Author's Note: Hahaha! I'm glad we can all be united with Anthea due to our random dislike for Charlotte. Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews, guys! The fact that they still pour in baffles me and makes me extremely happy! This chapters not that long but I think you'll like it. Please read, review, and enjoy! I look forward to your feedback!

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 She Realised

They had an absolutely lovely week, by work standards anyway. It had been all smooth sailings and that almost never happened. Meetings rand quickly and efficiently, paperwork was filed quickly, time aplenty. No one was annoying; no one called with an emergency or randomly showed up at the office. It was the best Wednesday that had ever existed within this office. Mycroft and Anthea had a long coffee break where they played deductions in the park with Mycroft pointing out anyone who had a weird secret and Anthea making sarcastic jokes about it wherever appropriate and possible. Lunch was slow as they sat in Mycroft's main office in a comfortable silence, both answering emails and only sharing a work here or there. Usually only one of these things happened per day and was the particular bring spot of that day. Today was a shining beacon in this office and Anthea found herself genuinely smiling.

The enigmatic duo went to Mycroft's house around five in the afternoon to have a conference call from his desktop computer. Barely half an hour later the conference call was completed and all work for the day was surprisingly done.

Anthea sat at Mycroft's kitchen counter, a glass of red wine in front of her, her index finger lightly running circles around the rim of the glass, a small smile on her painted lips. Mycroft stood on the kitchen side of the counter, jacket discarded and shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, a glass of wine in front of him also. He was monitoring the oven while also enjoying all the free time they had somehow managed to build up this particular day.

"So what did you do?" Anthea laughed, her smile growing wider.

"What could I do?" Mycroft scoffed, swirling the glass of wine in his hand. "My father had me pinned to the ground by my shoulders, there was no escape. I had to accept Sherlock's duel." Anthea giggled again, taking a sip of her wine. She imagined teenaged Mycroft being pinned to the ground, Sherlock challenging him for ownership of Mycroft's 'treasure', also known as his secret stash of chocolate. Whoever lost had to walk the plank. Anthea had yet to learn what that meant in terms of little Sherlock's pirate games.

"Did you go easy on the kid?" Anthea scrunched up her nose. Mycroft smiled, taking a sip of his own wine, and shook his head.

"Do you think I'd ever go easy on Sherlock? Please, the child needed, and still needs to, learn that he is not the best at everything."

"But you were double his age and double his height!"

"And he had our father on his side." Mycroft picked up the bottle of wine sitting on the countertop to fill up their glasses. Anthea lightly pushed her glass across the counter to accept the refill.

"Alright, so you decimated a little kid?" Mycroft pouted his lips, steel eyes shining with defiance.

Ï wouldn't say 'decimated', "He shrugged. Ï merely demonstrated how to disarm someone with a single flick of the silly wooden sword." Anthea tucker a brown lock behind her ear and leant on her hand, look up at her boss.

"Congratulations sir, you won your chocolate back from your tiny little brother." She teased lightly. Mycroft rolled his eyes but his mouth was pulling at the edges, threatening a smile. "So you got to make him walk the plank. What was that in this context?" Mycroft chuckled, looking down at his glass.

"Walking the plank meant getting blindfolded and ambushed with cold water, one way or another." A pause as he reflected on the memory. Anthea watched his steel eyes as they seemed to look at nothing at all with a deep level of fondness she would not have noticed if she wasn't Mycroft's PA. "Most of the time it was a bucket over the head." Anthea tilted her head.

"Is that what you did?" Mycroft pouted and shrugged.

"Well…" He hummed. Anthea leant back in her stool and picked up her glass, holding it close to her chest.

"Oh no." She half sighed and half giggled. "What happened?" Mycroft quirked an eyebrow.

"Just as I was tying the blindfold onto Sherlock and making sure the petulant child couldn't sneak a peek. My father turned on the garden hose and assaulted us both." Anthea quickly placed the glass down as she threw her head back with laughter, unable to control the burst of hysterics.

