A huge thank you goes out to my dear friend lilsherlockian1975, lil, you are the best. Thank you for looking this story over and catching any silly mistakes.

However, dear reader, if you find mistakes those are mine. Trust me I'm not perfect...If I was well...

Dear guest, thank you for the review.

A Note: Percy 'Tadpole' Phelps is a character that comes from the Sherlock Holmes original story, 'The Naval Treaty'. In the story 'Tadpole' sends a note to old school chum Dr. John Watson. Tadpole is ill and needs help finding a treaty or there could be a war. In this story one of my favorite lines has Watson remembering how he use to 'chivy him about the playground and hit him over the shins with a wicket.' Aw, good old Watson! In my story I thought it would be fun if Sherlock knew Tadpole instead. Hey, if I can have Molly kill Victor…then…

~*~And So Beats A Gentle Heart~*~

~*~PART 10~*~

'…I loved with such a love as comes only once in a lifetime.'

-The Priory School Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

'My dear Holmes, you are joking.'

'No, Watson, I am very serious.'

-Thor Bridge by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

'But what do you intend to do?'

-The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

~*~SHERLOCK~*~

Sherlock stared at John. While John stared right back. Never once looking away.

Damn it all, he had tried to close himself off from emotions so long ago…yet, emotions still found cracks to flood and overwhelm him. Emotions made him helpless, and Sherlock never liked being helpless.

Never.

Finally, Sherlock spoke, low and soft… "Seeing how I'm known to lie and deceive and manipulate…and if I tell you…how would you know it to be truth or not?"

John tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at him. "You are not denying this…"

"That I can lie, deceive and manipulate, no I'm not."

"No, I mean…That you love Molly Hooper."

Sherlock was silent. Too silent. His sharp eyes never blinking at his friend. His friend however did blink and sigh. Deeply and loudly.

"Would it really be such a colossal error to admit that you love her?" John asked, with a slight edge to his voice. As if there was something wrong with his friend.

Sherlock looked away, as his fingers ruthlessly dig in and out of the blankets his hands held.

"I don't know, John…I never thought I'd ever tell someone…such…such an intimate thing…and…and mean it! I don't do vulnerable unless I need to fake it…and…perhaps it would be a colossal error to admit such a thing. Hard enough to have to admit such silliness to oneself but to admit such a thing to the other person…I-I don't know what to do! I use to ignore it quite well but lately…ignoring it feels wrong! And I don't like being wrong John! You are right, Molly deserves better. I am who I am. I can be cruel. I can easily lie and deceive and manipulate…they are weapons that help me be such a brilliant detective. Somewhere along the line of knowing Molly I found, to my dismay, that I no longer want to lie, or manipulate or even deceive her anymore…I don't understand how or even why that happened or even how it came about…I just know I…I care…deeply…more than that even…"

"Say the words, Sherlock," John demanded quietly. "Just say the words."

Sherlock looked back at him not knowing that confusion was there in his eyes as well as something else…Something raw and rarely seen from the legendary consulting detective. He swallowed a sudden lump before asking, "Shouldn't Molly hear them first?"

"Will she ever hear them?" John asked right back before giving his friend an uncertain smile. "It would make it all more real to speak those words out loud, wouldn't it?"

Sherlock couldn't find the words to say but his gaze remained firmly fixed on John's. It was a long moment but John finally nodded slowly…as if he understood.

"Oh, Sherlock for a brilliant man…" John seemed to sigh these words before he spoke in a normal tone, "You are who and what you are. You are different and unique but you are still a man. A bastard at times, yes, but then again who isn't? Heh, I know you, know all your bad points and I still care deeply about you. Molly does too. We both love you…in different ways, of course. We love your good points and accept your bad points. You have a small group of people that accept this about you. You are the bravest and the wisest man I've ever known…Okay, the whole 'wisest' comment might be pushing it a bit…but…if anyone can have an honest, goodness relationship with Molly and make it work…you can. I know you can, even if for once you found an area that you are unfamiliar with."

Sherlock blinked before asking hopefully, "Really? Do you really think so?"

John shrugged. "Sure, why not? As long as you aren't using Molly to make sure dust doesn't gather on your dick…I don't see why not."

