Author's Note: I don't know where my head is right now, but I almost entirely forgot what the last chapter was. Ha! Thanks so much for all the extremely wonderful comments on the first date! I'm so happy that you all seemed to at least like most of it and that you approved of the approach I took. Thank you! This chapter was not going to happen. I had something else planned but I was still feeling stuff from the special and wanted something light. So you got this. It turned out pretty well all things considered but I don't know if it will hold a candle to last chapter. Anyway, I'm rambling. I hope you like 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.

The First Card Signed With An 'X'

Anthea had thought the plan to have lunch after work on Friday was flawless. A second date straight after work? What could possibly go wrong? What Anthea failed to keep in mind was that this was her, and this was Mycroft's schedule.

It was smooth sailing right up to Friday itself. Then the meeting had gone over by a whole hour. It was clear that both of them were annoyed as the minutes drew longer and longer. But what's an hour, right? Nothing. It's positively nothing in the long term scheme of things. Just when the optimism returned, so did the universe decide to rip it away again. This time it was in the guise of the CIA asking for an emergency video conference that would last for an indefinite amount of time. Oh well. They had all weekend, didn't they?

"How does tomorrow look for you, my dear?"

"Furniture shopping with James during the day, dinner with Carol's family."

"Ah."

"Sunday before you're scheduled to gather information in the evening?"

"Mmm, Sherlock related shenanigans, I'm afraid."

"Oh."

"Breakfast on Monday?"

"Breakfast Monday! Great!"

The Palace called on Saturday, asking for Mycroft's presence on Monday morning. How does one exactly tell the Queen that the Ice Man has a date?

That was that, then. This turned out to be a fruitless endeavour.

Anthea sat, staring at her computer screen on Monday morning while Mycroft was off having tea and scones with the Queen. She rested her cheek on her fist, absently clicking on various programs, finding she didn't have the motivation to actually start working on anything. You're supposed to use the weekend to feel refreshed and come into work with the energy for a week. Trying and failing to go on a second date with someone she thought this would never happen with, well, it was defeating and left her drained. She sighed to herself, clicking on the calendar, just to look at all the failed attempts.

But that's when she noticed it, sitting up in her chair. There was a lovely empty spot in two days' time, in the middle of Wednesday. It was about an hour and a half – as it included the lunch break – but it was certainly enough time to achieve some form of second date. Nothing as mundane as a quick coffee, of course. Nothing to get the people around the office talking, either… Hmm….

The lightbulb in Anthea's head went off as she whirled around to pick up the landline phone, curls hitting her on the nose. This was great. This was brilliant. She didn't know if Mycroft would quite like it, but it was inspired on her part. Picking up the receiver, Anthea hit the speed dial option for the only phone that rung out loud in the Diogenes Club – the back office for the managers.

It rang only twice. Heaven forbid someone might overhear it through closed doors!

"The Diogenes Club. Members only." Anthea rolled her eyes at the pretention. Really, how did they expect to get business? The only new members they ever managed to get were people recommended by current members. She still felt like sneering every time one of those grumpy old men glared at her for her heels clicking on the floor.

"I'm not a member." Anthea fought the urge to sound annoyed, instead putting on her work tone. "This is Mycroft Holmes' assistant." She heard the creak of a chair through the phone – she'd clearly grabbed the manager's attention.

"Miss A, it's a pleasure to hear from you. You have a lovely voice, if you don't mind me saying." His voice was full of the most sickeningly sweet fake politeness Anthea had ever head. Maybe it was better if these people didn't talk.

"Thank you." She sighed, fingers tapping on her desk. "Down to business. Mr. Holmes requires a room that is not our office or his regular suite. Do you have any of your nicer sitting rooms available on Wednesday around noon?" She heard clicking of computer keys.

"With a little rearranging, we can give Mr. Holmes any one he wishes."

"I want the one you deem the nicest. Pretty wallpaper, a nice view, it doesn't matter."

"O- okay." The man stuttered. It made Anthea smirk a little. If he thought that was strange, she can't wait for his reaction to her next request.

"It would also be appreciated if you could have your staff clear the floor of the room."

A pause.

A stutter.

"I'm sorry Miss, you want us to do what?" There it was. Disbelief and confusion. When did she decided she liked causing this to annoying people? She'd been in the world of the Holmes' for far too long.

"You heard me. He needs space on the floor. We don't care about coffee tables, dressers, and such. Leave them and the ornaments, and decorations. We want the couches and armchairs out." She heard another stutter followed by a single laugh of exasperation.

