Author's Note: Thanks for all the feedback last chapter! I'm very glad you're all happy with the revenge that was served nice and cold. Poor Tim :P. James' speech seemed very popular last chapter, which was very nice to see. So this is chapter 50… 50 guys! If you guys hadn't embraced this the way you have, there's no way I would have lasted this long. Also, confusing title for an orphan. It'll make sense. You're all amazing and I wish I could have given you a better chapter 50 but given how hard it is for me to type right now, this is the best I could do. I hope you all enjoy it! Please 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 Time Her Family Came First

Anthea's nerves were shot as she placed Mycroft's habitual morning cup of tea on his desk with very shaky hands. She was lucky not to have spilt any of the warm liquid on any of the paperwork on his desk. Mycroft's steel eyes that had been previously studying her hands were now searching Anthea's entire body – doing a full analysis of her well-being. Anthea just wanted to walk out of the office and sit back down at her desk alone and work but she let her boss make notes on whatever clues she was giving out to him. Mycroft pursed his lips. His eyes shot back up to Anthea's.

"Who died?" He asked in that overused neutral tone that was void of true emotion. Anthea frowned and looked down to the floor.

"I got a call from my uncle this morning." There was a crack in her voice. Mycroft nodded as if he expected this answer.

"I repeat," He used the same tone. "Who died?" With her shaking still present, Anthea ran her hand through her hair, accidentally separating her carefully styled curls.

"My grandmother." She breathed. "My last grandparent." Her voice was louder but still, it croaked, betraying her. Mycroft raised his eyebrows and looked down at the pen he was currently busying his hands with by twirling.

Much like how Anthea was never close to her uncle, when her parents died Anthea distanced herself from the three remaining grandparents. It was easy, she'd only seen them on special occasions anyway. Even then, to the young girl that felt like far too often. It was too much for her. She didn't want to hear how much she looked like her mother when she was her age, or hear stories of her father's childhood. The thing is, and this is a very big thing, now she couldn't hear any of this if she wanted to. Besides her uncle and cousin, any link, any piece of her parents that remained when they died was now gone. Sure, she had a pair of her mother's shoes, but that green colour of her eyes, the same colour that her grandmother had was now lost to the world forever. That green with flecks of a golden hue. Gone.

Anthea couldn't think about that – it was putting her on the verge of tears. Anthea looked up to the ceiling and blinked away any tears she could. When she looked back down Mycroft was looking at that pen with a deeply sombre look.

"I'm sorry, my dear." He mumbled. Mr. Holmes, offering condolences? That broke her. Anthea sniffed a laugh as a few tears escaped her eyes and fell down. She caught them before they could cause streaks in her makeup. "I suppose there will be a funeral." Anthea swallowed the air and nodded.

"Sunday."

"Very well, have Saturday off for the travel." A pause. Steely blue eyes left the pen and landed on chocolate eyes. "You can go home if you need to, Alice." Once again the sign of compassion from her boss caused Anthea to need to wipe away tears.

"I think I need to stay, sir." She sniffed. "I think I need a normal routine." Mycroft did not answer, he simply nodded and shooed her away with a flick of his hand as he turned to his computer. It was normal and weird enough to make Anthea smirk.

She was walking out of Mycroft's office to her own desk when Anthea paused.

Should she ask him? No, it was completely unprofessional. But she needed support to go home and see those people again. But asking Mycroft for that support? Really? No, he's been pushing the two of them to act more professionally to one another. Anthea hadn't been to his house since he had that meltdown over the bookends… But God, this whole thing just sucked and she just wanted to feel normal.

Anthea turned back around to face Mycroft's desk. She looked to the ground briefly before opening her mouth.

"Sir," She squeaked. Mycroft looked up from his screen, face blank. "I'm allowed to take a, well anyone to the um… the funeral and the wake."

A pause.

"Do I have any meetings over the weekend?" Anthea shook her head. Mycroft shrugged as he turned back to his computer. "Since I have nothing better to do…" That was a Mycroftian yes. Anthea smiled.

"I'll put it in the schedule."

Of course she'd visit the office this week. The one week when Anthea couldn't be bothered pretending to be pleasant.

The stupid dainty knock was followed by the entrance of the one, the only, Charlotte Cunningham into the great wooden office. Why couldn't they have been in the Dungeon today? Today Miss Cunningham was in a pantsuit with her bleached hair pulled into a ponytail. She looked stunning, but she always did. Anthea was wearing the same suit jacket as yesterday and had been too emotionally exhausted to style her hair so the natural waves of her hair were twisting and flicking anyway they wanted. Anthea gave the university lecturer a cold, tired stare as she approached elegantly with a fake smile plastered on her lightly painted lips.

"Good afternoon, Anthea." She smiled.

"Oh good," Anthea widened her eyes sarcastically. "You remembered my name without having to stop and think."

"I made a point to remember it." I bet you did, you're so perfect. Charlotte's gaze fell onto the sapphire jewel around Anthea's neck and that fake smile fell just a little from her angular face. It was enough to pull Anthea's own mouth into a small smirk. "Lovely necklace." Charlotte hummed, a little lost sounding.

