It had been an exhausting nine days, Maud reflected as the sleek black car pulled into the driveway of the townhouse. She had been very determined to go to a conference in Russia, unwilling to delegate the reading of her paper to anyone else. It was only supposed to be a five day trip; one there, three at the conference, one back. Weather and bomb threats, however, had a habit of derailing even the best laid plans. And with sick children awaiting her at home, and an increasing tired Mycroft keeping watch over them, it had been quite the trial to wait around Moscow for all impediments to her travel to be removed.
Taking her suitcase from the backseat of the car, she trudged up the front steps and unlocked the front door. The house was eerily silent and still and it felt as though illness was hanging in the air. Having sick people in a house always gave it a certain atmosphere that was difficult to describe but one knew it when they saw or felt it.
Hauling her suitcase upstairs, Maud deposited it in her room before going to check on the children, starting with her littlest. Carefully she opened the door of Rose's room and peeked in, finding the little girl sleeping. She crossed the room and sat down gently on the bed, putting her hand to Rose's forehead to check for fever. Rose felt cool, meaning she was on the mend and Maud let out a sigh of relief. It had been agony to be so far away when her babies needed her. As she moved to tuck the blankets more tightly around Rose, she noticed that a dressing gown sash was tied to the headboard. That seemed quite strange.
Her curiosity peaked, Maud looked for the other end of the sash, which appeared to be tied to something else since it wasn't hanging loosely on the floor. With her hand she followed the sash and saw it disappeared under the covers. This was very strange indeed! Moving the duvet aside slightly, Maud found the other end of the sash was tied around Rose's chest, the knot apparently behind the little girl's back.
"Mummy?"
The tiny voice momentarily interrupted Maud's utter confusion as she gave her little one a smile "Hello Baby," she murmured before leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Are you feeling a little better?"
Rose nodded. "I'm glad you're home Mummy, I missed you and Mycroft doesn't rub my tummy the right way when it feels icky."
"I'm so sorry I wasn't home Baby, but I'm here now! I'll give you all the tummy rubs you need and even some you don't," she offered with a smile before she frowned in thought. "My love, why are you tied up in your bed?"
The little girl blushed. "Don't want to say," she said softly. A finger traced the pattern on her duvet as she steadily avoided Maud's gaze.
"Mummy won't be mad at you Baby," Maud promised.
Rose let out a soft sigh, slowly dragging her eyes back to look at her mother. "Mycroft told me if I didn't stay in bed he was going to tie me to my bed so I had to stay in it."
To say Maud was surprised would be putting it very mildly indeed. Mycroft was certainly not the one that she would suspect of tying his baby sister to her bed! Though why Sherlock would Maud wasn't sure either, but of her two boys, he was the far more likely to do something like this and have a perfectly silly explanation for it. Something along the lines of 'Oh, it was only a game Mother!' with Rose chiming in her agreement to save him from a scolding or possible spanking. But Mycroft? Mycroft?! This simply did not make sense!
"Turn over for Mummy," Maud instructed, getting up from the bed. As soon as Rose rolled onto her tummy she undid the knot that secured the long dressing gown tie around the little girl's chest, followed by the knot on the headboard. Now that she was looking at it, it did look like Mycroft's own dressing gown tie…
"Sweetheart, you wouldn't lie to Mummy, would you? To try and get Mikey in trouble?" Maud questioned.
Her littlest baby shook her head emphatically no. "I'm telling the truth Mummy, it really was My! He was very angry with me," Rose admitted, her face beginning to blush. "Did I just get Mycroft in trouble? Mummy, I don't want to make him be in trouble!"
"Oh no my dear, you did nothing of the sort," the Holmes matriarch hurried to assure Rose. "Mycroft managed it all by himself. Why don't you take Teddy downstairs and put in a movie for yourself, alright? I'll be down soon and watch with you."
"And rub my tummy?" Rose asked hopefully.
Maud nodded and brushed her fingers through her daughter's curls. "Of course Baby." Upon hearing her agreement, Rose threw her arms around her mother and nestled close. She took a deep breath, or tried to, of Maud's perfume, finding it comforting, but was only able to smell a tiny bit before coughing once more.
"Alright, go downstairs now," Maud said after a moment. "We'll have more cuddles soon, alright?" She watched with a smile as Rose left her room and headed for the stairs. The smile left her face however as she began searching for her eldest son. Considering that Mycroft hadn't immediately come to greet her at the door meant that it was unlikely he was anywhere downstairs. Even if he had been busy in his study, she would have heard him in there.
