Author's Note: Sorry this chapter is late. Not only is it due to assignments like I said, but… without getting into details, it's been a hard week for my family. Don't worry about me, just enjoy the fic. This chapter came out of my need to write something positive so I hope its okay. It's also been asked for by many people for quite some time now. Have fun with it please! And be aware that next chapter has a chance of being a day late, too. 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 With The Entire Holmes Family

Driving to the Holmes family residence with Sherlock in the backseat was a trial and a half to say the least. The constant poking and teasing between brothers, the treating each other like idiots. After ten minutes Anthea was already completely done with it and was considering jumping out of the car to save her sanity. Luckily the girl had brought headphones and drowned the two bickering brothers out with music as she glanced out the window at the beautiful scenery.

It was going to be worth it, thought. The weekend would be worth all the nagging and fighting in the car, and the conversations that went over her head because they tried to outsmart each other. It would be worth the headache this drive would give her and Mycroft, and it would be worth Sherlock's annoyance. Because every weekend with the Violet and Siger Holmes was always an absolute delight for Anthea, and she always felt at home in that cosy little place.

Not to mention this was the first time Sherlock had come along on the same weekend as Anthea. This was her chance to see moody teenaged Mycroft with bratty child Sherlock. This was her chance to see the true family dynamics and she was going to eat it all up. Maybe Anthea could learn a thing or two about defusing a fight between brothers by watching how their mum dealt with it. After all, Violet Holmes was a wonderful and kind person, but also the only person in the world her two sons would listen to in a heartbeat.

The weekend held all sorts of promise for Anthea, even if the boys were already complaining about it.

As always happens when they turn up at the house, the two brothers were immediately pulled into embraces by their beloved Mummy. Of course neither looked thrilled about it – Sherlock looked down right annoyed – but both let her just the same. Their father avoided the physical contact but looked pleased to see them none the less.

"And my darling Anthea." Mrs. Holmes greeted Anthea after annoying her sons. It seems she got the memo that Sherlock didn't know her name yet. She gave Anthea a light squeeze and a peck on the cheek.

"How come she gets off easy?" Anthea heard Sherlock mutter to Mycroft.

"Because Mummy knows she's not obligated by blood to accept it." If Violet heard her sons she chose to ignore it. Choosing your battles did seem important with the two of them.

"I am so excited to have my whole family under the same roof again." Violet clasped her hands together as her eyes gazed lovingly at the three visitors still standing outside the door. Sherlock began to walk passed the door.

"Plus one." Sherlock added as he pushed passed his mother on his way in.

"Oh hush, you." Violet waved her hand fiercely in the direction Sherlock was heading. "Anthea is your brother's girlfriend. That is very much a part of the family." Anthea saw Mycroft take a deep breath beside her. She gave him an apologetic smile and though he dismissed her with a small shake of his head, he did seem less… stressed.

With Violet stepping out of the way Mycroft and Anthea past the threshold with their bags and entered the house. Sherlock was now halfway up the stairs.

"Which reminds me," Violet continued. "Anthea dear, with Sherlock here I'm afraid you can't stay in his room this time." The footstep going up the stairs halted. Mycroft pulled a face. Funny, with any other family, this would be completely normal. With Sherlock and Mycroft… knowing the next sentence to fall out of Violet's mouth made Anthea begin to feel warm and blush. "I'm sure you won't be at all uncomfortable sharing Mycroft's bed, will you?" Mycroft pinched the bridge of his nose and glanced down to the floor. Sherlock turned around on the stairs, an evil grin to rival Moriarty's on his face. Anthea's heart felt like it was doing weird gymnastics in her chest.

"Y-yeah." Anthea stuttered, waving a hand. "It's no problem." She laughed. She heard Sherlock chuckle.

"This does explain why you always have a whiff of Chanel on you, brother dear." Sherlock hummed happily from the stairs.

"Sherlock…" Mycroft warned wearily. Anthea heard Siger sigh from where he was standing still in the doorframe.

"Does the perfect machine, the man without a heart, actually enjoy some form of physical affection? Because you've been scowling at hugs since I was born."