"Thanks." Anthea stopped herself from sneering. "It was a gift from Mr. Holmes." Charlotte took a steady breath.

"Yes, I remember it from the auction." Then what are you doing here? Anthea tilted her head at Miss Cunningham.

"Can I help you?" That was a little more polite than what was in her head.

"Well, I'd very much like to see Mycroft."

"He's working." Flat. No hesitation. Charlotte didn't even flinch.

"I promise you it will only take a second." Without taking her eyes off Charlotte, Anthea placed her finger on the intercom button. That machine she barely used.

"Sir, do you have a moment?"

"What is it, my dear?" Anthea's smile widened.

"There's someone here for an impromptu visit."

"Really?" Anthea could hear the scoff. "Tell them to make an appointment."

"Not that type of visitor, sir." Silence followed.

"One moment." Anthea took her finger off the button and folded her hands together on the desktop.

"One moment." She repeated in a sickeningly sweet voice that felt wrong, even in her sarcastic, Charlotte despising mood. The woman herself was taking it all very well, with her polite smile in return. She'd probably be calm during the apocalypse. Neither she nor Anthea attempted to converse in the wait for Mycroft, which Anthea was thankful for. Even Mycroft had been aware of Anthea's emotions enough so far this week to know that the girl just wanted to be left to do work. She had no connection to her parents left – she sucked and she was at work to feel better.

Mycroft emerged from his office and it seemed that h was not one bit surprised to see that the identity of the mystery visitor was Miss Cunningham. Anthea's edge over the intercom probably gave it away.

"Charlotte." Mycroft greeted as he approached the sophisticated blonde. Charlotte smiled and made no attempt for physical contact. It seemed she remembered Anthea's tips.

"Hello Mycroft, how are you?" Ah, small talk. Perhaps she had not listened enough to those tips.

"Fine, thank you." He kept himself from frowning as he hazarded a quick glance over to his personal assistant who was watching from her desk. "We're quite busy, Charlotte. If you excuse my bluntness, what is the nature of your impromptu visit?" Anthea chuckled to herself.

"The university I work at is hosting an alumni night. A few of those scientists we were discussing are planning to go." Mycroft's eyes held a faint sparkle of amusement.

"Oh?" He hummed. Charlotte smiled. It was her flirting smile, small and bashful, every woman had that in their tool belt. That doesn't work around here, sweetheart.

"If you'd like to accompany me, I'm sure they'd enjoy talking about that theory of your mother's you we were discussing."

"Certainly." Mycroft nodded. Anthea sighed and opened the calendar on her computer in preparation for the next question to come out of Mycroft's mouth. "When is it?"

"Sunday afternoon."

Oh.

Anthea's hand froze on the mouse as she stared at nothing at all. Of course it was Sunday. What other day would it be? Charlotte bloody Cunningham – the bane of Anthea's existence. Sometimes Anthea wondered what horrible thing she or one of her ancestors did to give her life a string of bad luck.

"Ah." Mycroft's sound of resignation broke Anthea from her stupor. She looked back to the extremely well dressed pair just in time to catch Mycroft looking over to her. "That is a rather unfortunate date, Charlotte." The anger that Charlotte always caused in Anthea ignited into a silent rage. Of course it was an unfortunate date. If Mycroft wanted to go he should just go. When did he care about anyone else ever anyway?

"But sir," Anthea was silently seething. "Your weekend plans were made under the understanding that you had nothing better to do." Her leg was furiously tapping away under her desk. Silver was held to chocolate. "If you wanted to go to Miss Cunningham's event I'm sure Miss Clarke could just take that friend of hers. What was the name…? Miss Thompson I believe." Mycroft was studying Anthea's stony face. Come on, Myc. Who is it? Charlotte or me?

"Surely your friend will let you come to this instead of what I assume is another boring party." Charlotte laughed. Anthea used all her self-control to stop her eyes from narrowing on the leggy blonde.

"We know which event you'd find more interesting, sir. Why don't you just go?" Mycroft quirked an eyebrow. Anthea faked the most earnest smile she could. Come on Myc, after all I've done for you, I dare you to pick her.

"You're both correct," Mycroft turned back to Charlotte. "Send the event details to Anthea and I'll make sure I'm in attendance." Anthea sighed as she turned back to the computer and cleared to weekend event already scheduled.

Anthea went home early that day. Only half an hour after Charlotte left, she excused herself and called for the town car. When Walter asked her what was wrong, Anthea broke into tears. She cried in front of the driver because she felt completely alone in London right now. Alone in the world, really. It turns out, Walter is very good at giving comforting hugs.

Jerk! – Jamie x.

Asshole! – Jamie x.

Idiot! – Jamie x.

We know what he's like. I practically dared him to do it. I presented her and her stupid event to him like a gift with a pretty bow on top. – A.

The idiot should know better. He knows you. Isn't he supposed to be able to read people? – Jamie x.

Oh that's right, he's a selfish jerk who doesn't care about other people. – Jamie x.

I could slap him. – Jamie x.

