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.
“Bee’, bee’, bee’,” Sherlock chanted back, reaching up to poke at Jawn’s nose causing the little Doctor to fall over in a giggle fit. They laid on the carpet poking at each others faces.
“Is there paracetamol in this flat?” Mycroft asked, not really expecting an answer. The beeping was steadily growing in volume.
“Baf’room!” Jawn chirped, leaning in to lick Sherlock’s nose instead of poke it. “Boop.”
Sherlock froze in place, hand inches from Jawn’s nose as he processed his damp nose. Sensing the impending doom, and unwilling to leave them on their own again after the last time, Mycroft came into the sitting room and pulled them to their feet.
“I’ll never be able to find it on my own. I need the world’s greatest detective’s to find it for me.” Mycroft tried to usher them toward the bathroom, but it was like wrangling cats. Jawn squirmed around him and made to the stairS
“Sher’yock needs his hat!”
“Nooooooo hat!” Sherlock cried, covering his head with his hands.
Sadie:
“Sherlock does not need his hat, and Jawn does not need to climb those stairs!…JAWN.”
The little doctor froze, one foot already on the bottom step, and looked at Mycroft over his shoulder.
“Neither of you are allowed on the steps while you’re little.”
“But–“
“I said no.”
Jawn took a step back, and stomped his foot. “But My! He needs it!”
Mycroft looked down at Sherlock, who still had his fingers locked together over his head. “He doesn’t want it.”
Jawn’s face began to grow red, and he stomped both feet until he’d turned in a complete circle. “But MY!”
Sherlock clutched the back of his brother’s waistcoat in a tight fist and watched the goings’on while quietly sucking his thumb, not wanting to draw attention on himself. Mycroft sighed, and rubbed his temple. This one was going to be a doozey. “Jawn, one more time, and I will spank your bum.” Hell, Sherlock had already earned two on his own, why not go for a three-fur?! Still…Mycroft held out his hand; “Come on, Jawn…help us look.”
Jawn stared at Mycroft’s outstretched hand for a moment before puffing his chest and turning to take the stairs two at a time.
“JAWN HAMISH! You stop this instant!” Mycroft shouted, untangling Sherlock’s grip on his waist coat to hurry after the little piss pot. “Stay here, Sherlock.”
Sherlock nodded slowly, his eyes large and wet.
Mycroft, having the advantage of stork like legs, caught the little doctor by the arm before he turned the corner on the second landing. Jawn let out a banshee wail and proceeded to go limp, hanging from Mycroft’s grip like a rag doll.
“Oh no. I think not!” Mycroft growled, hefting Jawn up and over his shoulder in one fluid motion, causing the wailing little doctor to shriek again. A sharp swat to the back of his leg cut him off.
“OWWWW, MY! You can’t do that! You’re not my Da’.” Jawn whinged, struggling to get out of Mycroft’s vice like grip.
“Little boy,” Mycroft punctuated each word with another swat as he carefully made his way back up the stairs. “You are about to learn where your “Da’” learned all his meanest techniques.”
Sadie:
Sherlock stood at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes like saucers as he watched Mycroft haul Jawn down, smacking him the entire way while the little doctor squealed like a trapped animal and tried to kick out at anything in his path. When his older brother breezed past, Sherlock unglued himself from the bannister and scurried along after. “My?” he asked worriedly. “My, what doing? My? My’coff?”
“Jawn is eager to join the ‘Sore Bottom’ Club,” Mycroft muttered, ignoring the hands pounding at his back. He waltzed into the kitchen and used his foot to hook one of the chair legs and turned it around, facing away from the table, and sat down heavily. With as much grace as a Russian-trained dancer, Mycroft slid Jawn off of his shoulder and laid him flat across his lap, where he noted that this was going to be much easier than disciplining his long-limbed little brother. “And Sherlock needs to go watch the rest of his dinosaur movie, please.”
Jawn, who had not once let up on making his displeasure of the whole circumstance known, now kicked it into high gear…it was getting more real by the moment. “I didn’ do annnnnnnnnythiiiiiiiiing!” he screeched, red-faced, and pounded his fists against Mycroft’s thigh. When that didn’t work, he bit him, with all of the impotent rage a giant toddler could muster.
