Author's Note: Merry Christmas, guys! I told you I'd add the second half around Christmas… It just happened to be on Christmas. I worked hard to get this done for you. You all really liked the first half so I REALLY hope this is okay. I have no idea, honestly. I hope you like it 3. Please read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: Clearly I don't own Sherlock. The show is the baby of Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss, while Sherlock Holmes itself is the creation of Arthur Conan Doyle.


The First Time He Pulled Her In – Mycroft's POV

Forty-five minutes. Mycroft noted this time just as he watched the minute hand do another full rotation of the clock.

Forty-five five minutes ago, David Kiernan was supposed to pick Anthea James up for their date. That means forty-eight minutes ago he arrive at her building, always early by a few minutes but no more – must not look eager. They'd then arrive at a mediocre restaurant that was decent by their standards. The young couple would have talked for a little while, Anthea laughing the way she does and twirling her hair around her finger playfully and to purposely look 'cute' as she'd call it. After which they'd order. He'd order champagne because it's cliché and how could he know that Anthea much preferred spirits – scotch particularly. She'd drink it to be polite and pretend she really liked it. About now their entrées would have arrived. Now that the food had arrived they'd moved on from light conversation to date conversation. Anthea would ask about his family, because that hole left by hers is still a little close to her heart, and she can't help herself. David would ask about hers, and to avoid the sadness – after briefly covering what happened in a quick sentence – Anthea would talk about Jamie, and James, and probably Mycroft himself.

Mycroft sneered as he tried to focus on reading his book. He couldn't even tell you where he was up to in his book. No matter what he did, Mycroft's mind would not focus. It just kept going back to her and him. Even The Divine Comedy, his favourite story as a child, was now tainted with memories of her as she tried to read it in Italian. It was sickening. It was idiotic. Mycroft tried to focus on the book.

The little boat of my intellect now sets sail, to course through gentler waters, leaving behind her a sea so cruel…

Anthea crinkling her nose and making a jab at David.

David leaning over and holding Anthea's hand.

And I will speak of that second region, where the human spirit is purged, and becomes fit to climb to Heaven…

David walking shoulder to shoulder with Anthea as he walked her home.

David making Anthea laugh so lightly and freely as she does.

Mycroft scoffed and turned the page.

The sweet colour of eastern sapphire, that gathered on the skies clear forehead, pure as far as the first sphere, restored delight to my eyes, as soon as I had issued from the dead air, which constrained my eyes and heart.

David kissing Anthea goodnight.

Anthea enjoying it.

Mycroft closed the book and tossed it onto his coffee table. He folded his fingers together and placed them firmly against his lips. This won't do, this won't do at all. Reading wasn't helping him, his mind is too complex to focus on such a task without being able to wander. He'd considered getting a drink but really, is that what he needed right now? Clouded judgement? It could only lead to stupidity.

So what should he do then instead of reading? Stare into the nothingness and think of that girl. The girl with the chocolate curls, with the spark of wit and humour in her eyes, with the knowing smile. The girl who could break him with a lost look, or make him with a little encouragement. Was he to sit here and think of her enjoying the company of a low level employee who wasn't good enough for her? To think of David enjoying the company of someone so rare? Would he even appreciate her? The lawyer did at first… At first. Then he'd broken the doll's heart. He'd reached an untouchable and managed to hurt her. By the looks of it no one had done that before, she'd always been strong and independent, and so many people out there wouldn't appreciate that.'

Mycroft supposed it was time to face facts. Somewhere along the lines he'd become attracted to Anthea James.

He always knew she was an attractive woman, that wasn't to be argued with, but he wasn't one to be attracted to… people. They were all far too annoying, useless, and unappealing for all of that business. Also, one in this line of work should steel their heart against others. What was interesting was somewhere along the lines she'd made him like her. He enjoyed her company, was pleased to make her laugh and smile, didn't care if she turned up at his house. After some time that turned into an… attraction. If he was honest, he'd realised with that dress. That red and black monstrosity that had turned Mycroft into just another blithering idiot. That was the perfect mix of physical appeal and personal connection that night, and it had been hard to turn off since.

