Author's Note: Thank you so much guys for all the kind words regarding this fic! Seriously, you have no idea how happy it makes me that you respond so nicely to my first venture into writing for this fandom. All the subscriptions and favourites are so much appreciated. You just make me want to write more than I already do. Ok now this chapter is almost the polar opposite of last chapter… almost. I think it is something that would happen sooner rather than later so I hope you like it. Read, review (and make me blush with your kind words once again), and most importantly, 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 All-Nighter

Anthea discovered a very important lesson about her job this week – the most dangerous tasks were not the ones on location – nor were they the ones that threatened Mr. Holmes' life – they were domestic negotiations. As it turned out, a pair of squabbling Brits with power usually ended up causing the worst headaches. This particular negation between powers had begun early Wednesday morning – 6:30am to be precise.

When Anthea arrived at work at 7:30am Mr. Holmes was already in his private office talking on both his mobile and the landline – line two – simultaneously. She had only walked in to give him a cup of tea – to which he swatted away – and then decided to leave him in peace until the issue had been dealt with. Anthea had not been here long, but long enough to know what work could be done easily and efficiently with no input from the great Mr. Holmes himself. She went through all the emails as they came, cleared todays scheduled meetings and rescheduled them, checked upon the progress of certain low level missions she had been given the access to supervise in Mr. Holmes' absence, then checked her private email before lunch break.

It was 12.30pm when she decided to head off for a coffee and something decent to eat other than the banana she had eaten when she left that morning. Before she left, however, Anthea thought she'd brave to stick her head into the lion's den. Anthea rapped on the door lightly with her knuckles and looked through. Mycroft was now sitting at his computer with the landline to his ear. He looked up at her – still talking on the phone and merely raised his head. That was him asking her what she wanted as politely as possible in this situation – Anthea had already learnt that. Anthea held up a hand and pointed to her wrist with a neatly manicured nail as if pointing at a watch. Mr. Holmes' grey eyes flicked down to where the time would be displayed on the computer screen that was currently spilling a blueish light onto his face. He looked up and with a half-smile nodded. That meant go ahead. She mirrored his response, her own half smile and nod, and went in search of nourishment.

When she returned from lunch almost thirty minutes later to the second, she was greeted by the sound of Mycroft Holmes' slightly raised voice. Frowning to herself for the moment, Anthea thought it would be best not to announce her return. Instead, she decided to let him know that she was back in another way. She coughed loudly as she walked past his door to the little kitchenette and turned the kettle on. Anthea had no plans on making tea or coffee – she had an amazing latte at that close by café – but the noise should demonstrate that a friendly presence was within the office. Walking back to the desk and sitting down, she tapped on it with her fingernails a few times. Anyone should have heard her by now – someone who proved himself to be as absurdly perceptive as Mycroft Holmes would probably be getting annoyed with her by now. Satisfied by this Anthea got back to work.

For once Anthea found herself done with all her daily tasks by 6:00pm. This was strange, very strange. She was never ready to get out of here by now – not even by 7:30pm. She barely made it out of here earlier than 9:00pm on some days. She tapped her fingers – lightly this time – against the desk as she tried to ponder her next move. She could go home but this early that didn't feel right. She could see if her boss had anything for her to do but his lack of appearance and orders was a tell-tale sign that he had not completed whatever the negotiations were. She bit her lip and stared at the desk. With nothing left to do but not willing to leave yet she may as well just do what she would do at home while at the office – while still monitoring the emails, of course. She got out her phone, answered a text from Jamie, then leant over and pulled a book from her bag. Wuthering Heights the beginning was slow and Mr. Holmes had already raised an eyebrow at her upon seeing it in her handbag but the artistic soul within Anthea couldn't help herself.

Anthea checked the time on her phone. Oh good, it was past 8:00pm now, she could probably leave and not feel guilty about it. She shut down the computer, put her bookmark in place, and packed up. Before leaving she walked over and knocked on the door. She heard a faint "mmm?" on the other side and took that as her cue to enter.

Mycroft's black jacket had been abandoned on the small black leather couch in the office, and his red tie had been loosened ever so slightly. He was sitting at the computer, one had resting within his hair, his mobile close by to the freed hand. He was so focused on what he was doing he did not look away from the screen.

"Mr Holmes, I'm heading home for the evening sir." Anthea spoke quietly – the way one does at a church or in the principal's office – not being told to be quiet but just feeling the need to be. His steel eyes flickered briefly to her, briefly to the time on the screen, and back to whatever he was reading in the middle of the screen.

"Yes, alright Miss James, good evening." There was no tone in his voice what so ever, no normal half smile, just total focus. Any other person Anthea would be worried. She smiled but her brows furrowed, not like he'd notice either.

"Goodnight, sir." She closed his door when she left.

