A/N: Hello my Sherlockians! So, it's official: there is an end to the story. I've just started writing the last two chapters, and those will be posted sometime later on next week. Anyway, thank you for your continued readership and reviews!

Aveline Aurora Jenkins was born during the early morning hours of a beautiful late-April Tuesday. She weighed exactly six pounds, was nineteen inches long, and had given her parents a bit of a scare when she took a little while to start crying after being born.

At least, that's what they told John, Mary, Mycroft, Lestrade, and Mrs. Hudson when they came to meet the little girl. Irene and Sherlock both failed to mention Sherlock's disappearance from the room and his subsequent emotional breakdown, or the fact that Irene and Sherlock had both been crying tears of sadness throughout the first few hours after the infant's birth.

Once the Watsons arrived, Mary busied herself by taking photos of the occasion while John made a few phone calls to inform other less important people of the new arrival. Nurses swarmed the room and more people arrived to the room to meet the baby. Everything worked like clockwork, timely and predictable, leaving Irene and Sherlock feeling rushed and that their privacy was being compromised.

Eventually, the rush died away, and John and Mary went home.

Aveline was brought in for her feeding during the late afternoon. Since Irene and Sherlock were already well versed in this process, the nurse left the room, leaving them alone for the second time as a trio.

"Funny how two people with the same genetic makeup can look so different," Irene remarked as she combed back her daughter's curls.

"I think her hair is going to be lighter than Adele's," Sherlock observed. "My mother had light hair."

Irene glanced up at him. "She did? Where did you get your hair from then?"

"My father had very dark hair."

She smiled. "Well… my father had blonde hair. My mother had dark hair. Maybe her genes will cause her to have lighter hair."

Aveline's gaze was transfixed on her mother. Though emotions were running on high for her parents, she seemed perfectly content being with her parents, blissfully unaware of any older sibling that was tragically absent. Her little hand grabbed at the necklace that Irene wore, the chain with her ring on it. She was more active than Adele had been at birth. Perhaps her curious nature had kicked in sooner.

The following afternoon, they brought Aveline home from the hospital. This time, Irene was far more relaxed about the process and Sherlock didn't need to assure her that they had installed the car seat correctly. There were benefits to having prior knowledge for all of this.

John and Mary had brought several meals to the flat so they wouldn't have to worry about cooking or cleaning. While Sherlock heated up various dishes that Mary had prepared, Irene took a shower. Aveline's cot was in the kitchen so Sherlock could keep an eye on her.

About ten minutes after Irene went to take a shower, Aveline woke up and began squalling. Sherlock turned off the burners before tending to the infant, and walked over to the cot. He lifted her up and brought her to his shoulder. Now it was time to recall all of the tricks he had used to get Adele to go to sleep. "Avi…" he hummed.

He stopped. "No… Avi is a rubbish nickname. I'm sure your mother will use Avi. It's not original in any sense. Hum…"

Aveline seemed to quiet down now that she was being walked around the flat. "Aveline… French for beautiful bird. Birds… Birdy. Birdy. Yes, that's it. You're like a little bird. Complements nicely to Kitty. You probably would have liked Kitty. She would have certainly loved you. She probably would have chased you around the flat, trying to catch you as you ran away from her, antagonizing her like any younger sibling would."

He glanced down at Aveline and saw that she was trying to watch the source of his voice. Another girl who liked the sound of him talking. What was it with these Adler girls and his voice? "We weren't expecting to have another one after Kitty. Mummy will probably tell you that you were not an accident, but while you're still little and probably can't really understand what I'm saying anyway, I'm going to be honest with you: you were an accident. We didn't think we could handle having another baby after what happened to your sister. But, I think now that maybe we're going to be okay. You've got the entire Scotland Yard to look after your safety, not to mention the British government. Your uncle was especially thrilled to meet you," he explained quietly.

Aveline curled closer against her father and let out a little sigh. He could tell that she was relaxing and had stopped fighting sleep. Yup. Another Adler girl who fell asleep to the sound of his voice. That part was going to be easy. It was everything else that was going to be difficult, especially since Sherlock had fallen into fatherhood far too quickly this time around and that scared him. There was no telling how similar Aveline would be to Adele at this point.

But then again, there really was no point in trying to figure it out. If little Aveline Jenkins was her parents' daughter, she going to be her own person with her own opinions, world views, and ways of doing things. She would be exactly like her big sister in that respect. Sherlock knew that somewhere, Adele was very pleased.