And then she'd kissed him, and he hadn't known what to think since. So when they'd started spending more time together Mycroft couldn't stop it, though he knew he should. He wanted to pay for dinner, he wanted to take her to that ghastly play. He'd go to an art gallery just to see her appreciate it and show off her own intelligence by talking art.

He'd fallen down that pit a long time ago, hadn't he?

The issue that arose from this was what was he going to do about it? How would he climb out of the pit? He didn't want to take the hand of someone else, the way Anthea was currently doing… with David Kiernan. Mycroft could not think of an idea he disliked more than that. But what were the other options? Try to drag himself out tooth and nail? That's what he was trying to do tonight and look where it got him. A messy brain with thoughts flying all over the place. He couldn't live with that for as long as it took to get out of the pit. The other option was to just sit down, alone, in this pit that someone else had dug. But he didn't want that. Mycroft didn't want to sit down in this pit all alone while Anthea climb out with the help of the outstretched hand of an accountant. He didn't want to watch her walk away and out of his life. That's why he'd carefully constructed so many walls and barriers around his emotions in the first place, if no one can get in then there's no pain when they walk away. And this was hurting. Anthea being happy with someone else, spending her evenings with someone else, making a mess attempting to cook for someone else. It caused Mycroft physical pain.

He couldn't do it anymore.

He wouldn't do it anymore.

When one is hurt, you do what you can to fix the injury and stop the pain. The injury was his and Anthea's relationship. The pain was that she was moving on.

They'd been going out together? Didn't that mean anything? He'd stayed at her home instead of going out. A flat where Miss Thompson lived. They'd been… developing their friendship. He liked to see her smile, he did so much that he wouldn't do for anyone else. Couldn't she see how important she was to him? Couldn't she see that she'd been dragging him down? Was he so good at the Ice Man routine that even Anthea couldn't see that he actually wanted to be around her?

Mycroft Holmes was not one to date. He was not one to have people that can be extorted other than the family members that already exist. He was not one to have a girlfriend or a boyfriend, or a partner in marriage for that matter.

But Mycroft Holmes couldn't stand the idea of Anthea James with another man and he had to do something about it.

She'd made him fall into this pit, and he was not going to sit in it alone. He knew what he had to do.


Mycroft sat in Anthea's armchair, hands placed together and held firmly at his lips as he stared at the blank television screen, lost in thought. He'd turned up to her flat with a plan as to how to stop the girl climbing out of the pit. It was impulsive and had multiple ways of failing. Now Mycroft was particularly glad he hadn't drunk tonight. God knows what decisions he would have made had his mind been clouded with alcohol.

This could backfire in many ways. For example, Anthea could bring Mr. Kiernan up to her flat, but knowing her as well as he did, the likelihood of Anthea bringing up a man she honestly saw a possibly future with on the first date was only five percent. She could tear him to pieces for picking her lock and getting into her flat, but she knew him as well as he knew her, and the chances of her being angry enough to do that was twenty percent. Jamie could turn up here, but that was slim to none, being occupied with James and all. The highest possible negative outcome was that Anthea would slap him – and that was sitting firmly at fifty percent chance. Regardless, this was going to make an effect on the young lady, and that would be a sound result.

All he had to do for now was sit here and wait for her. Wait for Anthea to come home from a date, see him there, and question his presence. He'd then tell her exactly why he'd turned up.

He heard the front door open, and a light sigh as Anthea dropped her purse on, by the sounds of it, her dining table. As her heels clicked on the floor coming closer and closer, Mycroft kept his eyes firmly on the television set, steeled against any reaction. The noise stopped just at the makeshift entrance to this half of the room.

