Author's Note: Hey guys! Thank you for your lovely comments last chapter – I really appreciate every sing one of them. Today's chapter has been stewing in my head for a while. I've discussed parts of it with my friend, Lauren, but other parts have simply been marinating in my brain. Ha, that's weird imagery. Anyway, I'm quite pleased with how it turned out and I hope you are, too. Please read, review, and of course; 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 They Shared A Bed

Anthea had her elbows placed on the tall counter of the concierge desk at the Hotel in Australia. Her eyes were tight shut as her fingers were placed firmly on both temples, trying to stop herself from physically bubbling over.

"What do you mean that is the only hotel room available to us?" She seethed as she opened her eyes. Besides her Mycroft was digging his umbrella into the stone tiled floor. "We'll go somewhere else, then." The man behind the desk gave an apologetic look, hands perched on the keyboard of his computer, as he shook his head.

"I'm sorry." He apologised. "You could try but the whole city is booked up." Mycroft clicked his tongue and looked away while Anthea went from rubbing her temples to running her hands through her hair. James had booked this. This would have never happened if Anthea had booked it. She'd come close already to blaming Mycroft until she looked at the booking date and realised it was booked while she was on leave due to her injury and not during the leak debacle. Anthea was already considering ringing up James and asking him if he did it on purpose.

"Why?" She sighed.

"There is a bridal expo and auditions for one of the television singing programs on at the convention centre, and at the show grounds there is a pop culture convention." The same weekend? The same weekend they and other invisibles were meeting to discuss a few current events. Anthea made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a cry of despair. Mycroft, too, took a deep breath as he turned to address the concierge.

"I don't care what silly events happen to be on at this very moment." He was talking in that chilly neutral tone, and no doubt his piercing eyes would be frightening to the poor man. "We are here for actual business. Important grown up stuff, if you know what that is. I would appreciate it very much if you could look again. I am willing to pay double, or even triple, the usual rate for the room." The concierge glanced to the worker on the other side of the counter dealing with other customers. With the look he gave the other worker, Anthea gathered that he was the manager.

"Normally, I'd say yes." The man spoke in hushed tones as he turned back to Mycroft and Anthea, head lowered slightly to avoid being heard from the manager. "But if I reassign rooms when they're all booked one of the managers will find out and I can't lose my job." Mycroft clicked his tongue and turned away, tapping his umbrella on the floor once more.

"Low levelled workers…" He scoffed with a very faint sneer on his lips. Anthea through him a sideways glance.

"Whatever, I understand." She said, although her tone merely sounded defeated, fed up, and slightly irritated. "Just give me the cardkeys, I'm sure we'll be fine."

"Well…" Mycroft hummed as he walked through the door into the hotel room. Anthea, behind him, knew that tone of voice. That high tone and hesitance meant that there had been an unwanted development and he'd already begun searching for a solution in his head. Curious to see what else could be wrong with this booking, Anthea slid into the room behind him.

Ah.

'Well' indeed.

One bed. The small, very beautiful, but small room had one bed. A Queen sized bed covered in that white linen and a couple of accents in black, like the thin extra blanket at the bottom of the bed. Now this isn't the first time they've shared a hotel room with one bed. They'd been on missions where to keep a low profile they got cheap rooms. The problem was they made sure those rooms had couches and one of them would sleep on the couch. This room didn't have a couch. There was an arm chair. Just one. Not even a second one so you could turn it into a cot type situation.

Anthea pursed her lips, placed her hands on her hips, and simple stared right through the bed while she too, wondered what they were going to do.

"This isn't a problem." Mycroft hummed, trying to sound too nonplussed that Anthea could tell that it was indeed a problem. "I'll sleep on the floor." He forced on a smile as he hooked his umbrella to the armchair and placed his baggage on the seat. Anthea, frown on her face, looked at Mycroft like he was insane. Mycroft Holmes, sleeping on the floor? Wow, he must be desperate.

