Sophia Holmes and the Six Thatchers (Sherlock's Daughter Fanfiction) *Completed*

Chapter Three

We join Mrs Hudson and Molly at the baby's presentation the next morning where we take turns cradling baby Watson. Even dad doesn't grumble too much when John passes her over to him, and she even seems to cosy up to his jacket as dad watches her carefully. I smile as I watch him, realising how he must have looked cradling me. He's a natural.

After our drinks, Mrs Hudson ushers John and Mary onto their sofa to take a couple of photos, but it takes a few attempts before she gets it.

"Has that come out?" she asks, looking at the screen on her ten-year old camera before making an exasperated noise. "They never come out when I take them!"

Molly puts her glass aside and comes over, taking the camera. "Let's have a look."

"Aww. She's so beautiful," Mrs Hudson says, for what must be the seventh time this morning.

After a few seconds fiddling with the camera, Molly passes it back. "Have another go."

"What about a name?"

"Catherine," John says at once.

"Uh, yeah, we've gone off that," Mary quickly puts in, and I raise an eyebrow in amusement.

"Have we?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"Well, you know what I think," dad says, not looking up from his phone as he types out a message.

"It's not a girl's name," John and Mary say together, and dad smiles without raising his eyes. 

"Molly, Sophie, Mrs H," John says. "We would love you to be godparents." My eyes widen in shock as Molly and Mrs Hudson make appreciative noises, and John comes over. "Is that okay with you? You won't have to do a lot - it's a formality more than anything. We just thought you seemed to get on with her really well last night."

"It's...unexpected," I laugh nervously. "I can't say I know how to be a good maternal role model, but I'll do my best."

John claps me on the shoulder. "I know you will." He looks over to dad who's standing behind me. "And, uh ... you, too, Sherlock?"

"You too what?" dad replies, still typing.

"Godfather? We'd like you to be godfather."

"God is a ludicrous fiction dreamt up by inadequates who abnegate all responsibility to an invisible magic friend."

I roll my eyes and exchange a look with John, who steps closer. "Yeah, but there'll be cake," he says, employing the same tactic as last night. Obviously something happened involving cake when I was away. "Will you do it?"

Dad glances up at him briefly. "I'll get back to you."

John, taking that as a good an answer as he's likely to get, nods resignedly and heads back towards the sofa. 

"Do I have godparents?" I ask him as he resumes typing. "I know you and mum don't really go in for that kind of thing, but I know what Grandma is like about the church."

"Mmm? No, you were never Christened. Of course, after what happened ... happened, Mycroft took on a kind of Godparent role anyway so there was never any need."

"Fair enough," I say, raising my eyebrow. Though why he'd think Mycroft was a more suitable guardian than my grandparents, I don't know. Sure, his own upbringing wasn't ideal, but as the family managed to produce two geniuses, they couldn't have been that bad.