Exiting Rose's room, Maud made her way towards Mycroft's. She knocked loudly on the door, waited a moment or so, and then entered. The room was darkened by the blinds and her son appeared to be just waking up.
"Mother?" Mycroft called from the bed. "You arrived safely I see, I…"
Maud wasted no time on the pleasantries and got straight to the point. "Mycroft Edwin Darcy Holmes, did you tie your baby sister to her bed with your very own dressing gown tie?!" Her eyes narrowed when Mycroft did not immediately deny the charge and she began to tap her foot impatiently.
"I did, yes," Mycroft finally replied. He was exhausted; so much so that he couldn't even summon the stamina to sound indignant.
"Mycroft, how could you? She is little and ill! What if she needed the loo? Or what if there was a fire? What in the world was going on in that head of yours?!" Maud demanded.
"If she had truly tugged on the knot securing the tie to the headboard it would have given way and allowed to her escape fire or whatever else she might need to do," Mycroft stated.
"That is no excuse Mycroft! Why would you even find such an idea acceptable?"
Mycroft gave his mother a hard look. "Do you have any idea what the past few days have been like? I promise you, it was perfectly reasonable!"
"Was it really now?" Maud challenged, hands on her hips. "Please, eldest son, tell me how in the world you define this as perfectly reasonable because my definition does not consider it so!"
Six Days Prior
Mycroft Holmes found himself wondering more and more often just what sort of world they all lived in. Delicate trade agreements; arguments over arming this faction or that faction in one particularly chaotic region or another were just the beginning of the things that caused him to wonder at the world he worked so hard to keep from imploding. Then there were questions of why the prime minister shook this man's hand 4.5 seconds longer than that other man's and does that mean the UK likes Israel more than Pakistan, or why did that get to speak three minutes longer than the other and who got the cheese tray first at the Parliament luncheon. So trivial and banal, yet so very telling about the sort of chaotic and selfish mess the world was hurling towards. He mentally mused whether or not the world agreed with him, considering the downfall of rain of as of late. Was it weeping for the general deterioration of mankind as much as he metaphorically did?
Thus it was always a relief to go home at the end of the day, where it was a rare day instead that he wondered what the world was coming to while at home. Except today, apparently, was going to be one of those rare days, as evidenced by the sight that greeted him as he drove slowly down the street towards the townhouse. What first appeared to be people having far too much fun waving their umbrellas around uselessly soon revealed itself to be a situation much more complex and far more inexplicable than that. So inexplicable, in fact, that Mycroft was forced to stop the car and stare at it before the situation could be fully grasped.
There by the curb were two sets of bouncy pigtails, one dark and one red, belonging to very energetic little girls who were hopping on and off the curb, jumping and kicking in the puddles alongside the curb, waving their umbrellas in what seemed to be too coordinated of an effort to be a spontaneous burst of dancing. The umbrellas seemed to serve little use as anything other than props, considering how soaked the two girls looked their suits pasted to their bodies in that way only thoroughly soaked clothing can.
Mycroft frowned and blinked a few times. Suits? That couldn't possibly be right. Yet, sure enough, they were in fact wearing suits, with no hats on their heads or shoes on their feet, soaked to the bone on an October day with a temperature of merely 10 degrees Celsius.
Groaning loudly at the sight before him Mycroft put the car back in gear and proceeded carefully down the street to park in the driveway of the Holmes townhouse and it was only then that he spotted the third member of the trio, who had had no doubt would be close by and somehow participating in this lunatic attempt to… to… Well if he was honest with himself he really had no idea what this nonsense was about at all. But sure enough, there was Sherlock, sitting across the street in a neighbor's yard with a video camera pointed at the exuberant little girls.
As he pulled the car into the drive, the two girls turned towards him and began waving happily at him, clearly pleased with themselves and whatever it was they were attempting to do. "Is there no common sense to be found among the lot of you?!" Mycroft bellowed as he stepped out of his car. "Get inside the house this minute! SHERLOCK! Don't you even think about sneaking off," he added. The flush of red on his brother's face told him that Sherlock had been at least contemplating that very thing and Mycroft felt satisfied that he had called him on it.
Opening the front door of the townhouse he stepped inside and moved out of the way for his soaked siblings, and Louise, to come inside. "It is October; it's chilly and raining, what in the world were you three doing out there?" Mycroft demanded, hands on his hips.
