As the squirming pink bundle of towels was placed gently in her daddy's arms, Sherlock held his breath. With a steady hand, he teased damp, downy black curls from mossy clumps into strands and tucked the edges of the towel more firmly into the crevice of his arms, so that she was warm.
"My little girl," he breathed.
Jacky, her surrogate mother, white and sweaty and relieved all at once on the bed, gathered up enough strength to sit up and ask the question many people had been burning to ask over the last few days.
"So, what's her name, then, Daddy?"
The smile on his face was sweet and gentle: it was hardly even a Sherlock smile at all.
"It's a Holmes name," he whispered, loud enough so that she could hear. "My aunt and great aunt and great great aunt, all the way back to the first female Holmes, bore this name proudly for over ninety years each. There has never been a female Holmes brought into the world without it."
Jacky's grin grew rather taut.
"Yes?"
After all, it had been his brother who had contacted her in the first place.
"Dear, beautiful, wonderful baby girl Holmes."
"So... what is it?"
He turned, his eyes sparkling with joy.
"Mildred," he said. "Mildred Odelia Chastity Holmes. My daughter."