Mary Morstan left John's flat smiling the morning after their third date, turning down an offer of pancakes with a counter-offer of lunch the next day. John, quite content with this arrangement, made pancakes for himself, anyway and settled in to consider whether he thought this one might last. After dumping his plate in the sink, he found he had reached a conclusion which warranted the sending of a text.

John: I've met someone. You can stop trying to set me up, now.

Hermione: Good for you! Bring her to Miri's party this weekend.

…

John helped Mary from the taxi rather gallantly and surveyed the park, looking for the little girl's birthday party they were meant to be attending. He spotted it almost at once – between the plethora of redheads, half a dozen or more young children running about excitedly, and the familiar sound of Hermione giving orders to the man who was delivering a cake, there was really no mistaking them. He groaned when he realized Mycroft was there, and a much older woman, who must be Violet Holmes.

"Don't worry, John," Mary said, leaning into his side. "I'm sure it will be fine."

He grinned. "That transparent, am I?"

He loved the way her eyes sparkled as she gave him a crooked little smile. "It's not a bad thing."

He introduced Mary to the adults – Harry and Ginny Potter were there, of course, and Fred and George Weasley, who he still couldn't tell apart, despite having met them on at least two prior occasions, along with Mycroft and the woman who was indeed Sherlock's 'Mummy' – as well as to the two-year-old birthday girl.

"Hello, Miss Morstan," the little girl said solemnly, holding out a hand to be shaken.

Mary, to her credit, had returned the birthday girl's greeting with equal seriousness, and waited until she had run off to play with the Potter children (and their friends? He had no idea who the other children belonged to, and no one had thought to introduce them) before she commented on how adult the child acted.

Hermione threw an exasperated look after her daughter, toddling after a red-headed girl, as Mycroft pointed out that the girl took after her mother.

"Some days I wonder if that's a good thing," the mother in question muttered, watching the child give up on keeping up with the older children, settling to watch them and play with some flowers instead.

"It is, love," Violet said with the knowing smile all women with adult children seemed to share. "Just watch, she's going to grow up faster than you know."

As Violet commiserated with Hermione and Ginny about the difficulties of raising small children, John watched Mary watching the kiddies. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, feeling her stiffen at the unexpected contact, then relax as she recognized him. He rested his head on her shoulder and murmured, "You want to have kids someday?"

It wasn't really a question. He had seen the longing in her eyes as she watched the little boys falling over themselves and each other, or Miri demanding to sit on Mycroft's perfectly tailored lap. She answered anyway, and her voice was inexplicably sad when she said, "Someday. You?"

John was taken aback. He'd never given the idea of kids much thought, a fact which Hermione had teased him about several times over the nearly two years she had known him. None of his relationships had ever reached a point where it was relevant before, but she hadn't been wrong when she told him at their first meeting that he wasn't necessarily against the idea. He hesitated, then said, firmly, "Yes. Definitely."

After all, taking care of a kid couldn't possibly be any harder than living with Sherlock, and the light in Mary's eyes when she turned and kissed him made any wariness he felt at the idea of fatherhood more than worth it.

He chatted with Harry and watched, pleased and somewhat proud, as his bonny girl joined the other women, laughing and socializing, charming the lot of them. He hadn't realized, before, how worried he had been that the few people he considered close friends would not accept her. It was a relief, watching her dance with the Potters' oldest boy, bantering and laughing with Hermione and the twins, or teaching Miri how to make flower chains.

For the first time in a long time, John realized, he was happy, and not even Mycroft's subtle offer to do a background check on his girlfriend (which John refused with a glare at the older man) could bring him down. Not today.