Author's Note: … 200 reviews, guys…. We're past 200 reviews! What am I supposed to say to that? Except you guys are the best and I love you all so very much. I've mentioned this before but it's been a long time since I've loved something enough to want to write long fics about it and I just feel totally embraced by the Sherlock (or Mycroft, really) fandom. That is absolutely amazing and thank you all! Also, very pleased that you enjoyed John and more about what I plan to do to celebrate at the end. I've been looking forward to this chapter for a while and I cannot wait to see what you guys think of it! 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.

Her First Ambush

"…Sounds like you had a rough day at work." Anthea spoke into her phone as she walked down the dark sidewalk, only every second shop or bar still had their lights on.

"Yeah, it was, but talking to you makes it all better." Tim, more commonly known to those around her as 'the lawyer' by no choice of her own, did his best attempt to sweet talk his girlfriend. Anthea rolled her eyes and shook her head. It would take a lot more than a comment like that to make her swoon.

"Nice try." He said flatly and hearing Tim laugh twice very sweetly. She heard the tell-tale squeak of his bed – the mattress needing replacing long before he and Anthea ever met. So he was lying in bed.

"Worth a shot." Anthea stopped at a crosswalk, looking both ways carefully before walking across the street, her black heels clicking every step of the way. "How was the dinner with the uni friends?" Tim asked while trying his best to stifle a yawn. Anthea took a deep breath.

"It was okay. I mean I've only ever really liked a handful of those girls so it would have been better without the rest of them."

"Still, I bet it was nice getting out of the office early for a change." Tim's own bad day at work was well reflected in the tone of his voice. That was the best part about Tim – he was as busy as she was. Anthea bit the inside of her bottom lip.

"I don't know. I think I would have rather traded evenings with my boss." She shrugged to herself, her free hand being shoved into her pocket.

"Yeah?" Tim asked with a chuckle attached to the word. "Why, what was he doing?"

"Cleaning up after one of his brother and his friend's messes." There was a pregnant pause before Anthea added. "Don't ask" very flatly. Tim laughed. "You could have probably helped out, actually. We could have dealt with it."

"Legal and political troubles?" She could hear the smile in his voice. Sweet guy, that's the best she could say about him – and reasonably cute. "We should have done it, and charged your boss's brother a fortune for our services." Anthea was smiling as she shook her head to herself.

"Nah, my boss would have just ended up putting up the bill and since I work for him and you're my boyfriend he would have found like ten loopholes so he didn't to pay us." As much as it sounded like Tim was a fantastic lawyer she'd never want to see him try to stand toe to toe with a Holmes. Sherlock would humiliate him and Mycroft would eat him alive without even flinching.

"Should have guessed. Politicians, sneaks, the lot of them." He joked.

"Yeah, you have no idea." Anthea sighed. Tim chuckled again. Anthea turned down a street leading to her home. It was darker than usual, the late night coffee shop was closed and one of two street lamps seemed to be working.

"Well I'm going to go to bed now. Call me later and we'll see when we both have a day off."

"Yeah I will."

"Bye beautiful."

"Bye." She clicked the hang up button but decided to keep the blackberry clutched safely in her hand. She took a deep steadying breath and continued her way down the street. What a waste of a night this had been. She could have been helping out Mycroft, or at the very least at home reading a book. She was about due for a re-read of Wuthering H-

SMACK!

Anthea was pulled into an alley way and shoved into the red brick wall with such force her shoulder shot with pain and her head ricocheted back and hit the wall almost as hard as her shoulder had done. One man held her to the wall by said shoulder and two others stood either side of him blocking any possible exit. None of them had made an attempt to cover their faces except by wearing a stereotypical thief eye mask that made a person look like a racoon. Anthea blinked trying to clear her vision. Oh, her left shoulder was excruciating. She automatically raised her hand to rub it only for the wrist to be shoved against the wall, scraping against the brick. She kept blinking to focus.

