"Hello?"
"Is this Mrs. Burling?"
"Yes… Who is this?"
"Mycroft Holmes." He smirked at the intake of breath when she heard his name. Apparently his reputation proceeded him; excellent.
"I know precisely why you are calling and under no circumstances will I or the school's board of governors let that menace of yours back in the school. As soon as the chaos dies down, we're officially expelling her," the woman said.
He could tell she was trying to get the upper hand in the conversation but that, of course, was not going to happen. "Oh good heavens, you believe I'm calling you to plead for leniency? Isn't that amusing! How very naïve of you Mrs. Burling."
There was a brief pause before she responded. "I am not naïve and if you are not calling, on my personal number no less which is a breach of common decency, to plead for her continued enrollment than why are you calling?"
"You will find, Mrs. Burling, that by the end of the day the paperwork to withdraw Rose from the school will be awaiting you and the other governors but that is neither here nor there," Mycroft replied in a clipped tone. "I do, however, take offense to the fact that you dare to accuse me of lacking common decency. I'm well aware of the fact that you have screamed my sister's name at everyone with a microphone for the last hour or so, and isn't that rather a case of, as they say, the pot calling the kettle black?" He smiled at the long pause and continued on when it seemed she could not find anything to say just yet.
"In any case, I am calling to give you a friendly warning, Mrs. Burling. If you do not wish to destroy the entire reputation of yourself and the school, you will shut that overly large and obnoxious mouth of yours and listen to the reasons why," Mycroft ordered in a tone that would brook no argument. "I know a great many people who send their children to your school that value its exclusivity, sterling reputation, and discretion. Mrs. Burling, you have not been very discreet this day and when it becomes apparent to other parents at the school that you are ready, willing, and clearly able to offer up information about students to the general public at your whim, I do believe they will think twice about keeping their children in your school."
"Is that a threat? I don't care who you are or what you know or what you do for a living, you will not threaten me!" Her voice shook, despite her attempts to keep it steady and authoritative.
"Oh no Mrs. Burling, that is not at all a threat. I'm merely making you aware of facts that your tiny little mind does not seem to have taken into account because you are so filled with anger and vengeance at a seven-year-old," Mycroft replied, his voice icy and hard. "People value my judgment, Mrs. Burling, and when it becomes known that Rose has been withdrawn from your school, they will undoubtedly follow suit. The longer you prattle on like a mindless idiot about my sister, throwing her name at the press as if she, a paying student, means very little to you, the more damage will be done and the more students will be withdrawn within the next 48 hours. And don't fret about my little Rose; there is no shortage of schools looking to add a budding genius with a very large fortune to their student populous."
Mrs. Burling was filled with dread as she realized that every word he spoke was true and she could already imagine the wealthier families who appreciated discreet and private schools removing their children forthwith and taking a massive chunk of the school's funding along with them.
"Ah, I believe my words have finally penetrated your thick skull," Mycroft murmured with devilish delight, as though he could feel the dread coming off her in waves. "Do have fun sorting out the continued existence of your school Mrs. Burling." He pressed the 'end' button on his mobile to terminate the call, rather missing the days of large telephones with cords that made such a satisfying sound when slammed down after a conversation such as this. Mobiles were a wonderful invention, but they lacked the dramatic impact at times that their ancestors possessed!
"Mycroft!" Rose shouted. She hopped off the chair she was sitting on and ran towards him, throwing her arms around him and holding on tight.
"Alright, enough, enough," he said after thirty seconds or so, removing her hands from around him. Holding her at arm's length, Mycroft looked her up and down, noticing a few band-aids and bits of what appeared to be… "Good god, is that gunpowder in your hair?"
Rose's eyes immediately began examining her shoes. "Yes?"
"That sounded more like a question than a response," Mycroft replied, looking at her sternly.
"Yes sir, its gunpowder," Rose replied in a tiny voice.
Mycroft's eyebrow quirked. A 'yes, sir' already, without his asking for it first? This was going to be far worse than he had anticipated. Part of him had hoped this was a simple case of a chemistry project gone horribly wrong; clearly, that was not the case. "Where's Sherlock?"
"He went to the loo. I want to go home now Mycroft and I don't want you to be very mad at us, ok? Please don't be mad?" Rose looked up at him now, an imploring look on her sweet little face.
