Hello, Little Love
Genre: Drama, Family
Pairings: Greg and Molly, Sherlock and Sally
Main characters: Ensemble, and introducing Greer Sherla Lestrade.
Detective Sergeant Sally Donovan sat in the dark car, in the passenger seat next to her boss, Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade.
They patiently waited in silence, accustomed to the ritual of a stakeout. This one, it seemed, was very, very close to bearing fruit, and had the potential to close a case they had worked long and hard on for more than 8 months now.
Suddenly, unexpectedly, Sally's phone lit up. She hesitated – it was Sherlock, and he knew damned well that she was unavailable.
This had to be serious.
Where are you? G
Still on stakeout. OP
Greg is with you? G
Yes. OP
How long? G
Not sure. We're closing in. OP
Git? OP
Sherlock darling? OP
What's wrong? OP
Molly's in labour. At St. Bart's. G
She's early? OP
John says she's close enough. Bring Greg ASAP. G
ILY. G
ILY2. OP
Her phone sat quietly for a good hour, when suddenly it lit up again.
ETA? G
Don't know. We're really close. OP
How is Molly? OP
Progressing quicker than average. G
Does Greg know? G
Not yet. OP
Can he do anything for her? OP
No, not yet. In John's and Warburton's hands. G
She knows he's on a critical stakeout. She understands. G
ILY. G
ILY2. OP
No sooner had Sally hit send when Greg gave the signal to move. Sally struggled between the impulse to tell her boss and possibly ruin the culmination of month's worth of work they'd put in on this case, and not telling him of Molly's imminent delivery. In an instant, she had made her decision, and followed his lead towards their target.
He would be pissed at her, and probably justifiably so... but as Molly still had time, he would forgive her. Greg always understood, and he always forgave.
Greg, with an immense feeling of satisfaction, passed off their suspect, now in custody and in handcuffs, to the officers who would be transporting him to the Yard for processing. No sooner had he closed the car door when he turned on Sally, his focus shifting abruptly and thoroughly.
"What's going on, Donovan? I know Sherlock was texting you and I can read you like a bloody book," he said, with a sense of urgency.
Sally only took a moment. "Follow now, talk on the way, and for God's sake please forgive me," she said, as she grabbed his arm and pulled him towards their waiting car.
When they arrived at St. Bart's, Sally dragging him mercilessly towards where she knew Sherlock waited, Greg came to a grinding halt.
"Where is she?" he asked, trying desperately to remain calm.
Sherlock, glancing at Sally as she approached him and took her place by his side, simply said, "That-a-way," gesturing down the hall. John, emerging from the lift, gestured towards Greg to follow him.
Greg hesitated only a few seconds, turning to gesture to Sherlock and Sally to follow. "Well? What the hell are you waiting for? We've a baby to meet!"
As the nervously excited pair waited in the hallway, a familiar setting for Sherlock, but a new one for Sally, they chatted casually to distract themselves while they passed the time, speculating on Mrs. Hudson faring with Scott, Johnnie, and Rosie all together - especially since 3 year old Rosie had in recent months hauled the Lestrade twins up by their elbows and taught them how to walk.
Inside Molly's room, however, a few moments of frantic activity, which had followed what seemed like excruciatingly slow progress (though John and Dr. Warburton would later point out that Molly had actually been rather time-effective this time), Greg and Molly found themselves staring at the scrunched up, and generally pissed off looking face of their newborn daughter. Molly smiled at Greg as she held her, Greg with a smile of the most awestruck amazement as he reached up to stroke her tiny cheek. When he finally found his voice, he greeted his daughter in a low baritone, saying simply, "Hello, little love."
Outside, Sally and Sherlock had come to breathless silence upon hearing the sudden strong lusty cries of the newest little Lestrade. Sherlock attempted to stand, wanting to approach the door, but Sally held him down, wrapping an arm around his waist and moving closer to him. "Not yet love," she whispered. "Soon enough."
When John emerged minutes later, he gestured for them to come in. Sherlock's eyes grew wide as he entered the room and looked upon the small one that Greg now held. Molly smiled at him, gesturing for him to approach.
"My, my, what a perfectly gorgeous little creature you are," he murmured softly. "Tell me, little one, whom do I have the immense pleasure of addressing?"
Greg, his reverie broken, glanced up. Looking to Molly, he took her cue, handing the baby over to Sherlock to meet for the first time.
"Molly and I would like to introduce you to Miss Greer Sherla Lestrade," Greg said to him with quiet pride, as Sherlock took her in his arms. He swallowed hard and then looked up at Greg, and then down towards Molly, as he heard the name, and suddenly smiling like a fool, his eyes began to tear up.
"Greer Sherla," Sherlock said as he cradled her, his voice threatening to catch. Damned those emotions Eurus had let loose anyway, they left him a sniffling fool at the most inopportune moments. "I am so very, very pleased to meet you."