"Yeah this is the one, look at her face." A cockney accent came spitting from the man who was currently holding her to the wall.

"A pretty little face like this, yeah, this is Holmes' bitch alright." The one to the left laughed. Anthea gulped, her phone still clutched in her right hand even as her wrist was pushed against the wall.

"Who's bitch?" Anthea frowned, half out of pain, half as an act. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play coy with us. We've seen you following him about like a lost little puppy dog. You ain't fooling anybody." The grip against her shoulder tightened.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just a secretary, I get dry cleaning and pick up food." The one of the left laughed again but it was the one on the right who spoke.

"Yeah right, and I'm the Queen of England. You're valuable you are." Anthea scoffed, dropping the game slightly.

"How?" She quirked an eyebrow.

"You know things. You know how to get hold of people." Her grip on her phone tightened as she tried not to gulp.

Mycroft was leaning against his desk, arms folded against his chest as he regarded his fairly new assistant with a neutral face.

"We're going to have to install a kill switch into your phone." Anthea was visibly taken aback as she frowned, her grip on her blackberry tightening ever so slightly. She knew this job was going to be secretive but a kill switch in her phone?

"Excuse me, sir?" She tilted her head, bewildered. "Why?" He unfolded his arms, placing them to his sides touching the edge of the desk, inhaled, making almost a hissing noise, and raised his eyebrows.

"The information you'll have access to and available on your phone, it will be of an extremely sensitive nature and many people out there would do a great deal to get their hands on it." Anthea looked down at her phone briefly then looking back up into her boss's intelligent, cold, eyes. "And if the situation ever called for it, that information is more valuable than your life." Anthea stopped herself from flinching.

"Seriously?... Sir?" She added the sir as an afterthought. He pursed his lips and waved her off.

"Don't take it personally, my dear, some of it is more valuable than ninety-five percent of the global population as individuals."

"Even yours?" A pause.

"Some of it, yes." Funny, to hear something like that said to you. Anthea knew there were people out there somewhere who died to protect all sorts of things, but to know that some emails may be more valuable than her life, or any of her friends lives was a very weird thing to become aware of. "Miss James, I need to know that you understand." His steel blue eyes were searching her chocolate ones as if he was reading her thoughts. Anthea nodded once.

"Understood, sir."

Carefully without drawing attention to her hand Anthea entered 1854 into her phone and pressed the call button effectively destroying her phone beyond repair. Now the important part was dealt with – making sure these idiots couldn't get their hands on what they wanted – Anthea wondered if she could possibly get herself out of this. She dropped the phone to the ground, making a clang on the cement. The three men looked down at the noise.

Anthea swiped her free hand passed her shoulder as hard as she could to push the man's arm off of her. She then, using the wall as some leverage, kicked the man as hard as she could in the centre of his chest. He stepped backwards and crumpled into himself. Anthea turned to her right and punched the guy in the nose. As his hands came up automatically to touch his nose she shoved his face into the wall. It was then that she took the opportunity to run. She began running for the end of the alleyway as fast as she could. If she could just get out into the street lights, in front of a store, she could then be safe. She could run into a store and call Mr. Holmes, or James, or the police. Something grabbed her ankle and she fell face forward onto the cement, breaking the fall with her hands but still hitting the side of her face against the cement. One of the men, most likely the one she left alone, had jumped for her and got hold of her ankle. He pulled her up by her hair until she was kneeling.

"Nice try, sweet cheeks, but we're not letting you go that easily." She felt his hot breath thick against her neck. "We're going to have a nice chat, us and you." Anthea scowled.

"I can hardly wait." She spat.

At least the phone was gone, that was the important thing. There was no information to be taken forcibly from her.

"Jamie, if you were told that an item was more valuable than your life. Would you do anything to protect it?" Anthea asked Jamie over the phone as she lied lazily across her couch, the news playing in the background.

"What do you do, Alice?" The girl asked causing Anthea to smile to herself as she read the headlines scrolling on the bottom of the TV screen.

