Author's Note: Thanks for all the lovely comments regarding last chapter. It's nice to see it go down quite well. Now, no doubt you've already read the chapter title… You've got no one to blame but yourselves, a number of you have been asking for something like this for a long time now. I'll say nothing else about it until the end. Have fun :P. 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 She Broke It Off

Anthea loved going to the real fancy events with Mycroft, she always had. She hated going to them when Charlotte Cunningham was going to be there, but she'd decided not to let that bother her. Why should she? This particular event was for a charity that Anthea knew deep down was important to Mycroft, and plus, Anthea had won. Anthea was the one going with Mycroft has his actual, honest to God date, and Charlotte would most likely be attended alone. Anthea was not going to let the presence of the stunning blonde affect her, there was no reason to let her affect her anymore.

So Anthea had bought a classy black evening gown that clung to her in all the right places, and tied her hair up similarly how Jamie had done it for the wedding. Understated make up, and understated jewellery, she made herself look like she was born attending these events. She had been attending them for years, so she was a natural by now, but she wanted to look fit to be truly on the arms of the British Government in his stunning tailored suit. Like this is where she belonged. It did help that she was far better at socialising than Mycroft was. She looked more natural than he did.

Much to Mycroft's relief this was not a dinner event which meant he would not be stuck there for hours on end. It was a cocktail party, with cocktails, cocktail food, and pieces of art up for sale for the sake of the charity. Of course you could simply make a donation, and a quick look around the room told Anthea that's exactly what Mycroft would do. She liked some of it, but it was far too avant-garde to look at home in one of Mycroft's abodes, and there was no way Anthea would let Mycroft buy one for her looking at the price tags. The thought of having something like that in her flat made her just want to sweat with nerves.

Being a charitable event, there were far more faces Anthea knew from the Club than from work. Many of the gentlemen that attended were there with their wives. Of course, there were plenty of other faces of rich and famous men and women around that didn't go to that place and probably didn't even know it existed. Anthea's Richard was there, the young man she'd shared an awkward dance with, and with a date it seemed. He noticed her from where she and Mycroft were standing near the entrance and waved from across the room. Anthea looked at his date and gave him a thumbs up. A red head who looked like she knew how to have fun but scrubbed up nicely. The boy turned bright red but grinned and nodded. She couldn't help but smirk at the boy's reaction.

But back to the task at hand. She and Mycroft were still standing near the entrance, after all, and they'd been there for at least five minutes. Time to get the ball rolling. Anthea leaned in to Mycroft, close to his ear.

"The usual plan?" She asked, linking arms.

"Drinks and then a lap around the room?" He hummed, looking over to her so that their noses almost touched. Anthea had to try her best not to burst into a cute grin just from the personal intimacy. Had she attended an event and been allowed to be this close to the man she loved before? Jamie's wedding didn't count, she meant a public event. Had he ever let anyone important see him so close to another man or woman before? Probably not.

"Yeah." Anthea bit her cheek but her voice was full of that joy that filled her whole being. "Then more drinks, followed by a quick split up to talk to people." Mycroft took a sharp breath, his eyes widening as he turn to look into the crowd.

"Talking to people more than once?" He breathed. "God help me, why do I put myself into these coy ponds?" Anthea sniffed, holding back her laughter the best she could, as she placed her forehead onto Mycroft's arm, hiding her face.

"You'll be okay, Myc." She laughed. "I'm your lifeguard, I can drag you out of the water." She made him chuckle, and that alone was her already throwing him a life preserver.

And so they did precisely as they said they would. Anthea and Mycroft first shared a scotch in privacy in order to prepare for the ordeal. They then did their usual lap to greet people and make sure Mycroft was seen attending the event as that was the most important thing to do. If he was seen, it didn't matter if he left early, people would remember that he was there. They had another scotch just the two of them, discussing the following game plan. Who was important to talk to and who could be avoided.