"Well done, Siger!" She clapped her hands together. These were the best stories – the ones that revealed the Holmes' to be a normal family. She wiped tears from her dark eyes as she calmed down. Mycroft was trying to look annoyed but the sparkle in his eyes gave away his true enjoyment. "I bet you were furious with him."

"I was not half as mad as Mummy." He raised his eyebrows. "Father got an hour long lecture on how the weather was turning cold and if either Sherlock or I got sick, she was going to have his head." Anthea's smile turned to something more subtle as her heart swelled with warmth.

"That sounds like your mum." She sighed. "She's such a…"

"Mother?" Mycroft finished Anthea's sentence before nodding. "I believe it's what she does best." Anthea looked down at her glass and sighed.

"The thing I remember most about my mum is how she used to buy me new pyjamas every term for boarding school. Every single time." She sighed.

"Oh?" Mycroft asked politely even though Anthea was certain that he would have no interest in the matter at all. He would merely be humouring his frivolous assistant. Anthea nodded and took a sip of her glass.

"Yeah. She always wanted to make sure I had nice things to wear to bed so I would feel at home and cared for." Mycroft scoffed.

"She would be appalled by the fact you live in those flannel trousers and hole riddled t-shirts now." Anthea laughed lightly and nodded.

"Oh yeah, she would be." A moment of silence passed.

"My mother on the other hand is very used to odd obsessions and habits. Sherlock has had that scarf of his since he was fifteen." Anthea scrunched up her nose.

"And um, how old is your favourite umbrella, sir?" Mycroft gave her a flat look as she grinned.

"My dear, I was not talking about myself." Way to dodge the question, Mycroft. Anthea raised her hands in apology and surrender and nodded. Mycroft chuckled before turning back to the work stations of the kitchen.

As Mycroft busied himself cooking in the kitchen Anthea leaned on her hands and watched her boss. Sometimes she really couldn't understand why people were afraid or put off by him, she never was. He could be very intimidation and extremely cold, sure, but it was all a part of the Ice Man cover. Really when you dug underneath all of that he wasn't half bad. He was an awkward genius just like his brother, who only knew how to pretend to talk to people. He cared an unfathomable amount for his family members and that was adorable. Anthea was certain Mycroft would do anything to make sure Sherlock and John stayed out of any serious harm. He was very funny when he let you in close enough to hear the lightness underneath all that smugness and sarcasm. And if she were completely honest, with his elegance and presence, Mycroft Holmes was very charming and not too bad to look at either.

What?

Anthea spluttered on her wine, coughing over nothing but air and red wine. Mycroft turned around, blue eyes glittering with faint concern, mouth in a straight line. Avoiding those sparkling eyes, Anthea looked down to the bench, clutching at her chest as she tried to regain her breath. What was that? What had she just thought?

"Anthea?" Mycroft asked, neutral mask in place. Anthea took a few deep breaths as she waved her boss off frantically. She looked up to see deep intelligent eyes locked onto her, eyebrow threatening to quirk. Anthea frowned and shook her head.

"Um, actually," Anthea croaked. "I'm not feeling well all of a sudden." She put her heels back on her feet, jumped out of her seat, and grabbed her handbag as quickly as she could. "I think I need to go home."

"Miss James?" Anthea's heels clicked on the tiles as she walked quickly out of the room.

"Enjoy your evening, sir. I'll see you tomorrow."

She may have accidentally slammed the front door on her way out. She leant against it and caught her breath, trying to will her heartbeat to slow down.

Did she just?

No.

Surely not.

Anthea was still on the verge of hyperventilating as she entered her own flat. She dumped her handbag on the ground and rushed into her own kitchen. She turned on the tap and poured herself a large glass of water. She stayed put at the tap as she skulled it and refilled it in order to actually sip this glass. Between every small sip she too two deep breaths, counting to eight for every breath in and every breath out.

Okay, let's think over this rationally.

She said Mycroft was good looking? Well no, she said he wasn't bad to look at before, now she was saying he was good looking. Huh. Why? Why did she think that? Was it the wine in her system? Yes, of course it was the wine in her system! She worked with him so closely, some weeks Mycroft and Walter were the only people she ever saw. It was surely the fact that she was slightly intoxicated and Mycroft was one of the few people ever in her presence.