"We were making a present for Mummy!" Rose chirped, still grinning.
The red pigtails bounced as Louise nodded her agreement and then added, "We were recreating the Singin' in the Rain bit from her favorite movie."
"Only we couldn't tap because I couldn't find my shoes and it would look silly if Louise had shoes and I didn't, so we decided not to tap and have bare feet," Rose went on. "But we were doing very well Mycroft, Mummy will be so excited for her birthday because she loves that movie so much and she loves when I dance!"
"Except now you're both soaked to the bone and likely to get sick! At least Gene Kelly had the common sense to wear shoes and a hat and film in a studio backlot," Mycroft ground out. "And you sanctioned this Sherlock?"
Sherlock shrugged a bit. "It's a lovely idea Mycroft. Mother will in fact enjoy it."
"She will not enjoy it when you all die of pneumonia in two weeks time! Now you girls go upstairs and take off those wet clothes while I run a bath in Mother's en suite," Mycroft directed. "Louise, I'm calling your mother and Rose, you had best find your tap shoes because they were not cheap and someone is going to be a very sorry little girl if I have to replace them!"
Just as the girls turned to scurry upstairs and do as they were told for once, it suddenly dawned on Mycroft why the suits they had donned in their Gene Kelly impersonation attempt looked so familiar… because they were his. "Stop right where you are Rosenwyn Holmes!" he ordered.
The two six-year-olds he had mentally labeled Double and Trouble, because they were, stopped in their tracks and turned around slowly to face a very angry looking Mycroft. "Why are you wearing my suits, Rosenwyn? Do we take things in this house that don't belong to us?"
Rose began shuffling her feet just a bit before responding. "Well… I don't have any suits My, and you have lots and lots of them. I didn't think you'd miss them very much."
"Don't worry Mr. Holmes, we made sure we took old ones before we cut them," Louise volunteered.
"Before you WHAT?!" Mycroft took hold of Rose's arm and pulled her over to him in order to inspect the trouser leg. He knelt to look at them and, sure enough, the legs had been cut haphazardly in order to keep from dragging under Rose's feet.
"It's an old one My. You haven't worn it in ages and ages and it was way far back in your closet," Rose said quietly, as she watched his face go red. "I didn't think you'd mind very much and Lou agreed with me."
"I did," Louise chirped. "We discussed it very thoroughly."
Mycroft took a deep breath, willing himself not to shout at Rose. "Rosenwyn… I wore that suit yesterday," he finally said.
Rose went pale, her eyes growing wide with alarm. "… Oh," she whispered.
"Oh indeed," Mycroft replied ominously. Before Rose could think to run off, he tightened his hold on her arm and pulled her towards him.
"No, no, My no!" Rose protested. She did her best to wiggle away but Mycroft soon had her tucked under his left arm while his right hand fell hard on her bottom.
"We. Do. Not. Take. Things. That. Don't. Belong. To. Us." The eldest Holmes emphasized each word with a searing swat, made all the more harsh for the fact that Rose was very wet indeed.
"Ow ow ow!" she squealed. A spanking a wet bottom hurt loads more than a regular spanking!
Mycroft released her after that brief lecture and pinned her with a very stern look as Rose stood there, rubbing the sting from her bum. "Consider that the opening act of the spanking you're going to get for ruining my suits! Now go upstairs and get out of those clothes while I run your bath." He couldn't help but notice, with some satisfaction, that both little girls put their hands protectively over their bottoms before running up the staircase.
It was Sherlock who next felt himself under scrutiny as he stood there still dripping wet on the carpet of the entry way. "In my defense, they'd already cut your suits before I heard even a peep about their idea for Mother's birthday present. It was a very thoughtful and creative present and I wasn't going to let them stay out for a very great length of time," he explained.
"Any length of time spent outside, soaked to the skin in October is too long Sherlock!" Mycroft's tone was laced with exasperation. "Go get out of those clothes and get into the shower. The last thing I want to tell Mother when she calls this evening is that you and Rose are both desperately ill. Consider yourself grounded from experiments for the next 48 hours."
Sherlock looked completely aghast. "Forty-eight hours?! Mycroft, that's too long, you know I have things that I'm working on and they can't wait that long."
"Then perhaps you should have been paying more attention to those experiments and less time making a recording of Rose and Louise giving a demonstration of how to catch pneumonia without really trying," Mycroft responded in a stern tone. "I will make it 72 hours if I hear even the tiniest note of complaint from you. Now go upstairs!"