Mycroft would go talk to the people organising the event, and people from the club, and after that he'd make a donation. Anthea would go talk to some of the younger guest, followed by a quick greeting to faces she might have known from work, and then socialising with people she knew well from these previous events. She was to hobnob so Mycroft didn't have to.

Then the pair would talk to a few people together, maybe say hi to Charlotte, and leave.

That was the plan, anyway.

Upon the splitting up portion of the plan Anthea found herself amongst a group of men and women she'd been familiar with at these events. No one she knew well, but people she'd seen enough that she was now forced to make small talk. The topic now seemed to be the change of attitude surrounding her and Mycroft.

"My love," one of the older women began, holding her wine glass close to her chest. "Are we to believe that you are no long just Mycroft Holmes' date to these events but you two are an item now?" Anthea sniffed, blushing as she looked down to the ground and did the action of tucking her hair behind her ear even though no strand fell near her face.

"You believe correctly." She hummed, a cheeky smile on her face. The men seemed impressed while the women giggled girlishly for the most part. It seemed the laughter attracted an unwanted new member to the group. Much to Anthea's delight it seemed the loud noise brought that beautiful blonde over. Tall, slender Charlotte Cunningham in dark blue dress, her hair blonde hair cropped just passed her ears making her cheekbones look even better than they normally did. She said a smile with a few of the ladies and a nod to a few of the men, her and Anthea shared a very strange nod. Slow, and cold eyes, neither one meaning it.

"Well, don't stop there." One of the women far closer to Anthea's age stepped around her father to come closer to Anthea. "How did it happen?" Anthea bit her lip and held her hands open in an 'I don't know' gesture, because really, she didn't. The story was far too complicated, and no to mention Charlotte knew a completely different story that goes back far longer than the actual relationship.

"It's all a bit complicated." Anthea sighed. "We just…" A pause as she shook her head lightly, trying to think of the best way to put it. "Decided to stop playing these games with each other. Or he decided." She smirked. "It was really his choice." Anthea could feel the chill coming from Miss Cunningham.

"That's quite a shock. Mycroft Holmes making a move." The older gentleman looked at his wife. No doubt these two knew Mycroft since he was young. This was a drug addiction charity Mycroft had been giving to since they helped his brother, after all. He'd probably been the reason so many high social figures came to the charity's events in the first place.

"So your relationship is still steady, is it then?" Charlotte asked with fake niceness, twirling a lock of her short blonde hair around her elegant finger. Anthea watched it, with its perfect manicure, and she prepared herself for whatever Charlotte was about to do.

"Very well," Anthea nodded, smiling sardonically at the university lecturer. Anthea turned back to the group and added. "We recently went furniture shopping together, and you know that's a test of any relationship." She got a laugh. She knew how to rub shoulders with the best of them.

"Oh, I didn't expect that." Charlotte raised her eyebrows at one of the gentleman. Anthea hazard a look up to the woman but then looked away, not wanting to take the bait.

"So how was Morocco-" She'd tried to start another tangent with one of the couples but it seemed like Charlotte wasn't having that.

"Because a while ago I saw Mycroft at a university event on his own. Apparently you were at the bachelorette party for your, and I quote, 'shrill and mouthy' best friend, so Mycroft had to come alone. It really sounded like dating someone beneath him was taking a toll on him." She gave the group a sad pout but her eyes were glimmering. Anthea held back a sneer, eye twitching once, as she dug her fingernails into her palm. It wasn't so much the insult to her she was really worried about, it was what Mycroft had said about Jamie and how Charlotte was no doubt using it out of context against both her and Jamie. Anthea took a breath and counted to three before speaking.

"Someone beneath him?" Anthea hummed. "Those aren't Mycroft's words."

