The Most Grievous Convincing
Genre: Family; Romance; FUTURE FIC
Pairings: Greg and Molly, Johnnie and Josie
Main characters: Greg, Molly, John and Josie mentioned
"John came to see me earlier today," Greg said casually, as he and Molly curled up on the sofa. Greer and Sam had just left their flat, and the elder Lestrades sat comfortably together with intimacy that had somehow managed to never wane over the years.
"OUR John, I gather?" Molly asked curiously. Greg leaned in to kiss her cheek with a happy sigh.
"Yes, our John, or more properly now, Josie's John. He wanted to ask permission for a name for their boy."
Molly nearly spilled her wine at this. "Permission!" she exclaimed with a burst of a laugh, gently slapping his arm. "Since when does your son ask permission for anything!"
"Fair enough," Greg chuckled, as he stretched his legs out in front of him. "He felt in this case it might be appropriate though."
Molly sighed with the remnants of her laugh. "Well, which name then, darling? Gregory, or Joseph?"
"Well… Gregory is a bit overdone by now I think", Greg started slowly. Molly glanced to him, noting the wince, and smiling in silent agreement. "Joseph of course is more fitting given my middle name and Josie's proper name…"
"And you advocated for that, did you darling?" Molly teased, as she reached over to pull a blanket over her legs. "Joseph IS a sensible name, and a rather handsome one I must say."
"I suppose it might be," Greg admitted, with a small smile. "But I'm pleased to report that our grandson's first name is to be something wholly unrelated to anyone living in 221 Baker Street…"
Molly snuggled closer to her husband, smiling as his arm reflexively tightened around her. "So it's not to be Gregory, or John... or Sherlock or Hamish thank GOD... or Scott, William… oh my. What is it to be then, my silver fox?" she encouraged.
Greg rolled his eyes, before taking a bracing breath. "I'm sworn to silence, love. Only the most grievous of convincing might make me spill the beans…"
"Oh, is that SO then," came her quietly sly reply. "I WAS to make pot roast tomorrow, I know it's your favourite. I might instead settle for fish and chips takeaway. Of course only the most grievous of convincing might change my mind…"
"The way to a man's heart is through his belly, hey?" Greg laughed. "And here I thought I'd have to shag my gorgeous wife. Shame she thinks a bit of roast beef and vegetables suffice these days…"
"Might you shag her anyway, you know… just in case?" Molly asked slyly, as she allowed her hand to wander over his chest and middle.
"Only if there's pot roast involved," Greg said with a low chuckle, as he wrapped himself around her.
"Aiden, by the way. Aiden Joseph is to be our little grandladdie's name. There, I've said it," he whispered into her ear. Molly smiled at this.
Molly didn't much like fish and chips anyway, and a good thing too. She'd had an awful craving for pot roast lately.