Author's Note: Hello, hello! How are we all doing? Thanks so much for the kind words last chapter. I'm so glad you found it cute and funny – you've been asking me to bring back drunk Mycroft for a while now. I answered any questions raised by those who have accounts and I hope I answered them well enough. Now, this chapter! So… It was very quick to write, which was surprising. Then again, it's almost one long scene… almost. My best friend and I had a laugh when I came up with a part of this while still in Sydney, so I hope you like it. Let me know what you think. 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 Mummy Heard About The 'Understanding'

Violet and Siger had recent returned from their latest holiday. Perhaps holiday wasn't the best word, it was more like an adventure. Even when the kids were little, apparently all holidays had a bit of adventure to it – sometimes Mycroft loved it, sometimes he hated it. This time their adventure was to Egypt. It was apparently a place they'd talked about going to together since before they had children, but kind of forgot about it as people tend to do. Anthea could just imagine them taking in as much culture as they could while also doing the very tourist type things. Violet just had that passion that Sherlock inherited, and Siger was the type to just soak everything in.

As it seemed to be, particularly since Sherlock had been away, Anthea had been somewhat accepted into the family. So it was no surprised when Mycroft, with a heavy sigh, informed her that his parents wished for her to come when he visited them at their house over the weekend for a welcome home. It was nice, and Anthea really enjoyed it there. She suspected that was why Mycroft had made less of a fuss to his mother over the phone about bringing Anthea than he used to before they'd started this so-called understanding.

Friday after work, Anthea and Mycroft packed light, and headed to his parent's house to stay overnight. Greeted with the usual big smiles and warm hugs from everyone except Mycroft, they were ushered inside to what had become the habit act of sitting around the wooden table in the kitchen with a cup of tea. Violet and Siger were the type of people who always returned from places with gifts for their family – always thinking of the boys in particular before themselves. One time, they'd even given Sherlock to give a gift to John – who they'd never met – because it sounded like something he'd like due to the style of his writing. This time around, Anthea had been given a beautiful dress and a lovely silk scarf, while Mycroft had received a rather large book in Arabic about the pyramids and other tombs, as well as a little souvenir knock off of an Ancient artefact. Siger had joked that he and Violet had considered stealing the real thing out of a tomb, but thought at their age they were safer getting a knock off. Mycroft had said he'd far prefer a little trinket than the memory of bailing more members of his family out of prison. Anthea was reminded of the time he'd even had to come get her after she punched that guy.

Anthea had learnt from both Jamie's and Mycroft's mothers, that when kids came home for a night or so, their mums seemed to like to feed them. That's why Anthea had not been surprised when they'd smelt cooking as soon as they stepped into the house, and found out that dinner had been cooking for a while by the time they arrived.

Thus the evening continued as these nights generally do. Catch up talk and light conversation over dinner, then Mycroft and Violet would talk about some new theory while Siger showed Anthea an old book he had over coffee. Then began the Holmes ritual of Friday night bored games with tea and biscuits. To have a routine like this every time they visited, to have a spot at the table she always sat in, Anthea really loved being included in a family. She knew she wasn't Sherlock and that they'd probably love to have their youngest son back, but Anthea hoped that her presence helped take away the feeling of absence, the same way they helped take away some of hers.

After resigning to the fact that she was going to lose this game of Scrabble, Anthea played a measly word for a so-so score, and leaned back in her wooden chair with a huff.

"I think I need some water instead of caffeine." She mumbled, rolling her eyes, feeling embarrassed and a little stupid. Siger chuckled softly, while Violet clicked her tongue and gave Anthea a look of empathy. "Does anyone want anything while I'm up?"

"I'll get it for you." Mycroft hummed, placing his tiles face down, apparently suspicious of family members trying to cheat while he was away.

"No, Mycroft, I can get it." Anthea smiled lightly. "I wouldn't want you to break your concentration." She mocked. Mycroft sniffed at her as he stood up.

"Nonsense." He spoke as he place a hand on her shoulder as he walked past. "Of course I'll do it." She turned to look at him as he got out a glass.

"Why? Because I'm so pretty?" She batted her eyelashes a few times.

"No. Because you're such a terrible Scrabble player." She laughed lightly under her breath and turned back to the table to watch the progress of the game, only to see Violet's narrowed eyes flickering between Anthea and Mycroft. She looked suspicious, with her lips slightly pouted, glasses on the tip of her nose. Anthea frowned, and smiled anxiously, as Mycroft returned and placed the glass to Anthea's side before sitting down. It was Violet's turn but she made now move the play, she continued to survey the pair, her index finger now swung back and forward to Anthea, then to Mycroft, and back.

"What's going on here?" She asked, voice low, sounding more like Mycroft than Anthea had ever heard anyone else ever sound. Cold, low, and suspicious. "What was that?" Mycroft quirked an eyebrow at his mother. Siger was watching his son carefully. "Are you two dating?" Mycroft scoffed.

"No Mummy, we're not dating." He rolled those steel blue eyes.