"Don't be silly, you'll hurt your back." Anthea waved him off with a flick of her hand. She shook her head and dug her phone out of her trouser pocket. "I'll just call the front desk and ask for one of those cots to be brought up."

"Don't bother, they're all used up." It was Mycroft's turn to dismiss her, fake smile having made way for a look of mild irritation. Phone in hand, still frowning, Anthea tilted her head to the side prompting Mycroft to explain. "First of all, they're overbooked. They most likely have set up cots in double bed rooms for families. Secondly, those events all attract an amount of young people. Young people who generally don't have much money and would rather share a room with a cot thrown in." Anthea made a grunt of sorts in understanding and annoyance as she shoved her phone back away. This wouldn't have happened if she had booked the hotel. She watched as Mycroft wandered over to the bathroom door. He pulled it open, peered in quickly, and then shut it, his face falling further. "No bathtub either." Anthea had to scoff.

"Like I'd let either of us sleep in a bath." She almost laughed at the absurdity.

"Well not you, obviously. You still have a mild phobia of white tiles and bleach." Mycroft answered in that Holmsian know-it-all way. Anthea's face fell. She looked down at the carpeting and tucked a curl behind her ear. She was in the middle of taking a deep breath as Mycroft took a small apprehensive step in her direction. "I'm sorry, my dear, was that insensitive?" He asked. Anthea waved him off, looking up with her own fake smile plastered on even though she knew he would see through it.

"No, no, it's fine." She shook her head. "I sometimes forget I have an obvious weakness." She laughed. He didn't.

A pause.

Anthea tucked the same curl behind her ear again.

"Look, Myc." Anthea sighs. "We're a couple, and as far as I know, neither of us are intending to break it off anytime soon, right?" Mycroft's steel eyes were studying her carefully. He hadn't moved past the previous little incident yet, he was still trying to see if she was okay. Dismissing it finally, he pouted his lips.

"You're correct." He answered.

"Why don't we just share the bed then?" She shrugged. Mycroft looked over at the bed, and Anthea could see his brain ticking away. He was extremely unsure of what she'd just suggested, she could tell by the way he clenched then unclenched his jaw. "It's just sharing a bed." Anthea explained further. "Nothing else. Nothing couple-ish, nothing to do with the dreaded feelings, I promise you." She through him a lopsided cheeky grin as he turned to give her a glare. "It's just the best solution." Once again he looked over to the bed. Thirty seconds passed before the man sighed and shook his head.

"Unfortunately, you are correct my dear." He huffed. "That does seem like the optimal solution." Anthea had to laugh at him.

Never had it been so awkward to get into a bed with someone with only the intent of actually sleeping. Although, never had that person been Mycroft Holmes either. This was once again one of those situations where Anthea felt like she was having an out of body experience. She felt as if she was watching herself from the outside wondering how her life had gotten so strange.

She'd gotten changed in the bathroom into her usual pyjama trousers and old band tee. Mycroft was right, the bathroom did make her feel uneasy, so she quickly washed her face and brushed her teeth before exiting it.

When she came out Mycroft was awkwardly perched on the end of the bed, reading something off of his phone. As she closed the door behind her, his eyes pulled up to meet hers. She smiled awkwardly. He locked his phone and cleared his throat as he stood up.

"Right." He hummed, turning to face the bed. "I was waiting to see which side you prefer." Bless the poor awkward iceman, he sounded so unsure. Anthea's theory was further confirmed when she saw his brows knit together and he added. "People usually have a side, do they not?" She chuckled lightly but chose not to make fun of the man at a time like this.

"Yeah they do." She nodded with a gentle smile. "I'm a middle sleeper in my own bed but when I have to a usually pick the right." She gestured to the side closest to her and the door with a lazy hand. Mycroft nodded, wandering over and placing his phone on the left bedside table.

