Morrie

Genre: Family, Romance, Humour

Pairings: Greg and Molly, Phillip and Jackie in background

Main characters: Greg, Molly, Toby, mention of new OC Morrie (trust me)

"Gregory," Molly said softly. "I want another one."

Greg closed his eyes. He had seen this coming for at least two months now, and he had dreaded the conversation he knew was coming.

The question was, would he be able to stay firm and resist, or would he buckle to his wife's fondest desires and wishes – or, he had to admit grudgingly to himself – his own heart's opinion on the matter.

He kicked himself as he felt his own resolve on the subject begin to quiver, admitting grudgingly that probably he wanted another one too, though he couldn't for the life of him figure out why any part of him thought it was a good idea.

"Molly, I'm not sure that's wise. I mean think of it. Little ones like that come with a lot of responsibility, and the expense… and we have to think of Toby as well. He's well adjusted now to our family, would it be fair to put more stress on him?"

Molly wasn't any more convinced of Greg's argument – logical and reasonable as it was – as Greg himself was.

The truth was, he was beginning to cave. He knew it, and worst of all, Molly knew it.

And, much as he hated to admit it, his faithful old buddy Toby wasn't getting any younger.

Molly smiled to herself and sidled up to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and resting her head on his chest. She brought a hand up to caress him through his shirt.

"Girl or boy?" she whispered.

Greg sighed. He was utterly screwed, and he knew it. Molly knew it. She smiled broadly against his shirt, turning her face up to gaze at her husband.

Her utterly screwed husband.

"Boy. Half the stress to neuter."

"Which one then?"

Greg sighed again.

"The black. There's a pure black, isn't there? Looks like he'll have green eyes. Always liked a green-eyed cat. I get to name him though. I won't agree unless I get to name him."

Molly hesitated a few moments. When Greg was in this cheeky smartass mood who knew what might come out of his imagination. She knew how a copper's mind worked, how his or her sense of humour rolled. She possessed that quality herself – it was a side-effect of what they did for a living.

"Fine. If it means I get to have another cat – "

Greg cut her off.

"WE get to have another cat," he reminded her firmly.

"If it means WE get to have another cat," Molly corrected herself, "letting you name him is a small thing, darling."

"Tell Jackie we'll take the little black male, then. And for God's sake tell her and Anderson to have his mother spayed already."

Molly couldn't argue with that request. "Definitely. But Gregory… what were you going to name him?"

Greg said nothing, only sliding his hand up Molly's side seductively.

"I haven't decided yet. But I'm going to take a guess that Diablo or Beze are out of the question. I may go for something simple like Morrie."

"Oh… Gregory Lestrade… you WOULDN'T…!" Molly gasped.

"My choice, my prerogative." Greg grinned at her impishly. "You've already agreed love. No turning back now."

"Oh, you really are a bastard, aren't you," Molly stated, though even she couldn't deny that the kitten they had their eye on had a certain dark quality about him.

"If I agree to Morrie we can take him home?" Molly finally asked. She took a small breath, letting it out quietly. "He's an innocent little kitten. Surely he's not as bad as his name might imply?"

Greg thought about this, and thought about the personality of the kitten he'd had his eye on too, but wouldn't admit it in a million years to Molly. For him, until now, it was a passing whim, one easily quashed by practicality. "Innocent, yeah. Not sure how long though. Maybe it'll just be a stage. We'll have to see how Morrie grows up, maybe Toby can keep him in line."

Toby Hooper would greet his new flatmate with initial disdain, then graduate to pure resentment, then downgrade the status to a simple bit of aloofness.

The moment little Morrie, however, in his relentless attempts at acceptance, took it upon himself to groom a particular spot on his back that Toby, in his advancing age, found it hard to reach anymore, , the deal was struck.

Morrie Lestrade was Toby's apprentice, and nobody was more delighted than Greg to find them one afternoon upon his early return from work, curled up in a sunbeam in the window, looking for all the world like they actually MEANT to get along.

Baker Street had its next generation of Consulting Mouser, and all would go well.

Until, that was, 221B acquired a puppy.