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.
“No!” John stomped his foot for emphasis. “G’een in mines! Gimme it!” John made to grab the crayon but found himself being lifted and plopped on his bottom.
“Jawn has enough green crayons. If he needs the one that Sherlock is using, he can trade one of his other green crayons for it.” Mycroft said, hoping to head off a wobbler. Years of diplomatic work was no match for dealing with two whingy toddlers.
“Nonononono!” John’s heels thumping on the floor. “Is my g’een c’ayons!”
“What are you going to draw, Jawn?” Mycroft sat on the sofa and pulled a sheet of paper from the stack.
“A Hulk.” John sulked.
“My co’ders?” Sherlock nudged the crayon tub closer to his older brother, but keeping his green crayon cradled to his chest.
“We can put your pit’cher on our f’idge, too.” John kept his green crayons in his lap, fiddling with them, but his attention had turned back to the film, the final fight sequence playing on the screen.
“Perhaps. What should I draw?”
Sadie:
“Gol’fish,” Sherlock said, wrinkling his nose the same way he had earlier.
“That was cute exactly once,” Mycroft replied (although he could possibly be coerced into saying it was cute this time, too) and reached out to pinch the little detective’s cheek, making him squeal and fall to the side. “Besides, I thought that’s what you were drawing.”
“Uh-huh!” Sherlock sat up and dug into the pile of crayons again, swishing his hands around to make them rattle and clack against one another.
“That’s a bit unnecessary, lad.” Mycroft took his little brother’s wrist and held it still after noticing the annoyed look John had shot them. Seems that someone was still a mite touchy about missing a green crayon. “So, how do they calm the Hulk down after a fight? Does he stay green forever?” he asked, and picked out a brown crayon for himself, then a red one.
“Singin’” John mumbled, his eyes fixed on the screen.
“Music can be very soothing.” Mycroft began to sketch out his drawing. “Do they say what song?”
“No, jus a lullaby.”
Sherlock tugged on his brothers sleeve. “My’coff! This one is g’een! Hulk fish! Look, My’coff!” Sherlock wiggled in place, immensely pleased by the scribbled green fish on his paper.
“That’s lovely. Can you draw some more fish? They like to live in big groups called schools.”
“Sc’oo’s.” Sherlock nodded seriously as he began to draw more fish in neon orange.
“Do you know lots of songs?”
“Quite a few. Mummy doesn’t have much of a singing voice, but she loved to sing when we were small.”
“Ouch! My ears!” Sherlock giggled over his own joke, ignoring the pointed look Mycroft sent him.
“I only know a few. I keep trying to learn more a’cause it helps Sherlock sleep.
Sadie:
Mycroft smiled to himself. “It always did. I mostly hum, myself…Sherlock’s awfully lucky he has someone who can carry a tune now.”
John blushed and looked down at his page, where he’d barely done a few lines of colour, but it was obvious he was a very proud little man at that point. “Not that good,” he muttered, trying to pass it off as no big deal.
“Uh-HUH!” Sherlock protested. “I y’ike it when Jawn sing!”
“Well, if Sherlock said it, it must be true.” Mycroft finished the darker outline of his big, chocolate cake and started shading in the frosting, saving the big cherries on top for last; he knew both boys would get a kick out of it and would make cake-jokes for ages after, but he found that he didn’t mind the thought.
“Jawn sing now?”
John looked up, surprised, and saw Sherlock watching him from across the table with those big, bright eyes of his, orange crayon still poised above his picture. John glanced at Mycroft out of the corner of his eye and quickly shook his head; “No, not now.”
Sherlock’s face fell into one of genuine disappointment. “P’ease?! Jawn sing?!”
“Uh-uh.”
Sherlock’s bottom lip stuck out, and just when Mycroft thought he was in for another squall of a tantrum, his little brother surprised both of them by putting his green crayon on the table and pushing it over to John. “…P’ease?”
John stared at Sherlock, wide eyed before gently picking up the crayon and cradling it to his chest. John licked his lips and began. “If I had words to make a day for you…” John paused to glance nervously at Mycroft before going on. “I’d sing you a morning golden and true.”
Sherlock had his head tipped to the side, smiling softly. Mycroft glanced between them before stealthily pulling his phone from his pocket; this was to precious to not try and save.
“I would make this day last for all time, then fill the night deep in moonshine.” John smiled into his lap as Sherlock hummed along as he moved through the verse one more time.
“Again, Jawn. P’ease?” Sherlock begged, slowly opening his eyes that had drifted shut.
“You’ll fall asleep.”
“Not s’eeping, Jawn! Listening!” Sherlock tried to scowl around a yawn, but failed.