"Have you done something that will make me angry with you?" He inwardly smiled when Rose shuffled her feet a bit before nodding miserably. "Then there's very little point in asking me not to be upset, Rose. Go back and sit down where you were and try to not to do anything naughty while I speak with the officers about taking you home," Mycroft directed. Never had he imagined having to collect a seven-year-old from police!
Sherlock reentered the room just then and Rose scurried over to him. Picking her up, Sherlock took a seat and held her on his lap.
"I'm sorry I broke the rules Sherlock," Rose whispered for what had to be the hundredth time.
"I know and I already said I wasn't mad at you," Sherlock soothed, watching as Mycroft began speaking with Officer Elbury. "It was more my fault than yours because I was too wrapped up arguing with that stupid girl and her equally stupid mother. This might not have happened had I stayed with you." He fell silent and cuddled her close, knowing that Rose was nervous about facing Mycroft and frankly, he was also.
"A what?!" Mycroft asked incredulously.
"A cannon, that's what they both said. A tiny one and I guess the little one was too excited, got a bit careless and… well… boom," Elbury said, with a shrug. "I've never heard anything like it. Granted I've not been an officer for a particularly long time, but I don't think I'll ever hear something like this again."
"At least not from those two," Mycroft said with a sigh, indicating his siblings.
"Though she did, apparently, have permission," Elbury added. "Her teacher signed off on the project, and then proceeded to tell me that he had no idea it would be a cannon with gunpowder."
Mycroft frowned. "What sort of cannon doesn't use gunpowder?" He sighed and shook his head, mentally despairing at the downfall in humanity's intelligence. "I am free to take them home, correct?"
Elbury nodded. "Yes. Good luck with them," he said sincerely. He had a feeling the eldest Holmes was going to need it.
Sherlock and Rose stood in front of the desk in their brother's study. The eighteen and seven-year-old respectively stood right next to one another, one larger hand holding a smaller one, their fingers intertwined in a show of support for one another. Sherlock remained rigidly still while Rose grew increasingly fidgety as minute after minute ticked slowly by.
Looking down at the small curly head beside him, catching Rose worrying her lip as was her usual habit. Sherlock felt an overwhelming amount of guilt fill his stomach. This was much more his fault than hers, and he knew without a doubt he'd happily take the blame for them both but was well aware Mycroft would never allow such a thing. They were in a world of trouble and not a single thing either of them said was going to make this any better.
Biting on her lip still, Rose looked up from the floor, which she had been studying with some intensity, at the eldest Holmes. Mycroft was sitting behind his desk, elbows on top of it, head in his hands, a posture rather indicative of either defeat or desperation. He'd been in that posture for a solid five minutes, as far as Rose could tell, but that five minutes had felt like hours. She squeezed Sherlock's hand, hard, not wanting to say anything out loud but in need of some reassurance just the same. It was sort of comforting, up to a point, that they were in this together, Rose thought to herself, but really, she'd prefer they not be there at all.
Finally, Rose could take the silence and anxiety no longer and turned to Sherlock, pressing her face against him and began to cry. Her big brother immediately went down on one knee and hugged her to his chest.
The sound of tears forced Mycroft to take his head out of his hands. "Come here Rose," he said, sounding and feeling tired. He opened his arms a bit for her, to signal that it was a hug and not a spanking he was summoning her too. Immediately she came to him and Mycroft picked her up, holding her in his lap.
"There's no reason to cry so hard," Mycroft said softly, mentally adding a yet to that sentence. "It's not as though I'm going to disown you Rose, Mother would never allow it even if I wanted to. Which I don't," he clarified.
"I'm very sorry!" Rose told him through her tears. She promptly pressed her face against his chest.
"I'm sure you are," he replied sincerely, rubbing her back. "And I still love you, no matter how many ridiculous and utterly stupid things you do, today included," Mycroft whispered in her ear. "Right know you need to dry your eyes and go stand by Sherlock again. You both have a great deal of explaining to do." He rolled his eyes when Rose dried her face on his shirt before doing as she was told.
"I find myself at an almost complete and utter loss to comprehend what happened today. I've been told there was a cannon, that part of the gymnasium was damaged though rather more mildly than one might have expected," Mycroft admitted. "But I know a cannon did not mysteriously materialize this morning in time for Rose's science fair."
"We made it," Rose said quietly, holding on to Sherlock's hand once again.
"We, as in not just Sherlock, but also you?" Mycroft clarified. He scowled darkly when she nodded. "And since when are you allowed to play with explosives young lady?"
