Author's Note: Wow! You guys really liked last chapter. That is to say, you were worried about Anthea BUT you enjoyed the writing, haha. Thank you so much for all the wonderful feedback, it's astounding and keeps this going! Sorry for the mean and unexpected cliff-hanger :P. So here is the promised part two! I hope you like it just as much as part one. The Mycroft Thank You chapter is up, info at the end! Anyway, 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 Rescue

Mycroft's hard steely eyes scanned over Anthea's body very carefully, pausing at every single bruise and noting anything out of place – doing his best to make a map in his head of what had happen. Those eyes, Anthea's not sure she'd ever seen them so focused and so void of emotion. Sherlock tapped his brother on the arm, gesturing with his head to move forward down the hall they were standing in.

"John." The baritone voice of the younger Holmes echoed in the white tiled room Anthea was still tied to the chair in. He tossed John a pair of keys – presumably off of one of the men and presumably one of the reasons for the gunshots – which the army doctor caught in mid-air.

"Got it." The doctor nodded, heading into the filthy room. Mycroft and Sherlock – weapons brandished – continued on their way at a very quick pace. However cold they appeared, with the sudden absence of those very familiar deep blue eyes Anthea felt a sudden rush of panic set in. All of the calm, all of the confidence she had summoned and fought to maintain during her captivity all went out the window and she felt like she had been hit by a bus. Her shoulder and back began to ache more, her wrists and ankles stung, and her face! Her face was excruciating. She could feel her pulse quicken and her breathing become shallow and quick and as much as she told herself to calm down her body reacted against it. The source of her calm and confidence had just ran from the room and she couldn't chase it, she was stuck, still tied in the dimly lit room, blood crusted down her face.

"Where's he going?" The panic in her cracked and raspy voice was as clear as the light of day. John knelt besides her, gently pushing on her back to lean forward so he could unlock the handcuffs on her wrists. The look in his eyes – it was like he was seeing someone else and not Mycroft Holmes' steely and mysterious PA who sat in the back of the car giving him amused smiles and refusing to answer his questions.

"Hey, it's okay. You know what they're like, they need to finish the job I'm here to get you free and look you over before we get the all clear to leave."

Clank.

The handcuffs fell to the back of the metal chair. On reflex, Anthea's stiff hands went straight to her throat to gingerly rub it, trying to rub away some of the pain. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of her own soft and gentle touch against her neck rather than a calloused and rough hand grabbing at it. John was already loosening the ropes on her ankles and yet she did not move to move her legs, too used to them being in one place. She went to rub her tired eyes but John was quick and his hands were suddenly on top of hers.

"Don't touch your face, 'Thea." His tone was so gentle. So this was the compassionate Dr. Watson and his famous bedside manner. Anthea gulped.

"Why?" She whispered slowly and carefully, watching the doctor.

"Don't panic. Your hands are dirty and you have open wounds. I just want to avoid infection if you don't already have one." He was eyeing the side of her left eye – where it felt hot and swollen – she knew it. That's where the worst of it was, all of the men being right handed. Anthea watched as he turned his attention to the raw wrists he held in his own hands.

"Does it look bad?" She asked with a croak. John's warm eyes shot up to meet hers.

"Your face?" He asked. Of course. She nodded once. He smiled and shook his head. "Nothing's going to scar if that's what you're worried about." He looked back to her wrists. "You'll have all the guys trying to buy you drinks again in no time." Anthea began to laugh but it quickly turned into a painful cough. Still, she appreciated it.

John was done and just sitting on the floor chatting to – or more like at Anthea since her throat hurt – about very light stuff, mostly TV, when who but James stuck his little blonde face into the tiled room. He was covered in dirt and gun powder.

"Now that's a sight for sore eyes." He smiled as he looked her over. The fake sentiment made Anthea's stomach churn but just seeing her friend's face made her breathing settle slightly. "We got the all clear – let's get you over to that safe house and clean you up." Anthea's smile faulted as her lip began to quiver. Sudden she collapsed forward, her face into her hands, as she burst into tears completely against her control. John stood up beside her and place a warm hand on her aching shoulder. James scurried into the room – in complete agent gear complete with bulletproof vest – and pulled Anthea into the gentlest hug. It was ten minutes before she pulled herself together enough to be moved.

