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.

Mycroft rubbed Sherlock’s back absently and began to hum. The little detective sighed and rested his ear against Mycroft’s chest. A few moments later the humming became a duet as John joined in.
Sherlock popped up as if he were spring loaded. “Jawn! Jawn, Jawn, Jawn! Up, Jawn, up!” Sherlock wiggled to try and get out of Mycroft’s arms and into John’s. “My’coff! Jawn!”
“I like that song,” John said, a wistful look on his face. He touched Sherlock’s hair and the little boys settled immediately, blinking huge eyes at his Jawn. “Our Mam used to sing it for me and Harry.”
Mycroft smiled softly at John. “It’s a lovely song. I’m glad we both know it.”
“Up, My?” Sherlock peeped, dropping his binky onto Mycroft’s chest.
“Yes, fine. Up.” Mycroft released his hold on his baby brother and watched him bolt out of bed. “How shall we spend the rest of our afternoon?”

Sadie: “Can we, um…can we try for ice cream again?”

Mycroft was in the midst of rubbing the sleep from his face, and gave John a look through his fingers.

“We’ll be good this time, swear!”

“Maybe…and that’s a BIG ‘maybe’,” he replied. “You’ll both have to prove to me that you can behave and listen to me first.” Mycroft sat up on the side of the bed and stretched, making his back pop.

John giggled.

Mycroft swatted behind him without looking and smirked when he connected with something puffy and heard a yelp. “Let’s go find your Sherlock before he gets into anything, and you both probably need a chan–”

A loud *THUD* from the kitchen interrupted him, followed by a beat pause, then a cry. Mycroft looked up sharply and hurried to see what had happened.