Author's Note: How did I know last chapter was going to go down well? Call it a feeling ;). But seriously, thanks guys. Your feedback is wonderful and helpful. Sorry this chapter is a few hours later, I was being social for once, haha. I'm not entirely sure where this chapter came from. It evolved from another idea entirely after one of my confidants made a suggestion. I like where it went and I hope you all have fun with it, too. Read, review, and please 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 Sherlock Called Her For Help

Anthea cringed as the ringing of her phone blasted through her ears. She blindly reached over to her bedside table to snatch it up as quickly as possible just to stop that blasted noise before it gave her a head ache. A quick glance at the screen gave her pause.

Oh.

Well, this has never happened before.

She pressed answer and brought the phone to her ear, stretching her neck as she did so.

"Hello?" She sounded groggy, and so she should at two in the morning.

"You didn't answer my text." No hello, no question as to whether she'd been woken up. Straight to a selfish demand. How like Sherlock Holmes this was.

"Mmm, what text?" Anthea mumbled, eyes shut, as she rubbed her face.

"The one I sent you." Sherlock snapped on the other side of the line. If Anthea's eyes were open she'd have rolled them.

"I was asleep. What did it say?"

"Are you alone?" Anthea's face shifted from contorted out of a rude awakening to a flat expression. She opened her eyes and quirked an eyebrow.

"No. No, Sherlock." Anthea answered flatly. "On Wednesdays we get together with a whole bunch of other influential people and their partners, and have a key party. I am currently in bed with the head of the CIA." Anthea heard a snort from the other end of the line.

"If only my brother were so interesting."

"Sherlock." Anthea sighed. "What do you want?" She could hear how much she sounded like Mycroft. It felt a little bit like an out of body experience.

"I seem to have found myself locked in a coatroom." Anthea blinked. She ran her hand through her hair as she winced once more.

"What?" She spat.

"I was working on a case, and-"

"Why are you calling me?" Anthea cut the younger Holmes off as she shook her head. She didn't really care what had happened, just why she was the one being disturbed over it.

"John wouldn't approve of my method, and Mycroft will take any chance to lecture me. I'd rather avoid having either of them speak to me like a two-year-old when I have work to do. If I asked for Lestrade or Molly's help they'd tell one or both of them instantly. Not to mention Donovan would have a field day with this."

"Why are you calling me?" Anthea repeated.

"Isn't it obvious?" Anthea groaned. Stupid Holmes' with their stupid behaviour.

"It's two in the morning. I've had a few glasses of wine with friends. Do you know how quickly my brain is working right now, Sherlock?"

"Fine." The detective would know doubt be rolling those sky blue eyes right now. "I need you to come get me without telling anyone I associate with." Anthea sat up in her bed and rubbed her face again in an attempt to wake up further.

"Alright, where are you?"

"The Diogenes Club."

Okay. Maybe Anthea did want to know what had happened.

"'Thea? Beautiful, I was sleeping."

"James, meet me at the Diogenes Club. Bring a gun."

"Will I need a gun?"

"No, but it'll make us look like were working when they review the security footage."

"…."

"I… Yeah, fine. Do I get paid?"

"I can buy you lunch for a week."

"Okay. Deal. See you."

"What are we here for?" James covered his mouth with his hand as he yawned. The other lazily held an unloaded pistol by his side He'd changed his shirt apparently, but was still wearing pyjama pants and bed socks in his shoes. Anthea had thrown on a loose fitting dress but had left her hair as it was. Anthea was fishing her key card out of her wallet.

"Sherlock got himself locked in here." Anthea mumbled. "Apparently." James sniffed some form of reaction. Anthea slot the key card through and the door clicked open. "Do me a favour," She said as she placed her hand on the handle. "Aim you gun and look around like you're looking for an intruder. Wander around for a bit, and then follow me behind the front desk." With another yawn and a quiet nod from James, Anthea opened the door and allowed James to charge in.

Its funny how quickly he could switch into agent mode – or at least act like he was in agent mode. A second ago he was a sleepy puppy who needed to rest after playing all day, now he was an attack dog searching for non-existent prey. Anthea would take a moment to appreciate it if she wasn't so tired.

She lazily glanced up at a security camera and inwardly sighed. She checked all the entrances and exits for signs of entry. She found none, and given that the door was locked, Sherlock had probably been in here before the staff locked it up. What was wrong with that man? Worse than the rest of his family, anyway?

Anthea met James at the door behind the front desk. Behind that door was the coatroom and therefore Sherlock Holmes. As James came to stand by her he was still in action pose but he looked as tired as he felt.

"So why are we doing this and not any of his friends? Or Holmes?" He asked, sounding on the verge of sleep. Anthea shrugged.

