Tag: She’s doing great!

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:

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.

“Don’t be vile, Mycroft.” Sherlock said, flopping back down next to John.
Mycroft pulled the nappy over John’s bits, taping it closed. He smiled to himself as he watched the tension drain from the little doctor’s chest. “Not vile, brother mine, pragmatic. And anyways spoon feeding two fussy little boys doesn’t sound like an enjoyable time.”
“We can feed our selfs!”
“Yes, just as you can change yourselves.”
Sherlock huffed and curled into John. The nappy change had left the little doctor subdued, which left it up to Sherlock to air their self righteous indignation.
“I was thinking chips.” Mycroft cut in before Sherlock could utter a peep.

Sadie: Sherlock sat straight up as if on a loaded spring, knocking John aside. “Chips? You mean it?”

Mycroft had removed John’s trousers completely, leaving him in just a nappy and jumper for convenience (the fact that he looked incredibly adorable a fortunate, but unrelated, bonus), and now took his hands to help him sit up. “Careful, Sherlock…and yes, I meant it. Chips, fish, vinegar, and greasy newspaper; all of it. You only have to promise that you’ll finish most of it instead of poking at it.”

“John likes extra vinegar!” Sherlock wiggled in place, his sour mood forgotten.
“He doesn’t need nagging to get him to eat chips. He’ll eat his and mines and yours, if we let him.” John said, tugging ineffectually at his jumper to cover his nappy.
Mycroft merely hummed as he gingerly picked up the soiled nappies and went to throw them away in the bin in the kitchen. Sherlock hopped along behind him, dragging John by the hand.
“I need trousers and pants if we’re going to the chippy.” John grumbled.

Sadie: “Trousers, perhaps, but pants would only be redundant.” Mycroft stripped his gloves off with another snap that sent a shiver down Sherlock’s spine and caused him to clench John’s hand. “Those trousers were damp and smelt sour, but you’re welcome to put them back on if you’d like,” he added with a smirk. “Though, I wouldn’t hesitate to say we’d likely get faster service if you stayed as you are.”

Sherlock snorted while John’s face blushed from the top of his head down to the neckline of his jumper, and likely farther than that. “I’m NOT…! You wouldn’t…!” he sputtered.

Mycroft tossed the gloves in the bin. “Of course I wouldn’t, but it’s a highly amusing thought, isn’t it? You’re almost as high strung as Sherlock.”

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:

squeakpigsrevenge:

sadieandmo:

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.

“No, no, no! We’ll be good!” Sherlock said as John nodded emphatically. They both loved Nana, the sweet old dear, but she didn’t put up with fuss and was quick to deliver a smack.
Mycroft hummed to himself. “Sherlock. Pull out what we’ll need to change two nappies.” Mycroft shooed his baby brother off his lap and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Sherlock asked as he pulled the bin of changing supplies from under the bed.
“Gloves.” Mycroft said over his shoulder as he disappeared down the hallway.

Sadie: “Yes, Your Majesty!” Sherlock shouted mockingly at Mycroft’s back while John stuck his tongue out and then giggled as if it were the best joke in the world…then he stopped. “He’ll change..both of us?” he asked. He liked the man well enough at times, but, well…their interactions never involved his bits before.

“That’s what he implied,” Sherlock said with a shrug as he dug out a package of wipes, a bottle of talcum powder, and two nappies. Truth was, he sounded more blase’ than he felt…it wouldn’t be the first time Mycroft had changed him, but that had been when he was actually small. “Why…do you want to marinate in your own piss all day?”

“Language.” John said absently, his face scrunched in concentration. “Couldn’t we change each other?”

“Shouldn’t the babysitter be changing us?” Sherlock wasn’t sure why he was arguing, having john change him sounded like an excellent plan.

John shuffled uncomfortably, he’d already been wet for to long and his skin was starting to chafe. “Just seems strange to have a bloke who isn’t you touch my bits.”

“Mycroft is hardly a bloke.” Sherlock quipped, which set them off giggling again.

Sadie: “I could hear every word you said, despite the donkey-esque braying you both did.” Mycroft entered the room, snapping a pair of disposable black nitrile gloves over his hands. Like his brother, his fingers were long and tapered…a musician’s hands. Or someone who could at least be decent with an instrument.

“Are you psychic now, as well?” The defiant tone in Sherlock’s voice was undermined by the faint blush underlining his cheekbones at the snapping sound the medical gloves made. John had conditioned him well.

Mycroft nodded towards the head of their bed…where the traitorous little baby monitor sat. “Little boys shouldn’t be using such language, Sherlock. Up on the bed…you’re going first.”

Sherlock squared his narrow shoulders. “John is going to change me.” He declared. Sherlock glanced over his shoulder at john who was chewing on the corner of a pillow he had clutched to his chest. bollocks.

“John is far to little to change your nappy, Sherlock. Please don’t be tedious. This needn’t be anymore unpleasant than it already is.”

Sherlock slowly scooted up the bed and laid down. As the tapes on his nappy came undone he blindly reached for John. The little doctor quickly replaced the corner of the pillow with Sherlock’s thumb.

Sadie: Sherlock was startled by the feeling of John’s mouth and tongue wrapping around his thumb.  ‘Not good. Not. Good. Not good, not good, not good not good NOT GOOD.’ He turned his head to the side and studied his poster of the periodic table, distracting himself with putting them in order by their atomic mass.

Mycroft simply worked with the facts. He was changing his little brother. He was wiping his little brother clean. He’d done this before, numerous times. So what if things were a little…bigger, and there was more hair now? He tapped on Sherlock’s hip; “Bum up, please.”