"Really?" Molly asked, looking around. "This was their surprise?"
"Would seem so," Greg replied, his smile slowly growing larger. "Bailey is with Mary and John according to the note, Rosie must be delighted…"
The Lestrades glanced around their flat, surrounded by candles and the tantalizing aroma of dinner on the go, accompanied by a note requesting that they be discreet in their activities and locales when the timers were set to go off, at which point John and Mary, with Sherlock tagging along for backup, would arrive to deal with the finishing touches. Mrs. Hudson, they were assured, would be happily minding both Rosie and Bailey.
"So, they mean to cook us a meal, mind our daughter, show up with adequate warning, then leave us to our own devices… nothing elaborate… Gregory, this is…"
"Perfect," he murmured, as he turned to gaze down at his wife.
"Yes," she giggled softly. "And to think we didn't trust them. Well I didn't trust them."
"I didn't either, not entirely at least," Greg admitted, as he observed a note to turn on their compact stereo system. Noting the flash drive in the port, he rose an eyebrow, before shrugging his shoulders and just rolling with it.
"That's our song," Molly said, as she approached her husband. "They've thought of everything, haven't they? So blissful…"