"Mycroft?" Her heard Anthea splutter his name in shock and disbelief. He looked over to her. The brunette's carefully styled curls were now falling out, looking soft as the waves barely caressed her face. She was wearing a faded dark blue dress, she knew blue made her complexion look soft. "How did you-" Anthea stopped herself, closing her eyes and swallowing as she redirected her sentence. She knew he could get anywhere he wanted to and she was too smart to ask a stupid question. "What are you doing in my flat?" That was a complicated question to answer and would take far too long to answer. Would he say he couldn't stand the idea of her out with someone else? No. Would he say he just wanted to make sure she still looked at him the same way? Never. Would he tell her his plan? Mycroft looked Anthea up and down very carefully as he held his neutral mask to his face. She didn't need to know what he was thinking.

"How was your date?" It slipped out of his mouth with far more venom than he had intended. He'd only meant to slightly emphasise the word date, and not seethe it the way he did. Anthea's brows faintly furrowed.

"Fine." She answered quickly. Mycroft quirked an eyebrow.

"Just… 'fine'?" He asked, tilting his head. How curious. People tended to say fine when they didn't want to admit the truth. Seems Anthea caught on to the game. She closed her eyes and shook her head, more hair falling from behind her back to in front of her shoulders.

"No. It was more than fine." She defended herself, opening her eyes. "It was great, actually." Mycroft pursed his lips, looking Anthea up and down, reading her. She says great, but her eyes didn't light up the way he suspected they would, the way they did when he took her out. Didn't she notice that? Mycroft turned back to the television. He just needed an opening but he wasn't going to force something. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the personal assistant pinch the bridge of her nose. She lowered it with a hard shrug. "Mycroft, why are you here?" She huffed, sounding exasperated. Mycroft did his best not to let his lip twitch into a smile. This might be his opening.

"I'm here for something of a social experiment." He hummed in a bored tone. Anthea's lip pulled up in a confused sneer. She looked as if he was speaking another language, but Mycroft was used to people looking at him that way.

"A what?" She asked. That was it, that was his cue. With a quick glance over to the confused brunette, Mycroft swiftly got to his feet and walked to Anthea, stopping just before her. He was so close he could smell the Chanel she'd placed on her neck, it was almost intoxicating. Anthea, the colour flushing from her face, had to look away. Most likely something causing the same reaction that her perfume was to him. He hadn't even begun and the experiment was a success. Who else could do this to him and he could do it back? He watched Anthea's soft pink lips part as she slowly let out a breath. This was it, if he was ever going to be able to do this experiment, it had to be now. He had to recreate that spark.

As Anthea turned back, questions written all over her face, Mycroft had to silence her. No questions now, this had to be right. He placed his hand on the side of her face, palm cupping her cheek, thumb firmly under her jawbone. He was tempted to caress her face but it fit too perfectly in his hand to dare move it. She looked up into his steely eyes with her dark orbs. There were questions still on her lips, but they were fading with the electricity Mycroft had just sparked. It was perfect. This must have been what Hades felt like when he first laid eyes on Persephone. Mycroft leant forward and pushed his lips against Anthea's. She didn't jolt back and slap him like she might have, nor did she pull away. Anthea, after the initial shock had passed melted into the kiss, falling further into Mycroft's grasp. It was the most gentle and tender experience Mycroft had ever had in his entire adult life. This gentle creature in his touch, feeling her fall further into their shared experience. This was it. This was not the passion and the spark of that initial kiss. This was their connection. This is why she shouldn't climb out of the pit. Where else would you find this?

Mycroft pulled away from the kiss first, then after a moment of hesitation as his mind wandered briefly, he removed his hand. That was… very successful. His stoned his face, placing the ice back where the warmth had been. Mycroft cleared his throat and straightened his tie as Anthea looked him over with hazy vision.

"Thank you for participating." He nodded, and walked out of the living room and out of the flat. He closed the front door behind him, making sure it was locked.

Excellent, now he might be able to sleep tonight.