After being checked over and fixed up at one of the government safe houses, Anthea was sent to the bathroom to shower and get changed. Anthea was a little too pleased for her liking to find the walls were painted white rather than tiled. That would be something she'd have to get over quickly. Anthea spent an ungodly amount of time just standing under the warm water as it fell onto her skin, soothing her every ache and pain. It was positively blissful. She washed herself over about three times, scrubbing every minute detail down to her fingernails just to feel clean again.

Coming out of the shower she stopped and looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. Besides some dark marks her body looked pretty much intact, just a little thinner than she usually kept herself. Her face however was covered in bruises from purple and black to and sickly yellow colour. Her lips were dry and cracked, the split still raw from talking. Her left eye was swollen and that side of her face was the worst for bruises. She had butterfly stitches holding close the swollen wound near her eye and a waterproof plaster over her cheek. She barely recognised herself except for the wet brown curls of her hair and it made her feel sick. Shaking her head she turned her attention to the clothes provided for her, folded neatly and placed with the towels. She picked up the black t-shirt to examine it and… Hang on, these were her pyjamas. She sniffed the shirt and as the familiar scent filled her senses she closed her eyes and clutched it tightly to her chest. It smelt like Mycroft's house! That big empty house with the warm office they worked in for hours on end, and the kitchen bench where he sat working while eating breakfast, the couch where she sat with his parents, and that stupid cream and white bedroom. These were her pyjamas that she keeps at Mycroft's for the nights where work just takes way too long and it makes sense just to stay there. Never had a pair of pyjamas been more comforting and comfortable to Anthea. They were her own and they smelt like a home away from home.

As Anthea turned to unlock the bathroom door and leave she heard a raised voice from outside. Feeling slightly more like herself and letting curiosity get the better of any manners – as she was trained to do – Anthea paused and listened carefully at the door.

"You are absolutely certain?" That particular raised voice belonged to her boss. Given the clothes she was currently wearing she was not surprised to hear him.

"Absolutely, Mr. Holmes." That was the physician who had just looked her over. "Miss James has a substantial amount of bruises, a sprain or two, irritation to her skin, and her cheek is fractured, that is all. Other than the antibiotic for the infection she's perfectly fine." Anthea sniffed a stifled scoff. She'd like to lock him in a metal chair for however long it was, she how perfectly fine he'd be.

"Say I was to take her to another professional. Are you one hundred percent sure that they would arise to the exact same results as you?" Anthea had only ever heard that tone of voice when Mycroft was deadly serious and threatening. This was not a Mycroft to be taken lightly and Anthea was not quite sure what to make of it.

"Definitely."

"Would you be willing to risk your career on it?" There was a pause as the physician hesitated.

"Mr. Holmes, I double checked your PA, she's all set to go home."

One that note Anthea decided to stop eavesdropping and open the door. Anthea caught sight of a genuine concern in Mycroft's eyes as he looked over to her before he caught himself and it turned into something safer and guard. Something much more Holmsian. He stood in place. The physician coughed an excuse to leave the room and left the two of them alone. Anthea managed a sad smile at her boss.

"Hi, sir." Her voice cracked. Mycroft's face softened ever so slightly. He tilted his head and smiled back, though it did not reach his eyes.

"Hello, my dear." She stepped closer to him, hesitantly he stepped forward also.

"Sorry I missed work." She shrugged and tried her best to do her usual cheeky grin without causing herself any discomfort. "Something came up." Mycroft pursed his lips, shrugging in return.

"Perfectly understandable." He waved her off. "Just this once, however." Anthea sniffed rather than laughing, learning her lesson from the incident with John. She lazily gestured to herself.

"How do I look?" She cocked her head.

"As stunning as you always look." Suddenly his face went sombre and his steel eyes began searching her tired chocolate ones. "Alice, have I ever told you that bravery is the kindest word for stupidity?" Anthea felt the tears begin to well up in her eyes. She looked up into the bring lights on the ceiling – trying desperately to blink away the tears.

"I was just doing my job, sir." She croaked. "I didn't let them have anything." A slender hand rubbed her arm, the closest thing Mycroft has ever come to physically comforting another living being except maybe his brother or his mother.

"I know."