"Why did you say it like that?" Violet asked, pulling her glasses off to get a better look at her oldest son. "Why did you put so much emphasis on dating?" She tilted her head to the side. "There's no reason to do so if the answer is simply no."

"Um." Anthea hummed, interrupting as she pushed a curl behind her ear. "Apparently we have an understanding." She used air quotes when she said the "u" word. Violet's sky blue eyes landed on Anthea, full of confusion as if she was speaking another language. Siger Holmes burst into laughed, placing his head on his arm, lying on the table.

"I'm sorry." He was still laughing hard as he sat back up. "But that is the most Mycroft thing I've ever heard." Anthea couldn't help but grin – it felt like someone understood. Siger wiped tears out of his eye and sighed. "This is even better than when he made me sign a contract to check his bedroom for burglars every night when he was three." Violet clicked her tongue again, much in the same way Mycroft always did.

"Siger, this is no laughing matter." She breathed in exasperation, shaking her head in small, fast motions. Her husband did stop laughing, but he was still grinning from ear to ear. Violet turned back to her son. "Mycroft what is wrong with you?" She chastised. Mycroft sat up straighter in his chair, looking down his long nose at his mother.

"Excuse me?" He challenged her.

"Don't talk to me that, way, young man." It is always awe inspiring to see how quickly Violet Holmes can make her son's shut their mouths. "You have this beautiful, smart, young lady who actually finds your quirks endearing, and you enjoy her company, and what do you do?" She paused, like all good parents and teachers do, as if expecting the person their chastising to answer it seriously. After a brief pause Mrs. Holmes threw her arms in the air. "You ask for an understanding?" She rose her hand. "And don't you dare question how I could possibly know that? Even your father knew that had you written all over it."

"Mummy…" Mycroft sighed.

"No, Mycroft." She gave him a cold hard stare. "I can't believe you." She folded her hands on her chest and heaved a heavy sigh. Violet turned to her husband and shook her head. "Siger, where did we go wrong?" The man being spoken too just chuckled lightly again. Mycroft and Anthea exchanged a quick look before Anthea once again ran her hands through her hair.

"It's okay, Mrs. Holmes, really" The motherly woman turned to face the PA. Anthea smiled warmly. "We're happy." She pursed her lips, turning to give her son a once over, before turning back to Anthea.

"Are you sure, dear?" Anthea crinkled up her nose.

"If he does do anything really wrong, you'll be the first person I tell." She tilted her head and threw the older woman a lopsided grin.

"If you say so, dear." Violet sighed, uncrossing her arms. "Don't misunderstand, I'm very happy for the both of you, I'm just very disappointed with my son." She pointed her index finger right at Mycroft's face. "And I'll want a word with you before you leave, Mycroft Holmes."

"Mummy-"

"No buts. And Alice, I'll want to talk to you before we retire this evening, okay, love?"

Of course it was okay. Even if she was only going to say negative things, any advice from Violet Holmes was welcome to Anthea.

It was late – a little too late. They'd gotten carried on a particularly viscous game of Monopoly, and lost track of time. Sadly, no one could overtake Mycroft, whose slow game at the beginning paid off tremendously. With that complete, and no hard feelings around the table, Siger and Mycroft disappeared upstairs, leaving Anthea leaning against the kitchen bench while Violet put away the last couple of dishes. When Mummy Holmes had finished, she threw the dish cloth down on the counter and turn to Anthea with a huff. She took a minute to watch the younger girl, leaning on the bench, curls now messing, looking impish like a child preparing to be told off. Violet gestured with one hand for Anthea to come closer.

"Come here." She said in conjunction to the action. Cautiously, Anthea took two small steps forward. To her relief, Anthea found herself pulled into yet another warm hug by the woman. Mrs Holmes' hand rubbing Anthea's back. Anthea smiled, and reciprocated the hug tightly. Violet pulled back to be able to look at Anthea's face, but left her hands on Anthea's arms – giving the girl's arms a rub. "I wanted to make sure you knew how happy I really was." Anthea laughed.

"Of course I did." She smiled. Really, Violet had been trying to play matchmaker long before the idea even crossed Anthea's mind. She remembers it all quite vividly.

"I knew you were good for him from the moment I saw you." Violet continued, and Anthea felt her face going warm with a faint blush. How embarrassing. "But dear," Violet let go of Anthea's arms in order to place one hand gently on the side of Anthea's face. Violet cocked her head faintly to the side as she searched Anthea's dark eyes. "Do be patient with him, he's a bit of an idiot." Anthea rolled her eyes, loving how much like her son's the kind hearted Violet really could be.

"I know he is." Anthea agreed, humour clearly heard in her voice. "And I'm trying." She nodded. "And he's trying. The moment either of us know it's not working we're ending it."

"You sound so sure that it will reach that point, dear." Violet hummed, again so like her sons. Anthea shrugged.

"It's Mycroft." She tried to play it off. "He's trying, but I know him." There it was, that knowing smile on Violet's lips as she nodded in what Anthea presumed to be understand.

"Be patient with him, dear." Violet repeated, this time with the tone to match that knowing smile. "That's all I can offer you." And with that, Anthea was dismissed to go to bed.

