Sadie: That’s a very good point. John would fight tooth and nail to keep that ‘tough guy’ exterior up around Mycroft…his is not a baby, should anyone need to be reminded. But, Sherlock *does* look awfully content to sit in his older brother’s lap. And Mycroft, while still being his normal stuffy, proper self, doesn’t sound as nearly condescending as he usually does. And John is starting to feel a bit left out.
“Don’t be vile, Mycroft.” Sherlock said, flopping back down next to John.
Mycroft pulled the nappy over John’s bits, taping it closed. He smiled to himself as he watched the tension drain from the little doctor’s chest. “Not vile, brother mine, pragmatic. And anyways spoon feeding two fussy little boys doesn’t sound like an enjoyable time.”
“We can feed our selfs!”
“Yes, just as you can change yourselves.”
Sherlock huffed and curled into John. The nappy change had left the little doctor subdued, which left it up to Sherlock to air their self righteous indignation.
“I was thinking chips.” Mycroft cut in before Sherlock could utter a peep.Sadie: Sherlock sat straight up as if on a loaded spring, knocking John aside. “Chips? You mean it?”
Mycroft had removed John’s trousers completely, leaving him in just a nappy and jumper for convenience (the fact that he looked incredibly adorable a fortunate, but unrelated, bonus), and now took his hands to help him sit up. “Careful, Sherlock…and yes, I meant it. Chips, fish, vinegar, and greasy newspaper; all of it. You only have to promise that you’ll finish most of it instead of poking at it.”
“John likes extra vinegar!” Sherlock wiggled in place, his sour mood forgotten.
“He doesn’t need nagging to get him to eat chips. He’ll eat his and mines and yours, if we let him.” John said, tugging ineffectually at his jumper to cover his nappy.
Mycroft merely hummed as he gingerly picked up the soiled nappies and went to throw them away in the bin in the kitchen. Sherlock hopped along behind him, dragging John by the hand.
“I need trousers and pants if we’re going to the chippy.” John grumbled.
Sadie: “Trousers, perhaps, but pants would only be redundant.” Mycroft stripped his gloves off with another snap that sent a shiver down Sherlock’s spine and caused him to clench John’s hand. “Those trousers were damp and smelt sour, but you’re welcome to put them back on if you’d like,” he added with a smirk. “Though, I wouldn’t hesitate to say we’d likely get faster service if you stayed as you are.”
Sherlock snorted while John’s face blushed from the top of his head down to the neckline of his jumper, and likely farther than that. “I’m NOT…! You wouldn’t…!” he sputtered.
Mycroft tossed the gloves in the bin. “Of course I wouldn’t, but it’s a highly amusing thought, isn’t it? You’re almost as high strung as Sherlock.”
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