A Perfect Compromise

Genre: Family, Humour, FUTURE FIC

Pairings: Greg and Molly, Greer and Sam, John and Josie, all background

Main characters: Adults Greer, John, Scott; Greg and Molly

"You know you're breakin' mum's heart, yeah?"

Greer glared at her big brother. "John, it's MY wedding, I can wear whatever the hell I bloody well please, and what I please is my Detective dress uniform."

"Greer Sherla," Scott said. "That's a cop-out and you bloody well know it."

The Lestrade twins shared a look before training their dark brown eyed gazes on their baby sister.

"WHAT?" Greer said defensively. "It's got a skirt. A SKIRT is a DRESS. Sort've. Anyway its Sam's wedding too and he doesn't care what I'm wearing, only that I'm there saying the I do's and the til death do us part's, and promising to grow old with him."

"Greer," Scott said, turning on his voice of reason tone. "Ever since you were a baby, mum has talked about going dress shopping with you someday. She's dreamed of it for your entire life, Sis," the younger twin said, contemplating his ale, before bringing his face up to gaze at her.

This was the hard part, Greer knew. Her darkly handsome brothers were dead ringers for their dad when he was their age, and looking at them inspired the same sort of guilt that she would have felt had it been him there in the Nook with her, discussing her wedding plans.

Scott looking at her with their dad's eyes, John taking on the thoughtful look he'd inherited, both of them smiling in that trademark Greg Lestrade way, were all enough to make Greer seriously rethink things.

"Dress shopping really isn't my thing," she pleaded quietly, almost guiltily. "It's really not my idea of a fun time. I'd much rather shop for flowers, and a caterer, and a venue, and the cake, and everything ELSE with Mum. Everyone always makes such a STUPID bloody FUSS about the damned dress. It's frivolity at its bloody WORST. It's just a massive wasted pile of white fabric that's overpriced and overrated, and will only be worn once."

A brief silence fell over the trio seated in the Nook.

"Worn once," Scott suddenly said. "Oh, baby sis, you are bloody BRILLIANT!"

Scott shared a look with John, as his face took on a look of sudden comprehension, the twin brothers realizing that they had once again spoken to each other without actually saying anything out loud.

"Bollocks, brother, I think we have a solution. But we need to make it work somehow… I wonder if Grace can help, she's a bloody genius when it comes to these things." John raised his glass of single malt and took a sip, his eyebrow raised in a most self-satisfied way.

"Well well, if you lot don't look like the cats that've stolen the cream," Greer said, swirling the scotch in her own glass. "Care to fill the bride in on your brilliant master plans?"

"What if there were a way for you to avoid breaking mum's heart, and avoid dress shopping at the same time?" Scott asked mysteriously.

"AND a way to surprise her and dad while you're at it? Mum is deeply disappointed but Dad is only resigned because above all else he loves you and wants your day to be one that'll make YOU happy. So I think this would be a wonderful way…" John said, with a crooked grin and a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

"Oh, I'm all over that, big brothers," she said, at this point willing to listen to them.

"Now, the question is… well Sis, you're quite a lot taller than Mum, but I believe you're close to the same size otherwise…" Scott said, thoughtfully, the gears already turning in his head. "Close enough at least to be workable…"

"Grace will be able to tell us," John pointed out. "But I really think it's doable. It's going to take a hell of a lot of stealth, but it's definitely doable. I'll just bet Joey can tell us though," he said, summoning her over. "After all, she's a bridesmaid too," he said as if to definitively justify it.

Josie, having arrived at John's motioning, leaned in to listen briefly to her beloved's query as he whispered mysteriously in her ear. Nodding with a small grin, she studied Greer, top to bottom, much to Greer's confusion.

"Yes, Darling... I think it can work," Josie finally said, with a small smile and a nod. "I agree though, Grace would know for sure."

Over the coming weeks, many plans were made and discussed in the Nook at the Lestrade family's favourite pub. Josie, when busy on shift and unable to join them, watched in delight as dreams came together, as parents shed tears of joy, and a blushing bride-to-be kept a most wonderful secret with her two older brothers in a most delicate conspiracy, joined, on occasion, by various members of the wedding party (including Josie herself when the meetings happened at the tail end of her shift), and a young woman with tight jet black curls and stunning multi-coloured eyes, intent on sharing progress on a very special project.

When Greer and Sam's big day finally arrived, Greg and Molly stood outside with the groomsmen, waiting patiently for their sons to deliver their only daughter, and the rest of the wedding party.

It had been unusual to not be there to assist her to get dressed and ready, and Molly had been disappointed, but she had kept that Lestrade stiff upper lip, gained through marriage to the most determined man she knew - merely glad to be mother to a bride. It was only a minor thing, she told herself. Only a small part of one day in the whole of her daughter's life. Ciana, Rosie, Grace, and Josie had all been there, and Molly trusted them and their reasons.

Greg, prepared for his role and as was their tradition, had assisted Samuel with the usual advice that the best way to go about this day would be to dress up, show up, and shut up, seemed more content, though no less full of nervous energy than Molly was. Sam, for his part, had relaxed somewhat when he realized from the dancing, laughing dark brown eyes of his soon-to-be-father-in-law, that Greg HAD, in fact, been joking when he had warned the nervous groom that if he ever hurt his baby girl, Greg knew ALL the best spots to dig a shallow grave so it might not be found for YEARS – if ever.

When John and Scott finally pulled up, Greg and Molly fully expected to see their daughter emerge in her full Scotland Yard dress regalia. John emerged first, from the driver's seat, going up to his parents and taking them by their arms.

"Mum, Dad," he said softly, mysteriously, in a voice that was just beginning to take on a soft gravelly note like Greg's, "the bride requests that you turn around for a moment," gently placing his hands on their backs and sliding them down to their arms, urging them to do as he requested.

Returning to the car, he grinned at Scott and nodded as his barely younger brother opened the car door and offered a hand to their baby sister.

Greg and Molly shared a careful sideways glance to each other as they heard a gentle crunch of gravel beneath approaching feet.

"Mummy, Daddy," Greer said softly. "You can turn around now."

Greg and Molly took a deep breath, then did as their daughter requested.

Molly's hand flew to her mouth as the tears immediately sprung. "Oh, Greer," she said, with a joyful, breathless laugh. "You little scamp, my beautiful girl how did you manage this?"

Greg simply stared speechless for a few moments, gathering his wits about him. "Oh, my Little Love," he finally managed to breathe out, his gravelly voice barely above a whisper as it threatened to catch. He blinked at her several times, before finally opening his arms to her. "You are… I have no words, Greer."

"Damnit Dad, you're gonna make her cry. You know how much Greer hates crying in front of us," John said softly, his own voice threatening to catch. Beside him, Scott merely cleared his throat as he regained his own composure. Josie, escorting John as one of the bridesmaids, Grace Holmes, another bridesmaid, Rosie Bailey, and Ciana Anderson, serving as Greer's Maid of Honour, stood by, delicately coughing, in vain attempts to not mess their makeup before the official photos.

"Oh, it's alright," Greer said, brushing her brothers off as she pulled back from Greg's embrace. "It's a completely fair and reasonable reaction."

Before her parents, Greer stood. With a minor alteration here, and a lengthening there, a subtle letting out in a few places, and the addition of a few custom-made accessories to blend something old with something new (and something most decidedly borrowed as well), Grace Holmes had worked her seamstress magic.

Molly stood proud, and Greg breathless, as their daughter presented herself to them wearing Molly's own wedding dress.

The perfect compromise for a bride who hated dress shopping, but had decided that perhaps her Met dress blues wouldn't quite be the thing to get married in, after all.