"Absolutely, Miss. Does Mr. Holmes require anything else?" Anthea tilted her head and stared up at the roof. Did they need anything?

"Reserve him his favourite scotch."

"Yes, Miss. It's all set."

"I'll drop by half an hour early to make sure it's all correct."

"Wonderful, Miss." Anthea hung up the phone, rolling her eyes again. The Diogenes Club… She hated the actual rooms, she was so unwelcomed there, but it was so perfect for her little plan.

The final step of the organisation process was simple. She waited for Mycroft to return to the office. He smiled at her as he took of his coat and placed it on the coat rack, along with his umbrella.

"Oh, sir." Anthea smiled at him, warmly and innocently. "On Wednesday I'll be spending some time at the Dungeon. I'll meet you there before lunch, after your meeting." Mycroft pursed his lips, and nodded.

"At the Diogenes office, my dear?" Mycroft asked. "That is surprising considering your predisposition towards the entire facility. Don't you usually get what you need and get out if we're not taking residence there?" Anthea bit the inside of her lip and shrugged nonchalantly.

"I need to redo the filing system. I figured the best time to do it is when you don't need me for something more important." His eyes narrowed on her for a moment, as he tried to see through whatever game he knew she was playing. It didn't matter if Mycroft could see through the lie, as long as he didn't discover the truth.

"Very well then…" He hummed suspiciously, keeping his eye on her as he walked past.

Excellent. That's all she could do until Tuesday night after work.

When Mycroft arrived at the Diogenes Club, Anthea was inside leaning against the wall besides the wooden doors. As Mycroft stepped in, she gave her boss a wave of her fingers to announce her presence. Seeing it out of the corner of his eye, he turned to give her his attention. Taking off his black gloves, he shoved them into the pocket of his coat as he looked Anthea up and down, trying to deduce her. She knew he was looking for any hint as to what she was up to. The girl had made sure the best she could that there would be no hint on her. No stray hair, no crumbs, she'd even reapplied her perfume. It would probably be obvious that she was covering something up, but at least it wouldn't be obvious what. When Mycroft quirked his eyebrow at her, Anthea knew he was posing a question to her. What was the personal assistant doing in the reception and not down in the Dungeon? Anthea waggled a finger, motioning for Mycroft to follow her. He made no sign that he was going to move. Instead he tilted his head to the side, questioning her further. Anthea just repeated her action and began walking to the stairs. Sometimes the silence of the club did come in handy.

Upstairs, and down a few corridors, Anthea came to a stop outside the door to the sitting room she'd booked. Mycroft came to stand next to her. The man didn't look confused in the slightest, he'd known from the beginning that Anthea was up to something, but he did look curious. Once again he quirked and eyebrow to silently probe her. Anthea through her boss a lopsided smirk before she unlocked the door and stepped in, Mycroft right behind her.

It was alright. Sure this wasn't the ideal scenario for a second date – the first that they both knew about – with a man like Mycroft Holmes, but it had come out pretty well. The staff had done what Anthea had asked, removing the couches and some furniture from the white walled sitting room. They'd left the coffee table, pushed against the far wall with its arrangement of flowers. This room had a decent view of the street. Again, a street view wasn't exactly ideal, but was okay. Better a view of people walking past than a view of a brick wall. Anthea had, on top of the club's own plush rug, place a tartan picnic blanket down on the floor. It was quite stereotypical and clichéd in the most perfect way. On top she'd placed two glasses, the bottle of scotch, and a picnic hamper. The hamper wasn't hers. What would she want one of those for? It was Carol's actually, from school carnivals and the like.

"Tada." Anthea sung very quietly as she shut the door. Mycroft looked around the room as if he were stuck in a very weird, slightly off, alternate dimension. He looked like he was scared of touching anything. Eventually his mouth pulled into what could be called an amused half smile. He turned back to Anthea.

"Is this what you do when I don't give you enough work to do?" Mycroft asked, gesturing around the floor with his index finger, like one might point to a spider they were afraid of. "Because, my dear, there are plenty of assignments I could give you." Anthea rolled her eyes, lightly shaking her head, but the coy smile remained on her face.

"We couldn't find time for a second date." She explained as she stepped forward to stand next to Mycroft just before the blanket. "So I took the time we did have and made us a quickie date." She raised her eyebrows cheekily. Mycroft's eyes studied her face, mouthing pulling at the edges just wanting to grow the smile on his face, but he wouldn't allow it. "What?" She laughed. The tall man looked down at the blanket and sniffed.

