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Sherlock couldn't believe what was happening. Despite all of the possible complications and his worst fears, the baby arrived safely. A perfect score of ten Apgar, ten fingers, ten toes. Breathing on his own, opening his eyes, moving his tiny hands in search of Molly. To Sherlock's surprise, the boy didn't have a sign on his forehead saying 'my father used drugs.' His heart rate was normal, he weighed a healthy seven pounds and already used two nappies.
Molly and the baby were still in hospital. Visitors could wait. The first day of baby Holmes' life was too precious to share it with others. Molly only could bear the thought of letting Sherlock hold the baby. Everyone else, including his parents, would certainly drop the child or sneeze in his face.
Sherlock cradled his son in his arms and just watched him in joyful amazement. 'This is incredible. Well done, Molly.'
'I had a bit of help,' she smiled tiredly, gazing at the baby, just as astonished by his utter perfection as Sherlock.
The baby yawned and touched his face. Eyes closed, a little grimace from time to time, first quiet sounds. And something that could be interpreted as the first smile, against logic.
'Are you sure this is our child? He seems completely fine. I've expected the worst.'
'Yes, I'm sure,' Molly sighed. It was only the third time she was asked that question.
'Sherlock Jr,' Sherlock announced proudly, hoping Molly would finally accept his absolutely brilliant name suggestion.
'No. Also, the following names are unusable: William, Gavin, Mort, Richard and James.'
Sherlock wanted to negotiate, but the events of the previous night convinced him not to insist on names that Molly didn't like.
'Would you like to name him after your father?'
A sad smile on Molly's face was enough to know the answer.
'How about Michael? We could call him Mick or Mickey. Mycroft would be furious. He secretly loves his silly nicknames.'
'No.'
'John?'
'Listen, it doesn't have to a traditional name. Place names and word names are popular these days. We could name him after something that has a great significance to us...' Molly trailed off and the both of them fell silent. They had the same idea and even before they said it out loud, they knew it was the name.
'Bartholomew,' they whispered simultaneously. Sherlock already pictured bringing the baby to Bart's so Molly could nurse him and people asking about the baby's name. Oh, it was perfect.
'Oh, my God,' Molly started laughing. 'I carried this child for nine months only to name him Bartholomew.'
'Let's discuss the middle name now. Hamish?'