Author's Note: Hello! Thank you for the lovely reviews last chapter. You all seemed pretty happy with last chapter so I'm very happy about that. This chapter was a little harder to write than I expected it to be. I'm not unhappy with it though. Give it a read and tell me what you think. 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 James and Mycroft Had A Fight

James and Anthea exited the cinema complex and began walking to through the small parking lot to Anthea's car. The fantasy film had been far longer than they'd expected and Anthea had to adjust to the new position of the setting sun. Going into a cinema or the theatre with the sun up and coming out while it was setting or gone was always disorientating. It was like stepping out of a time warp.

James must have felt it too, the odd sense of time passing suddenly, for when he sat down in the passenger seat in Anthea's car he looked around at the sky and made a low growl in his throat.

"I should probably turn my phone off silent now." He widened his eyes at Anthea as she started the car. "Return to the real world." Anthea laughed but in all honesty she was rather impressed by James' ability to turn his phone on silent and ignore it. Anthea couldn't do that anymore. She kept her phone on her lap with the brightness settings turned down in case anything should happen. She could never shake the feeling that in her line of work something could happen at any moment and even a few seconds delay in the spread of information could be the difference between a good outcome and a bad outcome. Instead of expressing all this to James Anthea shook her head and simply said.

"You're better than switching off than I am." Then again, James lived in a world where off duty actually meant off duty. James didn't respond. Anthea quickly looked over to him when she got the chance to see him frowning at his phone.

"I have like thirty missed calls from Carol." James announced, sounding very distracted. Anthea made sure she could change lanes and focused on that for a moment. Once she could she flickered her gaze back to James for a second then back to the road." Anthea knew from personal experience that Carol wasn't one to continuously call. She'd call once then send a text. Thirty missed calls, even if that number was a hyperbole from James, was very out of character unless she really needed to get hold of someone.

"Call her back." Anthea answered with a small shrug. "I don't mind. Probably lost in thought, James nodded three times before he began pressing buttons on his phone.

"I'll put her on speaker phone." He said, and a second later the noise of ringing filled the contained space of the car. "She's nicer to you." Anthea scoffed as she kept her eyes on the road.

Soon after the ringing stopped as Carol picked up the phone.

"Jesus, James! Why haven't you been answering your phone?" James blinked. He pulled a face at Anthea. Anthea smirked.

"Hey Carol, you're on speaker phone in A's car." James spoke as friendly as he always did.

A pause.

"Yeah, okay. That doesn't explain why you went dark." Not even a hello for Anthea? That was odd. That was concerning. James frowned as he sat up in the car seat.

"Calm down Carol, I was at the movies. My phone was on silent."

"You ignore your phone in the cinema? We can't do that James. Not anymore. I'll bet on my daughter's life that Anthea doesn't do that."

"It was on my lap." Anthea admitted.

"See?"

"Yeah, okay Carol, I get it." James hissed. "What's the big deal?"

"What's the big deal?" Carol never lost her cool. "The big deal is that the building was broken into and we couldn't get hold of the boss!" The temperature in the car dropped. A quick look over to James and Anthea could see that his happy-go-lucky expression was gone in favour of a solemn one.

"What?"

"Someone got into the building using the passwords and tried to take a bunch of files from the computer."

"Did they get anything?"

"They got a few personnel files before the computer shut them out."

"Shit." It was a whisper. Anthea doubted that Carol even heard James' voice then. Anthea kept her eyes on the road but focused on listening to the conversation quietly, like the shadowy assistant that she was. "Like what?"

"For one, we're going to have to change the licence plates on all the vehicles." James cursed again. Well, that meant Walter might be able to get some upgrades while the town car was out of use. "Before either of you ask, yes that includes all the armoured town cars loaned to VIPs." James' free hand found its way up to his hair as he scruffed up his neatly combed hair in frustration. It now was reminiscent of that styled messy way Tim did his hair.

"It has to come from the inside, right?" James seemed calm but he was speaking slightly faster than usual. He kicked Anthea's glovebox. She forgave him for now… "Like if they knew the passwords. Do we have footage? Of everyone who's been near the computers today?"

"We would if the video files hadn't been corrupted." James kicked the glovebox again.

"Hey," Anthea held a hand out to the passenger side. "It's an old car James, don't break it." His blue eyes fell onto Anthea's face in a childlike pout.

"Sorry, A." Anthea shrugged at him. She took a deep breath as she stopped at a red light.