"John—"

"And whatever you do, don't test poisons on her…that's never good to any relationship! Don't think I don't know about that time you gave me snake venom and waited until my arm was purple and black and I was sweating on the sofa dying before you gave me the cure!"

"I wasn't going to let you die!"

"Not my point, you bloody git!" John growled darkly at him…yes, he actually growled! He then took a deep breath before saying in a calm yet exhausted tone, "I'm thrilled that for once you are actually acting like a human being instead of some rod up the arse machine! Great! I'm happy for you. Hell, I want you to be happy. I believe you could indeed make things work with Molly. You two could make a fine lovely couple…You'd just have to want too…Like the time you decided to get a roommate. I know the truth about that…I deduced it years ago. I was surprised but…the facts were all there and they were this…You never once actually needed a roommate."

"Well…I wouldn't say that—"

"I am saying it, Sherlock, because it's the honest to God's truth. You never once needed someone to help you pay the rent…and at first I was barely able to do that. You had wealth, that coat and those clothes you wear tells me that…As well as when you open that wallet of yours to pay for information there are quite a lot of notes inside of it. I know you were already planning to move into 221 B Baker Street long before you told Mike that you were thinking of sharing a flat. You told me that Mrs. Hudson's rent was low because she owed you for the help you gave her years ago…But you could afford whatever price she had given. I also know that when there is something wrong with or in that building you have been known to give her the money to fix it. You were already moved in and unpacking your stuff when I came to look at the flat! To this day I've never figured out what made you decide to have someone live with you. What made you decide to give it a try? Hmm? Maybe you were curious and a bit bored when you came up with that idea. Maybe you were doing an experiment to see how soon you could push a stranger into committing a homicide. I honestly don't know, but I do know that at the end of the day you choose me…You choose to let me into your life and share your adventures. I don't regret it, none of it, Sherlock…no matter how many times you have hurt me, horrified me or just been a general major pain in the arse…And now…you can choose Molly…Just as I don't regret it…I doubt you or her will either."

Sherlock was quiet for a moment as if thoughtful before he inhaled deeply…then, and only then did he admit, "No, I didn't need a roommate…but…I was curious…and…well, a couple of months before we met there was an incident. I-It may have involved drugs and a small stay in a hospital…My brother said that he was tempted to find me a keeper…or a help mate…that if push came to shove I was going to be forced into becoming his roommate. That…thought wasn't pleasant at all…but I started to wonder. What would that be like if I had someone live with me…Would that even be possible? I found myself telling a few people that I was looking. Most said it was impossible….and one muttered something about me being too much of a freak for that to ever work out well. I'm not sure what made me decide to tell Mike that I was looking for someone to share my lodgings…but I did…even though there was a second there that I almost didn't…"

Sherlock bit his lower lip before continuing carefully, "I'm glad I did."

"Me too."

He gifted John a small genuine smile.

John grinned as well before stating in an arrogant manner. "I'm what you like."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and attempted to frown at him.

John's smile became cocky…the bastard.

"Oh…Shut up!" Sherlock finally growled.

"Go, on…say it…" John seemed to be taking great delight in this.

"Why should I say it when you know it's true?" The great detective questioned.

"Aww, I can almost forgive you for waking me up so bloody early…"

"I don't always wake you up…when you lived with me, and I couldn't sleep…nor would you allow me to play my violin…I use to stand beside your bed while in your bedroom and watch you sleep."

John's smile faded quickly. "Okay, that's creepy."

"Really? So if I told you that I still sometimes break in just to stand in your room and watch you sleep?" Sherlock decided to ask curiously.

"That's…that's got to stop, Sherlock for…for…if Mary ever catches you…"

"Oh, please…she caught me the first time I did it. Why do you think she leaves a beverage and a bag of crisps on her nightstand…it's for when I stop by…and then in the darkness we whisper a few words and stare at you while eating crisps…She has even helped me come up with creative and cringe worthy ways to kill my brother…and your sister…as well as that arse of a neighbor across the way. I really enjoy those nights. At times it's the highlight of my evening. It's nice that Mary understands that this is how you and I can spend time 'bonding' with each other and keep our relationship 'fresh and interesting'."