When the familiar black town car pulled up in front of Anthea's flat Mycroft had silently insisted on walking her right up to her flat's door. Normally Anthea would have dismissed his unstated concern and insisted she was okay. In her current, stupid, venerable state she was secretly very pleased to have someone by her side. Oh, this was going to be very annoying to get over, this fear of being left alone, and she needed to get over it soon for the sake of her job. Maybe the Holmes brothers were up to something with this lack of emotions thing they were always going on about. If you can't feel pain, you can't feel relief, and you can't feel scared of the pain happening again.

Once the reached her door Anthea blinked as her brain began to connect the dots in her head. She hadn't gotten her handbag back after the attack, she had no clue what had happened to it. It was probably being held as evidence for now. She turned to Mycroft with a small shrug, pouting ever so slightly.

"I don't have a key." She spoke softly for the sake of her voice. Mr. Holmes gave her one of his fake half smiles, raised his eyebrows, leant over and knocked on the front door. A rustling noise could then be heard from within the flat, causing Anthea to frown – or at least try to frown. Seconds later the door ripped open revealing Jamie in all her blonde, bubbly glory, looking as if she were preparing for a raid or to be attacked herself. Upon seeing her best friend, Jamie's eyes flashed with a serious of emotions as she began to comprehend what must have happened. The most identifiable of emotions were shock, pity and relief.

"Oh, Alice!" She practically cried. Jamie placed cupped a hand gingerly on either side of Anthea's swollen face and planted a kiss on the taller girl's forehead before pulling her into a warm hug. "I was so worried about you! You can't do that to me! I'm so happy to see you again!"

"Jamie?" Anthea pulled from the hug far enough to search her best friend's face. "What are you doing here?"

"He sent a helicopter for me." She nodded behind Anthea to where Mr. Holmes was no doubt still standing. "Without warning." Jamie's tone was accusatory but in a very light manner. "Honestly, I thought I was being kidnapped." Instead of laughing Anthea smiled and allowed herself to be pulled back into the hug. Why in God's name would Mycroft bring Jamie over? Anthea was thrilled to see her after such an event but… Mycroft wasn't exactly fond of his PA's best friend, it just didn't make sense. Mr. Holmes cleared his throat from behind the girls. Jamie let go of Anthea to allow her to turn around and face her boss.

"I best be off." Mycroft sighed, looking at the time on his phone. He was making an excuse. He looked back up at Anthea with a serious expression, one that told her to listen to his every word. "My dear, I do not expect to see you back at work until next Monday." Automatically Anthea shook her head.

"But-" She began to whisper before being cut off by the bright spark that is Jamie.

"No buts, Ali, Mycroft and I knew you'd try to argue so I'm here until Sunday to play doctors and nurses with you."

"What about-" Anthea began.

"My work?" Jamie continued.

"Her boss has agreed to a paid vacation." Mycroft finished. Anthea stared blankly between the brunette and the blonde. What had they orchestrated together? And how? Mycroft turned to leave. "As I said, next Monday, Miss Clarke. Miss Thompson." Jamie flashed him a big smile.

"Bye Mycroft! Say hello to your brother for me!" Jamie closed the door and turned back around to find Anthea staring at her with a suspicious expression. "What?" She giggled nervously.

"You met Sherlock?" She gaped. Jamie's eyebrows furrowed and she pouted as she nodded.

"With the curly hair and the equally intense creepiness? He was the detective on your case. Why? What's the big deal?" Anthea peered at the front door behind Jamie as if she could see right through it and down into the elevator Mr. Holmes would have just entered.

"Mr. Holmes, he… He can't stand people and he brings Sherlock in and you in and… I just." Anthea shook her head trying to clear it. "I don't know." Jamie pulled Anthea into a hug once more.

"And we all care about you, Ali. We just wanted you back safe so badly." The girls embraced for a good long moment before Jamie let go and spoke once more. "How about we go lie down on the couch and watch Pride and Prejudice? The ultimate feel better movie of a book."

"The one with Colin Firth?"

"Well, duh!"

On Sunday afternoon Anthea was standing with Jamie by the taxi that waited to whisk her away. The blonde's hesitation to leave was written all over her face and she was fidgeting all over the place. It was sweet to know how much she wanted to stay.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" She asked with sickening concern. Anthea smiled and shook her head.

"Jamie, you have a life to get back to, and so do I."

"But you're like my sister and if you want someone to be around for a few more nights to get you back into your work life, I'd love to be the one." Her honesty was clear in her eyes. Anthea scoffed and rolled her own chocolate eyes.

"Jamie, it's me." She said flatly. "I'll be fine." Jamie giggled.