"No, this is just a hypothetical." It's better that her best friend think that anyway.

"Um… well… no. I mean, don't they tell you to do the opposite? If you're getting robbed give the robber what they want and then call the police?" Yes that is true, Anthea remembered her first part time job at a coffee shop and the trainers had told her that. Still, this wasn't really money they were talking about, it was much high stakes.

"What if you were told it was super important?"

"Still no." Ah sweet little Jamie. It made Anthea wish she could tell the girl more. Even then though, Jamie would probably still answer the same way, most people probably would. Her boss wasn't most people.

"Mmm." Was all Anthea could answer with.

"I might do it for a person though." She said wistfully. "Like you or my mum."

"Huh. People and their priorities."

Anthea was violently awoken by a slap across her face, the lights of the filthy white tiled room stinging her eyes. They weren't bright – actually they were quite dim and gave off a blueish hue – however Anthea's eyes were struggling to come into focus. She was aware of just how much her shoulder was killing her, and she could feel a bruise very close to her left eye down her face. Her wrists we handcuffed behind her back, the metal chaffing the scrape along the right one, and her legs were each tired to a chair leg. The cold metal chair seemed to be bolted to the ground. She felt like she was looking through a fog, which wasn't good, there was definitely something in her system – most likely to knock her out in the first place. Chloroform would be the best case scenario, she didn't want to think about the worst case scenario. How much time had passed since the alleyway? As she began to focus she became aware of two men in the room – they were two of the three from before.

"Rise and shine, sweetheart." The one with the cockney accent was standing tall above her, obviously the one who slapped her awake then. She took a deep breath and rolled her eyes. "We're hoping you'll be a good little girl and give us what we want." He gave her a big toothy grin showing off his overbite. Anthea merely raised an eyebrow. "We've searched your handbag darling. You've got no address book, or nothing. We also found your dead phone."

"I told you I don't have anything." Her voice was horse and her throat was dry and scratched as she spoke. Apparently it had been long enough that she was extremely thirsty.

"That's the thing though isn't it? You had something. Emails, phone numbers, all the information we wanted and you got rid of it. We don't like that very much." Anthea gave the man a mock apology look.

"Oh did I upset you? Oh well that's just too bad." As soon as the words had finished coming out of her mouth Anthea's face was slapped to the side once again so hard she could feel it stinging and pulsating. Anthea grunted, suppressing her cry, before turning back to look the man in the eye once more.

"You think you're smart, do you?" He spat. "Well the smart thing to do would be give me the information I need. I need the addresses of all the people in high positions in parliament." Anthea scowled.

"If the situation ever called for it, that information is more valuable than your life."

"And what makes you think I'll give you that, even if I know it?" Her dark eyes narrowing on the man's beady eyes.

"How would your master Holmes like to receive pieces of you back at a time?" Anthea couldn't help but laugh that time.

"If you think Mycroft Holmes is going to negotiate with petty terrorists for the sake of a single PA's life then you're even stupider than I thought." It was a punch thrown at her this time that hit her right in the cheek. The force of the impact caused her to bite the inside of her cheek, filling her mouth with blood. She took a moment to recover and spit blood onto the dirty white floor. A deep breath in and out. Carefully Anthea ran her tongue across her teeth mentally counting them and feeling their presence – fearful that the blood and pain may also be from her teeth. No, they were all still accounted for, thank heavens. Another deep breath. Now she could talk again. "Beating up women, nice." She mumbled.

"Equality and all that bull." The man crossed his arms. Anthea looked over to the man in the back of the room. He merely leaned against the wall looking bored. "If what you say is right and Mycroft Holmes wouldn't care less about you why don't you just give up the information?" He leant in closer and lowered his voice, reasoning with her. "Look doll, all we're trying to do is purge the government a bit. All these secret deals and puppet masters like your Holmes, it hasn't done us any good has it. We need to start again, a clean sweep." Anthea spat more blood to the ground.