With an epic pout, Sherlock stomped all the way upstairs and slammed the bathroom door behind him.
"Mycroft, I'm so sorry," Eleanor said. She tried very hard to sound sincere but was nearly doubled over with laughter at the thought of the little girls cutting his trouser legs and dancing in the rain. "They're just precious aren't they? Little darlings."
"Oh yes… precious," Mycroft ground out, a look of pain on his face.
"Oh, I'm sorry, truly," Eleanor tried again. "Of course Andrew and I will pay for a new suit. Those trousers are beyond repair unless you feel like walking round with a seam across your knee. I imagine that you'd prefer not to."
Mycroft cocked an eyebrow. "Quite." He could just see in his peripheral vision the two little girls peeking around the corner of the hallway, uncertain if they should draw attention to themselves or go back to hiding from him.
"Louise Christine Gardiner, come here and apologize to Mycroft for ruining his suit," Eleanor said firmly. "I know you know better than that."
The two girls look at one another and reached for each other's hands before emerging fully from the hallway. "Sorry Mr. Holmes. We really didn't think you'd mind," Louise said shyly, her face nearly as red as her hair. "I'm sorry I cut your suit."
"That's very nice," Eleanor praised, giving her daughter an encouraging nod. "Now give Mycroft a hug."
The little girls looked at the woman with wide eyes. "Mummy, Mr. Holmes doesn't like hugs," Louise said in a loud whisper.
"Louise, everybody likes hugs," Eleanor laughed. "Give him a hug and then we're going."
Mycroft's eyebrow rose. "Really that's-" Before he could even complete his protest, the redheaded six-year-old threw her arms around him and repeated her apology. He scrunched up his face in displeasure but patted her head awkwardly and murmured, "Apology accepted."
After seeing Louise and her mother to the front door he turned back towards Rose, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest. Mycroft watched as her gaze immediately went to the floor. Within seconds all her other 'I'm in trouble' habits appeared: the shuffling feet and biting her lower lip. The silence filled the entry as he watched her squirm, before finally speaking.
"Oh Rose," Mycroft sighed. "You are the most mind-boggling child and sometimes I have absolutely no idea what to do with you." He rubbed his hand over his face and let out another sigh.
"I know," Rose said in a tiny voice.
"And what is your suggestion then?" Mycroft enquired.
Rose raised her head up to look at him and said, "Just love me. That is all."
Mycroft rolled his eyes but uncrossed his arms and held them out for her. Predictably, Rose launched herself at him and he was forced to catch her before she fell onto the floor. He held her close, letting her wrap little arms around his neck. "Did your bath warm you up sufficiently? Or do you require hot liquids? I am going to be extremely displeased if you end up deathly ill after today's little escapade."
"I can't choose if I get sick or not," Rose reminded him. "But I'll try not to. I think I'm all warmed up, but if we have some soup left from yesterday I would like some, please. Then I will be very warm inside and out!"
"I suppose I could manage to heat some up for you," Mycroft agreed as he carried her in the direction of the kitchen. "Just keep in mind that this is only delaying the bottom warming you've earned."
"My!" Rose whined, cuddling closer. "It was for a very good cause. For Mummy!"
"There are plenty of other things you could do for Mother's birthday that do not require cutting my suit trousers or prancing around barefoot in the rain, soaked to the skin in October," Mycroft scolded lightly. "That is certainly not what I pay extravagant sums of money for you to do with what you learn at dance lessons." When they entered the kitchen he set Rose on her feet before locating the soup in the fridge.
"Louise and I didn't finish. We were very close, but then you drove by and ruined it," Rose informed him, a hint of exasperation in her tone. "You're not going to let us finish it, are you?" She gave him a Sherlock-worthy pout, hoping it would change his mind but knowing in all likelihood that it wouldn't. He was, after all, Mycroft.
"Of course not!" Mycroft replied, returning her look with a frown. "And no amount of pouting will cause me to change my mind. I will, however, help you find something else for Mother that is related to her very favorite film. Will that do as the next best option?"
"I suppose. How soon is Mummy coming home from Russia? Someday I want to go with her and hear all about the important things she writes," Rose commented. "She's very smart isn't she?"