John was silent for a long moment before asking, "Did you get some of that from a book?"

"Of course, I took the book in question from Molly while she was attempting to read it. It was interesting. Mostly about a crazy fictional serial killer wanting to 'bond' with his victims…but I'm certain I…who is very real and not at all fictional nor a serial killer…though really if I was I'd do a far better job than that idiot…can stand in the dark staring at my 'real' best friend and not come off as 'creepy'. Plus, after a long stressful day it's nice to show up and watch you breathe. There are so many others out there that I would be quite joyous if they weren't breathing…or come up with creative ways to stop their breathing."

"Jesus…" John breathed when Sherlock finished explaining himself.

Sherlock couldn't help but feel confused by why they were bringing him into their conversation. Sometimes his best friend made no sense…perhaps John had been dropped on his head a few times too many as a young toddler.

Not that he was judging, of course.

Well, it was time to get this conversation back on his own problems and needs…right? How else could John be useful to him?

"Let's come back to why I woke you, John. I don't like sentiment…nor do I do it well, to be perfectly honest," Sherlock admitted to him, his voice low and soft.

John sighed before looking him straight in the eyes. "It is what it is, Sherlock. Just be brave enough to accept it. Stop fighting it or ignoring it. Obviously that won't work…I honestly don't think you will ever regret having a serious relationship with Molly…but even if one day you do—"

"It is what it is," Sherlock finished for him.

"Yeah…I know you, Sherlock. I know there was a time you kept everyone from ever becoming too close to you. You were probably even happy and even accepted that you were alone. Always alone…but one day you decided to change that. You told Mike, in that careless way that you have, that you were ready for a change and he happened to be listening. And now you have a best friend that enjoys watching you be brilliant and feels perfectly alive when going on adventures with you…And once you were perfectly happy being married to your work…and to never know love or have a woman actually touch your cock…Now, that's also changed. You are ready…So…Crack on with it and let a new father get some precious sleep!"

There was times Sherlock wished John would stop making things about him…but he did understand what he was saying.

"And if things go well," John continued almost cheerfully. "I will be happy and honored to be your best man."

Sherlock snorted. "Oh, please! If that ever happens I'm going to have Tadpole do it."

John was now giving him a cold glare. "Tadpole?…Who the hell is Tadpole…if you say it's your favorite dealer I'm punching you hard in the face."

Sherlock almost laughed out loud before he said seriously, "No, he's not my dealer…has nothing to do with drugs…well, that's a lie he did get mixed up with some prescription pills and went to rehab a couple of times. He hasn't taken it in years. Almost six years in fact. He was a boy I went to school with…while everyone called me 'freak' and seemed to have a strong dislike about me…He never did. He was a sickly and weak boy…almost fragile and was an easy target for bullies…it didn't help that he'd shout… 'Do you know who my father is? My family?' Personally I didn't care much about him because he was a bit of a snob…However one day I told a group of his bullies to go away and stop it…They were holding down his head in the fountain and I had been sitting there….attempting to read an ancient book that I had 'borrowed' from the library and didn't want it wet. From that day forward Tadpole thought we were best mates…he'd follow me around and later I realized that his family had a lot of connections…serious connections…he had bastard blood of several European royal lines upon his family tree…One day I can use him and his family for a case. I just know it! Once or twice a year we still talk by email…he's a complete bore and an annoying twat, but he thinks I'm a dear childhood friend. Shows how idiotic he is…now you on the other hand are indeed my best friend and I can always use you to help solve a case…Plus, maybe he'll say no, doubtful but I'm still keeping my fingers crossed that the right case will come along so he'll be useful for once."

Sherlock quickly held up his crossed fingers and whispered with his eyes lit up. "Triple homicide…"

"Sherlock…" John growled.

Sherlock cut him off, "I can't use your familyfor a case, now can I? And I don't mean Mary and your daughter…No, your family tree has nothing but doctors and those that enjoyed serving in the military. They are a bit boring. Sure, your great Aunt killed your Uncle and his mistress—"

"Wait, what?!"

