Author's Note: The feedback for last chapter was astounding, guys! Really! I'm super excited that you guys enjoyed that one. It was one of my favourites so far so I'm glad you all like it too. Now you know I take my time to thank all my wonderful reviewers personally but I'll take a moment to thank our guest reviewers too, such as Wink. All your feedback guys is appreciated and the reason I try to keep these chapters at a certain quality. So like I said, chapters 9 and 10 are kind of linked so I really hope you enjoy this one. 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 Sign of Trust

Anthea hadn't woken up until 10am and it was the most blissful feeling she could even comprehend at the moment. She stretched with a content yawn and laid in bed for a further fifteen minutes just happily and sleepily staring at the ceiling. Once she deemed her thought pattern coherent enough to move, she put slippers on her feet and padded into the kitchen, making a cup of tea to lie on the coach with watching trash TV. She was not planning to get out of pyjamas all day.

Anthea had been working for Mycroft Holmes for over six months at this point and even though it was by far the most incredible job she could have ever dreamed of – it was exhausting. She did everything for the man, from picking up his dry cleaning to taking notes during international meetings. Not only were the duties unimaginable but so were the hours – he hadn't been kidding when he said she'd always be on call. Even Sundays which were technically their day off she wouldn't be surprised to be called into action by 7.30am. If Anthea hadn't seen the man dishevelled and in his pyjamas she would have wondered if he ever slept. But today, today was different. To celebrate her lasting longer than his last three P.A.s combined he had allowed her a Saturday off where he promised, promised that regardless of any work problem that came up he would not call her. If it were Jamie Anthea would have asked for a pinkie swear, with Mr. Holmes, Anthea had made him shake on it. He'd given her a dressing down with a powerful look, but had taken her hand regardless.

"I do have other people working for me, Miss James." He had said with that sarcasm of his dripping off his tongue.

"But who else is going to put up with you, sir?"

She sighed contently as she turned on the TV to any mindless drivel that wasn't about the news or politics and let the peaceful noises surround her. There was a Friends marathon on one of the channels and was lasting until midday, which would do fine. She hadn't just sat in her apartment for months and sometimes she missed being bored. Only sometimes though, only now she could appreciate the feeling as rare as it came. No dates, no going out with acquaintances, no weekend stay with Jamie, no Mycroft Holmes complaining about something, just quiet. She might read a book later, yet again, she might not, it didn't matter what she did today. Just as she began to sip her tea her blackberry rang. Her face dropped and she raised an eyebrow. Of course, she thought to herself as she picked it up from the coffee table to look at the number.

Mycroft Holmes – private mobile

His mobile number. The nerve of the man, he'd promised. Sure, he'd been a proven liar, so was Anthea – or Alice, really – but she'd believed him. Anthea sighed to herself and debated not answering it for a millisecond. Even as she doubted, however, she was already hitting the answer button and raising the phone to her ear.

"Yes, sir?" She asked with a sigh, unable to hide it. Perhaps it were better if he heard he irritation. It would be nice if he could hear the studio audience laughing in the background too, that screamed 'I'm at home'.

"Anthea, I'm sorry, I know I promised not to call you today. However something," he hesitated "quite important has come up and, well, I am at a loss as to who else to call." Anthea frowned to herself, taking her feet off the couch and sitting forward. She knew his mask well enough now to know a crack in it and she wasn't certain but he sounded tired. She'd seen him tired before, seen him with the sleep still in his eyes, but she'd never heard him sound like he was exhausted.

"There are plenty of people in the office today sir, is it about the meeting?"

"Yes and no." He answered. "It's a bit more of a personal matter and I'd rather not involve work." Now this got Anthea really concerned. Mycroft Holmes didn't have personal matters. She was already off her feet and carrying her mug to the kitchen sink.

"A personal matter, sir?" The cup clinked as it was placed upside down in the sink, the still warm coffee spilling down the drain.

"Yes, look –" A sighed on the other end of the phone as he restarted. "I'm going to be frank with you, my brother is in hospital." He has a brother? "I'd like to stay with him until he woke up or another visitor arrives but as you said, it's the Chinese representatives last day in England and we can't afford to reschedule." Anthea was already at her closet pulling down the easiest clothes to slip into. A pair of jeans and a band tee. She knew they couldn't reschedule, they had already done so twice and Mycroft was eager to get this deal over and done with. If it were put off and they went home, well, there could be a lot of trouble – some Anthea couldn't even comprehend.

"St. Barts, sir?"

"Yes."

"I'll be right there."

It wasn't until she reached the hospital that she realised she hadn't asked what Mycroft's brother's name was. It was odd really, turning up at a hospital to visit a patient that you didn't even know the name of. Anthea was getting way too used to being prepared for anything – a missing detail was strange.

"Hi, I'm looking for a… Mr. Holmes?" She asked with a frown that the nurse matched. "His brother, Mycroft Holmes called me." The elaboration seemed to help as the nurse typed it into the computer and gave her the room number.

If Anthea wasn't exceptionally well trained at this point with guarding herself she might have gasped at the sight of Mycroft Holmes sitting in a hospital chair looking absolutely exhausted, leaning over, looking over his brother's face. She cursed herself now for not stopping to get coffee. He would have liked one right now – a black one for once too. She wondered for how long he had been sitting there. Long before Anthea had even dreamed of getting out of bed, that's for sure. Perhaps even before she settled down for the night. For once he hadn't seemed to notice her enter.

