Sadie: This is a commission that was ordered last year by a blogger who requested a short story featuring their Little Girl and Mummy Irene, having an Easter Egg hunt!

Happy Easter, everyone! 🙂

“Darling, stand still and stop fussing.”

“Nuuuuuu!”

Irene stopped meddling with the felt-covered, bendable pink bunny ears that she was attempting (without much success) to affix to her fussy little girls’ hair, and stepped back; “…Our guests are going to be arriving soon. Should I tell them that they’ll be on their own for the Easter Egg hunt?”

Her little girl gave a high-pitched whinge. But, being the good Mummy that she is, Irene knew what that sort of whinge meant. “Then let Mummy get you dressed, pet,” she said, and then laughed at the pout she got in return. “Such a pouty little bun-bun,” Irene cooed, and tapped her little girl’s upturned nose. “Mummy’s little Bunny.”

Bunny blushed and hid her face in her hands. “Nuuuuuuuu,” she said again, only without the whinge. 

“Yeeeeeeeese,” Irene said, mimicking her tone and taking the opportunity to fix her little Bun-Bun’s ears while she was blushing herself into oblivion. She left one sticking straight up, and bent the other so that it looked like lazy, flippity-floppity bunny’s ear. “Perfect! And just the perfect shade of pink to match your dress!”

“My d’ess?” Bunny asked in that soft way of hers, and peeked through her fingers as she looked down at her self. Mummy had found a lovely dress online, just in time for Easter, with a big, squishy bubble-skirt in pink gingham, with straps like overalls that buckled over her shoulders…the buckles were Bunny’s favorite part, and the reason it was the most perfect dress for Easter–they were bright and shiny, and shaped just like bunnies!

Bunny moved her hands away from her face and touched the buckles, fascinated by the shine on them. “My d’ess!” she chirped, and did a little spin to make her skirt poof up.

Irene beamed at her charming little girl, and then thought to check her watch. “Oh, my…darling, our guests are due any second. Go fetch Luna and the baskets, please.” No sooner than Irene had spoken, when the doorbell sounded downstairs. “Look, there they are! Hurry now!” she said, sending Bunny off with a playful swat to the back of her puffy skirt.

Bunny gasped. “Lu-lu!” she said, and darted off to find her plush bunny and the Easter baskets.

While her little girl was busy, Irene made her way to the front foyer, her heels tapping on the marbled floor and echoing off the high, vaulted ceiling as she approached the front door, where she could hear muffled voices as well as see blurred, moving shapes on the other side of the frosted glass. Just as she reached for the knob, the doorbell rang again.

Her lips curled into a coquettish smile and she opened the door, only to be greeted by John Watson’s commanding voice; “–told you, you only ring it once!” he barked at the very chastised little boy at his side.

Her smiled broadened. “Hello, John.”

John’s attention snapped to Irene as he realized she had answered the door. “Hullo, Irene,” he said, his face softening, and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry about that, someone just got a little eager…Sherlock? What do you say?”

Sherlock, having been appropriately reprimanded, had his head bowed. At the sound of his name, he glanced up from his black-buckled shoes and looked at her shyly. “Sorry, ‘Rene,” he pouted, and reached up to tug at one of his curls.

“That’s quite alright, sweetheart,” she cooed at him, and stepped aside to let them both in. “Come in, come in…aren’t you excited at the fun you’re going to have at Auntie ‘Rene’s today?!’

Sherlock finally held his head up and gave her one of his award-winning sweet, crooked smiles; “Y’ah, “ he said, letting John take off his coat and revealing his own brand-new Easter outfit.

“Well,” Irene cooed, still grinning like the cat who caught the canary. “Aren’t you precious…turn around and let Auntie see you!”

Sherlock blushed furiously, but did as Irene asked, showing off an outfit that was incredibly similar to her little girls’…only instead of pink gingham, there was robin’s-egg-blue, and instead of a poofy skirt, there were short-all’s.

But, but outfits did include identical white blouses with Peter-Pan collars, black polished Mary-Jane’s, and the same sets of silver, bunny-shaped buckles.

Irene winked at John; “I told you it would suit him.”

John grinned back. “What can I say…when you’re right, you’re right. What were you supposed to tell Aunt Irene for your new clothes, sweetheart?”

“I y’ike them b’ery much, f’ank’oo!”

“You are so welcome, pet!” Irene clasped her hands together, as pleased as could be…these were going to make for marvelous pictures.

“ ‘Rene?” Sherlock asked. “Where’s Bun–?”

“Hiiii, Sher’yock!”

Sherlock turned around and grinned his sweet,lopsided grin as his friend bustled into the room and abandoned the white woven baskets she carried just so she could launch herself into into his arms. “Hi, Bun’nee!” he said, and wrapped her in a hug, her stuffed bunny squished between them.