"Yep, trust me, she murdered them and did you know that a hundred years ago your great, great, great, great grandmother spent years pretending to be a man so she could be a doctor? At first your great, great, great, great grandfather wasveryconfused. Otherwise, your family tree is not very useful to me and quite boring…Though you did have one relative rumored to have relations with a neighbor's goat in the 1700's."

John was silent but Sherlock could hear his teeth grinding. So he continued, thinking he understood what bothered his dear friend. "It was just a rumor of course. Though he was run out of the village…The day he ran…he stole the neighbor's goat. Showing that no matter what a Watson is always loyal."

"Shut up, just shut up," John finally snapped.

"But you are supposed to help me!" Sherlock snapped right back.

"I already gave you advice you bloody fool!" John told him in a harsh tone. "You love Molly…tell her and show her…be in a commented relationship with her. You are no longer married to your work. Accept the fact that plans don't always work out like you would like or even plan…Kind of like that James Hadfield in that documentary I watched the other day. Things didn't go as planned for him…in fact things went to pot."

Sherlock gave him a long look. "I've never heard of him."

"Well, in the early 1800's he was a very depressed man and he thought day and night about how to off himself…however, he didn't want his family to deal with that shame or such a scandal. So he came up with a crazy sodding plan. He decided to have England kill him and buy the rope to do him in. Hadfield took a loaded pistol to the theater where the king was expected to be. He fired at the King…Some to this day are uncertain if he was actually aiming at him or even was trying to kill him…Still…" John trailed off with a shrug.

"And the government hanged him. Boring, John."

"Actually, no…The judge of the case declared the man clearly insane and sent Hadfield to spend the rest of his life in an insane asylum…" John informed him calmly as if telling a bedtime story.

Sherlock blinked. "Ouch, if he wasn't insane before…"

"Yeah, it's all completely mental." John said quite dryly before they shared a look…before they both chuckled like mischievous schoolboys.

"So, I know I'm not mental…" Sherlock responded after a moment of silence. "I…I think I'll be brave where it comes to Molly. Let her know…"

John nodded. "Good. Proud of you."

"Well, you know what this means right?" You are going to have to make me a list on how to court and keep my Molly. Don't leave anything out. Make it good and not as boring as your blog. Perhaps you should color code the things to do and not to do…Oh! Maybe even little stars? Five being the highest..." Sherlock sounded a bit too excited over this idea.

"Sherlock—"

"I tried to google how to court Molly and found nothing but porn sites and something called fanfiction. There was even some video of a cat named Molly who was clearly on catnip trying to do something odd with a tiny dog…"

"Seriously?"

"I wish I was lying but I'm not. It creeped me out, however I found I couldn't look away…Kind of like that time we both watched that YouTube video…the one where someone made that beach bag with nothing but duct tape…The person made it interesting by speeding up the tape."

John sighed. "No, I mean do you really want me to make a list?"

"Damn it all, John, I need help! Why the bloody hell do you think I woke you up! Shit and giggles? Now, help me!" Sherlock demanded.

John muttered something dark and ugly…After that Sherlock suspected he was slowly counting to ten. He quietly counted with him because really if anyone was in need of counting to keep from strangling someone it was him! Sometimes John could be so damn annoying.

When he reached ten, John breathed in deep before locking his wisdom-filled eyes upon Sherlock.

"Be honest with her, mate, completely…Like you are right now. There is a chance she'll get angry thinking you are being cruel dickhead…But just keep speaking from your heart and then you should kiss her."

"That's it? Are you sure, John?" Sherlock asked worriedly. That sounded far too simple.

"Yep, just remember—"

"Be myself." Sherlock quickly guessed cutting John off.

"Oh, God, no…Um, I was going to say 'no means no' it's best to remember that," John replied seriously.

"I would never push her if she said no!" Sherlock couldn't help but tell his friend, feeling deeply offended.

"Good. Also, if she tells you that she needs some time…do that, let her feel as if she has room to think. Tell her you will respect that…but ask permission to send her flowers…or emailing her…reminding her that she's your world…that you find her beautiful…After a while perhaps you two might try some sex texting. Though don't send her pictures of junk…keep that a mystery until the time comes in private…Though you could send her a selfie wearing a dress shirt you know she likes…Or wearing something she's not expecting…like wearing tight blue jeans with a button undone…"

Sherlock gave John slightly horrified look.

