Small Mercies

Genre: Friendship, Humour

Pairings: Greg and Molly, Sherlock and Sally, Phillip Anderson and OC Jackie, all background

Main characters: Greg, Molly, Phillip, introducing Ciana Jane Anderson, daughter of Phillip and OC Jackie

Jackie Anderson was six months a bride and one week due to give birth when she and Phillip decided to invite everyone over for a late summer dinner party. They intended for it to be one last go at the season before London decided to piss all over their parade with autumn weather.

"How close is she again?" Greg had asked Molly. Molly had shrugged, her mouth twisting in her way to suppress uncontrolled giggling.

"Any day now, maybe a week. Why, darling?" Molly asked, innocently.

Greg cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows. "I'm not going anywhere NEAR Anderson's townhouse. No damned way. Not a mile, not a yard, not a damn bloody foot."

Molly struggled but managed to return to a more sober expression. She glanced over at Michael and Grace Holmes, playing quietly with Greer in the middle of their living room floor. They had been the last babies delivered by Greg when emergency childbirth had come knocking at his door. It was an experience that he vowed to never put himself knowingly into a position to endure.

Ever.

Again.

"That's not something that could ever happen again, love, don't be so paranoid and ridiculous. They only want to celebrate while they still have the time and energy to."

"I was his bloody best man when he married Jackie, isn't that enough? I seem to remember celebrating plenty that night and anyway I'm pretty sure I have a playdate with my daughter that day." Greg wasn't budging.

"AND our sons," he added for emphasis.

"As a matter of fact, I do believe that I'm to chaperone Rosie and Julian."

Greg smiled sweetly. "We're to teach Michael and Grace how to tell the difference between their left shoe and their right shoe."

When Molly stared at him blankly, he added, "It's a crucial stage in their development, learning left from right."

Molly levelled a glare at him. "Bullshit," she said.

"Someone has to mind the little ones. Anderson did that duty when Sherlock and Sally were married and he really mostly looked after ours. Now it's someone else's turn and it's only fair. TAG. I'm it."

"You do realize that John and I will both be there, yeah?" Molly pointed out, still trying to reason with her husband. "And that both of us are doctors. And that trumps your first aid training, and ABSOLUTELY absolves you of any sense of duty whatsoever?"

Greg narrowed his eyes.

"The chances of Jackie going into labour in those few hours you'll be there are astronomically low, Gregory. You can mind the children if you want to but you ARE going to be doing it at Phillip and Jackie's, whilst enjoying their company and indulging in the meal they plan to treat everyone to."

Greg closed his eyes and sighed heavily. If he had learned anything over the years, it was to pick his battles.

This was one where retreat was probably called for.

As it turned out, Jackie Anderson would indeed go into labour, but it would be five days after the party. She would do so in a rather undramatic fashion, with Greg Lestrade a solid 10 kilometres away, hunting down a witness.

The first time he would see Ciana Jane Anderson, she would be in her father's arms, bringing her to the Yard for his turn at bragging rights. Sally would gush at the little girl and claim her for a solid 10 minutes of cradling and coddling, while Kieran, on his way out into the field, would take five minutes to coo and admire her.

Greg himself had designated his day to desk duty, catching up on paperwork and reports that he had skillfully avoided up until that point. When his lanky forensics tech appeared at the doorway of his office with a tiny wiggling bundle, Greg found himself unable to resist a break from the drudgery of forms and filings.

"She's a pretty little lass, isn't she," he said as his arms, now well seasoned in holding babies, cradled her. "She favours Jackie, I reckon."

Anderson chuckled proudly, gazing at his baby girl with shining blue eyes. "Yes, thank God for small mercies!"

Greg smiled, thinking that the fact that Anderson's little daughter had arrived with absolutely no interaction with him whatsoever was, without question, the biggest small mercy of them all.