Rose's face flushed as she bit her lip. "Mr. Macleod said I could do a cannon for my project," she told him quietly.
"Your idiotic teacher's permission does not supersede mine!" Mycroft thundered.
"That part really wasn't in our plan, the touching of explosives," Sherlock interrupted, not wanting Rose to shoulder the blame. "I took every possible precaution to keep Rose safe and specifically forbade her from touching the explosives at any time, but… I was detained and circumstances beyond my control arose."
An eyebrow quirked. "Every possible precaution? Every possible precaution? Pray, brother mine, tell me then how Rose managed to blow up part of gymnasium when you were taking every possible precaution to ensure her safety?"
"I planned to be with Rose when the judges came to see her project and handle all explosive materials myself during the demonstration, as I did during the building. Rose was never meant to break the 'no explosives' rule," Sherlock insisted.
Mycroft watched as Sherlock's face paled a bit as he spoke, knowing Sherlock was well aware every word he said was going to be held against him when punishment was meted out, no matter what excuses he had. "You were detained?" he repeated slowly. "It must have been quite the crisis to cause you to leave our seven-year-old sister next to enough explosives to cause a medium-sized explosion. Pray tell, what was this crisis?"
Rose looked back and forth between her brothers, watching Mycroft growing angrier and Sherlock getting more nervous, which only made her nervous.
"Well the whole event was really quite dull," Sherlock blurted out in a haughty tone. "I mean, some of the entries! One little idiot decided to do a diagram on cross pollination that was utterly appalling. Horribly dull, riddled with errors, I mean really? Who mismatches eyxlopods with porixie seeds-"
Seeing that this was going nowhere fast, Mycroft rolled his eyes and decided to cut his brother off. "Sherlock, for the sake of your continued existence, let's stay on topic. I am still waiting to hear what, in a room full of preteen children, most of whom are idiots, was so utterly captivating that any and all little common sense you may or may not possess simply fled you to the point that you left Rose. Alone. With an explosive device. Enlighten me and do it quickly!"
"I'm the one that broke the no explosives rule," Rose pointed out loudly, trying to keep Sherlock from getting in further trouble.
"Your input at this time is not necessary Rosenwyn, as it is wholly unlikely you would have broken that rule had Sherlock bothered to stay with you," Mycroft told her. "Now, Sherlock, I am still waiting and my patience is wearing precariously thin."
Sherlock let out a huff. "I was bored, and there was a smug little eleven-year-old idiot that was wrong. I might have left Rose for a moment or so to correct the student's misinformation, which was unappreciated by the idiot's large mother who was equally stupid."
Mycroft's jaw dropped and he could only stare at Sherlock for several seconds before pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a deep breath. "You left our little sister with a potentially deadly explosive device, who you know has the knowledge to use said device, to debate an eleven-year-old's science project. Is that an accurate summary of your actions, Sherlock?"
His previously pale face was now burning bright red as Sherlock cleared his throat and attempted to respond. "Well… it wasn't exactly a debate, more of-"
Mycroft slammed his hand on top of the desk. "No, Sherlock! Don't get smart with me, I am the smart one and I stand in awe of the utter stupidity of your actions!" He paused and took a deep breath to calm himself.
"Alright, here is the tale thus far. Rose wanted to build a cannon for the science fair and you asked Sherlock because you knew I'd forbid it, correct?" Mycroft asked, turning his attention to the littlest Holmes.
"Yes, sir," Rose replied, her face going red. "You never let me do fun things like that and Sherlock does so that's why I asked him."
"We've never built a cannon before!" Sherlock quickly added. "And won't build another one ever again! I don't always let her do dangerous things." There was no reason to get himself in further trouble at this point.
"Considering that she is still alive, I expect that statement is at least partially truthful," Mycroft retorted. "So, the cannon is built, transported to school this morning, Sherlock became distracted by an eleven year old and then what happened?"
Seeing that her oldest brother was only getting angrier by the detail, or least appeared to be, Rose was a bit reluctant to continue on, especially as it was her own naughtiness that came next! Biting her lip, she looked down at the carpet and shuffled her feet a bit.
Mycroft's eyebrow quirked yet again. "I'm waiting."
"Iloadedthecannonmyselfanditexploded," Rose blurted out, her face going red as she did so.
"Try again," Mycroft said with a sigh. "Slow enough that I can understand."