"Carol, do you want me to call Mycroft? We have good people who might be able to salvage some footage. Even I could have a look a-"

"No offence, A. You're an angel, but the last thing we need right now is the government coming in a trying to put a Band-Aid on the problem by firing everyone." Anthea shut her mouth tight, grinding her teeth. She stretched out her neck and focused on the road. James scruffed up the back of his hair this time.

"She's right, A." He tried to smile sympathetically. "This is our problem. We need to handle it before any of you people find out and discredit us." Anthea felt the tension travel into her shoulders.

"You people?" She echoed James' words.

"You're one of them." Carol's voice sounded tinny through the phone. "You're not one of us, and you're not a normal person anymore, A. You don't get to play for multiple sides. It's only because we trust you that I don't make James take me off speaker phone." Anthea bit the inside of her lip.

...

Sweet blue eyes were on Anthea's profile.

…

"A?"

"Mmmhhmmm."

"Don't be mad."

"I'm not." She lied. "Please, Agents, continue your conversation." James looked up to the roof of the car and shook his head. Carol sighed.

"James just get here as soon as possible. We need to fix this."

"Yeah, I'll get A to drop me off now." He answered. Anthea changed lanes and flicked on her indication as she mentally planned the new route.

"And A, come over for dinner next week when I can apologise for being rude."

…

Anthea sighed.

"Katie would love to see you." Using her daughter as bait. That was low.

"I'll look at my schedule. We'll be able to work something out."

"James. Quick."

Anthea dropped James off at his work. The agent apologised profusely for any attitude he and Carol might have given her. Anthea told him to drop it. It was work. There had to be no hard feelings in this line when it came to telling people to take their nose out of things it didn't belong in. Any hurt feelings that Anthea had from the interaction would be gone tomorrow and in a few weeks the whole thing would probably be completely forgotten.

So after she dropped James off, Anthea headed to the original destination. Picking Jamie up from work. The PA and the agent were supposed to pick Jamie up straight after the movie, they'd chosen the session time very carefully so they could do so. Knowing Jamie she was probably getting really impatient right now and already had her list of question to barrage James and Anthea with when they turned up late. But when Anthea arrived alone without James and told her there was a work problem those questions would fade and Jamie would understand completely. Jamie had already adapted to this slightly off way of life already. She knew that things didn't always go to plan in this world.

Anthea managed to get a parking spot close to the front entrance to Jamie's salon. She locked the car and walked the few metres distance up to the shop and entered. The salon was nice. Fancy but not ridiculously so that you felt out of place in it. No one here was snobby but they were all good at what they did.

Jamie wasn't waiting by the door to the salon where she said she would be. Anthea pouted. That was a little odd but nothing that couldn't be explained away. Maybe the blonde had been running late and was still finishing up a client. Or maybe she was using the waiting time to train up one of the apprentices in techniques. Or maybe she'd convinced one of the hairdressers to do her hair while she was there.

Anthea entered the warm salon and scanned the area with a quick look around the space. There was no sign of the bubbly blonde. Well, she could be out back. Anthea shrugged to herself and decided to wait near the counter.

After about ten minutes a woman in her mid-forties looked Anthea's way. She walked over, heels clicking purposefully on the tiles. It reminded Anthea of the way she walked around the office.

"You were Jamie's maid of honour, weren't you?" The woman pointed at Anthea with a manicured nail. They were clean and elegant French tips. Anthea kept her face quite neutral as she nodded. The woman's face pulled into a tight smile. "I thought so. I'm the owner." Anthea mimed an 'oh' as she forced a smile onto her face.

"It's nice to meet you." She answered. Anthea quickly glanced around the salon again. "I'm here to pick Jamie up." She explained. The woman's smile faded. She brought her thin lips together.

"Actually, that's why I came over to talk to you." Her tone was lower. Anthea cocked her head lightly to the side. "Jamie didn't turn up for work. We tried calling her but she never answered."

"What?" Anthea asked, scrunching up her face. "That's not like her." Jamie wouldn't miss a day of anything without calling. Not to mention she would have texted James or Anthea to tell them not to come pick her up. Especially Anthea. She messaged Anthea when she lost her favourite lipstick.

"No, it's not." Jamie's boss agreed with Anthea. Anthea shook her head, unsure as to what to say.

"I'll go by her house now and see if anything's wrong." Anthea breathed. "Maybe she slept all day, I don't know." The boss seemed unconvinced with her tight lips.

"Tell her to call." She said. Anthea nodded.