Anthea came storming into Mycroft's office the next morning, fire in her eyes, figurative guns blazing. To be honest, it was expected. She stopped right in front of his desk, arms folded tight against her chest, lips parted. Mycroft looked up from his phone to take in his assistant.

"Good morning, Miss James." He hummed politely. He pulled back slightly and tilted his head to examine her closer. The brunette's hair was in its natural wavy state, there were bags under her eyes and her complexion seemed flushed still. All this indicated that the PA had been up all night. "Did you not sleep last night?" He asked, just to confirm. Anthea scoffed, outstretching her arms in a large shrug.

"How could I sleep after that?" Her voice was raised and on the verge of yelling. Mycroft pouted his lips and shrugged.

"I slept fine." He told her as his placed his phone down by his keyboard. What had started off as a horrible night ended up being quite a nice one for him. The thought of Anthea with David… that was driving him closer and closer to the brink of insanity. He'd fixed that. He looked back up to Anthea to see her open and close her hands into fists by her side. She was trying her best to calm herself apparently.

"What was that, last night?" She asked, seething. At least it was better than almost yelling. Mycroft turned to his computer, pulling up his emails.

"I told you, my dear, a social experiment." He answered calmly as he began answering an email. Really, why did people ask questions they already knew the answer to? It tended to be annoying. Apparently this answer wasn't satisfying.

"What social experiment?" Anthea laughed, stepping closer to the desk. "Kissing me? Ruining my date? How's that an experiment?" Mycroft turned back to Anthea, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Did she just say 'ruining her date'? How wonderful. Perfect, even.

"Ruined your date, did I?" The genius couldn't keep the smugness he was feeling out of his voice. Anthea rubbed her eyes in frustration.

"Mycroft." She warned, looking back at the genius with a molten glare. He could only shrug with one shoulder.

"I was simply demonstrating the difference between kissing someone you have chemistry with and kissing a random man from work who happened to ask you out." He felt himself tense at the mere description of David. Surely, the difference was obvious to her. Surely she could see that David, like Tim, wouldn't be good enough for her. Anthea ran her hand through her hair as she clearly struggled with the conversation.

"Why, Mycroft?" She rose her voice again, looking down and meeting his gaze. "You don't want to date anyone and I'm single. Are you trying to torment me?" Mycroft looked down at his desk, folding his hands together. He honestly felt something at the accusation that he was tormenting her.

No, never.

Not intentionally.

He'd accidentally hurt her before, but that's not what this was. This was… because of them.

"No, I'm not tormenting you." He sighed, still watching his hands instead of meeting her gaze. What did he say now? That she was meant to spend her evening with him? That they were too close to each other to let someone else in. That she'd dragged him kicking and screaming into her pit and now he couldn't get out? "I was merely under the impression that we were coming to…" Coming to what? Mycroft Holmes didn't date. They weren't coming to a relationship, not like that. They had simply decided silently to start going to dinner, and plays, and the like together. "An understanding." Anthea's mouth fell open as she looked at Mycroft like he'd just admitted to immense horrors. She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head, frozen like that for a moment. Eventually the girl shook her head quickly.

"An understanding?" She scoffed. "What is that?" Mycroft's face contorted to show the mixture of emotions he didn't want to have but was feeling. It should be obvious. Did you see him doing that sort of thing for anyone else?

"You don't see anyone, and in return neither do I."

A pause. Anthea's face fell flat.

"Mycroft, you don't see anyone anyway." Her tone was as flat as her expression. "Even Charlotte knows that."

"I know…" Mycroft muttered. Anthea looked away, over at the bookshelf. She was giving herself a moment to calm down. That meant he might be able to get through to her. She looked back at Mycroft, eyes still fiery but they'd definitely cooled.

"So you want me to sit around being single forever, is that it?" She asked. Well… Mycroft cocked his head to the side. That's not what he'd call it, but sort of… Anthea laughed in surprise at her boss' reaction.