"I loaded the cannon myself and it exploded, because the judges were there and Sherlock hadn't come back yet. I didn't know where he was because I couldn't see over the tall people. I really wanted to win Mycroft, because then I thought people would like me better. I mean, wouldn't you like someone with a cannon?" Rose dared to look up at him.
"No, I would not like someone with a cannon, especially not you with a cannon. I assume that this is why you took leave of your senses and agreed to this scheme Sherlock?"
Sherlock nodded. "I really did plan to keep her safe, keep her from the explosives. Things just went horribly wrong. I didn't intend for any of this to happen. Neither did Rose. These were very unforeseen circumstances."
"Of course neither of you meant for this to happen nor am I saying that you did. But you, Sherlock, are supposed to be the adult, according to your age at any rate. Allowing Rose to talk you into something like this and then leaving her alone with something with the potential to explode is completely unacceptable," Mycroft lectured. "I also don't appreciate either of you doing this behind my back, purposely keeping it from me because you knew I would object. That is dishonesty and I won't tolerate it under any circumstances, but especially not when safety is a concern."
The middle Holmes could only nod, knowing now that Mycroft was right. He hated it when Mycroft was right! He dreaded the thought of what sort of punishment he'd be given for something of this magnitude.
Mycroft took a deep breath, bracing himself for the unpleasant business to come. "I think it goes without saying that you both are going to be very soundly spanked today. Since you misbehaved together every step of the way, it's really only fair that you're punished together." He knew this would be difficult for them both; having to hear the other sibling punished, especially for Sherlock, but he hoped it would make a very memorable impression.
"No, Mycroft, no!" Sherlock immediately protested. He couldn't imagine having to be in the same room while his sister cried, knowing his own choices had put them both in this position. "Please Mycroft, I-"
"I have made my decision and I frankly don't want to debate the issue with you. This is not going to be a fun day for either of you, so resign yourselves to it now," Mycroft said sternly. "Come here Rose." He pushed his chair a bit further back from his desk and motioned her over with his hand when the little girl hesitated. "Sherlock, go put your nose in the corner."
After giving Rose one last encouraging hug, Sherlock went to the corner as directed, his face flushing with embarrassment.
"Rose, do not keep me waiting, I'm not in the mood," Mycroft warned. "Come here to me, now." He watched as the little girl slowly made her way to his side and once she was there, he gently grasped her chin and lifted it so he could look into her eyes. "I love you very much Rosenwyn but there are rules for a reason and those rules are meant to be obeyed. You were very, very foolish and that is why you are being punished. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," Rose whispered. "I'm sorry My."
Mycroft nodded. "Over my knee now." He helped Rose across his lap, easily moving her so that her bottom was over his right knee then lifted her uniform skirt and pulled her pants to her knees. His left arm went around her waist, ensuring she wouldn't squirm away, and his right hand was raised in the air before landed with a heavy smack across the center of Rose's bottom. Forsaking any given pattern, Mycroft's hand fell hard and fast, peppering her tender bum with stinging spanks, paying special attention to her sit spots and upper thighs.
"Owwwww! Ouch! Ow Mycroft! Owwwww!" Rose squealed. Her hands grabbed hold of his trousers in an attempt to keep them in front of her as Mycroft set her cheeks on fire.
Smack smack smack smack smack smack smack smack. Sherlock stood in the corner, eyes closed, as if it could help to block out continual smacking sounds of Rose's spanking. It didn't work and he found himself feeling more and more miserable as the spanking went on. He should have said no and if he had, they wouldn't be here now.
Mycroft kept up a steady pace with little time between spanks. It was perhaps the hardest he'd ever spanked her, with little time between each swat and more strength behind them than he'd used before.
"Owwwwiiiiieeeee! My! My stop! Stop! I'm sorry!" Rose pleaded, beginning to cry. Her bum was hot and sore and still he kept going, his hand landing over and over on her tender bum.
Her bottom was red but Mycroft knew she could take a bit more and turned his attention to the sensitive sit spots and upper thighs. As he spanked he briefly looked over in Sherlock's direction, noting his brother's hunched posture and rigid tension within him.
Finally Rose broke down in tears, sobbing hard and squirming for all she worth to get away from Mycroft's heavy hand. She kicked her legs, causing a shoe to go flying off with her pants not far behind. "I'll be good, I'll be good!"