“Aw!” Mycroft hissed as he dropped several heavy swats on the backs on Jawns thighs. The little doctor immediately released his hold on Mycroft’s leg to wail. “Do you know what happens to little boys who bite, Jawn?” Mycroft asked, while undoing the snaps that ran along the crotch and inseam of Jawn’s onesie.”They get their very naughty little mouths soaped. What a wonderful thing to look forward too!” Mycroft snarked, pulling Jawn’s onesie up his back and using it as leverage.
“My?” Sherlock stood beside Mycroft, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Gotsa’ be nice a’ my Jawn,” he said, nearly to quietly to be heard over the racket Jawn himself was making.
“Enforcing the rules is kindness.”
“My’coff…” Sherlock tugged on his sleeve, “p’ease, My’coff, no ‘pank Jawn?”
Mycroft had untaped Jawn’s nappy and let the dry bit of fluff hit the floor. He put a large hand on the curve of Jawn’s bottom that stilled him completely.
“Sherlock,” Mycroft said softly, but firmly, “go finish your dinosaur movie.”
The little dectective sniffled pitifully, “bye, jawn.” he whispered as he walked very slowly back into the sitting room.
Sadie:
The little doctor’s thighs were already covered in handprints and burning terribly, and the spanking hadn’t even begun yet. He craned his neck to peer over his shoulder, sniffling pitifully now that all his protection and bluster were gone. “My’coff? I’m sorry, I’m really, really, really sorry!” he pleaded.
“While that’s good to hear, I highly doubt it’s the truth at the moment.” Mycroft brought his hand back and slapped it down with a crisp SMACK! against Jawn’s backside, eliciting a howl from him. Mycroft paused for a moment and shook out his hand; after two spankings and an uncountable numbers of random swats, he was feeling as much as Jawn and Sherlock were. Not to mention the little doctor’s bum was more muscled than his little partner in crimes’. But, back to the task at hand, so to speak. “You’ve been testing my limits all day, little boy…you would think seeing it happen to Sherlock twice wold have been enough of a hindrance, but nooooo!…” he scolded, swatting all over the little gremlin’s bouncing bottom.
If Mycroft had thought Sherlock was a little drama queen, then Jawn really took the cake! He kicked and howled and blubbered like a man on fire, and not for the first time, the older man found himself thanking several different deities that he had nearly a foot of leverage over the compact little piston in his lap.
Mycroft proceeded to turn Jawn’s bum a uniform shade of scarlet. The squalling little imp quickly wore himself out, going limp over Mycroft’s lap, babbling nonsense. While it was likely apologies and begging, Mycroft could swear the little Doctor was placing a complicated curse on him.
Pausing to rub his own stinging palm against his trousers, “Jawn. What was this spanking for?”
“Ba’ ba’ ba’…”
“No. Jawn is not bad. However, Jawn has had very naughty behavior.”
“B’hav’r.”
“Exactly.” Mycroft added a swat to Jawn’s sit spot. It wouldn’t do to leave this lesson half learned. “Jawn will use his listening ears from now on. When Mycroft says ‘no’ he means ‘no’.”
“B..bbb’hav’r.” Jawn sniffled, using a small fist the scrub at his eyes.
“Yes, Jawn will have better behavior. Are we going to need to do this again?”
“Noooooooooooo, good! Be good! P’mise!”
Sadie:
Mycroft almost felt sorry for him…
Almost. Until he remembered the bite.
“And that goes double if you bite me ever again, young man,” he fussed, and swatted him twice more, right under the swell of each cheek. Jawn let out a singular, mournful wail, and hung his head, sobbing.
But, Mycroft was not a completely heartless man…just a dutiful one when it came to necessary measures. He sat and rubbed Jawn’s back (and his bum, just a bit) while he let him cry it out, and waited until the little doctor had regained a bit of composure before helping him sit up and straddle his lap. He held Jawn steady around the waist, and asked him; “…Are we done with the defiant attitude today?”
Jawn was quite the wreck; all red eyes and ruddy cheeks, face covered in tears, nose running…heartbroken. “Y-yeah,” he sputtered, wiping at his face with the backs of his hands. “P-p’om, p’om-mise.”
“Good boy.” Mycroft kissed one of the only dry spots on the little boys’ face, on his forehead, and wrapped him in a huge hug.
Now that 95% of the noise had been cut out, Mycroft heard the slight creak of the floorboards and didn’t have to look up to know exactly what it was. “Alright,” he sighed. “You too…come here.”
Sherlock hurried over, his own cheeks tearstained, and crowded in on Jawns’ other side, surrounding him in snuggles.
Mycroft really, really needed that paracetamol now.
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