Sadie: I’m fairly certain that this anon is the same one who sent in this prompt:

If so: I’m sorry it took me so long! If not: what an incredible coincidence! And I’m still sorry it took so long!

“Jawn? Where’d you go, monkey?”

Greg looked up from the plate of sandwiches he’d been making for his and Jawn’s lunch, and glanced around the kitchen.

No Jawn to be seen.

But Greg had a pretty good idea of where he was.

And he was right…he’d have to brag about that a bit later, after Mycroft and Sherlock returned.

He found Jawn was back in the main foyer, as expected, watching gloomily out of one of the big, floor-to-ceiling windows that were on either side of the front door, his nose and forehead pressed against the glass.

Greg sighed. “They’ll be back soon, love.”

“…I wan’ned a’go, too.”

Greg stepped up behind the melancholy little doctor and put his hands on his shoulders. “I know. But they couldn’t take you this time, pet.”

Jawn looked up and met Greg’s gaze in the reflection. “Why?”

“Because it’s going to be a terribly boring meeting full of stuffy people using big words that only Mycroft and your Daddy would understand.”

Jawn blinked at him, his breath momentarily fogging up the window, then dropped his gaze and went back to staring at the empty drive outside. Greg thought he saw a slight wobble in his bottom lip.

‘Shit.’ “Besides, they needed you to help keep me out of trouble,” Greg said, giving Jawn’s shoulder a squeeze. “Mycroft said I can’t be trusted by myself.”

No reaction.

Dammit. He was in danger of losing his ‘fun Uncle’ status; if Sherlock came back to a whingy, crying Jawn, he would never hear the end of it. “C’mon…you wouldn’t want to see your dear old Uncle Greg get smacked for making a mess in the kitchen, do y’ah?” Greg tweaked Jawn’s ear playfully. “I need supervision!”

Jawn, who obviously hadn’t been expecting it, squeaked and scrunched his shoulder, pulling away from Greg. “Noooo,” he said, but Greg still caught a hint of a smile in his reflection.

“You would, wouldn’t you. Traitor.”

Jawn turned and tried to pout up at him, and failed. Instead, a devious little smirk played upon his lips. “G’eg made a funny noise when My’coff smack ‘im o’vver night.”

Well. At least he’d kept him from crying. Greg cleared his throat; “You saw that, hm?”

“I see y’ots o’b things.”

Greg took his chance while Jawn was distracted and herded him back towards the kitchen.“You’re nosy, just like your Da’.”

“Is called ‘obser’vin’.”

“It’s called ‘not mindin’ your business’.”

“Tha’s the fun par’d.”

Greg snorted. Sherlock was rubbing off on this one. “Well, we’ll still have fun and keep Greg out of trouble at the same time, how about that.”

“Where’s the fun par’d?”

“…You know, you can go back to watching out the window, kid.”