"I know you will, but you need to learn a good lesson right here and now over my knee," Mycroft told her. "So that you remember to be my good girl and follow the rules. Safety is non-negotiable Rosenwyn." Several more swats fell and then one tiny hand flew back. He paused long enough to catch it and hold onto it then rewarded her effort to interfere with a few light, but stinging swats to her upper thighs.
"Isn't that enough Mycroft? That's enough, she's had enough! Stop spanking her, please!" Sherlock protested from the corner. He didn't really think that Mycroft was actually injuring Rose by any means, but he wasn't sure he could take hearing her cry another minute longer.
The emotions he heard in Sherlock's voice made Mycroft pause and look over in that direction. "I'm not injuring her Sherlock and you know that," he replied, though not unkindly. "But her spanking is over," for now he added mentally. Rose's bum was a dark, painful red, radiating heat and her sobs had reached the point where even Mycroft couldn't resist the urge to soothe her.
"Alright poppet, all done," he said gently. Mycroft rubbed her back, letting her cry over his lap for a moment or so before lifting her up and hugging her as tightly as he dared. "I know that was a hard one, I know," he murmured. "You'll be alright, I promise poppet. Shhh, you'll be fine and I love you very much no matter how many ridiculous things you do." Mycroft rocked her in his arms, waiting for her tears to die down, not even saying a word as she dried her face on the shoulder of his shirt several times.
The moments he spent soothing Rose gave him time to reconsider the punishment a bit. As upset as Rose's hand spanking had made Sherlock, it dawned on Mycroft that it would be too difficult for Rose to stand in the corner and listen to Sherlock being caned. The noise the cane made might actually frighten her, he realized, and adjusted appropriately in response to that realization.
"Alright, you've had a good cuddle now," he said gently, putting Rose on her feet. "I'm not going to make you listen to Sherlock's punishment, not this first one anyway. Instead you're going to be in the corner in the sitting room and I'll come get you afterwards. Your spanking isn't done," he warned her, planning to finish up with the hairbrush. "But for now you're going to spend time reflecting in the corner. Come along Rose."
"I don't want too," Rose whimpered, clinging to his hand as he steered her into the sitting room. "I don't want the corner and I don't want any more spanking, My! I want more cuddles." She looked up at him with the saddest little look, her lower lip trembling as tears threatened to fall once more.
"I know you do and I also know you don't want to be spanked any further, but these are the consequences of your actions," Mycroft told her gently but firmly. "Now go stand in the corner like the good girl I know you are. If you tell me no," he warned. "I'll get a chair from the kitchen and you can sit for your corner time."
"No, no chair," Rose shook her head before scurrying over to the corner. Her hands crept behind her to rub her sore bum as she began sniffling once more.
After watching for a moment or so to make certain Rose would do what she was told, Mycroft returned to his study and shut the door behind him. He was surprised to see Sherlock already bent over his desk, trousers and pants at his knees. "Well done, brother mine," Mycroft said, pausing to pat Sherlock's back. He was proud that Sherlock was willing to accept his punishment and seemed to realize the grave mistakes he had made.
Crossing the room to the closet, Mycroft retrieved the cane. "As I warned Rose, this is the first portion of your spanking. There will be a second portion, during which Rose will stay in the room," he cautioned. "But considering how strongly you reacted to her spanking I didn't want to take the chance of frightening her with the cane, which is why she is having her corner time in the sitting room."
"There's more?!" Sherlock exclaimed. "But I'm getting caned what more could there be?" He couldn't help flinching as Mycroft rested the cane against his bare bottom.
"After I finish Rose's spanking, you will go over my knee and I will spank you with my hand, to emphasize the fact that you chose not to behave like an adult and put your foot down when Rose brought this whole idea to you. You are an adult in terms of the years you have been on this earth and the laws of this country, but your decision to encourage and assist Rose in breaking the rules makes a spanking across my knee seem particularly appropriate. Don't you agree?" Without waiting for an answer, Mycroft raised the cane and brought it down sharply near the crest of his cheeks.
"Argh," Sherlock growled in response to the stroke that caught him unprepared. He braced himself for the next one and took it without much noise at all, save the slight intake of breath as the might sting sunk in. It wasn't until a stroke came far too close to his sit spots for comfort that Sherlock cried out again.