"Mother is indeed very smart," Mycroft confirmed as he warmed up the soup in the microwave. "And you will never go to Russia if I can possibly help it. I'd prefer Mother didn't go either." Russia could be such a volatile country at times! "Mother will be home in two days, which gives us plenty of time to order her something and have it sent us in time for her birthday. Now eat up and then we have business to take care of."
Thirty minutes later Rose dragged her little feet off towards Mycroft's study with her brother close behind. She had taken just as long as she possibly could to eat but finally all her soup was gone and there was no reason to defer her coming punishment.
"Rose you're not facing an execution," the eldest Holmes pointed out. "Pick up your feet and walk properly, if you please."
"Maybe I don't please!" Rose retorted.
Lovely, Mycroft thought to himself. It was going to be one of those days where she would throw a strop of epic proportions and merely get herself into more trouble rather than stave off the spanking entirely.
"That's entirely too much attitude from a little girl about to go over my knee," Mycroft said firmly. Entering the study, he immediately went to sit in his desk chair, pushing it back a bit from the desk and waved her over to him. Rose didn't budge, and he could tell she was debating between being cooperative and having a tantrum.
"Rosenwyn, stop dallying and come here," Mycroft said sternly. "This honestly can't come as much of a surprise to you, considering what you did and the fact that I've warned you this was coming several times since I interrupted your little reenactment. Now come here."
"Don't want to," Rose huffed. "You're mean and awful. I was just trying to make a present for Mummy!"
"Cutting up my suit trousers did not have to be involved in your present making scheme, nor do I think Mother would appreciate your destruction of my property being attributable to her gift," he pointed out. He watched as her eyes darted back and forth between him and the door, as if she was calculating the chances of escape.
Mycroft raised an eyebrow at her. "If you make me hunt you all over this house I will spank you every single night for a week with Mother's spoon. Do you want that? I don't think I would if I were you." It was an idle threat for the most part, though it wouldn't be the first time someone in the Holmes household had such a punishment. Sherlock was so unmanageable as a child! He still was in all honesty.
He was pleased to see Rose move closer to him and further away from the door. "You are trying my patience young lady. Come here Rosenwyn, right now, or I'm going to start counting…. One… Two…" Just before he said 'three' Rose stomped all the way over to his desk. Mycroft rolled his eyes at her dramatics but chose not to comment on it; it really hadn't been that big of a strop after all. "Rosenwyn, why are you going to get a spanking? And before you even think about it, the correct response is not because I am 'mean' or any other adjectives you may be contemplating."
Rose's face flushed, indicating she had been thinking along those very lines. "Because I cut up your trouser legs and was playing in the rain in October," she answered glumly.
"We don't damage the property of others in this house, do we young lady?"
She shook her head no and, finding it difficult to maintain eye contact with him, began staring at the floor.
"Alright then, over my knee and we'll get this done with," Mycroft instructed. He helped Rose over his lap and adjusted her so that her bottom was directly over his right knee. Lifting her nightgown out of the way, Mycroft pulled her pants down to her knees, ignoring the sniffling that commenced. He rested his palm on her bottom, disconcerted yet again that it covered nearly the whole of it. Rose was so tiny and delicate and he hated making her cry, even when it was a well deserved spanking like this one.
With an inward sigh, he raised his right hand and brought it down sharply across the center of her cheeks a few times before picking up a rhythm and systematically spanking each globe from crest to crease.
Rose never really felt the need to be stoic and thus made no attempts to do so. "Ow! Ow My! Owowowowow!" she protested. It wasn't very long at all before she began twisting and squirming, attempting to move her bottom out of harm's way and was, as always, disconcerted when that did not work.
"We do not take things that don't belong to us and destroy them," Mycroft lectured, emphasizing certain words with sharp swats to her sit spots. He cringed as she yelped in response to the attention that tender area was receiving, but didn't allow it to deter him. "That is disrespectful and rude and not allowed. And for another thing, you're not allowed to play with scissors!" That last was said with a volley of hearty swats to her cheeks.
"Owwwwiiiiieeee!" Rose cried out. She added kicking to her efforts to escape as tears started streaking down her face.
"Don't you remember that lesson Rose? You and Louise both are not allowed to play with scissors because you do naughty things with them!" Mycroft continued on with his scolding. Last time it had been their hair they had cut, this time his trouser legs, god only knew what they might decide to attack with scissors next time!
It was getting harder and harder to block out the sound of her distress. Her bottom had gone from pale to lightly pink and was tending towards red now and Rose was crying steadily. Time to finish up then, he decided. Raising his hand a little higher and adding more of a snap to his wrist, he amped up the spanking a notch, adding to the color of her cheeks.
