Hello Readers! Thank you so much to everyone for their reviews, follows, and favorites; you're all AWESOME! Your enthusiasm definitely inspired me to write this chapter faster than I'd originally planned! I hope you all enjoy it! :)

Chapter 2

"Damn." Mycroft sighed, as realization hit him. He had thought that he was admitting his feelings to his brother Sherlock, which was bad enough; but as it turned out a certain pathologist had overheard his confession and was now positively shaking with excitement. "This can't turn out well," he thought to himself, lowering his head in defeat.

Leaving her shopping bags on the floor where she'd dropped them, Molly flitted over to where the Holmes brothers sat in stunned silence and said in Sherlock's direction, "First, hello you," and placed a quick peck on his lips, leaving a content smile on Sherlock's face. Mycroft rolled his eyes. Then, perching herself on Sherlock's lap, she turned to face Mycroft, her demeanor now very serious, and declared, "Second, if we're going to get you a girlfriend, we've got a lot of work to do."

An hour had passed inside the flat of 221B and Molly wasn't getting anywhere with the elder Holmes brother. She thought that Sherlock had been a tough nut to crack; but Mycroft was essentially an iceberg that refused to thaw. Now seated next to Sherlock on the couch, with Mycroft seated alone in front of them as if he were a client, she spoke up.

"But why do you want a relationship now Mycroft? What's changed?" Molly prodded him for the third time. She had been unsuccessfully trying to get Mycroft to explain why he, all of a sudden, wanted a girlfriend when under normal circumstances he could barely stand to make small talk with his own brother. Before they would help him with Anthea, Molly needed to know that he was serious about starting a relationship with her.

Mycroft remained frustratingly silent. He just kept alternating between smirking and grimacing. It was rather disturbing to watch.

Sherlock spoke up for the first time, "Really Mycroft, just answer the question! It's not that difficult, even for you." Satisfied with that small dig, he continued more seriously, "Truthfully, as happy as I am with Molly, there is no denying that girlfriends require a significant amount of time and effort in order to be content in a relationship. And most of that time is spent talking-about feelings, what each other ate for lunch, the latest celebrity gossip-really mundane drivel to be honest." He stopped to offer an apologetic smile towards Molly, who returned with an indulgent smile of her own. He really didn't deserve her, he thought to himself. He continued to Mycroft, "My point is, there is no benefit for you to enter into a romantic arrangement with your assistant unless you have actual feelings for her. Especially considering that if you screw it up, which you obviously will, she will no longer wish to work for you, and then you'll be without a girlfriend and a competent assistant." He paused before adding, "However, the regular sex is quite fantastic and surprisingly beneficial for increased higher brain functioning…so there's that," he finished smugly, winking suggestively toward Molly.

Molly blushed. "Uh, yeah, okay, thanks for that Sherlock," she said hesitantly. "Incidentally though, he's absolutely right. Uh, about you losing your assistant if things go sour, I mean. Not the, um, sex thing. Although I guess that's true as well," she stammered. She shook her head quickly, attempting to keep her composure. "Ahem, so, uh, keep that in account going into this little endeavor."

Mycroft studied the (in his opinion) sickeningly sweet display between Sherlock and Molly and realized that this, the little moments, the complete trust and almost brutal honesty, between the two of them; this was what he wanted.

Molly opened up her mouth to speak again, but Mycroft cut her off, "That right there," gesturing between the two of them, "that is why I want to be in a, ahem, relationship," he added, trying not to choke on the word. He swallowed the vomit that was threatening to come up-he still couldn't quite believe that the words were actually coming out of his mouth. "I want what you two have," he begrudgingly admitted.

Molly smiled proudly, and turned to find Sherlock had dropped his jaw in shock once again. She carefully pressed his jaw closed with her index finger and kissed his cheek. Sherlock, now recovered from his shock, offered another of his famous winks that she adored so much. She turned back to a completely mortified Mycroft.

Molly decided to switch tactics. As if talking to a child, she said gently, "Okay, let's try something else. What do you like most about Anthea?

Mycroft looked thoughtful for a moment. "I suppose that the characteristic I admire most about her is similar to that which attracts Sherlock to you."

Sherlock stiffened in his seat. Molly quickly sucked in her breath, bracing herself for some off-color response about her skills in the bedroom or something of that nature.

"She tolerates me," Mycroft finished cheekily.

Sherlock scoffed. "Ha, because you pay her to," he mumbled under his breath.

Molly let out a sigh of relief, and had to stifle the laughter that came next. "Okaaaay, well there's a bit more to it than that but I guess it's a start. C'mon Mycroft, what is it about Anthea, of all of the women that you've ever interacted with…"

Sherlock laughed aloud and added sarcastically, "I'm sorry, how many women do you think he's interacted with?" and continued laughing to himself.

Molly gave Sherlock an admonishing look and continued, "…that makes her special? What makes Anthea different?"

Mycroft let out a frustrated sigh. "I don't know! She just is… she allows me to be the arsehole that I often am; doesn't expect anything more from me. There aren't many women that would do that." And he looked pointedly at Sherlock, who offered a small nod in agreement. Sherlock only knew of one woman that would put up with his admittedly obnoxious behavior, and she was sitting next to him.