"You know what will happen then? The replacements will fill in until the next election, the process will all start again and you'll be in jail." She hissed. "There is no beating the system." The man smirked again.

"Yeah but then the replacements will be good people who ain't corrupted and aren't under the control of dirty, weak people hiding in the shadows like Holmes." Anthea jumped forward in her seat.

"Mycroft Holmes is so above you in every way that you aren't even fit enough to be the dirt he walks on. When he gets wind of your little organisation he'll disband you so quickly you won't have time to blink and you'll wish you were in prison or dead by the time he's done with you!" The hand was at her throat so quickly Anthea didn't have time to replenish her breath as she choked against the pressure. Her hands fidgeted and flexed in their confines wanting nothing else but to scratch and claw at the hand at her throat.

"Listen to me you little bitch." He whispered in her ear as the sides of her vision began to turn black. "You're in no place to insult me. I've got your life in my hands now. You're going to sit there quietly and behave like a good little girl, got it?" He pushed her back as he let go of her throat. Anthea drew a breath so quickly and it stung her throat beyond belief. The room was silent for a good five minutes as the man gave Anthea some time to recover – how kind of him. "What are the addresses?" He asked. Anthea shook her head, shutting her eyes for a moment.

"I don't know." She whispered.

"Don't play with me."

"I don't know!" She repeated louder, wincing slightly at the raw pain it caused. "I don't drive to these places, I get taken to these places. I'm not his personal driver."

"Phone numbers." She shook her head. The man laughed.

"I'm serious. The numbers I have memories, they aren't for people in parliament."

"There for the shady people who have security teams and such?" The man frowned. Anthea took a deep breath and nodded. The man's eyes narrowed as he thought quietly. He knew not to mess with those people.

"What about emails?" Anthea shook her head. "You're lying."

"No I'm not." She sighed.

"Yes you are." The volume and irritation in his voice increased.

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are, I can smell it on you." He stepped forward.

"You can smell it on me? What are you, some kind of dog?" Everything went black for a good five seconds when the fist came into contact with her face. Blood finally started to trickle down her face, it was from her lip. Fantastic, just fantastic, a split lip. She wanted nothing more than to wipe off as she felt it make its way down her chin.

"You ain't that smart, are you?" He spat. "Haven't you ever heard of self-preservation?"

"I might do it for a person though."

"Some things are more important." She muttered under her breath as she closed her eyes. She kept them shut, just wanting to fall back asleep and pretend this wasn't happening.

"You're kidding right? Ain't one of those people who you are protecting would do the same for you."

"Don't take it personally, my dear, some of it is more valuable than ninety-five percent of the global population as individuals."

"Screw you." Anthea would quite know what happened next because whatever it was caused her to black out.

"You would do anything for Sherlock, wouldn't you?" Anthea smiled at Mycroft from across his desk. The man's pen paused midsentence and his steel blue eyes held onto Anthea's with suspicion glowing in them.

"Why are you talking about this?" He asked as he continued writing. Anthea bit the top of her lid as she watched him, thinking about how he'd practically halted the meeting earlier that day when he received a call from Detective Inspector Lestrade. He had waltzed back into the room like nothing had happened.

"Well, you would." She hummed. He scowled with disgust.

"Absolutely not." Anthea's grin grew bigger.

"You're lying." She said, crinkling her nose.

"You can't possibly know that." She did, she could tell by how much he was trying to hate the conversation and by how much he tried to protect his brother. Sherlock Holmes was probably the only person in the world who could get Mycroft Holmes to reveal those cards he held so tightly to his chest.

"I can tell, sir." She hummed. Silence.

"Finish your paperwork."

