Mrs. Holmes [Book III]

Picnic Panic {Susanna}

July

"Ov' thewe!" Rosie tugs on my jeans and points to a shady spot under one of the oaks in the park.

"You think we should put our stuff there?"

"Yes, Aunt Zuzu!" I chuckle.

"Alright, that's where we'll set up for the picnic then, Rosie. Lead on," She squeals with glee and skips happily along. William babbles after her, "Don't worry, honey, she's not going far." I kiss his cheek and he gurgles happily, reaching for my hair again.

"Remind me why you invited Mycroft of all people to this picnic?" Sherlock inquires, directly into my ear. While I'm carrying William in my arms with my purse and the diaper bag, he's transporting the baskets and blankets. John is behind us, toting a cooler that he insisted we have for the beverages.

"Darling, he's your brother and William's uncle and he doesn't see him very often. Plus I thought it would be good for him to loosen up and enjoy fresh air."

"And when did you start minding my brother's health?"

"Gah! Sherlock, it's not that big a deal. He's coming and I promise he's not coming to torment you. Capiche?"

"Very well. I suppose it is only natural that William should bond with Mycroft."

"Besides, Greg and Molly and Brooklyn are going to be here too. It's not like you're stuck with just him."

"Mmm." I roll my eyes at him as we meet a jittery Rosie at our chosen picnic spot. Since it's such a lovely day out and because, with a stroke of luck, most of us have the day off, I suggested a picnic. Sherlock isn't completely sold on it but he didn't refuse the idea once I mentioned John coming along.

We spread out the blankets, creating a large circle, and Sherlock helps me sit down before handing William back to me. I hold him in my lap and open up the baskets. Sherlock helps John with the cooler and then somewhat unceremoniously plops down beside me. Rosie dives onto the blankets, "When are Aunt Molly and Lesthdrade coming?"

"In a few minutes, Rosie." I reply.

"Eat now?" I shake my head and ruffle her hair a bit.

"No, Rosie. Go off and play for a bit."

"Alright!" She scrambles back up to her feet and dashes back towards John, who has a small tennis ball in hand. He's been meaning to teach her how to play catch and this is the perfect setting.

William gurgles and waves his fists, "In a couple more years you'll be able to join them too, little one," Sherlock knowingly responds and gently tickles his feet, eliciting giggles, "If you don't take after me and prefer to sit out, that is."

"Sherlock," I sigh, "Why don't you join in?"

"Because as I said, I prefer to sit out for these things. And why would I get up and move when I can stay here with my wife and child?"

"Darling, you are hopeless," I declare and look at William, "Isn't he, Honey?"

"Am I?"

"Quite possibly." Mycroft's voice interrupts and I look over our shoulders to see him strolling up, swinging his umbrella. I have to chuckle because he's still dressed in his stiff suit despite the warm weather and the occasion.

"Welcome, Mycroft!" I call in greeting. Sherlock stifles a groan. The British Government smiles thinly, allowing more of it in his eyes as he arrives.

"Mycroft." Sherlock

"Sherlock," The eldest Holmes replies, "Greetings, all." He bids, not willing to address everyone.

"Hey, Mycroft." John greets briefly before refocusing on Rosie. I pat a spot on the blanket.

"Come and sit, Mycroft. I'll not have you standing during the picnic. If you break because of being too brittle and stiff then your mother will hound me." Sherlock pulls a face of near complete betrayal.

"He will not be sitting adjacent to you, Susanna."

"And why is that, Darling?" The next thing I know, Sherlock is practically laying prostrate on the blankets, almost in my lap. All I see is his dark coat and chocolate curls, "Sherlock Holmes!"

William bursts into laughter and Mycroft chuckles with a smirk. John looks over and joins in as I shake Sherlock who finally responds, "He will not sit there because I am now occupying the concerned space."

"Yes, all one hundred and eighty three centimeters of you is now spread out over the picnic blankets," I hear him chuckle, "Your methods for getting attention are interesting to say the least, Sherlock, but please move and let Mycroft sit where he will."

He looks up at me and I fix him with a look, "Fine." He grunts and sits back up, scooting to sit flush beside me. Mycroft nods and bounces on his heels a bit before sitting down a couple feet from me to my left.

"Thank you."

"May I see him?" Mycroft inquires. I nod.

"Of course, Mycroft," Sherlock tenses up as I carefully pass William over to his umbrella-obsessed uncle, "Mind his head and back. If you're not careful he'll arch his back and you could-"

"Drop him. Of course, I would  not allow that to happen. Greetings, William." The little boy smiles a bit, delighted with the attention.

"That's your Uncle Mycroft. He controls England." Sherlock grunts. I guffaw and nudge him. He only smirks.

Molly and Brooklyn arrive soon, followed by Lestrade. We dig into the picnic and everything goes smoothly. Mycroft socializes a little bit even, but mostly focuses on his nephew whom has him wrapped around his tiny finger. Sherlock hovers and watches them but I manage to keep him calm, leaning into him and snuggling up a bit.

Danger... Danger... Danger!!

My alarm antennae go off all of a sudden and I snap my head to look around the park. Sherlock notices, "Love?"

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

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