But instead of going to bed, instead of going into the first door to the second door on the right as you reach the top of the stairs, she walked to the end of the hallway to what she knew to be Mycroft's childhood bedroom. She stopped hesitantly with her hand hovering in a knocking positing near the door, doubting herself. It might annoy Mycroft is he comes in just to talk to him now, when surely any silly little thing she was going to say could wait until morning. But no, Anthea wanted to see her… whatever he is, one more time before bed. She hadn't gotten to say goodnight, or even bye before he'd gone upstairs. Steeling her resolve, Anthea knocked lightly three times on the pale wood. Only a few seconds later, still dressed in his dress shirt and trousers, Mycroft opened his door.

"Hello." Anthea smiled bright. She didn't so much as get a response, so much as she was gestured inside with a sweeping motion of Mycroft's hand. She stepped in and, leaving the door open, Mycroft walked past her to sit down on the edge of his old bed. Anthea had to take the moment to look the room over. It was almost exactly what she had expected. An oak secretary desk, complete with cabinets and shelves stocked with papers, files, and books, sat against the left hand wall with a large bookshelf crammed with books next to it. Against the back wall and touching the right back corner, was his bed with dark blue sheets. Unlike Sherlock's room with stains and burns all over the place, the state of the room was immaculate. Except for a mark she could see under the bed, and she guessed they'd moved the bed to that position after Sherlock had done something in here. Mycroft didn't care for trophies or certificates, so they were all in Siger's office, but Mycroft had a bulletin board with fliers and old university notes still stuck up. It was weird and heart-warming at the same time, it truly cemented that the Ice Man had once been a kid, and that awkward teenager she often saw in photos around this house. Of course, however sentimental she was feeling, Anthea couldn't turn an opportunity to tease Mycroft down. So she cocked her head and quirked an eyebrow. "Is this the first time you've had someone you like in your bedroom?" She whispered cheekily. Mycroft rolled his cold eyes.

"I'm so pleased you entertain yourself, my dear. You have to be funny to someone." Anthea smiled at him for that comment. She wanted to sit down. She looked over to the desk and automatically wanted to sit there to give Mycroft some space. That was silly though, so she sat on the bed, a person's gap between her and the genius. She leaned back on her hands.

"I thought you might want to know I survived your mother."

"Yes, I appreciate that titbit." He nodded. "I doubt I'll be so lucky, however." Anthea sniffed, holding back a laugh, as she looked down.

"I also wanted to tell you how much your family makes me like you."

"As I suspected all along." Mycroft hummed, eyes glittering mischievously. "You're using me for my parents."

"Absolutely." Anthea shook her head, going along. "It's the only reason I'm still your PA after all these years." A lull as they both smiled softly. "But seriously," Anthea started again. "I see the way you interact with Sherlock when he was around, and with your parents, and it reminds me that you're not just this shadowy untouchable." Anthea looked down at her feet, smiling warmly to herself like a fool. She could feel his Mycroft's steel gaze on the side of her face. "I see you faltering to your mother, or making an effort to connect to your father, and I know it's not all ice… and…" She shrugs. "It's a strength no matter what you say, and I really like it. I like it a lot."

A silence.

"I suppose the appropriate response is thank you?" Anthea let out a single laugh and nodded. "Well then, thank you, my dear." Anthea let out a breath and shrugged again.

"That's all I wanted to say." She dismissed herself, standing up, Mycroft following suit and standing up right after her. She looked over at the open door, then back to the taller man who was still watching her face carefully. "Can I have a hug goodnight?" She asked, her eyebrows quirked, eyes glittering. There was a passing moment of silence, but not for a second did it feel like hesitation, more like a calculation. Once again he didn't answer verbally, but with a silent release of a breath he opened his arms up. Anthea wrapped her arms around the genius' waste and rested her head on his chest. She was relieved to feel warm arms on her back as it was reciprocated.

She didn't leave it too long, lest it make him uncomfortable. After a short and sweet hug, Anthea pulled herself free to glance up and give Mycroft one last warm smile. "Good night, Mycroft." She hummed.

"Good night, Anthea." He nodded.

And even though she felt like she had more to say, though she had no clue what that might be – maybe she just wanted an excuse to stay in Mycroft's presence longer, Anthea left Mycroft's childhood bedroom and headed to Sherlock's. In the morning he'd have a lecture from Violet and then they'd go home.

Author's Note: There we have it! What do you think? How do you think of the parents' reactions? I came up with it when I was still coming up with the whole 3 or so chapter set up for the understanding in the first place. I hope you enjoyed it. Anyway… Thanks to our lovely guests who I can't thank personally. Those guest reviewers are: Leelah, Tadaa, Guests x5, Corrine, enola, Cumberkale, Wink, Wheezzy8, Georgie, and Eggsbenedict… And ovejalucifer. Because, even though she hasn't reviewed lately she did comment to me personally on twitter about skim reading it and enjoying it…. So she kind of counts. But yeah, I love you all so very much. Thanks for sticking by this story, and I hope I continue to please you with it.