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.
“No!” John stomped his foot for emphasis. “G’een in mines! Gimme it!” John made to grab the crayon but found himself being lifted and plopped on his bottom.
“Jawn has enough green crayons. If he needs the one that Sherlock is using, he can trade one of his other green crayons for it.” Mycroft said, hoping to head off a wobbler. Years of diplomatic work was no match for dealing with two whingy toddlers.
“Nonononono!” John’s heels thumping on the floor. “Is my g’een c’ayons!”
“What are you going to draw, Jawn?” Mycroft sat on the sofa and pulled a sheet of paper from the stack.
“A Hulk.” John sulked.
“My co’ders?” Sherlock nudged the crayon tub closer to his older brother, but keeping his green crayon cradled to his chest.
“We can put your pit’cher on our f’idge, too.” John kept his green crayons in his lap, fiddling with them, but his attention had turned back to the film, the final fight sequence playing on the screen.
“Perhaps. What should I draw?”
Sadie:
“Gol’fish,” Sherlock said, wrinkling his nose the same way he had earlier.
“That was cute exactly once,” Mycroft replied (although he could possibly be coerced into saying it was cute this time, too) and reached out to pinch the little detective’s cheek, making him squeal and fall to the side. “Besides, I thought that’s what you were drawing.”
“Uh-huh!” Sherlock sat up and dug into the pile of crayons again, swishing his hands around to make them rattle and clack against one another.
“That’s a bit unnecessary, lad.” Mycroft took his little brother’s wrist and held it still after noticing the annoyed look John had shot them. Seems that someone was still a mite touchy about missing a green crayon. “So, how do they calm the Hulk down after a fight? Does he stay green forever?” he asked, and picked out a brown crayon for himself, then a red one.
“Singin’” John mumbled, his eyes fixed on the screen.
“Music can be very soothing.” Mycroft began to sketch out his drawing. “Do they say what song?”
“No, jus a lullaby.”
Sherlock tugged on his brothers sleeve. “My’coff! This one is g’een! Hulk fish! Look, My’coff!” Sherlock wiggled in place, immensely pleased by the scribbled green fish on his paper.
“That’s lovely. Can you draw some more fish? They like to live in big groups called schools.”
“Sc’oo’s.” Sherlock nodded seriously as he began to draw more fish in neon orange.
“Do you know lots of songs?”
“Quite a few. Mummy doesn’t have much of a singing voice, but she loved to sing when we were small.”
“Ouch! My ears!” Sherlock giggled over his own joke, ignoring the pointed look Mycroft sent him.
“I only know a few. I keep trying to learn more a’cause it helps Sherlock sleep.
Sadie:
Mycroft smiled to himself. “It always did. I mostly hum, myself…Sherlock’s awfully lucky he has someone who can carry a tune now.”
John blushed and looked down at his page, where he’d barely done a few lines of colour, but it was obvious he was a very proud little man at that point. “Not that good,” he muttered, trying to pass it off as no big deal.
“Uh-HUH!” Sherlock protested. “I y’ike it when Jawn sing!”
“Well, if Sherlock said it, it must be true.” Mycroft finished the darker outline of his big, chocolate cake and started shading in the frosting, saving the big cherries on top for last; he knew both boys would get a kick out of it and would make cake-jokes for ages after, but he found that he didn’t mind the thought.
“Jawn sing now?”
John looked up, surprised, and saw Sherlock watching him from across the table with those big, bright eyes of his, orange crayon still poised above his picture. John glanced at Mycroft out of the corner of his eye and quickly shook his head; “No, not now.”
Sherlock’s face fell into one of genuine disappointment. “P’ease?! Jawn sing?!”
“Uh-uh.”
Sherlock’s bottom lip stuck out, and just when Mycroft thought he was in for another squall of a tantrum, his little brother surprised both of them by putting his green crayon on the table and pushing it over to John. “…P’ease?”
Sadie & Mo's Boutique 