When Anthea had first sat down at her desk in the morning something just didn't feel right. She paused in her chair – frowning slightly- and looked around. Then she spotted it, the offending reason that left her feeling put out. Her white coffee mug that she had been using yesterday. It wasn't that she had forgot to put it in the sink, that was not an uncommon circumstance. What was uncommon, however, was that it was still there this morning. Mycroft, whether he left before or after her, always got to work before Anthea. She'd discovered within the first week of working there that if she left a coffee mug out it would be either sitting in the sink or drying on the dish wrack by the time she got to work. It was a curious little habit her boss seemed to have and it often made her wonder if he had other things like that. She'd like to imagine him stepping out of his office, seeing the mug, and making that 'tsk' noise of his, rolling his eyes, before picking it up by the tips of his fingers around the sides. Did that mean he had stayed all night? She looked over to the door that lead to his private office and hummed to herself. Surely not, perhaps he'd just been too tired to notice the coffee mug. That was an absurd idea, though not entirely impossible. Anthea sighed to herself and decided to start work on the emails that were probably already piling up.

At 11:00am the lack of Mycroft's appearance from the office, her own curiosity and her lack of patience got the better of her. She walked over to the door, lightly knocked and let herself in. His jacket was still in the same place on the couch, his tie had been loosened more, his cufflinks were abandoned on the table and his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his hair was slightly messy. He was talking down the phone in one of his calming tones but there was an edge to it, as he held the back of his free hand to his forehead – eyes shut. Anthea pursed her lips together as she viewed the sight. Mycroft Holmes was a workaholic, yes. Mycroft Holmes had apparently had forgotten to go home. She walked back to her own space and shut his door, leaning her back against it. Anthea had never been in this situation before, she had only ever had lazy, arrogant bosses who loved to delegate before, not one that pulled all-nighters. Did his brain just keep running until he decided to shut it off? What if it ran out of energy? Out of fuel. Her mind flickered back to the time her and Jamie had been spending the week off at Jamie's house studying for final exams. They were pulling an all-nighter for their English study when at 3am Jamie's mum had come in with some snacks for them. It had made Anthea – or Alice as she is in her memories – feel so light hearted and made her miss her own mother. Snapping out of her memory with a shake of her head Anthea grabbed her handbag and ran out of the office.

When she next knocked on Mycroft's door she was greeted with a muffled reply of what she guessed was 'come in'. She entered to see him in a moment of respite – no computer, no phone, just his head resting in his hands. That's why the reply was muffled. She approached the desk and placed the plate in between them, square in front of her boss. He lowered his hands and examined the item in front of him. There had been many choices of sandwiches and Anthea had played it quite safe really – ham, cheese, lettuce and tomato on rye bread. He hid his opinion behind that irritating mask as all he did was raise an eyebrow at the sandwich and looked up at Anthea, waiting for her to explain.

"You were here all night sir, you haven't emerged once. You need to eat something." She kept her tone as careful and monotone as possible. She may have woken the sleeping lion.

"I hired you to be my assistant, not my mother." His face remained the same but the sarcasm oozed.

"And I thought you were a government official, not a petulant child who needed looking after." She cringed at herself. There's that making jokes when under pressure thing again. Anthea really needed that looked at. He scoffed at her but then levelled his gaze onto the sandwich. Mask or no mask Anthea could tell he was tempted. "Eat it, and then you can have these." She placed the white paper bag with six cookies in it onto his desk next to the plate. His eyes widened ever so slightly – the tiredness letting that mask slip ever so much out of place. She'd already picked up on his habit for sweets. "Eat the carbohydrates before going for the sugar rush. We don't need you to crash." Anthea said, cocking her own eyebrow as she eyed her boss carefully. Mycroft made something of a sniff noise in response and waved her off.

"Yes, yes, alright. Thank you, Miss James." She returned back to her office feeling quite pleased.

The phone calls had resumed not long after that and had seemed to stop two hours later. Deciding to check on her surprisingly juvenile boss Anthea knocked on the door and entered.

"Yes, Anthea?" Mr Holmes was in the middle of pulling his shirt sleeves back down. God forbid he leave the office looking the way he had.

"I take it that negotiations are over, sir?" He finally did that half smile that, though it did not reach his eyes like she so wanted to see, was reassuring.

"Yes, and quite successfully so. No death threats to be weary of." He raised his eyebrows and pulled a sardonic smile this time. She couldn't help but let out a polite chuckle. Anthea noticed the empty plate pushed to the side and the lack of paper bag anywhere and couldn't help but feel slightly smug.

"I'm glad to hear it, sir." She said, stepping further into the office. "Let me just clear this for you."

"Thank you, my dear." She heard him say as she started to turn away. "Whatever would I do without you?"

"Starve, evidentially." She muttered. As she closed the door to his private office behind her she heard a single laugh.

Author's Note: What do you think? How do you feel their relationship is developing during these first few months? Also, in case its not the same in other countries, we in Australia, particularly in high school and universities, call staying up all night or until like 4 am to finish a report or assignment "pulling an all-nighter". Well where I am we do. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it :).