Ordinary Heroes

Genre: Friendship, Family

Pairings: Greg and Molly, Sherlock and Sally, Kieran and Emma, background only

Main characters: Greg, Sherlock, John, Sally, Kieran

"Did you have any heroes growing up, Sir?"

Kieran Bailey had decided to join Greg, Sally, Sherlock, and John at the pub after a particularly stressful case had finally had a breakthrough and had come to a point where nothing more could be done until morning. Kieran knew that Julian was at Baker Street doing homework with Rosie, Mrs. Hudson looking after the brood, and Emma was out with Molly shopping for the baby that the Bailey household would be welcoming in a few short months. He didn't feel like going home to an empty flat, so he took his boss up on the offer to join them instead.

"Kieran," Greg said lightly, but firmly, "We're not on duty now. You really ARE allowed to call me Greg."

"Who's 'Greg', Graham?" Sherlock asked, feigning confusion, his voice distorted from speaking into his glass of ale as he took a pull from it. He grimaced and said, "HEY!" as Sally gave him a light kick under the table. She knew by now that her husband was speaking in jest, but she nonetheless loved an opportunity to tune him in, even jokingly.

"Okay… Greg…" Kieran said carefully, as if testing the waters with it the liberty that had honestly never occurred to him before.

"Did you have any heroes growing up?"

Greg smiled at this. The 'Sir' vs 'Greg' deflection, minor as it was, had allowed him a chance to quickly consider the question. He honestly had had enough adults in his life as a child that he looked up to and admired that he found himself having trouble deciding.

"Not fictional ones, real people besides your own parents, I mean," Kieran elaborated.

"Well," Greg said thoughtfully as he studied his glass, "I'd have to say my uncle James. He was a veteran, Second World War. But it was more than just that with him. He was a truly good man, more like a second father to me really."

"Did something happen to your own dad?" John asked curiously as he dug his hand into the bowl of nuts in front of them.

"Oh, no, nothing at all," Greg said. "My dad was great, really. More patience than I deserved. Embarrassed to say I was a bit of a punk for a couple of years in my early teens. Dad was patient with me, but Uncle James really got me turned back onto the straight path, and early enough too to keep me from ever having to appear in front of the magistrate. No, Uncle James taught me the value of discipline and honour."

"He sounds like an amazing man," Sally said softly. "You could say he helped to shape you into who you are today then?" She swirled her dwindling wine in the glass.

"Definitely. I only hope I do the same for the kids in my life now, to be honest. Be half the man Uncle James was. Dad too. "

"I think you do, S… uh... Greg," Kieran said. He chuckled to himself. "Anyway, you're never going to believe who my childhood hero is, and one of the two reasons I became a copper in the first place."

"This sounds like a good one," John said, smiling. He motioned to the barmaid for another round.

"I've seen a lot in my time, Kieran. I just may believe it," Greg laughed.

"Well, at the risk of being a sap… one of my childhood heroes is actually you."

The table was met with a brief silence as they took that in, and it suddenly occurred to both Kieran and Greg that they may still actually be the only two people at the table who knew their full history.

"Greg? But Kieran, how could that be, you only met each other last year when my Old Plod went on maternity leave from the Yard?" Sherlock asked, truly perplexed.

"Actually, the first time we met a long time ago," Greg said with a mysterious grin. He exchanged a look with Kieran. "Then we met again when he joined my team last year."

Kieran said nothing for few moments as attention suddenly focused on him, broken only momentarily as the waitress brought their fresh round.

"You know how Greg sometimes figuratively smacks my ass just to make me yell? Well that's not the first time he's done that… the first time WAS actually a literal smack." Kieran took a pull from his first glass, emptying it, as the table took this in and tried to figure out what the hell he was talking about.

Finally, he explained. "Greg here was the first person in the world to ever lay eyes upon me," Kieran said. "He was a young Sergeant on holiday when my mother somehow got lost out by Dewar's Hollow. She was pregnant with me at the time. He found her but before they could make it back to town, she went into labour. I never knew his name until last year, I knew a few details but not his name. For years I looked up to a man whose face I didn't know. I thought that it was the most amazingly heroic thing. Mum remembered him as being calm and comforting even though she figured he was probably secretly pissing his pants!"

