Sadie:
(
Sorry to have to split it up like this guys, but the other one was so big that I was having issues replying. I would be typing for 5 minutes and the text one the screen would still be on the first sentence.It was driving me nuts.)Here’s the link to the majority of the rp (warning: massive post)
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“NOOOOOOOOOO!”
Mycroft actively ignored his little brother and turned to Jawn. “Here, give me that,” he said, reaching for the dirty flannel, “and go wash your hands.”
“Then ge’d a pry’ze?”
“Yes, then you get a prize.”
“MYYYYYYYYYYYYCCCCCCCCCCC!”
Jawn covered his ears with his wet, sudsy hands.
“Wonderful.” So much for ignoring poor behavior. Mycroft’s hands went to his hips and leaned over the big, screechy, weepy puddle that was Sherlock. “That is enough,” he said firmly.
“MYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY–!”
“That. Is. ENOUGH!”
Sherlock froze completely, cutting himself off mid-wail. He lifted his head and stared up at his brother, his eyes wide as saucers.
“Thank you,” Mycroft said, back to his regular tone of voice.
Sherlock continued to stare up his brother and sniffle, his chest hitching. He put a nervous finger to his mouth and began to worry with it, unsure of what was happening next.
“Jawn?”
“Y’ah?”
“Finish washing your hands, please,” Mycroft said, then bent down to help a reluctant Sherlock to his feet; “…then pick a prize and join us.”
Jawn stuck his hands back under the tap for a quick rinse. “Where you goin’?
“To pick out a story for bedtime.”
“Sher’yock turn a’ pick the story?”
“It’s my turn actually.”
“My’coff turn?” Jawn giggled, drying his hands by wiping them on the front of his jams.
“My, My, My, My!” Sherlock cried, wrapping himself around his older brother like a sniveling little barnacle. Mycroft rolled his eyes and scooped the little detective up and headed for the nursery. “Quickly, Jawn.”
“Qui’k y’ike bunny!” Jawn chirped, both hands buried in the prize bucket.
“Precisely,” Mycroft called over his shoulder as he entered the dark nursery. He tried to set Sherlock down on the cot but the baby wailed and clung tighter. “Oh, for heavens sake!” He propped sherlock’s bum against the bed and strained to flip on the bedside lamp.
“My’coff, I pick one!”
“Good boy, come into the nursery.”
“I foun’ a dinosaur to be fren’s wi’f Jeffrey!”Sadie:
“That’s wonderful. Bring them with you.”
Mycroft heard Jawn’s feet thudding through the flat and shook his head…Mrs. Hudson simply had to have ear plugs.
Either that, or she had gone a bit deaf and wasn’t telling anybody.
Jawn bounded into the room and, before Mycroft could say “No!”, took a flying leap onto the cot next to Sherlock.
…The entire floor of this flat was just going to cave in one day; he’d be willing to bet money on it.
“Look’id, Sher’yock!” Jawn babbled excitedly as he showed off his new plastic-moulded friend. “He’s a shar’b tooth!”
Sherlock sniffled around his thumb, and released his grip on his brother’s sleeve.
“A shark tooth?”
“A SHAR’B TOOTH!”
“There’s no need to shout.” Now that his little brother was sufficiently distracted, Mycroft walked over to the bookshelf at the opposite side of the room, and began to look for a book. A particular book.
“Bu’d you didn’t hear me a’firs time!”
“I heard you loud and clear.” Ah, there it was. Mycroft pulled the slim book from the shelf and looked at the cover; ‘The Tale of Peter Rabbit’.
“Bu’d you say a’ wrong thing.”
“I did. Are there dummies stashed in here somewhere?” Mycroft gave Sherlock a meaningful glance before pulling open the night stand drawer.
“Shar’b tooth’s are very good dinosaurs.”
“Yes. Though you didn’t seem to care for the one in the film earlier.”
“This one is nicer than tha’d one.”
Mycroft rooted through the toys and half empty tubes of nappy creme until he came up with two dummies. “You two need to hunt all of these down and put them in a basket someplace safe.”
Sherlock popped his thumb out of his mouth and made grabby hands at the dummies, “Mmmmmmmyyyyyyyyyy.”
“They need rinsed. I’ll be right back.”
The second Mycroft stepped toward the bathroom door, Sherlock began to wail.
“For fucks sake!” Mycroft popped one of the dummies in his mouth, giving it a quick suck to remove any lint and popped it into Sherlock’s mouth.Sadie:
Sherlock instantly quieted down and stared up at his brother, eyes wide and teary. His fingers went to the dummy in his mouth, gently patting it as if to make sure it was really there.
“Um, My’coff?”
Mycroft sighed. “I have one for you too, don’t worry.”
Jawn reached back and rubbed the back of his head, mussing up his hair.
“Tha’d, um, tha’d word you say’ed, um, you say’ed a ba’ word.”
Mycroft hesitated and glanced at Jawn out of the corner of his eye. “What word?”
“The word you say’ed.”