"Sherlock," Violet clicked. "Leave him alone."

"It seems not even you are able to resist the right pheromones."

"Sherlock, don't tease your brother about this." Siger sighed from the steps. Sherlock's smirk dropped, and Mycroft turned around to listen. "I know how hard it is for you two to get close to people, so please don't ruin this for your brother." Siger looked slightly sad as he tilted his head. "You've gained friends that mean the world to you."

"And he's teased me about that."

"So be the bigger person."

A pause.

Sherlock turned around bitterly and continued up the stairs. Mycroft smoothed his hair back and took another deep breath. Of course the comment about being a bigger person would work – it always came back to competition. Violet folded her arms across her chest as she smirked at her husband.

"Siger…" She sung. "I love it when you take control."

"Oh God in heaven." Mycroft spat as he too began up the stairs. Anthea giggled as she followed.

"It doesn't happen very often, dear." Anthea heard Siger's voice from now inside the door.

"I know. That's why it's so attractive."

Friday night was going as expected for a Friday night at the Holmes residence. Good food, board games, cups of tea, and arguments. Arguments over the games. Specifically that they seemed to be playing ones Mycroft and Mummy were good at and not Sherlock's favourites.

Mycroft suggested that if Clue didn't turn into a nightmare, or if Sherlock didn't try to use inductive reasoning to guess everyone's cards in both Uno and Poker, then perhaps they could play something he liked. Obviously this didn't go down well with Sherlock. Anthea and Siger would share a look while Violet quickly nipped the fight in the bud. If it continued too long, then Anthea would surely find out why Pictionary was banned in the house.

They'd moved from the kitchen table to crowding around the coffee table in the living room after dinner. A more cosy environment to perhaps stimulate and friendlier atmosphere – that was no doubt the thinking of the Holmes parents. It didn't seem to work. While Violet and Mycroft were in the kitchen preparing another round of tea and biscuits, Siger, Anthea and Sherlock sat in the living room. In other words, Siger and Anthea were putting up with sulky Sherlock.

"It's the curse of the younger sibling, Sherlock." Siger offered his son a warm and sympathetic smile. "Every little brother or sister has to deal with this." Anthea didn't know this first had, but she'd seen it. She'd seen it with Jamie's brother, and she'd heard James complain about it during a poker game with other agency workers. Apparently James' sisters used to team up against him.

Oooohh.

"He needs to be taken down a peg." Sherlock moaned to his father. "He's not the best at everything." Siger chuckled.

"Of course, he isn't Sherl."

"I just had a thought…." Anthea sucked on her bottom lip as she turned to Sherlock with her brow furrowed. Sherlock raised his eyebrows.

"And by the looks of it, it pained you greatly to do so." She ignored him.

"Scrabble's next, yeah?" She cocked her head to the side. "Would you be okay with your mother winning?" At first Sherlock frowned, but as recognition dawned on him the consulting detective's posture straightened and his sky blue eyes filled with life.

"You mean sabotage Mycroft at the expense of our own scores…" He looked positively devilish.

"Like suicide bombers." She scrunched up her nose.

"Anthea." Siger chided, but with humour in his voice. "Betraying your love. How dare you." Anthea smiled at the elder man.

"Not betrayal." She bit her lip. "Making a rapport with his family."

"We could box him in." Sherlock ignored the little distraction and continued on the original topic. "Any opportunity to create a decent score you and I can put a small pathetic word in that shuts down the board. It'll be like playing with small children."

"If you're going to do that." Siger spoke in a hushed tone. "You'll have to make sure both your turns are just before Mycroft's." Anthea stared at Siger with a mixture of amusement and utter shock. Sherlock didn't seem at all shocked as he nodded at his father.

"Excellent point." He chirped as he jumped from his position across the table from Anthea and came to sit next to her. Apparently some of the cheekiness and teasing came from Siger. It was a Holmes trait.