"He called me." She sighed as she began picking the lock. "Apparently Mummy and Daddy can't know."

"And by Mummy and Daddy you mean Holmes and Dr. Watson?" Anthea cracked a smile and glanced up at James. She gave him a single nod and he laughed to himself. As she heard the lock click Anthea stood up and pulled open the door.

Sherlock was sitting on the floor of the small room, holding a briefcase to his chest. His bright blue eyes landed on Anthea, flickered to James, and back to Anthea.

"Ah." He hummed, jumping to his feet. "Took you long enough." James and Anthea exchanged a look.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock." Anthea hissed sarcastically. "We had to get changed."

"It's okay." She hadn't been serious. "At least we can go now." Sherlock began to walk forward when James held his hand out at the height of Sherlock's chest.

"Whoa there, buddy." James stopped him. Sherlock looked at the agent like he was mad. "You're not going to take that briefcase, are you?" Sherlock's frown deepened.

"Of course I am." He answered. Anthea clicked her tongue.

"No you're not. Listen to the tall strong man with a gun." She sighed again. Sherlock sent her daggers through a look.

"I need it for a case." He was adamant, she could tell. One look at his grasp on it told her that. She could argue with the detective, absolutely. She could stand here with James all night and argue. Better yet, she could call Lestrade or one of the managers of the club. But Anthea wanted to go back to bed, and she knew the quickest way to do so. Anthea let out a heavy breath and turned away from Sherlock to look at James.

"James, take it from him and act like you're confiscating evidence. We'll give it back to him outside." James lowered his hand.

"But, A-"

"A, is it?" Sherlock hummed, tilting his head as he cut off James. "So if he calls you A then you must use multiple A names. That must mean you have some sort of irrational connection, a familiarity, with that letter." Anthea rubbed her face with her hands. She could feel the frustration getting to her in a way it wouldn't have if she'd gotten more sleep. She wasn't in the mood to play this game with Sherlock, and she didn't have the time to reason with James.

"James, if you want to get home take the stupid case or so help me, I'll tell Jamie you don't like the colour of your bathroom. Sherlock, if you want to play that game right now I can call your brother and he can play it too." Both men held their eyes to the brunette. James walked back to the counter to grab a tissue. With tissue in it, James held his open palm to Sherlock, indicating that he'd take the case. Sherlock looked at the hand in front of him.

"She's lying." Sherlock spoke to James. "You can tell she went for the first ideas that came to mind by the very subtle pause and change in her inflection. She also loves her secrets."

"Yeah, I don't care." James waited, hand outstretched. "I just want to get to bed." Sherlock handed over the case and James automatically switched into agent mode. Holding a case without leaving a print on it, that was his training, alright. Anthea gestured to the front door with a swish of her arm to point at it.

"Your turn." She said. "Try to look embarrassed for the sake of the cameras."

"Why would I do that? It would be out of character."

Why did Anthea put up with these people?

Anthea parked her old car right outside of 221 Baker Street. She pulled up the hand break, undid her seatbelt, and shifted in her chair to look at Sherlock. She looked the detective over carefully in the dim light of the car and street lamps. As far as she could tell he looked sober. He seemed focused but not to an extreme amount, and he was talking the same way he always did. Putting that worry away, Anthea came to the next. She licked her as she prepared to talk.

"Why are you stealing the belongings of someone from Mycroft's club?" She asked, sounding like a tired mother.

"I already told you it was for a case." Sherlock stared out the front window, looking up at the nearest streetlight as if something was different about it.

"And you expect me to believe you?"

"Yes." Bright blue eyes landed on her face. "Because it's true." Anthea bit her the inside of her cheek as she questioned the validity of Sherlock's statement. He was a little snappy, and pushing him would only make him regret calling her. He didn't want a John or a Mycroft right now but he probably needed one.

"Okay, you don't want to tell me details, that's fine." She shrugged it off, rubbing her bare arms to shake off some of the cool air. "You have to tell me if this will effect Mycroft in anyway."

"It shouldn't." Sherlock responded straight away. "I don't believe anyone remotely close to him is involved."

"Because we had issue with a leak before, and-"

"I know." He cut her off, but it was calm and with a light nod. "I looked into it myself." Anthea titled her head and tried not to let her lips pull into the smile it wanted to. There was something comforting in Sherlock's words there. Something very nice indeed. "That isn't at all related." Anthea shut her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Okay." She spoke as she exhaled. "That's all I wanted to know."