Still…

It was weird and rocked her world. What would she do now? Anthea scrambled back to her front door and snatched up her handbag. She searched frantically for her blackberry. As soon as her hand clutched it she dropped her bag and jogged over to her couch. She jumped onto the fairly new grey couch and began dialling Jamie's mobile number.

"Hey, Ali! How's it going?" Jamie's wonderfully cheery voice relaxed Anthea slightly – she felt her heart slow and her natural breathing deepen. Panic attack avoided.

"Jamie," Anthea sighed. "Something weird just happened." A long silence followed.

"Alice, what happened?" Jamie asked, concern ringing in every syllable.

"So I was just kind of hanging out with Mr. Holmes after work and…" Anthea hesitated.

"And?" Anthea gulped.

"And I freaked out and left in a rush because I randomly thought he was cute." Silence.

"Is that it?" Jamie laughed. Anthea blinked at nothing and began to frown.

"What do you mean 'is that it'?" Anthea almost yelled down the phone. Jamie began to laugh again.

"Oh, Ali." Her best friend sighed. "Let's face it, creepy smart guy is totally your type." Anthea scoffed.

"Why do you people all think I have a type?" She spluttered. "I don't have a type and Mycroft Holmes is certainly not my type!"

"Alice. He's tall, he's uber smart, and he can be kind of funny in that weird way only people with the same type of humour understand. I don't get it but I don't think you're funny half the time anyway…"

"Jamie! No. He's not my type at all." Anthea shook her head. A pause followed. "Since when have you thought he was my type?"

"From the first type I met him. He came all out suave and 'oh yes, my dear' and I wanted to roll my eyes. It's always been there, hasn't it?" Anthea could practically hear Jamie shrugging to herself. "It just took you ages to realise. He's totally your type. The only thing he doesn't have going for him is fit guys are also on your list…" Anthea blinked

"Stop saying he's my type!"

"Ali, what colour were the lawyer's eyes?"

"Tim? Green."

"What colour are government guy's eyes?"

"Blue, but like a deep steely colour."

"There you go." Anthea blinked. She took a deep breath and rubbed her eyes with her free hand.

"Jamie, what am I going to do about this?"

"…Nothing?"

"What do you mean? How can I do nothing?" Anthea laughed in disbelief.

"People are attracted to their friends all the time. It never affect friendships unless they let it, so why should it affect your weird boss/assistant relationship?" That's true, that's very true. James' attraction to Anthea hadn't changed their relationship in the slightest – they were still close and got along exceedingly well. She never felt uncomfortable around him.

"Or maybe when I wake up in the morning it'll just be gone." Jamie hummed in response.

"Maybe." She sighed. "Or maybe you'll just have to learn to live with it and ignore it. Like I have to with that super cute hairdresser at work." Anthea laughed and lowered her head at the mention of the hairdresser.

"Still won't pick up on your signals, hey?"

"I gave up on him months ago. Now I just watch him from a distance and hold him in goodbye hugs for a second too long."

Anthea was very disappointed the next morning when she awoke to find that it had not been the wine talking. She reflected on the late afternoon and early evening spent with her boss in his kitchen. If anything it had been the warm atmosphere – taking about childhood stories and laughing freely. Those bright intelligent eyes sparkling as her spoke of the time his father and brother were playing pirates and raided his bedroom. It was the way his slender fingers played with the glass as he reflected and thought deeply.

This would not do, this would not do at all. She'd have to play Jamie's game and try to ignore the whole thing and act like nothing was wrong. The problem with that was the fact that her boss could see through a brick wall.

As it turned out, Jamie's method really wasn't very effective in the slightest. After running out of Mycroft's house the night before, not even acknowledging it aw she came in to give Mycroft a cup of tea seemed to catch his attention. She noticed the way he watched her, the neutral mask in place as he was making all sorts of deductions.