John shrugged. "Next time you are at the morgue, go to Molly's office…there is a calendar that she bought at a charity thing…She refuses to flip it to the correct month for there is a guy that…sure, looks good I guess and looks a bit like you…He's holding a kitten while wearing tight jeans and button undone…Mary informed me it's not the kitten holding that girl's attention."

Oh-kay.

Well, maybe he could do that…Without the kitten, of course.

Instead of telling John this he decided to glare and point at him. "I told you to write this stuff down!"

John looked as if he wanted to hit him before he shook his head before continuing, "Okay, let's say you do kiss her, hmm, slowly reach down and caress her buttocks…if she doesn't slap you or pull away then you should just go with it…wherever it should lead you. I wish you the best of luck. Please don't screw things up for Molly is a dear friend and to be perfectly honest she's the only reliable babysitter Mary and I have."

Okay, John clearly has been spending too much time with him. Sherlock looked at him a bit surprised at that thought as well as his friend's honesty and frankness…Also, tiredness made John a bit snippy and cheeky. That was something to take note of.

Sherlock made a face. "Right, I will just 'go with it'." He suddenly yawned before saying in a low pitched tone, "But first I think a nap is in order."

"What?!" John asked clearly shocked. Though why Sherlock could still shock him after all these years was a mystery.

Sherlock slowly shook his head. "Seriously, John, do you have any idea what time it is?"

"You complete and total wanker." John spoke this as if the world's greatest detective didn't know this fact. So Sherlock simply yawned once more…right in John's face.

John tried to glare, really he did but to Sherlock's delight he yawned in return. Completely ruining the glare.

With a small smile, Sherlock closed his eyes. It was only as he listened to his best friend's breathing change did he allow himself to slumber.

Sherlock was awaken by his phone ringing from his pocket…and his best friend's head on his shoulder and an arm around him as he snuggled close. If he was a blackmailer he'd take a picture…though he could just take it to torment the hell out of John.

Still a bit dull from a damn fine sleep he instantly noticed Mary resting in a chair holding their little angel…though already he could clearly see the words and an arrow declaring it a demon. From the peaceful smile on Mary's face, he was quite certain she had already taken a picture of her 'boys' and would be blackmailing John with an eternity of doing the dishes.

That a girl, his Mary.

Maybe he'd ask for a copy…

However, any amusement he had abruptly died when he answered his phone to hear that something bad had happened over at Molly's…

Of course, he hastened out of the flat…perhaps faster than he had ever moved before.

~*~End of part 10~*~

Well, hopefully that's an interesting cliffhanger!

Let me know if you are still reading and enjoying this story...

Note: Okay, a long ass note for those interested in history…

James Hadfield was a real person in the 1800's and as far as I know there is no documentary on him though if there was I'd watch it. A few books on true crime that I've read lately have mentioned him in certain paragraphs to make a point or explain certain things. One author was certain that the man was clinically depressed and had no intention to 'assassinate' the king of England but knew the attempt would deliver death to him which all authors in the different books all agreed that he longed for. Back then suicide was shameful…it was thought that the family and person clearly had something wrong with them. The person was declared unfit to even be buried in a cemetery and countless times they would be buried at a 'crossroads'…outside the cemetery…with a stake driven though the heart. There were many cases of families that when found relatives clearly killed by their own hand they would attempt to make it look like murder. Which is why some investigators in the 1700 and 1800's saw say a sixteen year old girl stabbed twenty times (which was a real case in 1786) the investigators would first declare it to be suicide until the 'crowner' the word later become the familiar word 'coroner' we use today, would declare it a possible homicide . Today we would look at this and say they were clearly dumbasses but when understanding the times we can see that certain things aren't always so certain…anyway…James Hadfield was what many declare as one of the first known 'suicide by cop'…the British government being the cop in question. He honestly believed attempting to kill the king…some writers wonder if he purposely missed, for the king had not been shot, knowing the end result would remain the same…his death and the government would be forced to buy the rope. However the judge looking the case denied Hadfield the death he longed for…the judge stating he was 'clearly insane' and did indeed send him off to an insane asylum. Which if one thinks about the asylums of the 1800's is quite horrifying.