"No, that's not exactly what he said." Charlotte nodded to the group and not to Anthea directly. "But you could see the strain when he talked about the things he had to do. Television and the same books over and over again." Charlotte smirked at Anthea, looking her up and down. Anthea scratched at her neck, trying to keep her cool. "Mycroft told me the most shockingly amusing story. It seems he had to meet her ex-boyfriend. A ghastly figure. Quite large, died black greasy hair, messy, and with all the slang you could think of. It sounds like he thought he was in a band. And apparently he goes by Robbie. What self-respecting man goes by a childish nickname?" That. That made Anthea lose it a little. She looked to the ground and chuckled.

"That self-respecting man has given Mycroft far more patience and respect for being different than anyone in this room ever has. Did he care when Mycroft refused to shake hands? No. When Mycroft accidentally insulted him, he laughed. Aren't you a teacher, Charlotte? Are you supposed to judge people like that?" Charlotte didn't speak right away. She looked at Anthea, looked her up and down so slowly it was painful, sighed, and turned back to the group.

"See, she's far too prone to emotional outbursts for someone like him." She shook her head sadly. "I'll give it another month or two before he tires of it." Anthea felt the stab in her chest, but held it with dignity. She blinked and breathed through the pain. The rest of the group said nothing but looked at her or Anthea, wondering what would happen next. Anthea cocked her head, smiling at Charlotte.

"Oh, that's what this is about, Miss Cunningham." Anthea sung. "You want him single again because you're upset that he doesn't like you and has chosen me. It's not my fault he slept with you once and never saw you again when he was eighteen and you were… what? Twenty two? I was eight years old when that happened." Anthea pouted and shrugged innocently. "Maybe that's why he's so cold. Maybe you turned him off people in general." The group seemed to take a synchronised intake of breath. Charlotte swallowed nothing and seemed frozen from the neck down as her eyes pierced into Anthea's skull. "You're a beautiful woman, Charlotte." Anthea stepped forward. "Absolutely stunning. You could have any man you wanted." She meant every word she was saying. "How about you stop going after mine?"

No response.

The group was silent.

Three minutes passed.

No one moved, no one said anything.

With his stunning timing, Mycroft chose now to approach. He came close behind Anthea. Anthea tensed at his very presences behind her. Thing things Charlotte had said about Jamie, about Robbie, and even her. How could she know these things had Mycroft not said them? How could he tell her anything? Did he believe it to be in confidence? Because that was never going to be the case. Here she was, thanks to him choosing the exact wrong person to talk to, embarrassed and furious. Mycroft took one look around the group and clicked his tongue.

"It appears I'm in time to dissipate much of this tension." He widened his eyes as his voice sung, cutting through the small group's silence. People began slowly moving again. "Alison, sweetheart, I've made a donation and if you wouldn't mind I'd like very much to leave now." Anthea couldn't even turn around to look at him.

"Why would I want to do that, Mycroft?" Anthea hummed, and edge to her voice she couldn't get rid of. "Your friend here was just in the middle of telling the most delightful stories about me." She wanted to the edge to come out on the one. Anthea felt Mycroft grow cold behind her. He was capable of far more ice that Miss Cunningham ever would.

"Charlotte…" He muttered in a dangerous tone. It seems he's caught on. Charlotte wasn't looking at him, though. She was looking at Anthea.

"They were delightful, weren't they? Much like your little story about me." Anthea laughed a single laugh as she looked at Charlotte's face.

"What did you do, Charlotte?" Mycroft asked in a flat tone. She looked at him with a confused expression and shook her head like she had no idea what he was talking about.

"Okay, cutie…" Anthea spat. "If you want to go home, we'll go home." Anthea walked right past Mycroft, still unable to look at him, and walked right towards the door.

"If you've done something to seriously hurt her, Miss Cunningham," Anthea heard behind her. "You'll be lucky if you're not transferred out of the country, let alone the city." Huh. Too little too late there, Myc. Charlotte might have hurt her, but Mycroft had been the weapon.

Anthea could hear Mycroft's footstep behind her as she made it outside, but she wasn't going to stop. The last thing she wanted right now was to look into his cold eyes. She just wanted to go home and vent her anger, have a hot shower, and lay in bed. She walked right passed the parking lot and onto the street to hail down a taxi.

