'Are you sure about this?' John asks, peering at the rickety attic stairs Sherlock's just bounded up, 'I think we might actually be able buy some baby things, now that …' he fumbles for the right words but Violet fills the gap,

'Now that Sherlock has accepted he can actually talk about Sherrinford rather than bringing him in into your lives in the abstract? Well yes. But there's no sense in spending money unnecessarily and they're all just gathering dust here.'

'That's true,' John arches his back as he nods, 'so I'll say thank you for both of us. I like the idea of keeping things in the family.'

An hour later and the upper hallway is a mess - pieces of well worn oak furniture surrounded by stacks of books and several bags of baby clothes. Sherlock darts down the stairs, drops a final book on the pile and goes over to John and Violet, who are sitting in the window seat overlooking the grounds, talking animatedly over an old photo album.

'If you two have quite finished cooing over my baby pictures,' Sherlock snarks, 'Mummy can call Reginald to help me pack the car.'

'Don't be ridiculous,' Violet says, standing and kissing Sherlock's cheek, 'I'll have it all sent on. You hired a Jaguar, darling, it won't even hold the bassinet.'