"Ow!" Sherlock yelped, stomping his feet on the floor. "You're doing it harder than usual, which was already plenty hard to begin with. Stop trying to prove you're superior to me by—OW!" His protest was cut off by a searing stroke across his sit spots. It brought tears to his eyes and forced him to take a deep breath. Before he was really ready for it the seventh stroke fell, catching his sit spots once more, followed swiftly by the next two strokes across his upper thighs. "Owww aaaaah noooooooooo!" Sherlock howled through the strokes, kicking at Mycroft's desk in response to the pain when they were done.
"Being cheeky in the midst of a caning isn't a wise decision, brother mine," Mycroft reminded him sternly. "Three more Sherlock." Though he issued the warning he gave the teenager a moment or so to compose himself then brought the cane down three more times, ensuring that Sherlock would feel this punishment when he sat down for quite some time.
Sherlock's resolve fully broke on the final stroke. Resting his head against the top of the desk he gave into his tears and sobbed heavily, his shoulders shaking with the force of it. Then, without warning, he felt a hand on his back that began rubbing soothing circles. The last thing he ever expected as he embarrassingly cried was any sort of comfort from Mycroft and if anything, it made him cry harder.
"Your caning is over," Mycroft said with surprising gentleness. "You can take as long as you need to compose yourself and then return to the corner please." He continued to rub circles on his brother's back, despite the fact that he and Sherlock weren't much of the cuddling sort. Rose was exceptionally cuddly and where it came from they weren't entirely certain, but the brothers had never been that way with one another.
Oh, Mycroft had soothed Sherlock here and there over the years, like when he was two and went face first into the corner of the coffee table. Mycroft had hurriedly picked him up and carried him to the kitchen to examine the small cut on his forehead while the toddler sobbed and sobbed in the most dramatic of fashions.
Then there had been that time when Sherlock was seven and came home beaten bloody by a bully and Mycroft had gently tended to his wounds before walking the three blocks to the said bully's house and putting the fear of god in him. Being the most fearsome prefect at the school both he and Sherlock attended had had its benefits. By the time he graduated six months after that, no boy ever laid a finger on Sherlock again for the rest of his school years. He'd ensured it with threats of 'home visits', or dorm visits as the case may be, made while caning this bully or that. He heard once that one of the bullies had nightmares after the issuing of that threat and he'd been inordinately pleased about it.
While cuddles and soothing weren't necessarily a part of their relationship, Mycroft was able to soothe when the occasion called for it, as it did now. They both preferred to banter and largely pretend to hate one another instead, no matter how dysfunctional people thought it might be. "It can't be very comfortable like that," Mycroft commented as he continued to rub Sherlock's back.
Sherlock didn't respond, but his curls shook as he indicated he had no desire to move just then, so Mycroft continued to rub his back slowly and gently for another moment until Sherlock started to rise. "Alright, back to the corner with you. You can pull up your pants and trousers if you wish, or not if you wish." After squeezing Sherlock's shoulder and leaving him to sort himself out, Mycroft exited the study to retrieve Rose.
"That is a very, very good girl," Mycroft praised upon seeing she was still standing in the corner. "My good poppet." He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly, her sad little face tugging at his heart strings.
"No more spanking," Rose said in a tiny voice before pressing her face into the crook of his neck. "No more, I'm sorry My."
Mycroft kissed the top of her head. "I know poppet, but you were exceptionally naughty and I have to respond appropriately. That naughty bottom of yours still needs to learn a bit more before we're done." He patted the bottom in question meaningfully.
"It's sorry too," she squeaked.
"Come again?" Mycroft requested.
Rose sniffled and lifted her face so he could hear her. "It's sorry too. My bottom, it's sorry it was naughty, and I'm sorry, and Sherlock is too. We're all very sorry and don't want any more spankings."
Good lord, this child was going to be the death of him, Mycroft thought to himself. That had to be the cutest thing Rose had ever said and he wanted more than anything to give in to her, but knew he couldn't. "Come on, let's get the spankings finished, hm?" He scooped her up, noticing that she whined just a bit at the pressure of his arm under her bum, and carried her back into his study.
"You're going to go over my knee again Rosenwyn, for a dozen swats with the hairbrush and then your spanking will be over," Mycroft explained. He sat in the chair and put her face down over his lap once again before reaching for the desk drawer to retrieve the hairbrush, cringing when Rose started crying at the sight of it. He should have got it out before going to retrieve her, but he hadn't thought about it.
