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.
“I thought you didn’t want to watch a pirate film?” Mycroft pulled the heroes cup and a bottle from the cabinet and stepped back over Sherlock to get to the fridge.
“What? No. He’s an army Captain.” John fiddled with his dummy, rubbing it on his mouth.
“‘Ron man!” Sherlock slurred behind his dummy, reaching for the now full hero sip cup. Mycroft handed him the bottle instead. The little detective immediately dropped it onto the floor and continued to reach for the hero cup, grunting in frustration.
“Sherlock needs a nappy change before we start the film, does Jawn need changed too?” The little doctors face and ears turned three shades of red. Mycroft didn’t bother waiting for a response and instead tugged John close by the top of his trousers and checked the state of John’s nappy for himself. “You need changed as well. Come along lads.”
Sherlock immediately started to crawl down the hall after Mycroft. John dawdled in the kitchen. “Jawn, we don’t have to change your name to Captain Jawn Wet Pants,” Mycroft called out.
Shoving his dummy into his mouth, Jawn headed back to the bedroom to be changed.
Sadie: “So, this makes change number three…how many nappies do you go through in day?” Mycroft asked as they entered the nursery, Sherlock hot on his heels. He patted the bed and told the little detective to “Climb up,” then turned towards the dresser and started opening drawers.
John sauntered in after them…he was resigned to the fact of Mycroft changing him by now, but that didn’t mean he had to like it one bit. “ ‘unno,” he mumbled, then stopped staring at his feet long enough to notice what My was up to. “Wha’ doin’?
“We’re not leaving the flat for the rest of the day…at least not for a good, long while, so you’re both getting changed into something more appropriate.” Mycroft held up a pale yellow and white-striped onesie…he turned it around and along the backside were green ruffles, apparently made to look like grass, with embroidered flowers off all sorts of colours ‘growing’ from it, and of course, bees flitting among them.
“I don’t wan’ different clothes!” John protested, letting his dummy fall from his mouth and bounce on the floor.
“You don’t? Hm, there are an awful lot of cute, very comfortable-looking ones in here…and it would make it easier for me to see when you need a change.” Mycroft turned back to the bed, where Sherlock was laying on his back, playing with one of his feet. “What if Jawn gets to pick his own clothes out…would you like it better then?”
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