Johanna had been insistent upon not getting married in a church and, since the wedding was small and she was following in her fathers footsteps as a consultant detective, Greg had helped make sure she could have her ceremony in a secluded part of the NYSE building. After all, he'd known her since she was a baby and he considered her family.

A bit of an odd motiff for a wedding, but the yellow dress she insisted on wearing lit up the room so much that no one really paid any mind to the lack of lack of natural light.

Sherlock watched his daughter stare at the door they would though in a moment.

"Nervous?" He asked, taking her pulse and knowing very well the answer.

"Of course not." She lied.

—

The day Sherlock helped Jo moved into her new flat, John was there. For a moment, he could tell his friend was a bit surprised…. Sheryl hadn't told him who her flatmate would be, obviously.

"They made up then?" He whispered to Sherlock as they carried boxes up the stairs.

"It would appear so." Sherlock whispered as they walked into the flat and immediately discovered it had only one room.

"Well, more than made up, it would appear." John cleared his throat and placed his box on the solitary double bed.

"Yes."

As Sheryl rounded the corner and her met her fathers eyes, she curled her shoulders up a bit and placed the box she was carrying next to the ones the men had just brought up.

"We —uh— like were its located." She smiled at her father and 'uncle'. "Very central."

"Sheryl, do you want these in here or the sitting room?" Johanna asked from the doorway, trying to balance an electronic Sherlock couldn't get a good look at on her knee.

"Just the—umm— put it on the kitchen table." When she disappeared, Sheryl turned back around.

"Are—uh— are you happy?" John asked, slowly and his daughter smiled at both of them.

"Yeah, yeah, I really am." She nodded, with that, Sherlock guided John out of the room to fetch the rest of the girls belongings.

In the stairwell, he began chuckling.

"Whats funny?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, its just… for the longest time… people thought.. you and I… turns out… its our daughters are the gay crime solving team." Sherlock shared in his friend laugh. "Is a bit awkward, though… are daughters are ah—"

"We really don't need to discuss that, John."

"I know, I know… its just…Wow. The stories people will write about them will be far more popular."

"Ugh, stop it, John."

"Well, people will talk."

"People do little else."

—

When the door opened, her breath hitched and she stared down the aisle.

It had been set up so the couple would enter through doors opposite of each other and meet in the middle before their friends in family.

"I can't do this." She began hyperventilating.

"Jo, Jo." Sherlock attempt to soothe her.

"I can't, daddy, I just—" She gasped for air.

"Look at me, look at me." Controlling her breathing, she met his met his eyes. "Sheryl loves you and you love her." Jo nodded. "What's there to be afraid of… he gestured to his friend, standing with his daughter in the other door way. "Look at her. What do you see when you look at her?" Instinctively, Jo turned into her fathers forearm and he could feel them dampen with her tears. "You don't have to tell me. You need to go out there and tell her. You wanted this." He reminded her as she pulled away.

While he pulled a hanky out of his pocket, she dabbed at her eyes and adjusted her stance.

"You're right, dad." She smiled up at him. "I wanted this… but, for the record, and I was waiting to tell you this, she asked me if she could be a Holmes." He returned her smile and they began their journey down the aisle.

"Do you need a new one?" Molly asked him as he took her seat beside her.

"Of course not." His voice cracked a bit and he knew she could see the red developing around his eyes.