“Aw, that was sweet,” John said as he hung up his and Sherlock’s coats. “Now I’m starting to feel a bit left out.”

“Hiiii, Un’ca Jawn!”

“That’s more like it…hi, cupcake!”

“I’m no’d a cu’bcake!”

“I’m sorry, I forgot!…but you do look a tiny bit like a cupcake in your pretty dress!”

Bunny giggled and hid her face against Sherlock’s shoulder.

“What do you say to Uncle John, darling?”

There was a muffled “F’ank’oo!”, and Irene laughed. “I don’t know, John,” she said, looking over at him with a gleam in her eye. “Do they look excited to you?”

John caught the gist and winked back. “Gee, I d’unno, Irene…they look a little sluggish. Maybe a nap should be in order first…” he said, and lost it at the chorus of ‘Nooooooooooo!’s and the very unhappy faces that were thrown his way.

“Muuuuummy, tell ‘im no!”
“You say’ed nap af’fer!!!”
“I’m no’d s’eepy!!”
“P’eeeeeease nooooo!”

Irene clapped her hands over the roar while John continued to crack up. “Boys and girls–BOYS AND GIRLS! LISTEN!”

The protests from the pastel duo grew quiet and set their gaze on Irene; Sherlock, sucking his thumb and Bunny, who was chewing on her stuffies’ long, floppy ear.

Irene smiled. “There we go,” she said, her voice back to it’s normal timbre. “Of course Uncle John and I were teasing: we’ll still hunt for eggs first, then lunch, then a nap.”

Both Littles looked at each other, relieved.

“Now, there are rules we need to talk about.”

Both Littles looked at each other again. “Rule’th?” Sherlock asked, his thumb making him lisp.

“Yes, rules. There are exactly forty-eight plastic eggs outside, twenty-four for each of you, and they all have wonderful prizes inside. But Sherlock can only collect the Silver eggs, and Bunny can only collect the Gold ones.”

“That’s a really good idea,” John whispered to her behind his hand. “I was wondering how to keep him from finding them all.”

Sherlock raised his hand, and Irene giggled to herself. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“Um, c’n I, um, c’n, I hel’b Bunny fin’ hers?”

“How sweet! Only if she asks you to, pet.” Irene clapped again. “Gather your baskets!”

Bunny and Sherlock each gave excited squeals and scrambled for their baskets.

“Ready? Alright, follow me!” Irene led the giddy, giggly bunch to the backdoor with john trailing behind, and held her hand on the knob. “Remember, you can only collect your own color egg, understand?”

They both nodded at her, each one bouncing from foot-to-foot in anticipation.

“One…two…three! GO!” Irene flung the door open and was nearly trampled in a flurry of shrieking and shiny-buckled shoes, if John hadn’t pulled her out of the way just in time. “That, was hilarious.”

“Shut up,” she laughed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Not twenty minutes later, all four were seated at the patio table, already set for lunch, while Sherlock and Bunny were cracking open their eggs and babbling excitedly over their prizes.

“Y’ook, Da’yee!” Sherlock was sitting in John’s lap, chocolate already coating the corners of his mouth, and waved a tiny container of bubbles under his nose. “Bubb’as!”

John kissed his cheek; “I see that. Perhaps you and Bunny can play with them later.”

Bunny sat at Irene’s feet, her own basked balanced in her lap. “Oooo,” she cooed as a plastic ring fell out of her egg and into her palm. “I gott’ed treasure!” she said, holding it up for Irene to see.

“Goodness, how did that get in there?” Irene took it from her and slipped it on her own finger, then held it to to admire it. “Diamonds aren’t for babies!”

“Mummy, noooooooo!” Bunny giggled and sat up on her knees, reaching for her prize. “Tha’ds mine!”

“Is it? Are you sure?”

“Y’us!”

“I’ll trade you a kiss for it.”

Bunny tilted her head up and Irene pecked her on the lips, then slipped the ring on her little girl’s finger. “Did you have fun, darling?”

Bunny held out her hand and admired her ring, just like her Mummy had. “Y’us!”

“C’n we do i’d again???” Sherlock chirped from the other side of the table.

“But you’ve found all the eggs, dearest!”

“I c’n hide’em y’is time!”

“Me too!” Bunny added.

Irene looked at John, who shrugged. “Very well,” Irene said, finally. “Both of you may take turns hiding them again while we fix lunch.”

There were cheers and whoops from both little ones. “Bun’nee, you c’yose you eyes!” Sherlock said, scooping his eggs back into his basket and scrambling down from John’s lap, with Bunny hot on his heels.

“This was a really, really good idea,” John said to her, watching the babies across the yard.

Irene smiled as she watched her little Bun-bun peeking at Sherlock through her fingers.

“Yes…I do have them, from time to time. Care to help me in the kitchen?”

John bowed and gestured for her to go ahead, before following her back into the house.

                                                ~END~