"Good." He didn't sound convinced. "I sleep on the left in my own home so then we won't run into any future issue." His frown deepened and he cleared his throat again, as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Not that we might encounter a situation again, I'm simply stating that it is convenient."

"Mycroft, you're panicking. Calm down." Anthea tried to keep the laughter out of her voice.

"I never panic." He added far too quickly and far too harshly.

"It's just sleeping."

"I know that." He snapped. Anthea didn't say a word. She pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow in bemusement. Mycroft took a breath and looked away. "Sorry. You're right, it's just sleep." He breathed out an apology. Anthea rolled her eyes to herself.

"Let's just go to sleep, yeah?" She laughed. The whole thing was quite hilarious in hindsight. Mycroft didn't seem to know when to actually get into bed. At first it seemed like he was waiting for Anthea to get closer to the bed to get in at the same time but then he hesitated, waited for her to get in first, and then got in.

Anthea could feel the awkwardness and the tension. It was not all his, but her own too. She was far too aware that she was sharing a bed with Mycroft Holmes. Both of them were quite close to the edges of the bed leaving a rather large unused space. Anthea was on her edge out of respect to Mycroft and his dislike of people, emotions, and people invading his space. Mycroft was mostly likely entirely unsure of what he was doing.

It didn't matter, though. Eventually they'd fall asleep and forget about the awkwardness. In the morning it would be fine, and they'd probably wake up in their normal sleeping positions.

Anthea lay on her back doing her best not to just stare at the wall. She thought that maybe if she just lay with her eyes shut she'd just fall asleep. It didn't work that way, apparently. Her mind was too busy and just would not shut up long enough to fall into deep sleep. It was all James' fault, too. If he'd booked this properly she'd have been asleep hours ago. Even when she did fall asleep, even the lightest noise from the hotel woke her up and she was back to square one.

Thud.

Like that.

Anthea, being half awake anyway, shot up in the bed as the loud noise echoed through the room.

"What was that?" She hissed quietly, trying to look around the room in the darkness.

"Nothing." Mycroft groaned. The voice sounded too far away, it didn't seem right. Anthea turned on her bedside lamp and glanced over to Mycroft's side of the bed. The man was standing up next to the bed, rubbing his lower back. Anthea pulled a face.

"Did you just fall out of the bed?" She asked in disbelief.

"It would seem so." He mumbled, a little embarrassed, a little angry. He looked so different in his whit fitted tee and his pyjama pants, with his hair all messy. He looked, well human.

"Mycroft, that's ridiculous." Anthea huffed. "We're not twelve, I don't have cooties."

"I was asleep." He argued. "Is it my fault that I subconsciously rolled over?"

"No, but it's your fault you're perched on the edge like I might attack you." Myc grumbled incoherently as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"You're no better, dear." He scoffed. "You're on the edge, staring at the ceiling. Your thinking is keeping me awake." Anthea groaned, running both her hands through her hair.

"You're right, we're being stupid." She huffed, looking up at the roof. "I'm not going to bite, and you're not going to shatter. We're going to go back to sleep like normal people." She looked over to see Mycroft watching her with pursed lips. "If I roll over and accidentally invade your space then you can just wake me up and tell me to move."

"Yes, yes, of course." Mycroft nodded. "We're acting childish. Let's try again."

Anthea felt extremely bad when she woke up close to the middle of the bed, hugging her pillow. Poor Mycroft, no doubt she caused him to panic. She looked up to see Mycroft on his phone reading something. Of course he was awake. He'd probably been awake since wandered into the middle. His steel eyes never flicked away from his phone, but he'd noted that she'd woken up.

"Good morning sweetheart." He hummed, scrolling on his phone. Anthea rolled back onto her side of the bed and sat up.

"Morning Myc." She yawned, causing her eyes to water. She wiped them dry and blinked a few times. "When did I invade your space?" She asked with a tired smile.

"I honestly don't know." He answered as he continued began typing on his phone.