Are you going to come to the funeral with me or not? – A.

Of course I will! I love you, Ali. Don't go to a hotel, come stay at my place. – Jamie x.

You live like a town over – A.

So? Still in traveling distance. – Jamie x.

Good point. And I love you too, Jay. – A.

Can I text James and tell him to go punch Einstein in his big nose? – Jamie x.

Better not. James might actually do it. – A.

Anthea and Jamie chose seats close to the front of the church. Anthea in black was nothing new, but seeing Jamie in a modest black dress with stockings just proved what a sombre occasion this was. It was a good thing Anthea and Jamie had remained close since school and could rely on each other. Anthea would be lost right now without the girl. Jamie help Anthea's hand with her left and texted with her right. She must have felt Anthea's gaze on her as she smirked to the screen.

"Don't freak out, Ali. I'm just telling James that it's going to start soon so I need to go." Anthea rolled her eyes and groaned, getting a playful poke of the tongue out in response. "He says when you get back to London he'll take you out and get you drunk. He says that will make you feel better." Anthea sniffed a laugh.

"So you like him then?" She asked quietly. Jamie placed her phone in her handbag and smiled at her best friend, hazel eyes practically glowing with joy and excitement.

"He's so funny. I can't wait to go on an actual date with him sometime instead of just chatting."

"That's good." Anthea smiled. She meant it. It was nice to see her friend with… not a good guy, Anthea knew what he did for work… with a nice guy. Someone who she could also threatened and he'd actually he'd her warning.

"It's funny, he uses Anthea and Alice about as equally as each other when we're talking about you. Says he gets confused so just calls you 'A'." It was cute to see Jamie excited about talking to someone about "Anthea" and getting to learn that side of Alice. The thing is, Anthea wasn't in the mood for jovial conversation. She simply nodded and faked a small smile at her friend.

"He does do that." She sighed. She really did appreciate all Jamie's efforts at cheering her up with this happy talk but Anthea just couldn't be bothered.

They lulled into a silence as Jamie's thumb stroked the back of Anthea's hand in repetitive patterns. It was soothing and calming. It allowed Anthea to empty her mind and focus on the movement.

"Is this seat taken?" Anthea and Jamie looked up to see Mycroft Holmes, looking just as prim and proper as usual in a black three piece suit, leaning on his black umbrella all suave like. He was talking about the end seat of the row, next to Anthea. Anthea did nothing, just shook her head. Without any hesitation Mycroft sat down next to the PA. Jamie took the opportunity to lean over Anthea, pointing a finger at Mycroft.

"You!" She hissed as quietly as she could. "You are so lucky you turned up today!" Mycroft lightly shook his head, holding back the smirk that tugged at the edges of his mouth.

"It's a pleasure to see you too, Miss Thompson." Jamie muttered something angrily as she sat back in her own seat. Her hand tightened around Anthea's. Anthea sat silently between the pair, debating what to say. Every time she thought she knew what to say to the man next to her she'd change her mind.

"Did Miss Cunningham's even get cancelled?" Anthea asked, looking straight forward towards the altar.

"Of course not."

"Then why are you here?" She answered a little too quickly and sharply, cutting the very end of Mycroft's sentence off. Mycroft's response did not come immediately. He took his time to look the brunette over before choosing his words.

"Because I had scheduled a far more important event." Anthea scoffed at this answer.

Silence.

"Because I saw how lost you were when you found out, because I can see how being an orphan pains you at least once a month, because you left early on Thursday, because you've sat at my brother's hospital bed, but mostly because if Mummy ever found out I went to the university event instead of this she'd never forgive me." Anthea sniffed a laugh. She hadn't forgiven him. Not really. She'd remember this. Still, Anthea shifted closer to Mycroft absentmindedly and could feel him tense as their shoulder's touched. He did not move away.

"It's good you're here. Could you help me with whatever I get in the will and make sure my uncle doesn't sell anything with my name on it? He sold my parent's house."

"I'll absolutely help you." Mycroft smirked. "Shall I go talk to him now?" Anthea heard Jamie snicker under her breath.

"Not now, wait until after the wake." Jamie leant over Anthea to once again talk to Mycroft.

"Poke him with your umbrella. For me." Anthea pushed her back to her seat as the girl laughed again. Mycroft tilted his head at her with a confused frown mixed with a smile.

These two, honestly.

Thank God they were here today.

Author's Note: There it is, chapter 50! What do we think? I hope it was good enough to mark the occasion. The idea kind of came from a question on Anthea's blog and it merged with one of my own ideas to become this. Let me know what you think! Time to thank the lovely guest reviewers since I can't thank you personally like everyone else. Thanks to: Britta, Corrine, Loyal Elf, and Wink. I should theoretically thank ovejalucifer who I know has been reading despite travelling… I can forgive the lack of reviews for that. Haha. Thank you to absolutely everyone who reads this and/or reviews. You're all the reason we've reached 50 chapters so far!

And thank you for being so patient with my while my arm is really bad. Hopefully this will all be over soon. Thank you for all the well wishes and people checking up on me. You're all too kind.