Title: A Minor Conundrum
Summary: Prompt: Write a fic without using any e's.
My response: 'Sh'lock' turns Mycroft into a kid. Mycroft is not happy. Nor is John.
Genre: Humor, kidfic, crack
Notes: I will admit I cheated a bit and used 'search' to double check if I had accidentally let an e slip through...which I had...way more than I would have hoped. Apparently they're quite slippery and like to sneak in just when you think you found your way around them. Anyway...it probably isn't a proper story, but if you like kid fics through science, particularly baby Mycroft, then you might enjoy it. And since I did write it, it seemed a good idea to finally post it. And all without any e's. Which, by the way, does weird things to your brain. It took me at least an hour afterwards to stop trying to alter all my thoughts into e-less words. Oh well, at least it wasn't Shakespeare. Every time I read/watch that, I start thinking in iambic pentameter. The original prompt (and several other fills) can be found here: http : . com ?thread=59081032#t59081032 (just removed the spaces)
John stood in his flat's doorway, staring in with a frown.
"What's this? I go out for just two hours for work and you find a small child?"
"It's not my fault. You didn't stay. It was boring. And Mycroft isn't hurt, anyway."
"Think, John, look at what's in front of you and just think! Look at his tiny suit and his annoying scowl. That's Mycroft! Obviously." Now that John was looking, it did look a bit how John thought a baby Mycroft might look. A baby Mycroft who was now staring back at John, hugging a humungous brolly with both hands.
"Hi," John said to him, "I'm John."
"Mycwoft," Mycroft junior said, smiling brightly.
"And what do you know…Mycroft…about…this. Um...why you got all...small. Anything?"
"I know lots!" Mycroft said, indignantly. "I smart!"
"Alright," John said, still smiling at tiny Mycroft, "What is going on."
"Sh'lock is doing lab things and boom! Big 'splosion! And now I all tiny…but not baby. Sh'lock say I'm baby, but I'm not!" This last bit was said with a growl towards 'Sh'lock' for daring to say such things.
"So, Sh'lock," John said, ignoring his furious look now coming his way, "How will you fix it?"
"I was thinking fratrici…"
"If you finish that with what I think you will, I will throw you out. Just look at him! Baby Mycroft! With a giant brolly! So tiny and cu…"
"And if you finish that how I think you will, I will throw you out! It's still Mycroft, John. Just tiny. Not cu…c…that c word. Anyway, Gordon is coming by with a good and bloody killing; I said I'd look into it for him. It didn't sound boring anyway. Gordon said a kid and his dog found a bloody foot, just sitting in a skip!"
"Sh'lock!" John said, scolding him, "Not in front of a child! And who is 'Gordon'?"
"I'm not 'Sh'lock'! And you know Gordon, it's D.I. L…"
"S'hlock!" Mycroft said loudly, tugging at his shirt and hopping up and down, "Shl'ock I hafta go!"
"Go? And it's Shhhh…urrrrr….looock. How is that hard?"
"I hafta go, Sh'lock, I hafta go bad!" With a sigh, John finally took pity on him and took up Mycroft's hand but Mycroft didn't want to go with him.
"Want Sh'lock! Want Sh'lock!" Mycroft said, sobbing and clinging to his brolly until 'Poof!' a not so tiny Mycroft was clinging to a not so giant brolly.
"I told you it would work out, John. Now, go down and bring Gordon up, I think that's his knock.
"You know his knock?" John said, gallantly not pointing out that nothing was said by anybody about it working out. Mycroft was slowly turning pink but not hopping from foot to foot now.
"I know all your knocks. Now go on. You too, Mycroft; didn't you say you had to go?"
"I think," Mycroft said slowly with a scowl, "that it would not go amiss if I did a bit of fratrici…"
"Hi! Anybody going to unlock this door!"
"I wouldn't kill him now, Mycroft; that's a D.I. shouting," John said, giving Mycroft a consolatory look, "No D.I. can bypass a killing going on right in front of him."
"I shouldn't think that this particular D.I. would mind." But Mycroft didn't kill anybody. Though Mycroft did think that a particular man standing smugly by his lab vials should thank his stars that a sword hiding in a particular brolly wasn't abruptly swung at him. No court would convict him, surly.
"I'll just unlock our door for…Gordon…shall I?" John said as both guys fought with forbidding scowls.
"It isn't 'Gordon'," Mycroft said, but didn't say what John should call him.
It was as John was unlocking his front door for Not-Gordon that sounds of vials smashing against a hard floor told him it was stupid of him to go downstairs without bringing an angry Mycroft with him.
"That's a worrying sound, isn't it?" said Not-Gordon and both ran upstairs. Just as John had thought, upstairs both saw two tiny kids sitting and crying amidst a fountain of glass. Thankfully, nobody was cut.
"What's this? I didn't know you had kids."
So John told Not-Gordon all about it, hoping it didn't sound too crazy. Luckily, Not-Gordon didn't think so. It still took six days until all was brought back to normal. It was a month until John didn't insist on calling his companion 'Sh'lock'. All in all, it still wasn't a bad day or month.
The End. Oh, darn, I mean…um…that is to say…Fin?