Anthea wasn't sure how much time had passed as she fought to stay awake bound to that metal chair, the edge digging into her thighs. Days, definitely, but she didn't think it had been longer than a week. She couldn't tell though, there was no light and she was in and out of consciousness so often. Her shoulder was a dull ache now but she wanted nothing more than to lie her face against the cold tile ground, it looked so comforting to the stinging and the burning sensation. In fact, she'd like to lie flat against it to feel the cool and to stretch out her back which began to pain her from sleeping hunched over in a chair. She'd been allowed to drink water what she presumed was once or twice a day. One of those men would come in with a bottle and hold it to her mouth. She'd almost thrown up the first time they'd allowed her to drink water by having too much on an empty stomach. She'd learnt her lesson.

She and Mycroft had been talking about starting up their lunch walks again now they had time and weren't just keeping themselves running on sugar. It had been more for his reassurance than either of them absolutely needing too but now she wouldn't have to she thought darkly, the side of her mouth cracking slightly into a smile.

These men, they had gotten nothing out of her. She was too well trained, too smart of them, and just too damn loyal. She might be a little bit stupid too. She'd quelled her sarcastic tongue for the most part but every now and then she couldn't help herself. She remembered vaguely through a haze spitting blood in one of their faces. She couldn't quite remember what they said but she swears she'd heard a mention of Mycroft's brother somewhere and it had just angered her to the core. She'd attempted to jump forward in the chair and threatened their very lives. They could touch her but if they even dared to touch one single hair on Sherlock's head, well, to be honest she wasn't in a position to do anything about it. In fact they'd proved it then and there with a backhand but Anthea would have felt worse if she hadn't attempted to protect the younger genius – for her boss's sake.

She sighed a ragged breath as drifted slowly back off to sleep. She dreamt of nothing but a cool black void, cool as she imagined that floor was.

It was mere moments later she was woken up by commotion behind that large metal door. Gunshots, screaming, yelling, all sorts of gruesome noises. Anthea would have frowned if it didn't hurt her swollen face to do so. What had happened? Had someone discovered then or had they brought someone else in. What if it was Walter or James? That couldn't be, they couldn't allow that to happen, it wouldn't be fair. Anthea tried to listen for any familiar voice but she couldn't make out anything coherently.

It went silent, almost completely silent. That is not a good sign. Well, it could be a good sign but it could be a very, very bad sign. She held her breath and just listened for any clue of what had happened out there. What sort of altercation had taken place? Was it her lucky day or her worst nightmare?

BANG.

She jumped to the best of her ability when the metal door crashed open against the white tile, bright light flooding in from what she presumed to be a hallway. Anthea winced, to begin with at the new light source but then at the pain her own wincing caused. Her heart began racing as her vision cleared slightly and she could make out three silhouettes. She blinked hard and fast, trying her best to clear her vision, wanting nothing more than to wipe her eyes. Not those three men, anyone but them at this point, just let her sleep, please.

Her vision cleared up slowly and revealed the stony cold faces of Mycroft Holmes and Sherlock Holmes with their vastly intelligent eyes both analysing her on the fly, and the determined look of a trained solider on the face of Dr. John Watson. A feeling of absolute euphoria washed over Anthea as it seemed the impossible had just happened.

"Mycroft!" She exhaled, her voice cracking terribly.

Author's Note: Oh, did I not mention that this was a two-parter? Well the resolution for this is next chapter. I really can't wait for the reviews from you guys on this particular chapter! As usual a thank you to the guests who are numerous this time; Corrine, Connie, Wheezzy8, ValkyrieDefender, toolazytologin, Wink, Guest x 4, ovejalucifer, marie, and JohnsStethoscope. Let me know what you thought of this chapter.

200 REVIEW CELEBRATION! Today Connie mentioned that she'd like to see some of this from Mycroft's point of view, to which ovejalucifer agreed to. I was thinking, as a big thank you to you guys, that's what I will do. I want you guys to choose a chapter that you would LOVE to see Mycroft's version of and then I will post it as a one shot as a fic by itself, along with the link in next chapter. I am keeping track on my Tumblr so if you follow either me or Anthea let me know there, if not you can mention it at the end of your review. Thanks so much guys! I hope I can keep up the quality!