"Sorry, I'm sorry, sorry, I'll be good!" Rose pleaded, throwing her little hands behind her.
Mycroft pushed them away and turned his attention to her upper thighs. A dozen good smacks to that tender area and Rose was sobbing heavily, almost limp over his lap, her tiny hands grasping his trouser leg for dear life. Immediately he ended the spanking and began the soothing, his hand rubbing circles on her back. "Alright Rose, all done. We're all done and you're forgiven, I promise. Shhh, you'll be alright," he assured her.
When Rose's sobs abated just a bit Mycroft gently pulled her pants back up and let her nightgown fall back into place before gathering her in his arms for a cuddle. "There there, you'll be alright. I love you very much, do you know that?" Mycroft asked in a soothing tone. "Even when you do very ridiculous things I love you and always will. I know you'll make better choices next time and leave any and all scissors alone, won't you?"
Rose's face was pressed against his shoulder, her tears wetting the fabric. She gave a brief nod, evident by the shifting of her curls and the brief movement he could feel. "'m sorry My, 'm sorry," she whimpered, still crying softly. "I'll buy you a new suit and everything and it really, really hurts!"
"I know it hurts," Mycroft said softly, beginning to rock her in his arms. "It'll feel better by morning, poppet. You're my very good girl. Are you sleepy?" he asked as her tears slowed down. "Should we go upstairs and rock?"
Another little nod and tousle of curls indicated she liked that idea.
"Don't tell Sherlock," he whispered conspiratorially.
"Will he make fun of you?" Rose asked. She turned her face away from his shoulder just a bit as she waited for his answer.
"Probably," Mycroft admitted. "But I'll risk it, just for you." Cradling her in his arms, trying to keep as much pressure off her sore bottom as he could, the eldest Holmes carried the littlest upstairs to her room. The rocking chair that had featured so prominently in her nursery had remained in the little girl's room, a favorite place for a cuddles and story time.
Sitting down in the rocking chair, Mycroft settled her on his lap, expertly positioning her for maximum cuddle and minimal discomfort for her well-spanked bottom. Rose snuggled against his chest, one hand holding on to his waistcoat and within moments was fast asleep. Mycroft continued to hold her and rock her for another fifteen minutes before tucking her into bed. "Sleep well poppet," he whispered before kissing her cheek. After fondly brushing her unruly curls from her face, he quietly exited the room.
Barely had twenty-four hours passed before Rose began to show signs that she was coming down with something. Her normally sunny nature was shed in favor of being cranky and sluggish, with intermittent spurts of coughing. Having already been warned by Mycroft that he would be displeased if she became ill, Rose tried to hide the coughing and upset stomach and managed to do so until the night before Maud was due home. Unfortunately for Rose, she wasn't very good at hiding it from Sherlock, who knew her all too well.
"Rose, if you're sick we need to tell Mycroft so he can take you to the doctor. They never pay any attention to me because I don't have proper paperwork," Sherlock explained. Being seventeen was particularly trying at times such as these because Mother couldn't submit the legal paperwork necessary to allow him to make medical decisions should such an emergency arise. Though this was not yet an emergency, but he was growing concerned as the coughing fits started coming more frequently and sounded both wet and raspy at the same time.
"Don't tell him Sherlock, he's going to be mad at me and I don't want him to be mad," Rose explained with a pout as she snuggled in his arms. "And Mummy will be home tomorrow and she won't be mad at me if I'm sick."
Sherlock sighed heavily and wrapped his arms tightly around her "The cough syrup hasn't been helping much and you've been very sleepy the past day. We really should tell Mycroft and I don't think he will be angry with you. Or with me." He, too, had begun coughing and neglected to tell their eldest brother who was conveniently kept busy until late at night with work. That made it all too easy for them both to slip by his notice.
Rose promptly burst into tears, pressing her face against his chest. "Yes, he will, he will! I don't wanna get a spanking Sherlock! I want to wait for Mummy, please!"
Rubbing her back gently, Sherlock sighed. She hadn't been running much of a fever and hadn't yet coughed anything up, so it wouldn't really hurt to wait until morning. Mother was due back early and would undoubtedly cosset Rose to her heart's content and keep Mycroft from scolding. "Shh, alright, alright, we'll wait for Mother," he soothed.
The world and their illness, however, began to conspire against them and their beleaguered eldest brother…