"I know, you're one tough cookie." She smiled. "If you feel nervous or get scared, at least call your lawyer boy for help or something." Anthea closed her eyes and nodded.

"I will." Jamie gave Anthea one last hug.

"I love you." She sighed.

"I love you too." Anthea muttered. "I'll call you later." And with that Jamie returned from whence she came, leaving a bruised and battered – though healing – Anthea on her own once more. Anthea turned to her building with all intentions of going back up to her flat when she hesitated, feet planting firmly onto the floor. She could feel her heartrate increasing and her breathing hitch in her throat once again. This was stupid, she should be able to go back up there, it was her home! Okay, maybe she wasn't completely ready to be all alone. Anthea got out her brand new blackberry and with a deep steadying breath dialled the first number to come to mind and press call.

"Yes, Anthea?" That wonderful bored tone of Mycroft Holmes came through the receiver. At least that was normality. Anthea looked up to the window of her flat, biting the inside of her lip.

"So um, Jamie just left…" She trailed off. This was followed up with a long silence, a slow and painful one. Anthea only wished she could see Mr. Holmes' face to see what he was thinking and she'd know if she had to back pedal or not.

"Bring a book to entertain yourself." He sighed.

Mycroft pulled open the front door, steel eyes scanning Anthea over once before he stood to the side to let Anthea into his house without a single word being said. Anthea, with Wuthering Heights clutched in her hands and a pair of pyjamas in her bag to replace the ones he had brought to the safe house, stepped into the entrance. The door was shut with a gentle click before Mycroft walked past his assistant. He turned around to face her, looking bored.

"I'm ordering out this evening. The menu is in the kitchen, write down what you wish to have for dinner. I'll be in the study." He began to walk away. "You may bring your book in there if you must." Anthea couldn't help but smile at the oh so very Holmsian way her boss had just acted. He wasn't trying to look after her, he was treating her like normal with just a few extra leniencies and it was exactly what she needed.

Left to her own momentarily, Anthea went to her bedroom to place her pyjamas down on her bed. She noticed that the sheets had been cleaned and changed lately, the smell of the clean sheets – the same washing powder that had been used on her pyjamas – filled her senses and she smiled. Afterwards she wandered into the kitchen and scanned through the Italian restaurant's menu and writing down what she wanted on the notepad and pen that had been placed on the counter waiting for her.

Anthea headed into the study, book in hand. Mycroft was sitting at his desk, reading through files. She wondered how much she had missed at work and considered asking to help but knew she'd be turned down. Instead she settled down on the couch near the bookcase and opened her book to start reading from the beginning.

"Wuthering Heights again, my dear?" She looked over to see Mycroft's steel eyes watching her, pen frozen mid-word. She smiled and rolled her dark eyes at him.

"It's my comfort book, leave me alone." She sighed. Mycroft sniffed a noise that Anthea knew to be a small laugh and went back to work. Now to settle in and get lost in a wonderful story. "Do you mind if I put my feet on the couch?" She asked.

"Be my guest."

She couldn't tell you when she fell asleep, nor how far she got through the book before she drifted off. All that was apparent was that at some point Anthea had indeed fallen asleep reading Wuthering Heights, her dreams filled with the rolling moors rather than of dark alleyways.

Anthea woke up in the middle of the night lying on the couch in Mycroft's personal study. Her book had been closed and placed on the side table and a soft red blanket had been placed on top of her. The blanket smelt like Violet Holmes' house. She considered getting up and going to her bedroom but she was comfortable here. It smelt like books, and files, it smelt of Mycroft's soap and of Violet's home. She could sleep comfortably here.

Author's Note: She's a little out of whack, but can you blame her? Our girl will be back in fighting spirit soon enough though. As per usual I'd like to take a moment to thank the guest reviewers; Corrine, Connie, ovejalucifer, ValkyrieDefender, Wheezzy8, marie, JohnsStethoscope, Wink, toolazytologin, and Guest. I hope part two met your expectations, I really can't wait to hear what you thought of it!

The Mycroft chapter is up! It is "The First Big Fight – His Point of View" and you can find it on my profile. Technically the Gala won before the Fight but I want to keep the Gala for later ;P. Please go read it because it's my love letter to you guys for being amazing people.

Also, don't forget Anthea's blog if you want to ask her questions about any of the recent chapters or anything at all. Thank you so much, guys!