Mary and John successfully worked it all out without speaking to Sherlock about the whole thing at all. They were sitting in his flat, about two weeks before Mary's due date. John held Brooklyn in his lap, Mrs. Hudson talked to Mary, and Sherlock sat idly in his chair.

A firm knock sounded at the door. John and Mary swapped sly grins as Mrs. Hudson rose to open it. "Hello!" came the enthusiastic voices of Sherlock's parents. Immediately Sherlock jumped up, looking chagrined. "Sherlock!" his mother exclaimed as she entered the room. Sherlock fell back against the wall, only to be cornered by his mum and hugged.

"You naughty boy," she scolded. "Why didn't you tell us we were grandparents?" Mr. Holmes laughed. "He wanted to surprise us!" he told his wife. "Or he just didn't want us to know that he was contradicting himself," speculated Mrs. Holmes. Laughing, she turned back to Sherlock. "Remember when you told us that we would never be grandparents? Oh, how wrong you were!"

John approached the family gathering from behind. Tapping on Mrs. Holmes on the shoulder, he held up Brooklyn for inspection. "OHHHH!" squealed Sherlock's mother, taking Brooklyn. "How sweet!" John noticed that Sherlock had considerably paled. Nudging Mary, he pointed this out. They both laughed. "Well, we have to go now, bye, Sherlock!" said John. "Nice meeting you, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes!" said Mary.

As they left the building, John said, "Why do I feel like I just condemned him to slaughter?"

Meanwhile, Sherlock was dealing with his parents' dealing with his daughter. "Oh, Sherl!" his mother sighed. "She's beautiful. I don't understand why we weren't here sooner." His father clapped him on the shoulder. "So, son, where's the mother? Obviously, she'd have to be beautiful to produce such a lovely baby. It can't have been the father!" He chortled. Sherlock plastered a smile on his face and leaned forward to take Brooklyn from his mother.

Brooklyn looked up at him and held up her arms, allowing him to lift her willingly. Mrs. Holmes put her hand on her heart and smiled. "I can die in peace now," she said, laughing. Then her face grew serious. "But you didn't answer your father. Where's the mother?" she gasped suddenly. "Sherlock. Did you get married without us knowing?" Sherlock grew pale again. "No, Mother, I did not," he said.

Sherlock's parents exchanged glances. "So… are you two together still?" asked his father. Sherlock avoided his parents' gazes. "We never were, so…" he said. "Why doesn't she have the baby?" asked his mother curiously. "Not that it isn't great that you're taking responsibility and all that," Mr. Holmes added quickly. "But she could have easily kept the baby without you knowing or caring."

Sherlock inclined his head to the little girl playing in his arms. "She opted not to," he said simply. "And I can't say I'm sorry." There was a moment of silence before Sherlock looked up again. "So," he said hopefully. "You've seen her, she's cute, you've imposed on my life, you've embarrassed me in front of my child's godparents-you can leave now?"

His mother laughed. "Didn't that dear woman-Mary was her name-tell you?" Mr. Holmes asked. "They were worried about you having Brooklyn for the full amount of time it'll take for Mary to have her baby. We're staying until they're back in action." He said this with a glint in his eye. "And," he added. "You can catch us up on how you ended up with this." He motioned to Brooklyn.

Brooklyn was in her element. With her grandparents there, she finally had someone to praise her fine crawling skills, and laugh when she grabbed her nose. She had even, much to John's embarrassment, Mary's honour, and Sherlock's fury, said her first word. "Mama," she had said to Mary.

After this, Sherlock had denied whenever they asked him to have Brooklyn over. "Mary will be having her baby any second now, and I doubt it's good for a nine-month old to be exposed to that," he said.

Mary did have her baby, and the Holmes saw the Watsons a good bit less after that. Brooklyn didn't mind this. She got plenty of attention from her grandparents. She mastered the baby puzzles they had brought for her in mere days. She spoke nonstop and was already close to walking. "She's just like you were," Mrs. Holmes told an annoyed Sherlock.

Brooklyn's birthday approached. "It should be a big celebration," his parents said to Sherlock. "We have to invite the mother, obviously, and the Watsons. We should invite that nice policeman, and Mrs. Hudson, and Terrence from bingo! He'd love Brooke. Oh, and-" "Mother," Sherlock interrupted. "You've never managed to suffer through my own or Mycroft's name, but I'd ask you to at least try with my daughter. Her name is Brooklyn. Not Brooke, Booksies, Boo, Sugar Bear, or Honey Bun."

This only stopped Mrs. Holmes for a moment. "What about that nice girl who took us to the theatre the last time we were here?" Mr. Holmes asked his wife. "Molly!" his wife said. "Yes, that's a good idea. Add Molly to the guest list, Sherlock." Sherlock did as they told him without a word. Nobody noticed how his hand shook as he wrote her name down.

After a moment, he asked, "What about Brooklyn's brother?" His parents looked at him for a second. When she spoke, Mrs. Holmes voice was scarily level. "Brooklyn's… brother?" "Yes, that's what I said," said Sherlock impatiently. He rose from his chair and approached his parents, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he walked. Once he reached them, he showed them the picture. "Blimey, Sherlock!" said his dad. "Identical twins! IDENTICAL." His mother wiped her eyes. "Yes," she said. "Invite him, too."