although the answer was obvious but his question was really more of a defense than an actual question but Sherlock still answered.

"You've lived in this tower your whole life; of course you're a virgin." John ignored that and went on to his next thought.

"That… was amazing," John said. Sherlock was frozen in place by that remark.

"Do you think so?" Sherlock asked curiously.

"Of course it was, it was extraordinary. It was quite extraordinary," John answered in amazement.

"That's not what people normally say."

"What do people normally say?"

"Piss off." John smiled. "So, how about it then?"

"What?"

"Will you be my assistant?" Sherlock asked impatiently.

"Well, I can't," John said walking over to his bed then sat down. "I'm not allowed to leave the tower." The blond sunk his face in his hands.

"Why not?"

"My dad won't let me leave." Sherlock sighed loudly. He was annoyed. 'This man is 27 years old for fuck's sake!'

"John," Sherlock said sitting beside the blond. "I think you're old enough to make your own decisions." John looked up at Sherlock and then after a moment he stood up.

"I know," John said raising his arms and then let them fall to his sides. He sighed. "Could you just give me a few days to think about it?" He asked hopefully.

"I suppose so," Sherlock said standing up knowing that this would be the best answer he would get for now. "I'll be back in three days' time and I want a straight answer by then."

"Oh, thank you!" John exclaimed and hugged the taller man. Sherlock stiffened; he hadn't been hugged since he was a child. John didn't seem to mind his stiffness he was just so happy that he might have a chance to get out of the tower. Sherlock was soon released but his cheeks were a bit red and John couldn't help but giggle a little and Sherlock refused to acknowledge that the shorter man giggled at all. Sherlock walked toward the window after the hug and was about to climb down. "Wait! Couldn't you stay for a while?"

"No," Sherlock said with a smile. "I want you to start thinking of your choice in going with me straight away." He knew John wanted to spend time with him being that the blond was actually really lonely and Sherlock had no objections to taking some time out of his day to examine an isolated man but if he left now it would make John want to leave the tower even more than before.

He climbed down the tower with the man above watching his every move. As Sherlock mounted his horse and galloped off he heard John yell out "See you soon!"

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