"Anthea my dear, I'm just popping down to the club. I'll be back in about an hour." Mycroft's lyrical voice came as he walked past Anthea's desk to the coatrack, grabbing his beloved umbrella. Anthea kept her eyes focused squarely on her computer screen.

"Certainly, sir." She replied curtly. A pause.

"Miss James?" She picked up a pen and looked down to the piece of paper on her desk, pretending to write notes off of the screen.

"Yes, sir?" She asked, not looking his way.

"Look at me." Anthea hesitated but eventually chocolate eyes looked up to lock onto that steel gaze. Mycroft watched her carefully before pursing his lips and humming thoughtfully to himself. "I'll see you soon." Anthea nodded.

"See you soon." She echoed, giving her boss a lopsided smile.

In the afternoon Anthea was called into Mycroft's office. She knocked, waited a few seconds, and entered the room. Mycroft was writing on a document and as soon as she approached he placed his pen down. He looked her up and down and gave her one of his controlled fake smiles. The fake ones were never as nice as the real ones.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Anthea asked, pulling her jacket closer to her body and neatening it.

"Yes, my dear." He hummed. Mycroft gestured to the chair opposite his desk and nodded. "Please have a seat. This won't be long." Slowly Anthea made her way over and sat in her usual seat. The one she had sat in every time she was to be in this office for an extended time, from the day of her job offer onwards. She crossed her legs and tried her best to appear relaxed. Mycroft placed his elbows on the desk, folded his hands together, and placed his slender fingers on his lips. Anthea had to look down at her lap as she took a breath. She could feel him watching her carefully, analysing her from head to toe. There was no way Mycroft Holmes hadn't already seen right through her, and being this close was very dangerous. Anthea pushed her hair away from her face as she looked up.

"Look sir, if this is about last night-"

"And your subsequent behaviour since, yes." He hummed against his fingers. Anthea licked her lips.

"I'm just feeling a little off, sir, that's all." Mycroft pursed his lips.

"Yes, I know." He nodded and lowered his arms to the desk and leant back in his chair. "And it will pass." Anthea frowned in confusion and tilted her head.

"Excuse me, sir?" She did her best not to laugh nervously, a smile escaping in it. Mycroft smiled sombrely.

"Miss Clarke, whatever it is you think that you are feeling," He waved his arm lazily. "I can absolutely assure you that it will disappear as quickly as it appeared" Ah, so he had figured it out, just as she knew he would, and it seemed he believed it to be nothing. Anthea took a deep breath.

"Are you sure?" She asked sincerely. There was no use denying anything at the moment. Mycroft looked deeply into her eyes and nodded.

"Absolutely. Continue as normal and it will dissipate. It's merely a phase, Alice. With the time we spend together it was bound to happen at some point. Think of it as a form of Stockholm syndrome." Anthea laughed, breaking the tension.

"You don't keep me prisoner here, sir. I'm here most of the time by choice." Mycroft hummed and raised his eyebrows.

"You would say that if you had Stockholm syndrome." She giggled and shook her head.

"Stock-Holmes syndrome." She scrunched up her nose with a cheeky grin. Mycroft rolled his eyes and turned back to his computer.

"A pun, Miss James? Really?" He clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"Sorry, sir." Anthea smiled as she stood up. "Would you like a coffee?"

"Yes. That would be lovely, my dear."

Author's Note: I've been waiting to do this for a while. I knew this was how it was going to go down. What do you think? How do you think everyone is feeling? How are you feeling? I can't wait to hear! Thank you to the guest reviewers: Corrine, Wink, Wheezzy8, and JohnsStethoscope. Thank you of course to all of you! Also thanks for all the fun were having over at Anthea's blog! That place is amazing at the moment.

About the Mycroft chapter! I have the votes tally and I know which chapter it will be now ;). I can't tell you what one because I can't release it yet. I am unfortunately decently sick at the moment – I have bronchitis – and I didn't have the energy to finish it. Really it was finish the chapter for this or do the bonus chapter and I figured you guys could wait on that. Thanks for understanding.