"She wouldn't be far off," Greg admitted. "I was a little calmer the last time," he said, throwing a half smile at Sally. "I was terrified but then there you were, safely arrived. Holding you the moment you were born was something of an affirmation for me. Police work has always been to serve and to protect. Sometimes we forget that "serve" bit I think. It's good to be reminded now and then that we're about more than catching criminals." Greg glanced back to Kieran and tried to come across as amused, but privately, he was deeply humbled by the declaration by his newest team member. Kieran, learning the nuances of reading body language from Greg, wasn't fooled by his boss, and he briefly worried if he'd embarrassed him a bit by being too sappy.

"That's amazing," John said, chuckling softly. "Of course I've delivered a lot of babies in my time, that's just par for the course for a doctor… I guess I never thought much about it being outside your comfort zone. So how about you then Sally, who is your childhood hero?"

"Don't really have one," Sally admitted. "Though if I were to think about it, maybe it would be my neighbour Stella. She was a tough bird, had a rough life. Her husband was killed in a workplace accident, and she had a boy about my age. But she made it through one day at a time. I remember hearing her one day out in her yard, she was pulling carrots or something in her garden, and she was singing. All the shit she lived through and she still felt like singing. She never had much as I remember, but she was always willing to share. I remember singing with her a few times now that I think about it. She had a lovely voice."

"So do you, love," Sherlock said wistfully. "Hearing you sing at Greg and Molly's wedding was incredible. I cherish that moment. I really think that was the start of us," he smiled.

Sally smiled back at him, blushing slightly. "I think maybe it was. But what about you, Git?" she asked, reaching over to squeeze his arm. "Did you have a childhood hero?"

"A pirate of some kind I'd lay money on," Greg snickered. John grinned into his glass in private agreement as he emptied it. He set it down and reached for the fresh one, snickering to himself.

"Sherlock doesn't believe that heroes exist, apparently," John said lightly.

"I do now, John. That was the old me, remember? You should bloody remember, you were there after all," Sherlock said, firing a playfully sniffy look at John and all but sticking his tongue out at his best friend.

"No," he continued more seriously, "I would have to say my violin instructor. After Eurus taught me the basics and then vanished from our midst, I kept it up. My dad found another instructor and she taught me the value of feeling. I had no idea what it meant then, but on some level I still… experienced emotion. Music is a great unifier between skill and heart, maybe it was the only emotional connection I had then until I met Greg and John. I suppose I understood it more comprehensively after Sherrinford," he said quietly, looking at John. His best friend smiled briefly, averting his eyes for a moment.

"Yes, you did," John finally said. "For everything that happened to us there, you came out of it more human than I ever realized you could be capable of being."

A silence fell over the group as they each became lost in their thoughts. Finally, Kieran broke it, saying, "What about you, John. Did you have a childhood hero?"

John paused as he thought about this for a few moments. Finally, he replied, "No. Not really… all of my heroes were met in my adulthood. That happens for a soldier, I suppose. You witness valour beyond normal comprehension, and humanity amongst the inhumane. If one could say a CHILD hero though, I'd say my daughter. Rosie gave me purpose when it seemed I had none left. No matter what happened, no matter how many times I tried to flip the switch off after Mary died, there was always Rosie. Life couldn't stop completely because she needed me to keep going. Always, life goes on."

"Fair enough," Greg said. "I think we might all agree that there's a little bit of hero in all of our children, though. Small ways maybe, ordinary ways."

"Ordinary little heroes," Sherlock said. "But then aren't all heroes and heroines just ordinary people? People who do things for others without even really being aware of their impact? Greg, did you realize what your impact would be when you delivered Kieran nearly 30 years ago? Or were you just doing what you needed to in order to help his mother? Or you, Love," he said, turning to Sally. "Did Stella know she was your heroine, or was she just getting herself through life one day at a time?"

Another thoughtful silence fell over the table. Sally smiled to herself at her husband's words. Finally, she raised her glass, a cue to the others to do the same thing.

"To Ordinary Heroes," she said, as their glasses clinked together.