How would Mycroft end up babysitting to begin with? I feel like he’d want to interact with Sherlock when he’s small because it’d let them both be as affectionate as they want without their usual reservations. Jawn would be incredulous at best about My. At least at first.

squeakpigsrevenge:

sadieandmo:

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.

Jawn gave him a beatific grin, the sauce on his eyelashes smudging against his cheeks. “I can have more, My’coff?” Jawn held his empty plate for Mycroft to see.
“Perhaps you should have eaten what you were given instead of turning yourself into a walking tomato.” Though, Mycroft noted, there wasn’t a piece of pasta in sight.
“‘Mato?” Jawn stared at his arm critically before licking some of the sauce off. “I’m a’licious!”
“My’coff? More?” Sherlock held his mouth open.
“Yes, alright.” Mycroft scooped a bite into his baby brother mouth before getting up to refill Jawn’s plate, holding it in front of himself with only two fingers.
“Jawn ate his salad as well?”
Jawn frowned down at the drawing he was making in the sauce on his shirt. “I eated the carrots. Y’abbits y’ike it.”
“What happened to the lettuce?”

Sadie:

Jawn turned in his seat to face Mycroft (further smearing red sauce all over the back of the chair…well, that was something that they were going to have to take care of while they were big, not him. Babysitter, begrudgingly…housekeeper, no) and peered up at him as he shrugged innocently.

“I saw!” Sherlock sat up on his knees and leaned over the table, eager to tell his brother what–

“Ah-ah, I was asking Jawn. You sit and eat.”

The excitement wilted from the little detective’s face and he sat back down, pouting over his plate…it wasn’t the same when Mycroft didn’t do it.

Mycroft turned his attention back to the matter at hand…the sauce-covered matter that looked as if he were starting to gum up already. “What happened to the lettuce, Jawn?”

Jawn blinked up at him, but the angelic affect he was hoping to achieve wasn’t quite as effective when he was coated in rapidly drying tomato paste.

“Jawn. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Jawn lifted his hand and started to suck his fingers. “Ummm,” he hummed, “…y’abbits eated?”

“The rabbits.”

“Y’ah!”

“The rabbits on your bib.”

“Uh-huh!”

“They ate it.”

Jawn nodded quickly.

“…I find that hard to believe, little boy.”