Author's Note: I just now realized this is Chapter 100. I know I don't have many readers for this but for the small handful who have caught on and hung on, I thank you sincerely. The chapters have come to a crawl the past four weeks due to my dad's sudden death and the subsequent distractions dealing with his estate, full time work, etc. But there is a new bunny hopping thanks to my friend MissD721. So to the two or three of you who follow this, thank you for your patience!

One Girl, One Boy

Genre: Family, Friendship, FUTURE FIC

Pairings: Johnnie and Josie, Rosie and Julian, others background

Main characters: Greg, John, Sherlock

"I know what you're having," Sherlock said casually, as he sat down at the table in 221B with Greg and John.

"Which who?" John asked. "We're both to be grandparents, which of us are you talking about, and what do you mean you know…?"

"Both of you. One a granddaughter, no doubt as beautiful as her mother and as clever as her father. The other a grandson, unquestionably as handsome as his father and as intelligent as his mother. Both will be strong, and brave, and will make us all proud, but the two of you most especially."

"Your deductions are about as useful as a leaky life boat, mate," John huffed. He glanced at Greg, who merely shrugged. As Greg offered the plate of biscuits Kieran had left behind the the day before when he and Emma had visited for tea, John took one gratefully.

"I think you're pissing in our ears and telling us it's raining, Sherlock," Greg said casually, as he bit into a coconut oatmeal biscuit that John had baked that morning. He closed his eyes briefly in sheer bliss as he chewed. Swallowing, he continued, "there's no possible way you could know what Rosie and Josie are each having. Unless you've either seen the scans, or charmed the girls into telling you."

"I once proposed to a woman to gain access to an office," Sherlock said, as he bit into his fourth ginger nut. "Successfully, I might add," Sherlock reminded the DCI. "I also remind you that I once convinced Molly to lie for me for two years to cover up my… NOT-so-dead death. I may be older and none the wiser, but I still have a certain way of charming the female persuasion."

"Well, I've my own theory on this," John theorized with a smug expression. "I think they felt sorry for their old Uncle Sherlock and took mercy on you. They probably couldn't stand the puppy-dog look you were giving them any longer so they caved." John winked at his best friend as he rose to retrieve the coffee pot.

"Mock all you want, John, but it's bloody effective. YES then. I haven't deduced anything. Rosie and Josie have told me. One a girl, one a boy."

"Are you going to enlighten us then, O Clever One?" Greg asked, as he leaned back in his chair. He brought his ankle up to his knee and smiled innocently at Sherlock.

John cleared his throat and sat back himself, crossing his arms. He gazed at Sherlock expectantly, taking only a moment to raise a knowing eyebrow and grin at Greg.

"Well now, don't make ME do all the grunt work, gentlemen," the consulting detective protested. "Who of my nieces and nephews would I be so blatantly biased as to call the most beautiful and most handsome of them all? NOT to exclude Greer and Daniel, and of course Scott. But THEY aren't having children just yet. At least, as far as I'm aware Greer and Sam aren't, and I certainly hope Daniel isn't, as that would be with MY daughter. Scott doesn't count as he's John's identical twin."

John rolled his eyes as Greg sighed heavily. "WE haven't even seen the scans yet, you bloody git. So given that we're speaking of my daughter and Greg's son, I suppose we can safely conclude that Rosie and Julian are to have a girl, and John and Josie a boy?"

Greg coughed lightly. "Actually John, I HAVE seen them. Briefly, but I've seen them. Molly was looking at them on her tablet and thought I was fully engrossed in the footy match on the telly. I may have peeked over her shoulder on the pretense of nibbling on her…"

"We GET IT, Greg," Sherlock rolled his eyes, though secretly thinking it wasn't SUCH a bad idea. He himself had been using the same trick on Sally for years, more or less.

"Oh bloody LOVELY then," John huffed. "So you're saying that I'M the only one who hasn't seen them?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say THAT necessarily, John. I don't believe Anthea has seen them yet… though Mycroft may have." Sherlock smiled impishly into his tea cup.

"Oh, sod off you lanky bastard," he sneered. "I need something stronger. Greg? Beer or scotch?"

Greg only seemed to think a moment on this. "Beer, thanks."

"So then. What will be their names?" Greg challenged. He had heard a few ideas thrown about – Rosie on their horseback rides out to Larkspur Lane – now increased in frequency as Rosie knew their chances would be numbered soon, before a long hiatus, and Josie in The Nook while they waited for the rest of the Lestrade clan to join them.

"No idea," Sherlock admitted quickly. "Time will tell, though the obvious choices have been taken. Some of them more than once. If pressed, I might suppose an Irish influence from either of them, given Josie and Julian's heritage. Perhaps Doyle, or Bailey, or Riley perhaps. Patrick, or rather Patricia is likely as it's Kieran's middle name, or perhaps Kieran might come into play somehow. Siobhan for a girl wouldn't surprise me. Or Kathleen, I believe that's Molly's middle name. Beyond that I couldn't even begin to guess."

"Look at that then, would you Greg?" John laughed heartily. "The Great Detective himself spews off more than a half dozen suggestions, then declares himself stumped!"

Greg nodded in John's direction, his head bobbing in agreement.

"One a girl, one a boy. I should think we'd be happy enough with that for now, don't you suppose?" Greg pointed out.

"Indeed," John agreed, as Sherlock smiled at the both of them.

"I'm just glad it's the two of you and not me," Sherlock declared. "Grace is far too young for such folly."

"Oh, give it time," Greg said lightly. "I do believe that one day she and Daniel might just surprise all of us, or THINK they are at least."

"Your girl, my boy," John said simply, with a sparkle in his eye. "Even Greg and I can deduce THAT."

Sherlock sat back with a peaceful expression.

"Indeed John. My girl, your boy."