"Oh." Anthea perked up. "That's a good sign. It means we calmed down and slept like normal people." She actually got a chuckle from him for that.

"It wasn't horrible, no."

A week and a half later, Anthea and Mycroft were back in London doing the same old same old work. Unfortunately the same old work sometimes included days like Friday, where a minor emergency would pop up in the pair would be stuck working on clean up until the early hours of the morning.

Anthea stretched out in the chair in Mycroft's home office. She relished the chance to stretch out her back and neck, feeling constricted and tight from hours spent huddled over her laptop and phone. It was a relief to finally have sorted all this drama out, like a weight off her shoulders. No doubt Mycroft was feeling the same, as he rubbed the back of his neck. Hopefully this would not lead to a headache for him tomorrow and a stiff neck for Anthea. Speaking of the morning, they were technically in tomorrow already. It was very early and she was very tired. Luckily tomorrow was Saturday, and her half day wasn't until the afternoon which meant she'd actually be able to sleep. Though there was no way she was going to drive home.

"I hope you don't mind." Anthea began as finished off her stretches. "I think I'll just stay in my room here tonight." No point asking, she knew he didn't really mind. Something about what she said seemed to peak Mycroft's interest as he forgot about rubbing the tension out of his neck and his full attention was now on the P.A.

"Yes, about that..." Anthea leaned back in her chair, watching Mycroft cautiously.

"Is there a problem?" She asked carefully. Mycroft mimed an 'oh' and waved off the notion with a swift flick of his hand.

"No problem at all, my dear." He reiterated verbally. In what Anthea could only describe as a nervous action, Mycroft scratched at his eyebrow with his ring finger. "I was simply going to suggest that…" He folded his hands together on the desk and cleared his throat. "Perhaps you'd like to attempt sharing a bed again."

Oh.

Anthea leaned further back in her chair. She didn't speak, not straight away anyway. She nodded slowly, her gaze stuck on Mycroft's face.

"You'd-" She stuttered and stop. Try again. "You'd be okay with that?" She asked, her voice high and light out of some low level of anxiety filling her body.

"Why would I suggest it if I were not for it?" Ah, yes. Typical Holmes response.

"Um…" Anthea looked down and scratched at the back of her neck, fluffing up her hair. "I mean I'd really like that." She smiled down at the floor before she remembered to lift her head to Mycroft. Mycroft swallowed the air and nodded.

"Good." He hummed quietly. "Good."

"I'll just..." Anthea pointed at the door with both her thumbs. "Get changed and stuff downstairs and then meet you upstairs." A pause. "Where's your room?" Her expression must look so confused, brow knitted, her tilted, but a half smile on her mouth.

"Last door on the left." Mycroft was stony and as calm as ever, though his voice was very quietly.

"Alright…" Anthea nodded one too many times. "Cool…"

Walking up the stairs, Anthea was nervous. It was a good type of nervous, the type that felt like butterflies fluttering around in your stomach, but she was still nervous. She'd never once set foot in Mycroft Holmes' room, nor did she ever dream she would. When she starting seeing him it became a possibility, but she never really thought about it actually happening. As she stopped in front of the door, the brunette had to shake her hands out just to get rid of the anxious energy and to be able to open the door.

It was exactly what she imagined it to be. Just as Anthea opened the door she was hit with all the smells she associated with Mycroft Holmes. First came the smell of his cologne, then the smell of his washing powder, followed by the faint smell of papers and secrets that was so Mycroft that it could never belong to anyone else. The bottom half of the walls were covered in a dark wood panelling that felt so old world she could imagine it lining the walls of the Diogenes club if it were two hundred years ago. The upper half was a red wall paper with an intricate pattern in a slightly darker burgundy colour that it was almost invisible until you caught sight of it, and then it was beautiful. All the furniture was elegant and beautiful, and belong on the estate of some rich family in a bygone time. Mycroft had once told Anthea he had no photos, but on his dressing table were two understated frames. One contained a photo of his parents when they were very young, younger than Anthea was now, and one of a child Sherlock with a puppy – presumably Redbeard.