"Nooooo! Don't want that! My, please!" Rose cried, putting both hands behind her to protect her backside from the nasty brush. "I'm sorry and my bottom is sorry, no more!" Kicking and wiggling accompanied her protests, which seemed rather overly dramatic to Mycroft's ears, who knew she had received more than that in the past.
Instead of responding to her Mycroft took her hands and moved them to the small of her back before flipping up her skirt to bare her bottom and raised the brush. He didn't put much force behind the swats, aiming for sting more than anything, snapping it down across her sit spots, one to each side.
"Owwwieeee!" Rose sobbed. "Ow!" She shifted her hips and kicked her feet, trying to move her sore bum out of the way. The hairbrush still found it every time, despite her best efforts, and soon her sit spots, upper thighs, and her cheeks sported stinging bright red ovals.
By the time the dozen mild swats were over, though Mycroft knew she did not think they were mild, Rose was sobbing hard. Despite his best efforts to remain stern, her tears went straight to his heart. Immediately he turned her over in his lap to cuddle her close and, before he could stop himself, he began to rub some of the sting from her bottom. "Shhh, it's all over now poppet. No more spanking, it's all over. You were such a brave girl," he murmured. "I'm very proud of you Rose. Such a very good girl."
"Promise?" Rose asked, looking up at him with a tear streaked face after a few minutes had passed. "No more spanking? And I'm good again?"
"No more spanking," Mycroft confirmed, hugging her tightly. "And you are always a good girl. It's your choices or behavior that are naughty, not you. My poppet is a good girl. Are you calmed down now? It's Sherlock's turn to have his spanking be done and I want you to go stand in the corner where he is now. Can you do that for me?"
"Does Sherlock have to have more spanking too?" Rose asked, looking sad on Sherlock's behalf. When Mycroft nodded firmly and set her on her feet, Rose ran over to her brother and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm sorry you got in trouble too," she told Sherlock.
"No, it's not your fault," Sherlock assured her, stroking her curls with one hand while he rubbed her arm with the other. "Don't worry about it, alright? We were both at fault, not just you."
Mycroft allowed them a moment to cuddle together before calling Sherlock back over. "Over my knee," he instructed Sherlock, only to receive a scandalized look in reply.
"Mycroft," Sherlock hissed. "I'm not a child and I'm not going over your knee. That's ridiculous."
"You may be a legal adult based on the laws of this country and the number of years you've been on this earth, but your actions were not those of an adult and so I find this to be a very fitting way to end your punishment. Trousers and pants down and over my lap now or you can bend over the desk for the hairbrush instead," Mycroft warned.
The two brothers stared at each other for a moment as Sherlock weighed his options. Ultimately he chose to go over Mycroft's knee, preferring the hand to the hairbrush, and pushed his clothing down once more. Bending across Mycroft's lap was rather awkward and Sherlock scowled when he realized how easily his brother could still move him to where his bottom was in a more vulnerable position for spanking. "How many?" he finally asked, forcing himself to keep his voice steady. He had never been spanked over cane stripes before!
"Two dozen ought to do it," Mycroft decided. "Keep your hands in front of you." He raised his hand, mentally noting that his arm was going to be quite sore when he finished, and brought it down hard across the center of Sherlock's bottom.
Gasping at the sting and already feeling tears in his eyes, Sherlock couldn't help but squirm in response. "Ow! Ow! Argh, Mycroft!" he yelped and grunted as the spanking got under way. It wasn't long before he too broke down in tears, finding that a hand spanking on top of cane stripes was very painful indeed.
A loud sob suddenly grabbed their attention and Mycroft paused the spanking briefly to look over at Rose. She was still in the corner, crying because her beloved big brother was crying. "Don't spank him anymore!" she called out. "It was all my fault, I broke the school, and I broke the rules, all my fault!" When it became clear that no one was listening to her and the spanking was resumed, Rose promptly kicked the wall and then yelped in pain. "Ow, ow, my toes hurt owie!"
"Yes, that tends to be what happens when you kick the wall. You are seven, not two, and we don't kick walls Rosenwyn," Mycroft scolded. He could hear Sherlock chuckle a bit even through his tears.
"Make it better My!"
"I'm rather busy at the mo-" Mycroft paused as something occurred to him. "Causing yourself injury in an attempt to get me to tend those injuries will not make me stop spanking Sherlock. If that is your plan, you will cease and desist immediately." He smirked a bit when Rose stood up straight in the corner and went quiet, aside from her sniffles.