Mycroft had secreted his phone back into his pocket, the video hidden inside an encrypted file, just in case tiny hands (very large hands, actually…) found his phone. “That’s a beautiful lullaby, Jawn.” Mycroft picked up his crayon to put the finishing touches on the frosting on his cake.
Sadie:
Sherlock quickly rubbed at his eye with the heel of his hand, grumpy that he hadn’t gotten a second song, but that was overridden by John having picked one of his favorites. “What My doing?” he asked, abandoning his school of mostly-orange fish and their one green friend to climb up onto the couch and bulldoze his way into Mycroft’s lap, where he settled and stuck his thumb in his mouth.
“Colouring, like you both asked me to,” Mycroft grunted as he turned his head to avoid getting a mouthful of curly hair.
“What co’doring?” Sherlock asked, tilting his head back to peer up at Mycroft, chewing on his thumb.
“Look and see for yourself, nosy.”
‘Nosy’ Little Sherlock wrinkled his own nose at his brother and looked down at the picture like Mycroft asked. “Cake!” he babbled excitedly, picking it up.
“Well, I wasn’t done with it yet.”
“Y’ook, Jawn! My’coff cake!”
John looked up and grinned; “It looks like a choc’late mountain!”
“Does it? I’ve never seen a three-tiered mountain with cherries on top.”
“You should add’a choc’ate snowman! With a head fer’a cherry!”
“…A head for a cherry?”
John snorted; “You know what I meant, My’coff!”
“You sound like Sherlock.”
John flashed him a toothy grin before going back to his drawing.
“What dat means, My’coff?” Sherlock frowned, gently patting his older brothers cheek.
Mycroft shook his head, not willing to upset the peace they’d found. “Would you like to help me finish coloring my picture?”
“Co’doring My pit’cher?!”
“I wanna help! I can help!” John scrambled up and around the end of the table until he was kneeling opposite Mycroft, green crayon poised for action.
“Yes, Jawn can help me as well.” Mycroft eased the baby off his lap and back onto the floor. “Can you create the snowman with the head cherry?”
John rolled his eyes before picking up a pink crayon to begin painstakingly drawing a cherry.
“I d’aw pish?” Sherlock slurred around his thumb.
“Are there fish on a chocolate mountain?”
“Ye’th!”
“Oh, no.” John whispered. “I’m so sorry, My’coff.” The little doctor sounded near tears.
“What’s wrong, Jawn?”
Jawn leaned away from the table, showing off the part of the picture he’d been working on. The green crayons he’d been holding to his chest had left scribbles on the corner of the paper when he’d been drawing the cherry.
“I broke it.”
Sadie:
“You didn’t break anything. Grass grows around the base of mountains.”
“But that’s the sky!”
“And that’s a chocolate cake for a mountain. We’re not going for realism, lad…we can have a green sky, along with fish, and an army of cherry snowmen.”
Jawn looked as if he wanted ever so much for that to be true, but he still needed to be convinced. “…Really?” he asked, chewing on the end of the pink crayon.
Mycroft moved his hand away;“ Don’t do that, you’ll turn your teeth pink. And yes, really. Finish up the green sky, and Sherlock can add more fish.”
Sherlock perked up at the sound of his name. “Pink tee’f? I see?” he said, reaching for John’s mouth.
Well, that was a disaster waiting to happen. “No, no pink teeth,” Mycroft said, taking him around the waist and sitting him back down on his bottom.
“I see!”
“There’s nothing to see; colour your fish.”
“But I wan’ seeeeeee!” Sherlock whined, and kept sinking down further into the floor.
Mycroft sighed; “Jawn, smile at Sherlock so he can see that you don’t have pink teeth.”
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.
“Mine.” “Not if you can’t behave.” Mycroft tugged on the little doctors coat sleeve until he was in front of them. “Since I need to keep an eye on you.” “I didn’t mean’a poke him.” John huffed, walking more heavily than was strictly necessary. “Attitude, Jawn.” Sherlock looked especially smug. “I can have cherries on my whip creme.” “Me too!” Jawn nearly tripped over himself to get back the two steps to Sherlock, strop forgotten. “‘Member that one time Nana maked ice cream with worms!” “Yeah!” “Nana fed you worms?” “G’een worms are the best worms.” “Maybe they can make worm sundaes.” Mycroft felt himself turn a little green. Green Mycroft’s are not the best Mycroft’s.
Sadie: Sherlock turned to Mycroft to ask him what kinds of worms he thought were the best and was surprised to see all the colour drained from his face….then he started giggling. “NO, My!…they’s candy!” he hooted.