"Anthea." Mycroft huffed as he came up to her. "What are you doing? I'm about to call Walter-"

"I'm not getting in a car with you." Anthea scoffed harshly, cutting Mycroft off.

"Oh, Charlotte could not have upset you this badly. Don't be dramatic, dear." His long slender hand touched hers, and as soon as she felt to warm touch Anthea yanked it close to her body.

"Please, do not touch me right now." She laughed bitterly. Mycroft's expression steel as his analysis mask was placed on. His cool eyes studied Anthea.

"Anthea, you're being ridiculous."

"Ridiculous? Wow, that's not a word Charlotte said you use to describe me and my friends." Mycroft closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Oh…" He moaned. "So what did I say according to the articulate Miss Cunningham?"

"Let's see," Anthea folded her arms across her chest, and jutted out her hip. "I'm tedious and beneath you. I'm far too prone to emotional outburst, and we can add ridiculous now. Robbie, who was nothing but lovely to you, is ghastly. And Jamie! Jamie is shrill and mouthy! That's a direct quote, too." Mycroft silently sighed as he moved his hand from his nose to run through his neat hair.

"I see what has happened." He sounded almost relieved. The nerve. Anthea stepped closer into Mycroft's face, point her index finger right at him.

"Say whatever you want to your mother and your brother, even James and people at work. The next time to insult my best friend in the world to someone who doesn't know when you're being dramatic, and I won't be so understanding." Mycroft took a look at the finger in his face. He used his own hand over Anthea's to close her hand, and lowered it. Anthea snatched it back.

"Alice, Charlotte has taken a private conversation and twisted it to her advantage." He was talking to her slowly like she was an idiot. Anthea turned her back on him, facing the road.

"I don't care, Mycroft."

"She has made the conversation sound far worse than it was." Really? Anthea turned back around.

"Did you use the word ghastly?"

"Yes."

"And shrill?"

"Yes."

"What about tedious?"

"Yes." That was enough. Anthea turned around once again. "But not about you, Alice. Never about you." She whipped around.

"But about my books and music? And my friends? That means it's about me. All that is me." Mycroft rolled his eyes right in her face.

"Will you stop being pathetically stubborn for two seconds in your entire life and listen to me?" Hmm. Pathetic was one to add to the list. Yet she did, Anthea folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head. She waited. Mycroft straightened his posture, and pulled on his cufflinks.

"Charlotte asked where you were and I explained you were stuck at another wedding related event. We began talking, as acquaintances do, and many things came up. I assure you I said plenty of nice things about you and Robert." Anthea felt her jaw clench. She tapped her heel, waiting for more. It didn't come.

"Did you say anything nice about Jamie?"

The only noise was traffic.

"Yeah, didn't think so." Mycroft clicked his tongue. "Hey," Anthea pointed her finger at him. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to think negative things about me right now after I had to hear a list of them from your one night stand. And this isn't just about telling Charlotte negative things, this is about telling Charlotte anything about me." Mycroft scoffed and looked away.

"Please, Alice. You talk to people about me all the time. I have a very small list of people I talk to." He sounded like he was talking down to her again.

"Yeah, but none of my people would ever use it against you." Anthea felt her eyes getting heavy as she stepped towards Mycroft. "Do you know how much Jamie talked you up to Nicole at the wedding? She said, and this is a direct quote, "See, I told you Alice's boyfriend is better than yours". The only bad thing she said about you was that you two tend to fight." Anthea rubbed at her eyes. "Robbie goes back home and tells his girlfriend she should come down next time so we can all have dinner somewhere nice. James has adored you longer than I've known you. You go around calling us tedious, ghastly, shrill, and probably stupid." She pulled her hands away to find her eyeshadow streaked across the back of her hand. She didn't care. She looked up to the sky and shook her head. "I don't get it. Every time I see a kindness in you, every time I sense some warmth you just do something cold again."

A pause.