"Sir?" She asked gently and quietly. He looked over to her and within a second his mask was on covering all but the tiredness that the dark circles under his eyes betrayed him of. He smiled, it most definitely did not reach his eyes this time. No sparkle, no feint amusement, not even close.

"Anthea, thank you for making it at such short notice." He looked back to his brother – not moving from his position on the chair. Anthea noticed how his hands were clasped together.

"It's in the job description, sir." She tried to joke with a small smile. He didn't even look her way.

"No, it's not." He responded – no emotion to betray him. "And I apologize profusely once again for interrupting your lack of plans." Anyone else she may have been tempted to hug him, maybe offer words of sympathy, instead she was at a loss. She stepped closer to the hospital bed and examined his brother. The mop of curls that stuck to the brother's head made him look weaker and younger than he probably was. He was tall, like his brother, and very thin.

"Overdose?" She asked, knowing he'd at least appreciate her open honesty. Mycroft took a deep breath in and leaned back in his chair. She noticed the umbrella hooked on the arm rest. That was some normalcy then.

"Not Sherlock's first, either." She had a feeling he said the name for her benefit. She filed it away safely. "He doesn't know what to do when he's not using his brain. He tries to shut it off with morphine or cocaine." So the brother was super intelligent too then, no surprise. That was some family resemblance.

"You just make sure you don't have any down time." He looked up at her accusingly for a moment before it melted into that fake smile, nowhere near as warm as it could be, as warm as she'd seen it when she'd made a sarcastic joke that he'd deemed smile worthy but not laugh worthy. Mr. Holmes turned back to his brother and sat watching him for a few more minutes in silence. Anthea couldn't help feeling like she had intruded – like she'd stumbled onto a part of Mycroft Holmes' life that wasn't supposed to exist. He wasn't supposed to exist outside the office to anyone. And yet, here she was, watching him as he watched his little brother. It was… different.

"Do you need me to call anyone, sir?" She fumbled over her question, raising him out of his own thoughts as he looked at his mobile for the time. "Parents?"

"No," He said as he stood up, grabbing his precious umbrella with a swift and unnoticed movement. "No need to worry Mummy about this, only if it turns out to be a complete relapse." Mummy. Once again she felt like she heard something that people were not supposed to know. Why was she being privy to Sherlock, addictions and the fact that they called their mother 'Mummy'? Until today she barely even thought of him outside the office. His house had been practically empty. "If Sherlock's only being idiotic on a one-off because he's bored then I can deal with it myself." He rolled his eyes and she smiled warmly. He tapped the tip of the umbrella on the floor twice, then gave her instructions in a tone she was much more accustomed to hearing. "I only need you to stay here until either a Detective Lestrade, a colleague of my brother's, comes in, or until visiting hours are over. Lestrade will know you under the guise of Caroline."

"Will do, sir." She nodded. He opened his mouth to say something but hesitated, searching her eyes.

"Thank you, Anthea."

"Not a problem, sir."

When Anthea turned up to work on Monday morning she was greeted by a bouquet of flowers made up mostly of Queen Anne's lace and yellow roses. The little card within the flowers had only the words 'thank you' in that delicate hand writing she was growing to know so well. She smiled to herself, holding the card absently to her lips as she mused. How many people had gotten flowers from Mycroft Holmes? Very few she'd imagine. She placed the card down and went to make tea in the kitchenette.

She brought the tea into the office with a smile as she placed it on his desk.

"Good morning Anthea, I trust all is well?" He asked without looking up from his current file.

"Yes sir," She said walking back to the door before turning and facing him. "I hope all is well with you, too?" He looked up from his file to look her in the eyes, brown and blue locking.

"Yes, fine, thank you." She smiled more warmly. Anthea stood in front of his desk and cleared her throat, getting down to business. He folded his hands on the desk and looked up at her, a cue for her to debrief the weekends more important notes.

"James called last night, sir. He's back from his mission early and wants to come in and brief you in person. I told him you are working from the Diogenes Club from lunch onwards so to come before then. Charles sent an email regarding the Americans, I told him everything was under control. Lestrade sends his regards and says that he's going to threaten the younger Holmes with a search of his flat if this continues. Finally, I have read your notes from the meeting with the Chinese and will put them into a contract this morning." After she finished rattling off the notes Mr. Holmes nodded, opening a draw, and pulling out a file.

"Excellent, thank you Anthea. When your namesake drops by please send him straight in and take this," he held out the file for Anthea to take. As soon as her hand was on it he continued. "Straight to Mr. Warrick. I need him to sign that today." Anthea tucked the file under her arm and nodded once.

"Understood, sir." Mr. Holmes' attention flickered straight off Anthea onto the computer screen as he reached for his cup of tea.

"Yes, thank you, my dear." Anthea smiled warmly, regardless of whether Mycroft could see it or not.

"Any time." With a swift turn on her heals Anthea left the private inner office to her desk in the office proper.

Business as usual.

Author's Note: Well, what did you think? Thanks for reading and please let me know what you thought. Two guesses who's in next chapter :P. Not really, obviously you know who, I don't think sarcasm is displayed well in text... But year, thanks and review :).