"Alright, halfway there," Mycroft told Sherlock. Wanting to get it over with quickly, he peppered Sherlock's bottom with swats, avoiding the more sensitive sit spots and upper thighs, wringing a bit more crying out of Sherlock before it was over. "Alright, we're done," he told Sherlock, patting his brother's back a bit. "You can get up when-" Before Mycroft could even finish his sentence, Rose ran towards them, throwing her arms around him.
"This is very awkward," Sherlock muttered. He appreciated Rose's efforts to soothe him, but he was still half naked over Mycroft's lap, which wasn't the best cuddle position the world had ever known.
"Rosenwyn Aramantha are you trying to get another spanking? You know exactly how corner time works; get your bottom back in that corner or it'll go back over my knee!"
It was an idle threat but Rose didn't know that and hurried back to the corner. "I just wanted to cuddle Sherlock, because he's very sad!"
"And I just want you to obey because I am very exhausted," Mycroft responded. He sighed heavily before helping Sherlock up from his lap, giving his brother a moment to right his clothing before releasing the woeful little prisoner from the corner.
Rose made a beeline for Sherlock, who knelt down to catch her. "No more sorries," Sherlock told her in a firm but gentle tone. "There's no more sorries from either of us, alright? We had our spankings from mean, mean Mycroft and now it's all over."
"Well, not quite," Mycroft interrupted. Two identical horrified looks were thrown in his direction. "Both of you go upstairs and put your pajamas on then report to the kitchen. You're going to write lines, sitting on those sore bottoms of yours. If you don't put up a fuss, I'll let you both have pillows for your chairs."
Sherlock and Rose immediately fell silent and scurried from the study to find their pajamas.
Two hours of squirming and groaning in discomfort later, Sherlock was finished with his lines. While he would normally never deign to write lines for Mycroft, he had chosen to be a good role model for Rose and do it with a minimal amount of fuss, not wanting either of them to get swatted for getting up from their chairs or being uncooperative.
Rose, quite predictably, fell asleep thirty minutes into her line writing. She had a habit of falling asleep after a sound spanking and a good cry but Mycroft let her sit in the chair and sleep until Sherlock finished his lines. It wouldn't hurt her to sleep that way for a while and he wasn't going to give her an out while Sherlock had to sit on his caned bum. He had no doubt that Rose's bottom was still quite sore as well, having watched her make little whining noises every so often and squirm a bit in the chair while she slept.
Sherlock pushed the notebook and pencil towards Mycroft and tried to shake the cramps from his hand.
"Your penmanship is deplorable as always," Mycroft commented after looking at Sherlock's lines. "But you're finished." He couldn't help but smirk a bit as Sherlock shot out of the chair. "I appreciate you being cooperative," he said sincerely, referencing the line writing.
Shrugging, Sherlock looked at his sleeping sister and sighed. "All worn out, it's been a hard day," he murmured. "Are you going to tuck her in bed or am I?"
"You can if you'd like," Mycroft offered. He smiled when Sherlock nodded and gently retrieved Rose from her chair, waking her a bit in the process.
"Didn't get up," she murmured without opening her eyes.
"No, you didn't," Sherlock confirmed with a chuckle. "You didn't stay awake though either. Mycroft should have known better, you're always very sleepy after a spanking." He pressed a kiss to her head, smiling as she snuggled closer.
Entering her room Sherlock pulled back the duvet and laid her down on her tummy. "Let's get you tucked in tight, hm?"
"No," Rose replied, her eyes opening for a brief second.
"No?" Sherlock repeated. "What's no?"
"You."
That was an unhelpful answer if he ever heard one. "I'm no?"
Rose nodded, the movement jostling her curls, but said nothing else.
Luckily for her, Sherlock knew his baby sister very well and it didn't take him more than a few seconds after her nod to figure out what she wanted. Moving her over a bit in the bed, Sherlock stretched out on his stomach before pulling the duvet over them both and wrapping an arm around Rose. "Yes?" he asked.
She nodded again and snuggled as close as she possibly could. "Love you," Rose murmured.
Sherlock kissed her cheek. "I love you too," he said softly, beginning to rub her back. "But no more cannons. Ever."
"No cannons," she agreed. "Or kicking walls."
"That too," Sherlock chuckled. Once he was certain Rose was asleep, he closed his eyes and followed suit, putting an early end to a very a long day.