"I talked to Mary today," Molly said casually, as she and Greg prepared dinner together in their kitchen.
"Oh? Rosie's first birthday, I gather?"
"Yes. John wants it low-key, but Sherlock has really settled into the godfather thing. He's plenty of grandiose plans. You should see him darling," Molly laughed. "You'd think Rosie were HIS, the way he's taken to her. I didn't think that was even possible."
Greg smiled as he chopped vegetables, stirring sauce. "It's possible," he replied, simply. "Remember, I've known him longer than anyone. Sherlock Holmes is a man of great indifference to things and people who mean little to him. But to those who mean everything, he gives his heart completely."
"And his life," Molly replied, reflectively, thinking of Sherlock's two year self-imposed exile. "Rosie is special. John and Mary chose him, though if they'd been able, you would be her godfather as well."
Greg said nothing for several moments to this, before finally saying, "That would have been an honour."
"What would you think of our own baby then, darling?" Molly's tone seemed cautious and tentative.
Greg caught his breath. Hesitating only a few heartbeats, he finally replied, "I'd be agreeable."
Molly sighed in relief. "Agreeable, you say?"
"Yes. Absolutely. Why, Molly?" he grinned broadly, taking her in his arms. "Have we a little bun?"