The moment Mycroft stepped back into the room Anthea knew he suspected them. He took one look at Sherlock's spot and you could just see his brain ticking behind the deep blue eyes. As Violet entered carrying a tray of biscuits she stopped by Mycroft's side and examined what was off about the room. As it became apparent to her she chuckled and elbowed her oldest son.

"Dear Mycie, this does not bode well for you." She hummed as she walked past him. Mycroft's lip twitched upwards in a tiny snarl as he accepted that he could not change the situation. By his body language Anthea just knew he was preparing himself for an uphill battle.

1st: Mummy
2nd: Father
3rd: Mycroft
4th: Sherlock
5th: Anthea

"Deplorable." Mycroft scoffed, refusing to even look at the score sheet. He sat in an armchair, legs folded and arms crossed. "Underhanded and absolutely deplorable."

"I learnt from the best." Anthea bit her lip playfully as she crinkled her nose.

"As did I." Sherlock spoke before bringing his now lukewarm cup of tea up to his lips and taking a sip.

"No, no." Mycroft leaned forward. "I expect this behaviour from you," he lazily pointed his finger in the direction of his little brother. "But her?" He pulled a face.

"I know." Sherlock agreed, eyes widening slightly. "You trained her too well, brother." Anthea rolled her eyes as Sherlock turned to look her down. "She's willing to play dirty. She's better than John. I might keep her." Anthea scoffed.

"I'm not a dog." She looked Sherlock up and down.

"She's far more intelligent than Redbeard ever was." Mycroft hummed. Anthea gave him a cold stare.

"Yeah, thanks Myc."

"Mycie dear, they were just having a bit of fun." Violet clucked from her spot on the couch next to her husband. Siger had his hand on her knee.

"Oh, so the winner of the game approves of the underhanded tactics?" He gave his mother that sarcastic smile. The woman in question pursed her lips as she tried not to smirk.

"Of course I don't approve, but I'm not displeased with the outcome." Her and her husband turned to smile at each other.

"Neither am I." Siger added. "I haven't come second in a long time." Mycroft scowled once more and waved a hand in his parents' direction, turning his head to look away from the whole group.

Anthea watched Mycroft for a moment, drowning out any other stimulus. She watched him sitting there slightly perturbed, pouting, arms crossed. His foot tapping impatiently as he waited for an apology that would never come. He was a petulant child and it was adorable. Anthea broke out in a grin and had no doubt she was blushing. She turned to look at Violet.

"He's so cute when he's pouting." She breathed, slightly embarrassed. Sherlock snorted and jumped up from his position on the floor.

"That's my que to leave." He muttered quietly and skulked out of the room.

"Oh, I know!" Violet leaned forward, beaming. She was the ever proud parent. "There was this one time when he was six-"

"Alright!" Mycroft interrupted. He placed his hands on the arm rests and pulled himself out of the armchair. He stretched out his back before speaking again. "Anthea, dear, that would be our que to retire for the evening." Anthea blinked up at Mycroft.

"I want to hear this story." She answered. Mycroft closed his eyes and shook his head.

"No you don't." He insisted. Violet clicked her tongue and awed.

"But it's such a cute story." She argued. Anthea tried to hide an escaped laugh as a cough as she turned back to Violet eagerly.

"No. It's not." Mycroft spoke through gritted teeth.

"All kids are forced to wear stupid outfits at least once." Siger tried to console his son. Anthea choked on thin air.

"What?" She laughed. "Now I really need to hear this story."

"Okay!" Violet clasped her hands together. "It was when we went to visit Siger's parents over Christmas. She bought all the grandkids outfits to wear on Christmas." Mycroft shook his head to no one but himself. He turned to start walking away.

"I hate everyone here." He breathed, sounding defeated. Anthea turned to watched him walk away with a warm heart.

"We love you too." She called out after him. Naturally he didn't even respond.

Author's Note: So, was it alright? Did you enjoy it? Sorry about the length but I didn't want to stretch it when I'm not at my best anyway. It would end up way below par if I did that. Thanks to our guest reviewers from last time; Guest, Anna, Rielle Perrin, Elaine, and Louise Pond. Thanks to all my readers and reviewers – you are all awesome. See you next update.