Mycroft felt a rush of relief, but it was short-lived as John joined in with Sherlock’s cackling and ribbing. “Worms are foul,” he sniffed. “Even if they’re are candy ones.”
“You thought real worms!” John crowed, pulling faces.
“Gross!” Sherlock added.
“Yes, it is,” Mycroft agreed. “And that’s why we’re going to change the subject, NOW.”
A Cheshire cat-esque smile split John’s face. “My’coff gonna be sick? Don’t like worms? Squiggly, wiggly worms?”
“Jawn.”
“Wiggly worms in mou’f? Wiggle down into tummy?”
Mycroft felt that ‘green’ feeling lurch against his guts. “Jawn, I said no more.”
“Wiggly worms in–!”
“Let’s talk about Jawn’s padded bum, hm?”
John’s mouth hung open before snapping closed with an audible click of his teeth. “I don’t want this anymore.” He said, shoving the umbrella into Sherlock’s hands before turning on his heels and walking away. “Jawn Hamish, get your bottom back here.” John’s shoulders shot up around his ears at the use of his middle name. Mycroft softened his approach, “Come on now, lad. You can tease me but I can’t tease you?” John glanced over his shoulder, his little face scrunched to keep from crying. “I may have over stepped. I apologize. Can you forgive me?” John nodded quickly and collided with Mycroft, wrapping short arms around his waist.
Sadie: Mycroft wrapped his arms around John’s shoulders simultaneously. “There,” he said, lightly patting his back, “Let’s make a pact to stop teasing each other the first time one asks, yes? Good plan?”
John nodded, his face hidden against the taller man’s chest.
Mycroft chuckled…the pair was certainly a handful, but they were an adorable handful. “…It’s an awfully cute padded bum, though, you have to admit.”
John’s head snapped up, stricken. “You can really see…?!”
“Only because I know it’s already there.” Mycroft was quick to assure him. “No one else would think to look twice.”
A little of the tension left John’s shoulders, and they sagged with relief. But as soon as he seemed to be settling, the little Captain puffed up again; “Why do you think no one would look twice at my bum?”
“Oh, for…!” Mycroft turned John around and got the group moving again. “I’ll look at your bum all you want when it’s over my knee later, you little brat.”
John giggled and stuck out his tongue. “I wan’ the umbrella back.”
“No, you willingly gave it up; it’s Sherlock’s turn.”
Sherlock held the umbrella out as if he was leading an orchestra. “My turn.”
“I can have my dummy then?” John peeped over his shoulder, surreptitiously glancing down at his own bum.
Mycroft smirked. While it was true no one would know what they were looking at, John’s ‘g’een’ trousers did little disguise his nappy.
“No dummies outside the flat.”
“But, but, but…” John turned to face Mycroft to voice his rebuttal and stumbled. Mycroft deftly hooked his elbow through John’s and pulled the little doctor into his side.
“I traded the ‘brella for my dummy,” John pouted, tugging at Mycroft’s elbow, trying to get away.
“Yes, and then you gave the umbrella to Sherlock.”
“I don’t have the ‘brella, so I can have my dummy.”
“My dummy.”
“Is not!”
“Yes huh!” Sherlock pointed the umbrella menacingly at John.
Sadie: Mycroft pushed the point of the umbrella down. “I’m going to be taking MY umbrella back, if neither of you can treat it properly…and you can have your dummy back later, not now.”
“Why not?” John gave up trying to break free from the man’s surprisingly strong grip and cuddled close, looking up at Mycroft with woeful puppy-dog eyes and sticking out his bottom lip.
“Because.”
A’cause why, My?”
”Because…” Mycroft mentally sprinted to find a reason that didn’t include ‘because people would stare, and if you’re that worried about your nappy showing, why would you want your dummy?’…now was not the time to be so biting. “If you had your dummy in your mouth, how would you be able to eat your ice cream?”
John’s eyes widened, as if Mycroft had just bestowed the answer to life, love, and the universe unto him. “Ohhh….tha’ssa good reason,” he said, awed.
Mycroft was feeling pleased with himself, until a certain you-know-who had to chime in with a derisive snort; “You can take dummies out, Jawn.”
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.
A cuddle would be strong motivation. And Mycroft is be an excellent story teller. Sherlock brought him John’s favorite book to read. The tiny doctor would creep closer and closer until he was practically in Mycroft’s lap anyways. By the time we learn why Grey crayon is so grumpy John is fully in his lap and helping to turn the page.
Sadie: Mycroft would be relieved…as narrow as Jawn’s little bum is, and as tiny as Sherlock could origami in his elbows and knees, he still had to hold onto both of them so they wouldn’t tumble right out of the chair they were crowded in. Hard to do that and turn the pages…let alone keep both boys from snipping at each other over who’s turn it was to turn said page.