"I can't do that, Mycroft." She stepped forward, holding her right hand above her heart. "This hurts me too much, already. I can't sit around because you don't want anyone else to have me." Her voice was calm as she spoke from the heart. He knew it was hurting her, he really did. But didn't she see what she did to him? "When did this become an issue, anyway?" She breathed. She didn't know? Really?

"I've been taking you places…" Mycroft stopped himself from wincing as he heard the weak words escape his mouth. It sounded far more pathetic than he'd anticipated. Anthea's eyes narrowed.

"You mean our non-dates?"

"Oh." Mycroft perked up in his seat. "Is that what you've been calling them?" He asked, considering it, letting the term dance around in his mind. "Seems appropriate enough." This was from the woman who'd named the office at the Diogenes club "the Dungeon", he shouldn't be surprised by yet another term. Anthea seemed frustrated as she rubbed her eyes with her hands. It seems Mycroft wasn't giving her the answers she wanted.

"What do you want, Mycroft?" She spat out, placing her hands firmly on her hips. "Spell it out for me, okay?" Mycroft leaned back in his chair as he attempted to explain his idea to Anthea. That was a far more complicated question that it seemed to be at first glance. He wanted it to stay the same… but he just wanted to see her more. She made him smile. He made her smile. That was all. He might as well start with that.

"This understanding is that we do not see other people, under the agreement that we spend more time with each other outside of work hours." Anthea's lip pulled up as she cocked her head to the side, looking utterly lost.

"So that kiss." She gestured with her hands as she talked, as if it would help clear it up. "Is this kissing thing part of your understanding?" Mycroft scoffed, turning back to his email.

"Please, Miss James, we're not dating."

A pause.

Anthea took a deep breath and let it out at a slow and steady rate. Mycroft kept typing.

"I can't do that, sir. I'm sorry."

What?

Steel eyes flickered back up to Anthea's face, narrowing wanting her to elaborate. Her toned had just sounded so pained when she said that, why was she saying no? What was she doing?

"I'm not going to be your pet. I told you that a long time ago, when you threw an NDA in my face for me kissing you unexpectedly." She wasn't a pet, she had to know that. He'd tried so hard since that incident to prove that she was valued. And the NDA incident was different. It had been adrenaline and out of the blue, not like this, not like how he'd planned it. He had to make her feel valued, to feel like she wouldn't be a pet. What could he give her that he'd never give anyone else? What could he offer up?

"Well…" Mycroft's upper lip pulled up and he frowned, thinking about what he was just going to say. He wouldn't do this unless he had to. "I could offer you other signs of affection, including…" He scowled. "Hugs." Anthea's face momentarily broke into a smile as she almost blurted out a laugh. As soon as it came, however, it was gone, and the girl had folded her arms across her chest.

"I need more than that." Well, at least she was willing to negotiate. That was better than that no that had almost knocked him off his seat. Mycroft was really going to have to offer something up to her for her to take the offer. He was going to have to hand something over to her on a silver platter. He couldn't hand over all that she wanted, he couldn't give her a proper dating relationship, and it was too hard and too dangerous. What he could give her though, was a little bit of honesty. He'd need to drop away the mask and let her see how he felt. So that's what he did, he allowed himself to be open and honest for the first time in a long time, and he spoke honestly.

"Alice. For some unknown reason I don't like you not around me. I don't do people, this is very new to me. Grant me this and, although I can't promise you anything more will come if it, I will try." The honest approached seemed to be working as Anthea's eyes cooled further and her face softened. He could do this, he could stay open long enough for her to see. It was painful, but it would be worth it. "And I'm not used to people other than Mummy trying to touch me in a way that isn't to hurt me, so if I'm tired and caught off guard, I might just pull away, but that does not mean you can go out and accept dates from men in the finance department." Ah, he'd let a little too much of his personal hurt slip out there, but it had made Anthea involuntarily laugh and a soft smile grace her lovely face once more. That made it worth it. Maybe it humanised him to her.