Mycroft took a deep breath. He rubbed his forehead as he looked at the ground. He took another deep breath as he looked down the road. He thought of touching Anthea on the arm but changed his mind.

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You didn't mean for me to find out." He lowered his head to be at eye level with Anthea and force her to look into his eyes.

"I'll apologise for a lot that has happened here, but I will not apologise for being cold. You knew this all along." Anthea sniffed and blinked her tears away. She slowly nodded. She nodded a few times before she could talk.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I thought we were capable of doing this." She watched as Mycroft's facial expression changed. His brow slowly furrowed and his mouth pulled down in concern. "Because I can't keep trying this hard and you clearly can't put in enough effort." She stepped away. "I thought I could see you trying, but this just proves that you weren't."

"Alice?" Mycroft stood right where he was, not moving.

"I can't do this anymore, Mycroft. Not right now. I can't be the only caring person in a relationship."

Silence.

"I'll see you Monday at work, sir."

Anthea managed to hail down a cab. She took it back to her flat where she then proceeded to throw an ornament across the room, breaking it, take a hot shower, and go to bed. She didn't get out of bed until dinner time the next day.

All Anthea wanted to do on Monday was play the role of the good personal assistant. She didn't want to talk about anything personal, and she really didn't want to fight. She wanted to get work done, and keep life going. For the most part Mycroft let her play that role without interruption. He let her come in with a tea in the morning with nothing more than a good morning, they acted cordial and attended meetings, and communicated what work needed to be done. It was good. It was what Anthea needed. She didn't want to talk about her hurt feelings, or what Mycroft might have done or not done. She didn't want apologies, she didn't want to talk about miscommunication. She wanted to get her mind off of everything and just work. She didn't even want to talk to Jamie about anything, the last thing she wanted to do was to get into all that again.

So she was extremely upset when Mycroft came out to her desk without any work related reason to do so. He stood a metre away from her desk, arms behind his back, watching her work. Anthea stretched out her fingers and swallowed her breath as she tried to prepare for this. She wasn't ready. She felt emotionless and a little like a shell. She couldn't talk about this now, she just wanted to work.

"Can I help you, sir?" She didn't take her eyes off her computer screen as she continued to type, but she could feel those steel eyes on her. She could think of which one of his multiple masks he'd be wearing. Probably an apologetic one that rang false in all the wrong places. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him look down at his shoes in hesitation.

"Alice…" He began, his tone soft. Anthea physically winced. It hurt to hear her real name in that melodic voice. It felt so hollow in her chest where her heart usually was. She closed her eyes and stopped typing.

"Mr. Holmes," She whispered. "I can't even look at you right now. I know you can read people. It's not the time, okay?"

A beat.

Anthea opened her eyes to find Mycroft still where he was. She felt a cold run down her spine. She just wanted to work. She didn't want to forgive him or hate him, she wanted to be left alone.

"If you're taking the words of a bitter woman over mine, Anthea," Mycroft began. "Then you're-"

"I'm what?" Anthea cut Mycroft off, feeling the knife in her chest again. She met his eyes. She wasn't going to let him condescend her. "Stupid? Young? Nothing but a pretty object? Charlotte and Sherlock have both made these things obvious recently, you might as well." Anthea could tell but the very subtle movement of Mycroft's head and jaw that he was trying not to roll his eyes or show any sign of annoyance at Anthea's words. Too bad she was one of the few people who could see through those masks of his. When he spoke it was controlled and quiet.

"Sherlock calls everyone an idiot."

"Charlotte doesn't." Anthea folded her hands together on her desk, shrugging a shoulder. "She educates people, and it's pretty much a rule that they don't call people stupid." Mycroft clenched his fist and closed his eyes.

"This is preposterous." He breathed through his teeth. "You're not allowing me to get anywhere."

"Then please allow me to get back to work, sir." Anthea pleaded. Something flashed in those blue eyes.

