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.”
“More so.” Sherlock said, giving John a loud smooch on top of his sandy head. “I don’t know how many times I have to say, ‘John is a cry baby,’ before people listen to me.”
“Do you need to sit on the naughty step?”
John, who’d been waffling between chewing his thumb and pulling down his jumper (because God forbid he let go of Sherlock’s hand) looked up in alarm, “no, thank you.”
“So polite. But I was speaking to Sherlock. If you can’t be kind, baby brother, than you will sit on the stairs by your lonesome while John and I get ready to go out.”Sadie:
D: “But, but…! You teased him, too!”
“Yes,I teased him, and then I stopped when I saw him getting upset. There’s a difference between playful teasing and being meanspirited. You should know. Apologize to Jawn, please.”
Sherlock’s face began to scrunch up. “But I…I didn’t do anythin’ wrong! He knows I don’t mean it!”
“I don’t think he does, Sherlock. Not when he’s little. If you can’t apologize, then go sit on the step until I tell you to get up.” Mycroft reached for John’s unoccupied hand. “Come along, little one…Sherlock needs some along time.”
“I can’t stay with Sherlock?” John asked, staring down at where his and Sherlock’s hands were joined.
“You need trousers, remember? And Sherlock needs to sit on the step.”
“Oh.”
Sherlock scowled murderously at Mycroft. He squeezed John’s hand before letting go and stomping out onto the landing to sit on the step.
“What trousers would you like to wear?” Mycroft asked, herding the little doctor back to the nursery.
“Green.” John watched Mycroft rifle through the cupboard, pulling out a pair of dark green trousers. “I should sit on the step with Sherlock so he’s not lonely. He’s always lonely without me.”Sadie: “He can stand to be a little lonely right now…hands on my shoulders; step in,” Mycroft replied, bending down and holding the trousers out.
John obeyed and held onto the man’s shoulders to steady himself, but turned his head to look back into the hallway. “But he–”
“ ‘But he’ is in time-out, and during time-out, you aren’t allowed to have to have company.” Mycroft pulled John’s trousers up and over his nappy, discovering once they were buttoned and zipped that they fitted rather snugly across the bum. “Can you get your shoes and socks on like a big boy?”
John nodded slowly, he could be a big boy. He pulled a pair of purple socks out of the cupboard and then dropped to his belly to dig under the bed for his shoes.
Mycroft left John to it and walked down the hallway and leaned on the doorframe to the landing. Sherlock sniffled pitifully and made a show of not looking at his big brother.
“Are you ready to apologize?”
Sherlock merely huffed a put upon sigh in response. Mycroft rolled his eyes and settled on the step next to Sherlock. Despite himself, the little detective leaned into his big brother. They say that way for several moments, listening to John struggle with his lace ups in the nursery.
Sadie: “Stubborn little thing you are, always have been.” Mycroft used a finger to lift Sherlock’s chin up. “Jawn’s more than ready to forgive, but you have to be willing to say you’re sorry first.”
Sherlock pouted up at him.
“No, that’s not going to work. You can apologize and come with us, or you can stay here with Nana while Jawn and I go.”
Sherlock pulled away from his brother. “I don’t need to stay with Nana…I can stay by myself!”
“You are far too little–”
“No I’m not!”
“Then why are you in near tears after being sat on the naughty step?”
“I’m not crying! You’re mean!” Sherlock shouted, working himself into hysterics. “I’m very big and I can do things by my own self!”
“Settle down, Sherlock.”
“No! You’re not the boss of me, Myc!”
“Sherlock?” John said quietly from the doorway, one shoe on the wrong foot, the other in his hand.
Sherlock stared at him, breathing hard as his tantrum winded down. John crossed the landing and wedged himself onto Sherlock’s lap, burying his face in Sherlock’s shoulder. “Don’t be upset. I’ll find your shoes, too.”
Sherlock huffed a laugh and wrapped long arms around his little friend. Even when he was mean, John always tried to help him.
Sadie: Mycroft stood, smiling faintly. “Sherlock…don’t you have something to say?”
Sherlock cringed and buried his face in John’s jumper. “….”
“Say it again, where we can hear you.”
A single red-rimmed eye made an appearance, followed by a nose and half a mouth. “…’m sorry,” he mumbled.
“For…?”
He sighed. “For calling Jawn a crybaby…even though he is.”
“Sherlock.”
The little detective reached up and twisted one of his curls around his finger, then tugged on it. “Really sorry…I don’t mind when Jawn cries,” he admitted, his brow furrowing in the middle.
“I mind, an awful lot actually,” John said with a sigh.
“Little boys cry, Jawn. I’m sorry I made you think it wasn’t okay.”
John patted Sherlock’s cheek gently before handing his shoe to Mycroft. “Help?
“There have been far to many saccharine moments this morning.” Mycroft said, mostly to himself.
“Sherlock, go get your shoes. I’d like to leave before another outbreak of histrionics occurs.” Mycroft guided John to sit on the fifth step up and took his foot in hand, stripping it of the wrong shoe and replacing it deftly.
Sherlock disappeared into the nursery and was back moments later, shoes on the correct feet. He bounced on his heels. “Can I have two orders of chips?”
“And an ice cream cone?” John peeped as Mycroft helped him off the steps and into his jacket.
Sadie: “I don’t know if either of you have been good enough for ice cream…getting chips is stretching it.” Mycroft was met with a chorus of ‘aw’s and whinging and ‘how come?!’s, and he ignored them. “We’ll have to see how well you behave in public,” he said, having to raise his voice. “But if I have to say one word, we are turning right back around with no chips or ice cream, and you’ll both be taking naps until you can compose yourselves. Is that clear?” He looked down his nose at the two of them as he adjusted his cuffs.
John and Sherlock nodded with the energy of a bobblehead. “We’ll be good!” Sherlock said. “Promise!” John echoed.
“I hope so…there are plenty of empty corners and naughty steps out there, too.” Mycroft adjusted the collar of his coat and made sure to grab his umbrella. “I want you to hold each other’s hand while we’re out, and you’ll both stay where I can see you. If i have to look for you, nothing good will come of it.”
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