"I don't see why you should care." Sherlock continued. "I'd think someone like you would like some form of revenge after he set your relationship back many steps." Anthea's eyes shot open and she stared at Sherlock in bewilderment. The detective let out a single laugh as one side of his mouth pulled into a smirk. "It was your sarcasm on the phone when I asked if you were alone." He explained without prompting. "It was too defensive and too elaborate. You could have simply stated you were home alone, instead you responded as if it should be obvious. Why? I've seen the spare bedroom downstairs, and I've seen your clothes in his laundry. You were defensive about being alone because you felt as if you shouldn't be alone. Therefore, Mycroft did something wrong."

A beat.

A car alarm was going off somewhere.

"It wasn't his fault." Anthea spoke softly. Sherlock rolled his eyes and turned to look out the front window again. "I screwed up, too."

"Yes but you're normal, you're expected to screw up." Sherlock mumbled, looking through the windows, probably locating where the alarm was coming from. "I warned him, and yet he still doesn't behave."

"Behave?" Anthea laughed. "Sherlock, he's allowed to be himself."

"Not if he doesn't want to be alone." Anthea opened her mouth to speak and closed it again. She bit her lip and gave herself a moment to process.

"Sherlock," The genius turned to face her once more. "He's not going to be alone." Anthea through him a lopsided grin. "I'll always be his friend, okay? I'll be his John and Mary rolled into one no matter what happens." She watched as Sherlock's eyes dropped down slightly as he fell into thought. His brain ticked away behind those bright orb the same way Mycroft's did. The same deep look of concentration as they tried to process something and pull up related file before ultimately filing it away too. "Now go home so I can sleep, yeah?" Sherlock took off his seatbelt and pushed Anthea's door open. He got one leg out the door before he stopped and turned to Anthea.

"Don't tell Mycroft about tonight." He reiterated. Anthea crinkled up her nose and nodded.

"I won't." She answered.

A taxi drove past.

"You're going to tell him tomorrow, aren't you?" He wasn't asking, it sounded far more like a statement. Anthea chuckled under her breath.

"Are you going to tease him about the break up?" Anthea cocked her head to the side. Sherlock pursed his lips.

"If you leave out the Diogenes Club, then I won't tell him I talked to you about it."

"Deal."

"Good morning, dear." Mycroft looked up from his table and gave Anthea a soft smile as she walked into his office with a cup of tea. She brought some short bread biscuits with her this morning.

"Morning, sir." She sung as she placed the two items down carefully in the usual spot. She came around to Mycroft's side of the desk and kissed him on the cheek. He pulled a little bit of a face, but the fact that he actually let her spoke volumes to Anthea about his actual opinion on it. "You'll never guess what I had to do last night." Anthea grinned. Mycroft had turned back to his computer and was already responding to an email.

"The Club has already called me." He hummed in his neutral tone. Anthea groaned. "I went along with whatever cover you and James had tried to create." Anthea sat on the edge of Mycroft's desk and folded her arms across her chest.

"Well, don't tell Sherlock that we got him from the club. I promised I wouldn't mention that bit." Mycroft let a single laugh escape his mouth as he pressed send on the email. He swivelled the chair to face Anthea.

"Would you care to explain?" He asked. Anthea shrugged.

"It was related to a case apparently. It doesn't in anyway involve you and it shouldn't hurt us but I'll keep an eye on it anyway." Mycroft nodded in agreement. "And he didn't want to get you or John involved because he didn't want a lecture." Mycroft pursed his lips.

"I'm I to understand that I am not to bring this up with him at all?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. Anthea smiled down at the older Holmes.

"No…" She said. "Just give it a few days. Let the sting wash away." Mycroft's face changed into an unusual expression. It looked somewhere between offended and amused.

"Whose side are you on, anyway?" He asked in a matching tone. Anthea leaned in closer.

"Your mother's." She whispered. "I want you both to play nice. I know how much little baby brother means to you."

"If you weren't so appealing to the eye I'd fire you right now." Mycroft smirked. Anthea narrowed her eyes and crinkled her nose.

"No you wouldn't." She laughed.

"You're right. I'm far too lazy to search for another competent assistant." Anthea scoffed in pretend offence. She stood up and smoothed down her skirt. She picked up the plate of shortbread.

"Just for that, I'm taking this back." She sung as she began walking away.

"Oh no." Mycroft teased. "Whatever shall I do? I couldn't possibly retrieve some more from the cupboard."

"Now who thinks they're funny?"

Author's Note: There it is. I hope you enjoyed it. Do let me know what you thought. Thanks to our guest reviewers last chapter; Maia, Wink, MinaCarlyle, Guests x2, Anna, and catsdrwholock. But thanks to all my wonderful reviewers. It's really interesting to me, right. We have people who review every chapter, people who do every second or so chapter, and people who do on chapters they really like or when they notice one of my silly little spelling or grammatical errors. I love all of you :).