Mycroft was perplexed. He genuinely couldn’t remember what he’d said. “What did I say?”
Jawn fiddled with his new dino friend nervously. “Um, you won’d…you won’d yell a’d me?”
Mycroft pinched the bridge of his nose. “I promise, I won’t yell at you.” What could he have possibly said??
“You say’ed, um…” Jawn bit his lip. “Um, you sayed–”
“Sometime tonight, darling.”
“You say’ed, uh, ‘fuck’.”
Mycroft looked down at Jawn.
Jawn looked back up at Mycroft.
“…You’re right. That is a bad word.”
“Fu’g?” Sherlock garbled around his dummy, grinning like the cat who’d swallowed the canary when Jawn hid his face in a blankie to giggle. “Fu’g!”
“That’s enough.”
“Ffffffffuuuuu’g.”
Jawn was hyperventilating into his blanket.
“Am I going to rinse Jawn’s dummy or fetch a bar of soap? Hmmm?” Mycroft said as he headed to the bathroom.
Both little boys cackled as Sherlock whispered “fu’g” after Mycroft’s back.
“Charming.” He ran Jawn’s dummy under the faucet, taking a moment to collect himself. When he walked back into the nursery he found them quiet and wrapped around each other, Jawn sucking on Sherlock’s dummy.Sadie:
Sherlock looked up at his brother as he walked in, and smiled. Mycroft could still see faint traces of his tears in the lamplight. “Myyyyyyyyy,” he cooed, and reached for him.
“…You’re only this cute when you know I’m not happy.”
Fingers that seemed longer than they should in the half-dark started grasping for him. “My?
Mycroft side-eyed his little bother…*ahem*, brother, and finally gave a small sigh before joining the boys at their cot. “I should gather my things and leave you both here in the dark,” he said, albeit half-heartedly, and slipped the clean dummy into Sherlock’s mouth. “With no story,” he added.
“Noooooooooo,” they both chimed in unison, and Jawn sat up; “We’re sor’ree.”
Sherlock patted his brother’s hand. “Th’orree, b’ery th’orree.”
Mycroft knew they were both laying it on, and thickly, because they were both stalling bedtime…but it was awfully cute.
But he wouldn’t tell them that.
“Do you both promise to behave?”
Two heads nodded furiously.
“Alright. Scootch over.”
“S’ootch over!” Sherlock wrapped his arms around Jawn and wiggled them both backwards.
Mycroft sat on the bed, back against the headboard, “alright, hellions. We’re going to read Peter Rabbit.”
“Y’abbit?”
“Yes. I know Sherlock knows the stories, but it will be nice for us to share them with you.”
Jawn cooed in delight and snuggled up to Mycroft’s side, eyes on the story book in his hands, “y’abbit.”
“We can read a differen’ book after?”
“One story tonight. Then it’s time to rest.”
“I can rest and y’isten to stories,” Sherlock yawned, spooning behind Jawn.
“Sass will leave you with no stories.”
“Sssshhhhhhh! Story, p’yease.”Sadie:
Mycroft propped his feet up and held the book open with one hand, using his pinkie to flip to the first page. He then cleared his throat, and began to read; “Once upon a time,” he began, wrapping his free arm around the boys at his side, his fingers curling in Sherlock’s hair. “There were four little rabbits, and their names were–”
“F’yob’sy,” Sherlock mumbled, his eyelids already drooping.
“That’s right, Flopsy. And Mopsy–”
“Mo’bsy.”
“Cottontail.”
“An’ Pe’der.”
“That’s right, Peter was the fourth little rabbit. And they all lived with their mother in a sand bank, underneath the root of a very big fir tree.”
Mycroft paused, and looked down at the boys…
Sherlock was sound asleep, his dummy making little bobbing motions in his mouth, but Jawn was wide awake as ever, and focused on the picture of Mother rabbit dressing her little one’s up for the day.
“…Where’s Da’yee y’abbit?”
“Hm?”
Jawn looked up at Mycroft; “Where’s the Da’yee?”
“That’s…in another story.”
“Oh. We can read it nex’ time?”
“If you like this one than we can certainly read the rest of the series.”
“Okay! Wha’d the y’abbits do nex’?”
Mycroft read the story slowly, hoping that his tone would lull the little doctor to sleep. But Jawn stayed wide eyed and alert through the whole thing, gripping Mycroft’s waistcoat in fear when Peter was almost captured and quietly (after being reminded that Sherlock was sleeping) cheering when Peter escaped back through the fence and made it home.
“Is McG’eg’ry related to G’eg?”
“I don’t think so.”
Jawn made a face as he thought about that, “G’eg’s garden is at your house?”
“Yes.”
“Does he plant radishes and beans? I don’t y’ike y’ettuce.”
“Mmmm, I remember,” Mycroft put the book on the nightstand and gently encouraged Jawn onto his tummy as he rambled about vegetables.Sadie:
“But pota’does is my fav‘rite, all kin’na ways! Y’ike mashed, an’–!”
