The Lestrade Siblings Plan a Surprise

Genre: Family

Pairings: Ensemble pairings, background

Main characters: Greg, Greer, Scott, Johnnie

"Daddy," Greer said one evening, when Molly was working late and Greg was home at 221C with their children. "What is Mummy's FAVOURITE dish in the WHOLE WORLD?"

Scott snickered and gave Johnnie a poke to the ribs. "DADDY is, silly girl. She's ALWAYS saying how dishy he is!" He rolled his eyes heavenwards while making a swooning motion at the word "dishy".

Greg held back a snort and a chuckle, instead managing somehow to give his young son a firm look. "I don't think that's what your sister was referring to, Son," he said. Scott giggled, knowing full well by now that while his dad might at least try to look stern in those moments, the sparkle in his dark brown eyes gave away his secret amusement.

"Of course not, Daddy," Scott said, in half apology. "It's just nice to see Mummy so happy when you're home… and YOU so happy as well. Some of our school mates aren't as happy at home as we are," he said, reflectively. His twin brother nodded in agreement with this.

"Yes, some of our best mates have parents who don't get along very well, or just a mummy, or a daddy, and not both. So yes, it's SO nice to have TWO parents, who obviously love each other very much," Johnnie added.

Greg sighed. Beaten by the wisdom of his children, yet again. Sherlock always maintained they got that from their father, but Greg always thought they learned their ways from the collective influences at 221 Baker Street – indeed, Greg believed fully, ALL of the children in Mrs. Hudson's humble house shared those traits for those very reasons.

"So…" Greer said, with an impish sparkle in her brown eyes, "that said, Daddy, what is Mummy's favourite dish?"

"Little Love, you never ask questions without reason, and generally when you do, you have some sort of scheme brewing in that beautiful little head of yours. Whatever my answer is to be, I'm sure you've got plans to have me prepare it for… hmmmm…" Greg said, with a playful half-smile at first his small daughter and then her older brothers, bringing a finger up to scratch his temple thoughtfully. "Let's see… it's not our wedding anniversary, and it's not Christmas, nor is it Valentine's Day… it's not to be Mothering Sunday either… are you perchance plotting some sort of surprise for Mummy for her birthday?" Greg rose an inquiring eyebrow.

Greer giggled at this. "No worries, Daddy, Uncle John has already agreed to make a grand HUGE birthday cake for her. But we, that is to say Scott and Johnnie and myself… well we thought maybe you could make something VERY special, but perhaps… have it be something…"

Scott couldn't stop himself. "Something that WE could help you with, Daddy. We're old enough, we make brekkie ALL THE TIME now for you and Mummy, and we haven't set anything afire yet… well, not much anyway," he said with a tiny embarrassed smile.

"That wasn't OUR fault, Scott," Johnnie said, defensively. "The toaster wasn't working properly and really it just made a lot of smoke, is all. There weren't any actual FLAMES, or anything…"

Greg cleared his throat, then took a deep breath. On the outside, he was calm, but on the inside, he was bursting with laughter at the exchange. He did, in fact, remember that morning, and tossing said toaster in the bin after the smoke had figuratively – and literally - cleared. He'd just been grateful that his twin sons had the wherewithal to unplug it and step back until Greer could summon him and Molly to the kitchen.

"Well, then in that case, I think I have just the thing. Now tell me, are you planning to have everyone attend? Mrs. Hudson, and Uncle Sherlock and Auntie Sally, and the twins… Uncle John and Auntie Alex and Rosie, and Daniel?"

"Oh YES, Daddy! And Julian and Gareth and Uncle Kieran and Auntie Emma, and Uncle Phillip and Auntie Jackie and Ciana…" Johnnie said, excitedly, no longer able to contain himself.

"It's to be a GRAND celebration, with EVERYONE here. But you need not worry about EVERYTHING, Daddy," Scott added. "Everyone is bringing a little something. As a matter of fact," he said, jumping down from his snuggle spot, "I have a list right here…"

Greg held back a groan. Wisdom be damned. They were bloody clever, like Sherlock; thoughtful, like John; attentive to the Baker Street Brood, like Mrs. Hudson; and paid attention to detail, like Molly, Phillip, Sally, and Kieran.

But mostly, they planned ahead. WELL ahead, it seemed. He wasn't sure where they got their ability to have their ducks in a row, but he was oddly grateful for it. There had been times, Greg thought, when he was glad enough just to have the bloody birds in the same pond. Whether they were in a row or not was inconsequential at any given moment. Sometimes he just took what he got and was glad for it.

"It would seem you've got the situation in hand, then?" Greg inquired, with a grin. "Does Mummy know anything about this?"

"Oh NO, Daddy," Greer said solemnly. "But we'll make sure she isn't busy that day. Sometimes she ignores special days like that if they're only for her… why does she do that, Daddy?"

Greg smiled at his little girl, and said nothing for a moment. Finally, he conceded, "It's just her way, Little Love."

"Well, then, this is OUR way, Daddy," Scott said, with conviction. "If Mummy won't make it special for herself, then WE will."

Indeed, Greg thought. They most certainly would. His children wouldn't have it any other way.