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.
“Oh! So pretty!” John cooed.
“Thank you, Jawn.” Mycroft said, with a tilt of his head. Sherlock made a face and went back to counting his sprinkles.
“Wha’ flavor is it?” John said around a mouthful of ice cream.
“It’s rose flavour.” Mycroft took a dainty bite, steadfastly ignoring the fact that John was talking with his mouth full.
“Fwowers?”
“Yes, like the flowers.”
“Rabbit food.” Sherlock whispered into his own ice cream that he was stirring into a soup.
“Can I try some? You can try mines.” John hastily plucked a gummy worm off of a spoonful of green ice cream before offering it to Mycroft.
Sadie: “You can have a bite, yes, but I’m not having that one.”
“Oh. Cause’da worm?”
“Yes, because of the…worm,” Mycroft said tightly. “Sherlock, you asked for it, please eat it.”
“Is too sweet,” Sherlock grumbled, holding up his spoon and watching the syrup drip from it.
“I’m sure it’s very sweet,” Mycroft got a small spoonful of his ice cream and held it up to John’s lips. “But I’ve seen you tuck away a whole jar of that marshmallow gunk without batting an eyelid. What’s put you off, hm?”
Sherlock picked up a gummy worm, put it in his mouth, and loudly slurped it down and chewed while looking Mycroft directly in the eye.
While Mycroft was busy scowling at Sherlock, john helped himself to another spoonful of Mycroft’s ice cream, leaving behind a trail of green whipped cream.
“This is da’licious. Next time I wan’ fwowers too.”Sherlock broke eye contact first, turning make to the porridge he’d made of his ice cream. “Can I try it too?” He asked, barely loud enough to hear.
“Of course,” Mycroft put a hand on the little detective knee. “Jawn, keep your spoon in your own cup,” Mycroft said, gently smacking the back of John’s hand as it made its way into his cup for the second time.
Mycroft scooped a bite of ice cream onto his spoon and offered it to Sherlock, who ate it quietly before opening his mouth for another bite.
Mycroft bit his lip. As precious as that was, they were in public. And while their behavior had been odd, it had been within normal limits. Mycroft really didn’t relish the idea of getting an ASBO for…whatever this was.
Sadie: Mycroft spooned one more bite into Sherlock’s mouth, then cleared his throat. “You’ve both had two bites, now eat your own.”
Sherlock looked down at his cup full of…well, it was more chocolate soup now than ice cream. He picked out another worm with his fingers. “Is’all melted.”
“That’s what happens when you stir it,” Mycroft said, finally taking the first ite of his own treat. “Try it again, it’s even better this way; it won’t freeze your teeth now.”
Sherlock laid the worm on the edge of his cup, then stared at his spoon. “…You do it?” he asked innocently, and Mycroft had a difficult time saying ‘no’.
He shook his head; “No, not here, lad. Sherlock needs to be a big boy and do it himself this time.”
Sherlock looked down and pouted, but didn’t argue. Because if he argued, he knew he’d get upset. And if he got upset, he knew he’d cry. And he didn’t want to cry. At least not here, in front of people. He went to pick up his spoon and at least make an attempt at finishing the rest of the sugary muck , but he noticed a smudge of chocolate on his thumb from the worm he’d picked up, and went to lick it off.
That…was a mistake. Because now that his thumb was in his mouth…he didn’t want to take it out.
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