Molly could tell that Mycroft was quickly losing his patience. "Hmm, well what does she like? What are her hobbies? Her interests?" Molly prodded.

Mycroft, now visibly irritated, blankly stared back at Molly and Sherlock. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, he thought to himself. As he contemplated forgetting the whole thing and made a move to get up to leave, Sherlock's sudden outburst stopped him in his tracks.

"Think Mycroft! Deduce her!" Sherlock bellowed exasperatedly. "You do see the woman every single day, you must know something about her! I suggest you do your research!"

Mycroft let out another long sigh. "I suppose that she enjoys texting on her mobile quite a lot. And…let's see…Ah! We both enjoy making fun of other people. Does that count?"

After exchanging a quick glance with Sherlock, Molly turned once again to Mycroft. "I think we're looking for something a bit more specific than her love of text messaging and your shared interests in taking the piss at strangers." Sherlock added, "Deductions Mycroft, c'mon, this is utterly embarrassing if that is the best you can do."

"Fine," Mycroft relented. He began to speak very quickly. "Her nails are always perfectly shaped and polished which would suggest that she keeps up a consistent maintenance schedule at her favorite salon. The Nail Loft at Harrod's, if you were wondering-I've seen the business card that she carries in her wallet. While she styles her hair every day, it is at its best on Monday and Thursday afternoons; which would indicate that she gets a professional "blow-out" done during her lunch breaks on those particular days. Her hair always smells quite lovely on those afternoons when she passes by my desk…" Sherlock looked to Molly at this point in Mycroft's rapid-fire speech to find Molly with a huge grin on her face, which made a smile appear on his as well. Mycroft was still speaking, "She wears heels at all times and her calves are incredibly well-defined as a result. She dresses smartly but not in an extravagant way; often in dark and neutral colors that accentuate her figure-yes, Sherlock I've noticed-which indicates that she cares about her appearance, but does not need to prove it to anyone. She's quietly confident, and fully aware of her beauty, but does not feel the need to flaunt it….oh, and based on her breath when she gets back from lunch, her favorite meal is the chicken tikka masala from the little Indian restaurant down the street; which incidentally I also quite enjoy."

Molly started to respond to his deductions, but before she could get a word out, Mycroft added hastily, "Oh, and her mobile ringtone, which I hear quite often, is a song by her favorite band; no idea what the band's name is though. No doubt, it's some top 40 one-hit-wonder that I've never heard of."

Sherlock interrupted, "Ha, as if you know any band name, let alone a top 40 band. I wasn't aware that you even knew what music was!"

Mycroft ignored his little jab. Please, like Sherlock knows popular music anymore than I do, he thought to himself.

Molly suddenly perked up, a look of excitement back in her features. "Mycroft, I think I have an idea. A woman's favorite song says a lot about her, so your first assignment is to research the ringtone, deduce the song's meaning to find out why it is important to Anthea, and then figure out what to do with that information."

Mycroft was dubious. "And what exactly am I supposed to learn from a ringtone?"

"I think you can deduce that one on your own," Molly explained with a smirk. "So get to working on that because you're going to ask Anthea out on a date tomorrow."

"What? No no no, not yet. I can't, I don't even know what to say. No, I can't. No," Mycroft stammered. Sherlock had never seen his brother look so terrified.

"You're the one that wanted a girlfriend, brother. You actually have to ask a woman out for that to work, it doesn't just happen," Sherlock teased him.

Mycroft shot a deadly look towards Sherlock. "Fine," he said resignedly. "What do I say?"

"I think it will come to you. Just speak from your heart," Molly offered.

"Ugh, the heart," Mycroft said with disgust. "Words aren't formed in the heart; it's such a ridiculous notion. What am I supposed to do with that?"

Sherlock laughed. "He has a point," he added. Molly just shook her head, slightly amused at Mycroft's naïveté in regards to feelings. She laid it out for him. "It's simple really, when you see her tomorrow, just ask her if she would like to go to dinner with you and let it flow from there."

"Well I might as well just do it right now, no need to prolong the suffering," he grumbled as he went to pull out his mobile. Molly grabbed for the phone. "Oh noooo you don't; you will absolutely not ask Anthea out on a date through a text message. No. Way. You will ask her out on a proper date. In person. No exceptions. And you will do it tomorrow," Molly demanded.

Closing the front door after Mycroft left, Molly turned to find Sherlock still sitting on the couch, most likely filing away this "strange" version of Mycroft into his mind palace for later use. She walked over to him, sat on his lap with both legs hanging over one side of his, and offered him a dazzling smile. "Well that was interesting. Maybe we should start a consulting matchmaking service!" Choosing to stay silent on that one, Sherlock kissed Molly's forehead while she giggled to herself. "I kinda like you Mr. Holmes. I think I'll keep you." In response, Sherlock pressed his lips to hers and kissed her soundly. And just like that, the strange event of the day disappeared from his mind and all that he could think of was his Molly.

A/U: So I'd fully intended for this chapter to include a scene between Mycroft and Anthea but it didn't end up happening that way-it would've been 10 pages long if I had! I wanted a little more build up...but no worries, Anthea will make her appearance in the next chapter, promise!

Thanks again for reading! :)

And another big shoutout to Writingwife83 for her input once again! You rock! And thanks for the "consulting matchmaker" reference as well-it fit perfectly! :)