They make it through the whole book without incident, but all hell breaks loose when it’s time to select the next book. Sherlock falls to the floor kicking when Mycroft informs him that it’s John’s turn to select a book. Sherlock “gave up his turn” for a book John would like and now John was going to pick another “crap” book. Which of course sets off John shouting about what a good book the crayon book is etc. Mycroft learns the hard way that both little boys respond better to “Please” than they do to commands. Admittedly it works better on John who goes to select another book, while Sherlock wiggles on the floor trying to bite Mycroft’s ankles.
Sadie: A smart tug on an unruly lock of hair put a stop to that as Mycroft continued to explain why Sherlock would now be sitting on the floor and not his lap with Jawn this time, who brought back another book in The Grey Crayon series: Grey Crayon Goes To The Zoo. He wouldn’t insist on Mycroft making the animal noises, but he informed him that it would only add to the experience.
Sherlock rubbed at his stingy scalp and pouted as Jawn sprawled on Mycroft’s lap. Without the immediate attention available on Mycroft’s lap, he quickly became bored of Jawn’s dumb book and wondered to the toy box. He’d use his action figures to play out his own story. No crayons allowed.
Sadie: Mycroft hears him rustling about and tries to keep a sharp ear on him and pay attention to Jawn at the same time, letting the little doctor take over the story and read out loud.
Mycroft still had to make the noises, though.
(and with that, I have to say goodnight for now :P)
“At last the Grey crayon had colored all the animals at the zoo.” Jawn said, patting the picture gently. “See! I told you this is a good book.” Mycroft nodded, suddenly distracted by the silence in the rest of the room. That was not a good sign. Mycroft nudged the little doctor off his lap, causing him to whinge. “We must find Sherlock so that he can select the next book.”
Sadie: Jawn was slightly surprised at himself for forgetting his own friend; that’s just how deeply he’d been engrossed in his storytelling. Now that he was thinking about it, it had been awhile since he’d heard any snide remarks mumbled from behind a dummy, and in this case…silence was not always golden. There were no crashes or odd smells or discoloured smoke, so it couldn’t be too bad. He watched Mycroft stand, craning his neck to look up at him, and took his offered hand.
They moved through the few rooms on the first floor hand in hand. Mycroft opened cupboards and searched behind doors. “It’s a good thing I’m being accompanied by a detective as it seems our Sherlock has vanished into thin air.” Mycroft said, pulling back the shower curtain to glance into the tub. John blinked at Mycroft for a moment before steepling his small hands beneath his chin.
Sadie: (omg, that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever read)
Mycroft caught the gesture out of the corner of his eye and pressed his lips together tightly to keep from barking a laugh. Then he stood, sighed, and put his hands on his hips; “Sherlock HOLMES,” he called out, then waited for an answer. There was none.
“Sherlock HOLMES, one!…”
“Two!” John tipped his head to listen, but the flat stayed stayed silent. “If I get to three, I know one little boy who is going to have a stinging bottom!” John tapped at Mycroft’s elbow, “I know where he is…I think.” This time Mycroft could suppress his smile. “Let’s hear your deductions then.” “Well…” John rocked on his heels, staring at the floor hard. “I don’t think he left the sitting room at all. We’d have noticed. And most of the toys at the top of the bin are soft, though that wasn’t true before…”
Sadie: “Hmm,” Mycroft hummed. Perhaps his little brother was right…John wasn’t quite your average goldfish. “Sherlock’s reputation as the world’s ‘only’ consulting detective might need to be reevaluated,” he said, patting John on the head. “How should we lure him out? Threat of torture? Tie a string to a ox and a stick and set his microscope underneath?”
John glowed under such high praise. “He’s already in the biggest box in the flat. And he’s not allowed to touch the microscope when he’s little. He made that rule himself.” “How oddly thoughtful of him.” Mycroft opened a cupboard and pulled out a package of Jammie Dodgers. “Would you like a biscuit, John?” Both John and Mycroft watched as the cardboard toy bin started to to wiggle.
Sadie: The corner of Mycroft’s mouth ticked up. “It’s a shame there’s no one else here to share them with, isn’t it?” he said to no one in particular, gaze focused on the wiggling box. “What should we do with the rest of them? Throw them to the birds? Eat them ourselves?”
No sooner than the words left Mycroft’s lips, there was a bold, window-shaking cry of “NO!” as a red-faced detective exploded from his hiding spot, sending stuffed animals flying every which way.
“…It must have been getting uncomfortable in there, folded up that way,” Mycroft added, unfazed.
Sadie & Mo's Boutique 