"You want to know what I find tedious, Miss James?" He took a step forward as he hissed. "It's not you, it's moments like these. Its all those times where you're absolutely certain you know what is correct. If you were correct all the time, my dear, you'd have a lot less problems." Anthea blinked.

"Problems?" She asked. "Like what?" Mycroft opened his mouth but quickly shut it as his eyes narrowed on Anthea. He had refused to take the bait.

"You're being irrational and pathetic." His tone was poisonous. Anthea sniffed a laugh.

"Excellent, more words for my list." She cocked her head to the side. "Want to hear mine for you?" A fake smile formed on her lips. "Cold, unfeeling, stubborn, boring," She stopped to think some more. "Obsessive about everything. Your brother's life, your work, going to the club, your weight issues. We get it, you were a fat kid and your brother teased you about it, you teased him too. Oh, mean, too. And oblivious to other people." Anthea knew she'd regret those words later, she knew she would. She'd watched Mycroft struggle with his weight, and at an absolute loss over his brother and she'd tried to help him with both those things. She'd hate herself for saying what she said, but right now, the look in his eyes when she'd said them. It helped relief the pain from the wounds in her own chest. It made her feel better.

Anthea watched as Mycroft tilted his head and quirked his eyebrows, letting the words sink in. She watched him blink, and try to let them wash passed him. She watched as he swallowed when he realised they weren't going to wash away, and instead let them sink it. Then it returned. The cold eyes and the cold, fake, dangerous smile that sent off all your warning signals.

"We're keeping track, are we?" He practically hissed. "For yourself please don't forget needy, time wasting, and inexcusably stubborn." Anthea quirked an eyebrow and smirked. Mycroft snarled. "Fine. Go back to work. Go back to being just my personal assistant." He stepped forward once more, placing his palms on Anthea's desk. "Do you think I care that you broke this messy personal relationship up? It's no skin off my nose, my dear. I've spent my entire adult life alone and I was perfectly happy. I was exactly where I needed to be, and not even my own mother could get hold of me should I wish it so. It was perfect until you showed up and forced yourself into every aspect of my life like a rash that spreads. You think I need you? I don't need anyone." It had been a long time since Anthea had seen this Mycroft Holmes. She forgot what the Ice Man looked like. No kindness in those eyes, no gentleness in that face. Nothing but ice. She smiled up at him.

"I know, and I'm happy for you, sir." She spoke politely. Mycroft stood back upright and chuckled.

"Happy for me, or happy for yourself?" He hummed, sarcastically pouting. "If you're so quick to end such an important relationship with someone you supposedly love then perhaps you never truly did love me. Perhaps you're not so different from me and my brother as you thought." The pout turned into a smile. "The concept of love is just as foreign for you as it is for me." Anthea did her best to keep face. She didn't want him to see how badly he twisted the knife. She didn't want Mycroft to have the satisfaction of seeing her face contort with emotional pain again. So she put on the neutral mask Mycroft had trained her to do, and nodded a few times.

"Maybe you're right." She kept her voice as level as possible, lest it crack or shake in anyway giving her away. "Maybe I didn't love you." She pursed her lips and nodded once more. "That should make being just your personal assistant again a piece of cake. Isn't that great, sir?" Anthea perked up, going back to her typing. She watched in the corner of her eye as Mycroft's jaw clenched and unclenched.

"Just peachy."

As he disappeared into his inner sanctum Anthea let her head fall onto her desk, resting against the wood.

Author's Note: Okay, you can blame me a little because I've been dying to use Charlotte again, and you can blame ovejalucifer a little because she's been very helpful in refining this idea and coming up with it with me. But you're all to blame, too :P. Don't kill me! You won't get a resolution if you kill me! Please let me know what you think because I've been dying to write this chapter since the mid-nineties and I wrote it on Monday. Time to thank the guest reviewers! Thanks to; Britta, Nana, Anna, Louise Pond, booksarefriends, and ovejalucifer. Thank you to all my wonderful readers and reviewers. Don't kill me but please let me know what you thought of this chapter.