Two years earlier

It had been a very strange conversation with Mycroft that led to the actual naming of Hamish.

Mycroft had called late one evening. This action alone caused John some alarm. Mycroft never called just to chat away a few minutes. If he called, something of importance was going on.
"Ah! Dr Watson!" Mycroft said and John could practically hear him put on a strained smile.
"Yes... Evening, Mycroft", he answered in trepidation.
"I'm afraid that I have a rather awkward errand tonight", Mycroft said with a tone dripping with excuses, "It might be unforgivably presumptuous of me to even consider such a subject but as the situation is, I feel obliged to discuss the matter with you."
"Okay! Now I'm really worried. What is this about Mycroft? Will I need my gun?"
"Ha! Very droll, indeed", came the dry answer, "No, I don't think that any firearms should be required."
"Please just spit it out, alright?"
"The thing is...I've just had a heart-to-heart with my little brother."

John felt his heart sink several stories by then. He nervously switched the phone to his other ear.
"What is going on here Mycroft?" he demanded in steely tones.
"Yes, I was as baffled as you. It seems that my little brother has something troubling pressing on his mind, and in an uncharacteristic bout of fright he does not dare to tell you this himself. Perhaps because the subject matter can be taken as inexcusably pretentious. "
"If you don't tell me right now what this is about, I will get my gun."
It could be interpreted as a joke. It wasn't meant as one. Mycroft sighed on the other end of the line. John could practically see him swirling his umbrella to ease his discomfort.
"Have you considered naming the child Sherlock?" he said at last, voice a bit strained.
John pursed his lips and looked over at Mary in the other room.
"The name has been discussed. Yes", he said slowly and deliberately.

In truth it had never been much of a discussion. They had settled for the name Hamish for a boy even before the baby was born. In addition to that Mary had wanted him to be named after her father. John had no problems with that and it was settled at once.
"And I suppose that you want to call him Sherlock as well", she had said while cuddling the baby.
"Ha! No no no!" John had said at once, stroking Hamish's head.
Mary had given him a truly surprised look and John realised that she wasn't joking.
"Really? Why not? I thought that was kind of a given."
John had licked his lips in confusion. His reasons escaped him.
"Well... it's a bit too unusual. And kind of strange. Wouldn't it be awkward as well?"
"I think it would be cute", Mary had said looking very determined, "Besides: it's only a middle name. We wouldn't be yelling "Sherlock!" across the school yard."
John had given her a crooked smile. God! He loved this woman.
"Okay then", he had said, "Frederick Hamish Sherlock Watson it is."
And then they had played with the so named baby boy and kissed his toes and tickled his tummy until he fell asleep. However, none if this was included in the conversation with Mycroft.

"Does this mean that you intend to call him Sherlock?" the British Government asked.
"As a middle name, yes."
Another sigh was heard down the line.
"Can I ask you not to?" Mycroft said in pleading tones.
"Why?" John had sounded much steelier that he had thought himself capable of.
A third sigh.
"It seems that my brother does not want the child to be named after him. In fact, he seems positively afraid that this might be the case."
"What..? Why? "
"That he didn't feel fit to tell me. All I can say is that he is very bothered by the possibility that this bundle of joy could be christened Sherlock. It worries him."
John swallowed hard and looked over at Mary again. She was reading a book and looked as calm as ever. He, himself, didn't feel calm at all. He was disappointed, and sad and confused.
"Well, that's..." he begun but faltered.
"Dr Watson," Mycroft begun and his confidence seemed to have returned, "It is of course entirely up to you and dear Mary but I think I've got a alternative solution to the question at hand..."

As it turned out, Sherlock had a very distinct and usable middle name. John had referred it to Mary, and within five minutes they sent a confirmatory text to Mycroft.
"The name is go. JW"
"I am pleased to have been of service /MH"

No one told the detective of the plans. He had found out at the christening. For five seconds he had glared daggers at a very content-looking Mycroft before Mummy had caught his arm and beamed at him. The rage had to be swallowed. Mummy was obviously very proud of the choice of name and he rarely made her proud. He should probably let her have her moment. As for John and Mary he couldn't with good conscience be angry with them. In the end Sherlock restrained himself to just kicking Mycroft under the table during the afternoon tea. If possible, this only made Mycroft smile wider.