"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Sabrina asked.
"Rina, if we don't tell them now and we wait, it'll only get worse. Now I'm going to tell Dad and Papa shortly before dinner. Then you'll come over and they'll see what a lovely person you are."
"I hope this works."
"It will." He gave her a soft kiss. "Eight o'clock. Don't forget."
"How could I?" She giggled. "I've gotta go break the news to my dads as well. See you at eight, Hamish."
"Aunt Molly, I've got a favor to ask." Hamish said.
"Anything, dear."
"You see…"
"Mummy! Chester stole my doll!" Vivian shrieked, running into the room. Her elder brother was right behind her.
"Did not!"
"Did too!"
"Did not!"
"Did too!"
"Did-"
"Both of you enough!" Mycroft shouted upon entering the living room. Both children were immediately silent.
"Chester, give your sister her doll and then I want both of you to go to your rooms."
The pair did as instructed without another word.
"Sorry about that, Hamish." Molly said, after the children were gone. "What were you saying?"
Hamish glanced warily towards his uncle. Mycroft had taken a seat in the chair by the window and was reading the paper.
"Whatever you can say to me, you can say to Mycroft." Molly assured him. Hamish had always felt more comfortable around his aunt than his uncle. They were certainly an odd pair. Hamish had been nine when impassive Uncle Mycroft had announced his engagement to gawky Molly Hooper. John and Sherlock didn't think it would last, but here they were, eight years and three kids later.
"Very well." Hamish sighed. "I would like you to join me, Dad and Papa for dinner tonight."
"Alright any particular reason?" Molly asked.
"Er, my girlfriend's coming over and I'd like to have another female besides Sybil there." Sybil Holmes-Watson was Hamish's ten-year-old little sister.
"That's not all is it?" Mycroft said, setting the paper in his lap.
"I don't know what you mean." Hamish tried, even though he knew trying to fool his uncle was just like trying to throw his father a surprise birthday party: it just didn't work.
"There's something more to this girl that you're not telling your parents. And you want your aunt there to help calm them down. What is this dark secret, dear nephew?"
Hamish gulped. "She's Sabrina Moriarty," he stated quickly.
There was dead silence for what seemed like hours.
"Very well," Molly spoke up. "I will come, but only to keep your fathers from exploding."
"Thank you, Aunt Molly. I am truly grateful." Hamish hugged her. "But you won't be alone. I've invited Aunt Mary, as well."
"This will certainly be an interesting evening." Mycroft remarked.
Molly ignored him: "What time should I be there?"
"Seven. I want to tell them before Sabrina gets there."
"What time is your girlfriend coming over?" John asked his son.
"Eight, but Aunt Mary and Aunt Molly are coming at seven."
"Why did you invite Mary?" Sherlock asked, clearly annoyed at the idea. Mary Morstan had been engaged to John during the three years of Sherlock's "death." Even though after Sherlock returned it had been Mary who had broken off the engagement, knowing Sherlock needed John. And on top of that she had married Greg Lestrade three months before John and Sherlock were married. Sherlock still didn't like her. Before Hamish could reply, there was a knock on the door
"I'll get it!" Sybil yelled, running towards the front door- John at her heels. "It's Aunt Molly!" Sybil announced upon entering the sitting room with John and Molly behind her.
"Hello Sherlock," Molly smiled.
"Molly," Sherlock nodded at this sister-in-law.
"How are the kids?" John asked
"They're good. Chester and Vivian are fighting quite a bit and Cassandra just likes following Mycroft around. It's very funny."
Sherlock smirked at the thought of his older brother being followed around by a four-year-old.
There was another knock on the door and John went back downstairs to answer it.
"Aunt Mary! Aunt Mary!" Sybil cried, hugging her Godmother when she entered the room.
"Hello darling," Mary smiled and picked Sybil up. "How are you?"
"I'm good. Oh! I want to show you my new dolls!" Sybil squirmed and Mary set her down.
"Maybe in a few minutes, dear. I want to your parents."
"Okay." The little girl shrugged and disappeared up the stairs.
"So Hamish," Mary turned to the 17-year-old, "why don't you tell your parents what they need to know?"
"What do you mean?" John turned towards his son.
"It's about Sabrina." Hamish said. "As you know we've dating for over a year now and well I've told you a lot about her there is one thing you should know before she gets here."
"Oh God." Sherlock exclaimed. Hamish's heartbeat quickened.
"What?"
"She's pregnant isn't she?!"
Hamish almost burst out laughing, but he restrained himself. "No! Of course-"
"Hold on, why do you think the girl is pregnant?" Mary asked turning to Sherlock.
The consulting detective rolled his eyes, but answered. "Hamish is obviously nervous about the news he's about to tell us. He even mentions he and Sabrina have been dating over a year and out of blue he invites her over for dinner. The only other explanation is that he is dating the child of Moriarty."
"Hamish I thought we taught you better than that." John said to his son.
"She's not pregnant for Christ's sake!" Hamish exploded. "… but she is Moriarty's daughter."
"No." Sherlock said after a long silence.
"No?"
"No she is not setting foot in this house. No you are not going to see her again. Need I go on?"
"You can't do that!" Hamish cried.
"Sherlock, this is unreasonable." Mary added.
"Why does he have to be reasonable?!" John shouted. "Her father tried to kill both of us!"
"Yes, but he's not dating the father!" Molly threw in.
"Doesn't matter! They've probably brought her up to be a serial killer!" John continued.
"You've never met her!" Hamish screamed.
"Yes, and until you do, you have no right to judge her." Mary said forcefully.
"Stay out of this!" Sherlock snapped. "It's none of your business!"
"He's my nephew and Mary's godson. It most certainly is our business." Molly shot back.
Before Sherlock could reply once more, the doorbell rang.
"That's her." Hamish said heading for the door. "Now I'm going to answer the door and you're both going to be nice or I will move out of here."