"I'm trying to decide whether you are insane, or ingenious." He hummed in that melodic tone. Anthea didn't know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult, but either way it made her feel warm and chuckle. The girl stepped forward onto the rug and sat down on her knees. She looked up, dark eyes meeting steel eyes, and patted lightly on the blanket.

"We only have limited time, Mycroft." She almost said 'sir'. Work hours. "Come sit down." This time he did look at her like she was insane, frowning and slightly scowling.

"On the floor?" He scoffed. "In these trousers?"

"It's a new blanket." Anthea sighed. "And there's no one here to see you slumming it but me." Mycroft looked over to the far wall with the flowers and clicked his tongue as he considered his options. It seemed that Anthea won, as the man very carefully came to sit down next to her. Anthea smiled, Mycroft's lip pulled into a brief scowl which only made Anthea more pleased with herself. She handed Mycroft the bottle of scotch to pour them both a drink as she opened the hamper. Mycroft watched over his pouring as Anthea brought out two plates.

"Did you order this from the kitchen?" He asked in his flat tone. Anthea pursed her lips and shook her head.

"No. It's from home." She heard Mycroft besides her make a noise very close to a groan. "Don't worry, I didn't cook anything." She sighed in exasperation. "I've got cheese – Gouda and vintage cheddar, strawberries," She pulled out the container hosting each item as she listed them, placing them on the blanket, "hummus, carrots and celery because we're trying to be healthy, and…" She pulled out a shopping bag last. "Brownies."

"So we're having an indoors, hour long, picnic?" Mycroft asked, face flat. Anthea nodded. "Do you do this type of thing for all your romantic interests?"

"Only the ones I actually like." Anthea quirked an eyebrow playfully. When she was met with a scoff, followed by Mycroft once again examining his surroundings like he was at a murder investigation, Anthea felt her face drop. "It was a gamble." She admitted. "But I took the chance." A pause as she pouted. "You don't hate it, do you?" Mycroft's face softened considerably.

"I think you're absolutely insane," He sung. "But I'm also very impressed." Anthea perked up, pleased to hear this.

"Good." She beamed. "Because if you didn't I was never going to do something like this again." Mycroft lifted the two glasses of amber liquid off of the red and white tartan material and handed one over to Anthea, who took it gracefully. He held out his own glass.

"To our second date." He toasted. They clinked glasses.

"To a very troublesome second date." She added before taking a sip of the warming liquid. Mycroft chuckled under his breath as he placed his glass down.

"Just be thankful we have the same schedule, my dear."

It was dark by the time Anthea got home after work, just like usual. She was tired, sure, but she was kind of invigorated by the little picnic in the middle of the day. It had been light, friendly, and far less weird than the first date had been. It was exciting, really, to think that this had become something. It was only a second date, but now that it had been a successful date it mean that there might be a future in this. If Mycroft didn't see something happening he would have said so at the 'understanding' phrase. It was too soon to say if Mycroft would be called her boyfriend – God, he'd hate being called that – but just the possibility sent electricity through Anthea's skin.

Anthea bid Walter goodnight as she got out of the town car, practically skipping up to her front steps. She chose to bounce up the steps, smiling to herself, rather than wait for the elevator. As her flat door came into site she saw something sitting at the floor of her door. Coming closer it was revealed to be a beautiful bunch of pretty little daisies. A business card to a florist had been left, meaning they had been delivered. The fact that they had been delivered here meant they were supposed to be a lovely surprise. Anthea picked up the bunch of flowers carefully and unlocked her door. She came in, placed the flowers down on the dining table carefully and then threw down her handbag. After wandering into the kitchen to fetch a vase of water, the brunette took the flowers from their plastic wrapping and placed them in the vase in the middle of her dining table. She took out the little white card that had been hiding within the daisies.

What's a quaint little picnic without daisies?

- M x.

That little 'x' at the end of the initials is what caught Anthea's attention. It made her pause, bringing the card to her lips and holding it there as she thought. There was nothing special about a little 'x'. Lots of people did it. Jamie sent her two, Jamie's mum sent her one. Tim had always left three when he left a note. But from Mycroft?

Anthea had received a lot of flowers from Mycroft over the years. These might be her favourite.

Author's Note: What do you think? I ran this idea past Lauren (the best friend you always hear about), and past ovejalucifer, and they both found it cute enough… So I hope it's alright. Do let me know. Thank you to the following guest reviewers; Georgie, Britta, Guests x6, bgeiner, EggsBenedict, MinaCarlyle, Tadaa, anon, and ovejalucifer (who finally caught up again!). Thanks to all my readers and reviewers, I value you immensely.