"Oh my God, what did you do to her?" Greg Lestrade bent, looking at Matilda, horrified. He knew that feeling of panic when someone brought a kid home and something was different about them. He'd gone through it with his two daughters before, only they were much older.

"It was very quick, she didn't even cry."

"Sherlock, you can't just bring someone's daughter to a store and get her ears pierced!"

"Why not? Matilda is hardly anyone's daughter."

"I bet you didn't tell them who's daughter she was."

"Honestly Grant,"

"Greg!"

"You're making more of this than you think; Molly said the other day she wants to have her daughter's ears pierced."

"Yeah, not at age six I'll bet!"

"Uncle Greg, don't you like my new earrings?" Matilda asked. Lestrade smiled at the little girl, the frustration at Sherlock melting from his eyes.

"Yes hon, they're lovely, but I don't think your daddy will be very happy with your Uncle Sherlock."

"Humph," Sherlock narrowed his gaze, taking Matilda's hand and leading her down to Molly's office.

"Hi mummy,"

"Hello sweetheart-" Molly turned, then stared. "Oh sweetie!" she gasped. Sherlock gave a knowing smirk to Lestrade.

"Uncle Sherlock took me, are you mad?"

"Well, I would have liked to go with you, were you scared?"

"No," Matilda said proudly. Molly looked up at Sherlock.

"I did not coerce her, if that's what you're thinking. She asked, and I acquiesced."

"We were going to wait a few years," Molly said after a moment.

"I wanted to, and he held my hand when they did it."

"Who pierced your ears?"

"A friend of mine," Sherlock replied. Molly looked up at him, horrified.

"Oh for pities sake, I took her to a department store, Anthea made the appointment!" Sherlock burst. "Honestly, Molly!" She rolled her eyes, sighing.

"Well what's done is done," she said with a shrug.

"Do you like them?" Matilda turned so her mother could see the tiny cat-face earrings sparkling on her ears.

"I love them," Molly kissed her cheek. "We'll pick up the swabs to clean your ears, so you don't get infections."

"Uncle Sherlock has the kit," Matilda said, pointing to the purple and pink plastic bag on the Consulting Detective's arm.

"They um…give you all the stuff there at the store…also several sets of earrings," he murmured, a little embarrassed. Greg was clearly grinning. He leaned against a table, and Sherlock shifted from foot to foot.

"Shut up Grant."

"Okay, well, first off, nobody say anything to John," Molly said. "Maybe he won't notice right off."

"Hey Molls, ready to go?" John entered the lab and Matilda hurried to him.

"Daddy, daddy!"

"Hey pumpkin how was your day?" he scooped her up, pressing her cheek.

"It went well," Sherlock replied.

"Um, John, are you hungry?" Molly asked, interrupting. "We should probably get going, I'm sure Sherlock and Matilda haven't stopped for lunch yet-" Molly began.

"Sherlock," John was looking at his daughter. "What are these on Matilda's ears?"

"I believe it's a nickel-free alloy, set with cubic-zirconia-"

"You pierced her ears?" John nearly bellowed, setting Matilda down.

"He didn't," Matilda insisted. "The lady at the shop did. Look how they sparkle, daddy!"

"Um, Tilly, let's go upstairs and see if we can find a vending machine," Greg said quickly, taking the little girl by the hand. "We'll see you all upstairs," he said to the others.

The door shut behind them, leaving John glaring daggers at Sherlock.

"Did you. Put holes. In my daughter's head."

"Don't be ridiculous," Sherlock snorted. "I'm not licensed to pierce her ears."

"John!" Molly leapt forward as he grabbed Sherlock by the lapels of his coat. "Don't, just, calm down," carefully she pried John's hands from Sherlock's coat. "I told you the other day, she's wanted to have her ears pierced since she found my earrings,"

"She's a baby!"

"She's still very young," Molly agreed. "But it certainly won't kill her, and she clearly isn't traumatized by it,"

"She's too young," he grumbled. Sherlock wisely remained silent.

"This isn't the worst thing he could've done," Molly said with a laugh, squeezing his arm.

"He put holes in our daughter's head, why aren't you upset?" John asked, almost incredulous.

"Because she looks cute with little cat earrings," Molly replied. She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Let it go, John. She'd get her ears pierced sooner or later, and Sherlock wouldn't just take her any place, you know that."

"Humph." Arms still folded, John leaned against the counter. "Did she cry?" he asked Sherlock.

"Not a bit," Sherlock replied, lifting his chin. "She seemed rather taken by one of the women in the shops though. I told her she couldn't have a belly ring until she was ten."

"You dare-" John began, before he realized Sherlock was clearly teasing. "You put any more holes in my kid, I'll put a hole in your head, right between the eyes," John threatened.

"Upon my honor," Sherlock swore.

"Could've picked better earrings than those cats," John said finally.

"She was adamant," Sherlock said, sighing.

"Her mum's the same way," John nodded.

"Excuse me," Molly said from the doorway, hands on her hips.

"Nothing-"

"John started it-"

"Let's go," Molly nodded to the exit. "Before our daughter convinces Greg she's old enough for a nose-ring."

"God forbid," both men uttered, following the pathologist out the door.