A/N: So I definitely intended the first chapter to be a one-shot, but then this chapter kind of just wrote itself, so here it is :) I might make this story into a collection of one-shots if you guys like it, we'll see where the muse takes me. Hope you like this small addition! Enjoy!

xxx

On a sunny Wednesday morning, breakfast in the brownstone was proceeding as normal. Sherlock was reading the paper and eating his food, Joan stood at the stove making pancakes for Alex, and Alex was waiting at the table, impatient for his food.

Sherlock's phone chimed and he set the paper aside to read the text he had received. "Watson," he said when he had skimmed the message, "it appears we have a case."

"Okay," Joan said without turning around. "If it's urgent you go ahead. I'll get Alex on the bus to school and meet you."

Sherlock looked at his watch and shook his head. "It doesn't appear to be urgent," he assured her. "I'll wait and we can share a cab over."

"Sounds good," Joan said.

Sherlock returned his attention to the phone, re-reading the details of the case outlined in the text and considering what their first move should be.

Alex, bored with this conversation that didn't involve him, tapped his foot anxiously. After a few seconds more of boredom, Alex asked, "Uncle Sherlock?" Sherlock put his phone down and nodded for the boy to continue. Satisfied that he had Sherlock's attention, Alex asked, "Why do you call my mom Watson?" His face was serious and inquisitive, as if he had suddenly realized how strange it was that Sherlock only used Joan's last name and now demanded an explanation.

Sherlock smiled indulgently and said, "Well, because that is her name."

Alex scrunched his nose, dissatisfied with that answer. "It's my name too," he protested, "but you still call me Alex."

With her back still facing the boys, Joan smiled.

Sherlock grinned as well, amused by the boy's insistence. "I imagine it would get rather confusing if I called you both Watson, wouldn't it?" he laughed.

Alex nodded with the seriousness only children can bring to matters adults find trivial. "Yeah I guess," Alex said. "But I mean, why don't you ever call her Joan?"

Sherlock glanced over at Joan, but she was still facing the stove with her back to them. He couldn't read her expression. He considered his answer. He didn't have a very good reason, other than just habit. He momentarily wondered if it were such a good idea for them to have raised the boy to be so had certainly started asking a lot of questions about them lately.

Unable to form a helpful answer, Sherlock opted for sarcasm. "Well, what do you say Watson?" He asked her with a grin. "Should I start calling you Joan?" His voice had a joking lightness to it that Joan picked up on.

Grinning herself, she turned around to face them and crossed her arms over her chest, faking contemplation. "Oh, I don't know…" she mused. Looking at him with a smirk, she added, "If you started using my first name now, after all these years, people at the precinct might start making assumptions." She wiggled her eyebrows at Sherlock suggestively, and he smirked in response.

Alex, of course, missed the joke shared by the adults. "What assumptions?" he asked innocently.

Sherlock snorted. "Yes, Joan," he said half-mockingly, "what assumptions?"

Joan shook her head, giving Alex an indulgent glance. "The wrong ones," she said with a laugh.

Sherlock leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head. "Oh, I don't know," he said with nonchalance. "Perhaps they wouldn't be so wrong." Joan gave him a sharp look that failed to completely hide her smirk before turning back to finish cooking.

Alex was now bored with this conversation, having no real idea what the adults were talking about or why they seemed to think it was funny. He was used to their banter though, so he dismissed it. After all, breakfast was ready, and his curiosity went out the window as soon as the plate of pancakes was set in front of him.

Sherlock returned to reading the paper as Alex ate his breakfast and Joan helped him get ready for school. As they headed toward the door, Sherlock hopped up from the table. "It's a lovely day," he said, glancing out the window. "I think I'll join you at the bus stop, if you don't mind."

This wasn't entirely unprecedented, so Joan simply nodded, busy making sure Alex didn't forget his lunchbox. Once she was satisfied that he had everything, the three of them headed outside and down the street to the corner where Alex's bus would pick him up.

They didn't have to wait long before the bus showed up. Alex gave Joan a hug, and Sherlock stuck out his fist for their customary fist bump, which Alex readily returned.

"Have a great day at school sweetie," Joan said.

"I will!" Alex said before running to the bus.

Joan and Sherlock waived to him as the bus pulled away. When it was out of sight, Sherlock turned to Joan, grinning. "Shall we catch a cab and head to the precinct, Joan?" he asked with feigned innocence.

Joan couldn't help but match his smirk. She gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. "You better stop calling me that before we get there, Holmes."

"Why?" Sherlock asked with a grin, rubbing his arm as if she'd hurt him. "Worried about assumptions, are we?"

Joan moved closer, not stopping until she was standing right in front of him. "No," she whispered before giving him a quick kiss, "I'm worried about them finding out the truth."