"It's a bedroom, not the Taj Mahal." Anthea jumped, being pulled out of her wonder, and whipped her head around to the source of the noise. Mycroft was walking into the room, shutting a door behind him, dressed in his pyjamas, giving Anthea a look of amusement and annoyance at the same time. She guess that room was his ensuite. She sniffed a laugh and tucked a curl behind her ear.

"This is a big deal." Anthea shrugged. "For years people have been telling me you sleep in a coffin. I'm a bit surprised to see a bed." She crinkled her nose as she smiled at the man who merely sniffed and rolled those steel eyes as he sat down on the bed.

"Why do you think you're so funny, Ali, my dear?" He sighed, staring at her like she was a hurt child who wanted sympathy. "Did people used to pity you so much that they'd laugh just to make you feel better?" Anthea laughed a genuine heartfelt laugh, and it felt great. Just falling into their normal routine like that was enough to alleviate the tension. She still felt the butterflies dancing around inside her, but there was no weight crushing her down. She looked around the room once more, taking in a deep breath. She looked back to Mycroft and offered him a small smile.

"This room is lovely." She spoke quietly. Mycroft's steel eyes turned to look around the room.

"I'm rather fond of it." He responded. Anthea took that to mean thank you. "But the sun will be up soon, my dear. Enough chatter."

The blackout curtains stopped any sunlight creeping into the room. When Anthea woke up she had no idea what time it was and whether she should be up. Her alarm hadn't gone off so it couldn't be late. But was it too early to get up still? She'd have to check the time.

Anthea hadn't woken up once, and there certainly hadn't been any falling out of bed incidents so that meant that last night had been far more successful than the previous attempt, or they'd just been far too exhausted for their brains to put up a fight.

Of course, there was one thing on Anthea's mind. Had she drifted from her side of the bed? That would be a problem. Anthea stretched out her toes first, and then opened her eyes. She had indeed drifted towards the middle of the bed, but it seemed like she wasn't the only one. She had no idea how it had happened but she apparently was lying right next to Mycroft with their hands intertwined and her head resting on his shoulder. She didn't know how it happened, she didn't know which one of them had done it or whether they'd both subconsciously moved into that position. How strange. How odd is it to wake up so close to Mycroft that she could smell that smell of papers and secrets stronger than she ever had before. Obviously it was quite lovely. It was warm, comforting, and felt a little bit like home.

Anthea leaned over and picked up her phone with her free hand. It was seven in the morning. That was a decent time to wake up when she had work in the morning, so theoretically she could get up now, but it was the weekend. Anthea refused to budge until nine thirty on a day when she didn't need to be at the office until the afternoon. Good, that meant she could go back to sleep. She placed her phone down.

Before putting her head back down Anthea turned to look at Mycroft at her side, sleeping and holding her hand. Really she should move. Mycroft probably wouldn't like waking up this way, and it would be better if she just moved back to her side of the bed. Oh, but this was so nice. It was amazing to be so close to someone you cared about. Feeling at home with someone while you slept was the most content feeling. It was better than reading Wuthering Heights on a cold rainy day in a warm and toasty flat – and Anthea loved that.

Anthea lay her head back down on Mycroft's shoulder and shut her eyes.

Author's Note: So, dear friends, what did we think? Like I said, I'm happy with how it turned out. Time to thank our guest reviewers. Thanks to: Britta, Corrine, Guests x4, EggsBenedict, Lll, Rielle, Louise Pond, and Wink. Thanks to all my reviewers!

The Next Myc POV: I've narrowed your choices down to four.
1) The First Date.
2) His First Argument With Jamie.
3) The First Time She Called Him A Pet Name.
4) The First Time Ali Became A Habit.

Choose one :).