Mycroft allowed Anthea a silent moment of contemplation as he could see her thoughts bouncing around in her brain. Her breathing was off, and she looked like she might just as easily fall back into anger as she might agree to this. When she looked back over to Mycroft, eyes searching his face, emotions flickered through them, her face fell into a frown. Yet she began nodding.

"Okay…" She muttered quietly as she continued to frown. "Okay." It was louder and slightly snappy. "An understanding…" She was testing the word on her tongue. "I could give it a bit of a test run." Mycroft quirked his eyebrow but dared not open his mouth yet to interrupt her. "But if either of us work out that it's not going anywhere, then I'm out of it." She pointed sharply at him. "Because I'm wasting so much time on you, Mycroft Holmes. Don't make me waste an extra minute if it can be helped." What do you say to that? Mycroft nodded quietly. Anthea nodded in return. She shrugged, still the fierceness of a hint of anger in every movement. "So how do we seal an 'understanding'?" It came off with more vehement distaste than it seemed either of them were expecting, but Mycroft ignored it and took the words at their face value.

"I could offer you a handshake?" He opened his hands.

"Okay." The brunette nodded lightly.

Ah, well here it goes… Mycroft took his time to get out of his chair. He stretched out his back and neatened his clothes. Slowly he walked over and stopped in front of Anthea, offering out his hand. Anthea looked down at it, suspiciously. As if she expected him to have one of those practical joke buzzers on his hand. She seemed to assure herself as she took his hand and they shook on it. Ah, but it didn't seem right. This is not how one closes the deal on something like this. It should be more than that, it should be something to seal it, something to remember. Almost like signing a contract. That's when the idea came.

Mycroft felt awkward and rigid as he tugged on Anthea's hand, pulling the girl into his personal space. Unsure as to what he was exactly doing, he awkwardly placed his free arm over her shoulder to rest his hand on her back. Anthea seemed just as rigid as he did in her confusion, but as she was pulled in loser she seemed to realise what was going on and slowly the girl melted into the hug similarly to how she melted into the kiss. As she placed her hand on the small of his back and gently rested her forehead against his chest, Mycroft felt the awkwardness dissipate and that familiarity and comfort set back in. They fit together so well. As he rested his cheek against the top of her head, he took in the scent of her to file away safely in his Mind Palace.

Mycroft gently rubbed Anthea's back in what he presumed was a soothing manner before he pulled himself away. Anthea blinked to herself, lost in thought, as Mycroft straightened up his suit. He walked over to his desk and sat back down. With all that done and settled, it was time to get to work for the day.

"Now, Miss James." He sung, turning back to his computer and finally sending that email. "There is a list of names I sent to you in an email. I need you and Walter to go collect some information from all of those people for me." Gathering herself together, Anthea cleared her throat and nodded.

"Yes, sir." She'd switched on her work tone too, always professional. That's one of the reasons she was so great at what she did. She turned and began walking out of Mycroft's inner office and back out to the main room. There was just one thing he couldn't resist doing before she left the room.

"I like the smell of that new shampoo." He added calmly. Anthea whipped around quickly on her toes to face her boss. "Did you buy it for your date last night?" He teased. Anthea held up a finger, pointing at him with a warning. She tried to look menacing and annoyed, but the naughty smile on her face gave away her amusement.

"Don't." She warned though her vibrant eyes and cheeky grin. Mycroft smirked in return, eyes sparkling.

Who else could infuriate her and entertain her on such a level as he could? Who else could not only match her wit, but beat her? How could she even attempt to be with someone else when this worked so well?


Author's Note: Well? Alright? Not a letdown? This took more work than most chapters usually do. Don't get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoyed writing it, it just took a lot more to get done right. I hope it's okay. Let me know.

Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays to those who celebrate out December related events :). Hope you had a wonderful time, and thanks for improving my year so much.