“Yes, those are wonderful,” Mycroft said, rubbing Jawn’s back in small circles. “Close your eyes while you tell me.”
“But I’m not tired!”
“I didn’t say ‘go to sleep’, I said ‘close your eyes’. You can talk with your eyes closed, can’t you?”
Jawn frowned. “I f’ing so,” he said, and closed his eyes. “Yea’, I can.”
“Fantastic. What’s your favorite way to eat a potato,” Mycroft asked quietly, and switched from rubbing, to patting.
“Fry!”
“Shhhhh.”
“So’ree,” Jawn whispered. “I y’ike chips a lot.”
“So do I. That’s Sherlock’s favorite way, too.”
“Yea’,” Jawn said, and then grew quiet.
So quiet, that Mycroft thought he had finally drifted off, and he stilled his hand. But no sooner than he tried to ease his way off the cot; “…My’coff?”
Mycroft sighed quietly, and sat back down. “Yes?”
“Wha’d was Sher’yock like?”
“What do you mean?”
“When he was a bay’bee.”
A faint smile crossed Mycroft’s lips; “That’s…a very loaded question,” he chuckled, and began to pat the back of Jawn’s nappy.
Jawn gave a low rumble of approval with each *whap*, settling more and more into the bed until he was a tiny doctor shaped puddle.
“He was very much like he is now…” Mycroft smiled to himself. “Sweet and endearing and moody beyond words.”
“Wor’s,” Jawn agreed around his dummy, surreptitiously found amongst the bedding.
“What were you like?”
“I ‘unno?”
“Mmmm, you’d have been to small to remember. But I’m guessing you’re similar too.”
“’M nah a bay’bee.”
Mycroft rolled his eyes, giving the next pat a little extra umph, “no, of course you aren’t.”
Jawn was quiet for a moment, “’m swee’d?”
“Very.”
Jawn’s cheeks pinked up and he rubbed his face on his blanket to hide. “Wha’d else?”Sadie:
Mycroft smirked. “Fishing for compliments, are we?”
“M’no’d f’issing!”
“Shhhh…the other baby is still asleep; let’s leave him that way.”
“Sor’ree.”
“See, you can be sweet and well-behaved.” Mycroft’s hand continued to thunk against Jawn’s nappy; “…when you want to be.”
Jawn turned his head just enough to peek up at Mycroft with one still-wide awake eye. “Were we ba’?”
“You both made some questionable choices today…such as taking a bite out of my thigh earlier–” Mycroft said dryly, with one of his pats landing a little lower on Jawn’s backside and catching a bit of bare leg; “–but those were few and far between.”
Jawn squeaked and hid his face again, and Mycroft heard a muffled “Th’or’ree,” from the pillow.
“I’m glad, but that was taken care of and forgiven then.” Mycroft stopped patting and leaned forward; “But do you know what else you could both do?”
Jawn turned to face Mycroft fully and blinked at him, waiting.
“You and Sherlock could learn to be nicer to each other.”
“I y’ub Sher’yock.”
“I know you do. But you’re not very nice to him and he’s not very nice to you.”
Jawn gave a sad little sigh, “s’only when we both y’ittle it’s hard.”
“What about it is hard?”
“I ‘unno.”
“Mmmmm. There are two very smart consulting detectives in this flat. It’s a case worth solving.”
“A’cause ba’ b’havior?”
“Because you make each other miserable when you don’t get along.”
“Nana say we need a ‘ge’d along’ shirt,” Jawn yawned.
Mycroft shook out the cramps that were building in his shoulder and went back to patting Jawn’s bum, “you’re Nana is a brilliant woman.”
“Y’ah. An’ scary.”
“I’ve heard all about her wooden spoon collection.”
Sadie:
“Sher’yocks haaaaaaaa’des them.”
“Does he? That’s good to know.”
Jwan, who’s eyelids had just started to droop, shot back open and gave Mycroft a dirty look. “Don’ use one on’im,” he grumped.
“I won’t, as long as he doesn’t give me reason to.” Mycroft whapped Jawn’s bottom. “Close your eyes, please.”
Jawn huffed and scooted closer to Sherlock, muttering under his breath about “S’upid spoons.”
Mycroft rolled his eyes (and winced a little there at the end…he might have actually pulled a muscle, after all the eye-rolling today), and gave Jawn’s backside one more softer pat before standing up and pulling the blankets higher up at their shoulders. “Goodnight”, he whispered, and placed a kiss on each forehead.
Jawn sat up before he made it to the door. “Where you goin’?!”
“Shhhhh.”
Jawn repeated himself in his version of a whisper; “Where you goin’?!”
“Just to the kitchen.”
“Oh, o’gay.”
“Lie back down, please.”
“Can I come???”
“No, you stay here with Sherlock…he doesn’t like being in the dark by himself.”
“O’gay. My’coff?”
Mycroft sighs. “Yes?”
“Can you leave’a door open, p’ease?”
“Of course.”
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