Anthea knocked on the front door and waited.

…

She knocked again.

…

Minutes past and still no answer.

Anthea checked the time on her phone.

She knocked louder.

…

Another ten minutes past. Anthea felt a familiar tightness in her throat but tried to push it away. There was no point getting anxious. It was Jamie, Jamie who was always.

Fed up with waiting, Anthea decided to try opening the front door. Her friend would forgive her for breaking in. After all Jamie had a key to Anthea's flat still. Maybe this would lead to Anthea getting a key to the house. The odd thing is, however, that the door wasn't locked. Anthea twisted the knob and found it open.

Odd.

Sure, Jamie had lived in a town where you knew everyone on the street. Sure, Jamie didn't always lock the door at her parent's house or her old rental, but Jamie knew better than to do that in London. She had to. She was ditzy, not stupid. Hopefully this meant she was home.

As soon as Anthea stepped into her best friends' house she had a strange feeling. It's hard to put into words or explain it to another person but the whole environment looked off. At first glance everything seemed to be in the appropriate places and undisturbed but the whole thing felt screwed and crooked. It was like when someone told you a house was haunted. You'd enter it and the whole thing would look like a normal house but the energy would just feel off to you. You didn't know if it were in your imagination or not, but you knew you didn't like it.

As Anthea tried to mentally tell herself she was being crazy and that everything was normal, she took out her pair of black leather gloves out of her bag and put them on her hands. She'd long gotten used to the concept of not leaving fingerprints or disturbing evidence.

"Jamie?" Anthea called out as she slowly and quietly walked further into the house. "It's Anthea." She purposely didn't use her real name. Just in case. Anthea glanced over the couch to the coffee table. There was a coffee mug on a coaster. It still had milky coffee in it. Anthea walked around and placed her had against the mug. It was stone cold.

Anthea walked over to the kitchen. She glanced in before actually entering the space. A loaf of white bread and margarine were still on the counter. Anthea tucked a curl behind her ear. This was a little weird. Explainable, but weird. She took out her phone and took a photo. She went back into the living room and took a photo of the coffee table.

She was about to walk up the stairs when she noticed something. The door that lead to the back garden was open. Wide open. Even the flywire door hadn't been shut properly. Anthea swallowed her breath and walked over to get a better view before taking another photo.

She then, standing where she was, went into her contacts and called Jamie.

…

Ring. Ring.

Anthea pulled the phone away from her ear and listened. The familiar ringtone was coming from outside. Anthea approached the flywire and pushed it open. She saw a light near the fence. Anthea stepped through the door and walked into the garden. Jamie's phone was in the grass near the fence. Anthea followed the fence to see it lead to a gate. Feeling the tightness in her throat drop and become a deadweight in her stomach, Anthea took a photo of the phone.

She dialled another number.

"A, not a good time, yeah?" James sounded exasperated. "Can I call you later?" Anthea tried to swallow but her mouth had gone remarkably dry. Anthea looked back at the house.

"No, James. This is important." She ran her free gloved hand through her hair. "You haven't heard from Jamie at all today? None of your missed calls were from her or maybe one of her friends? Her brother?"

A pause.

Anthea could hear Carol yelling at someone in the background.

"Ah, no. Why?" He was distracted with work problems. Anthea closed her eyes and prepared herself.

"She didn't turn up to work today."

"Really?" James sounded surprised.

"I stopped by your house to check on her. Her phone is in the grass outside."

"What?" The background noise on the other side of the phone disappeared. "Well where is she? What happened? Is she okay?"

"I-." Anthea really wished she had a bottle of water on her. "I don't know, James. I'm trying to work that out."

"…."

"Can I call Mycroft, now?"

"Please." Anthea didn't even have time to reflect on how desperate James sounded. Anthea hung up on him quick smart. She quickly fired off the photos to Mycroft in an email and pressed call on his mobile. As the phone rung Anthea noticed that she'd begun trembling. Was it cold outside or was it just her?

"Hello, dear." Mycroft sounded so pleasant. It was weird and relieving at the same time. "I didn't expect to hear from you today."

"Myc." Anthea sighed. "Did you… Can you check the email I sent you?"

A pause.

"Okay." Mycroft answered with suspicion. She heard the clicking of a keyboard followed by the creak of Mycroft's chair.

There was silence as he examined the photos.

"This is James' house, yes?" He asked. Anthea was nodding before ten seconds before she managed to find her voice.

"I can't find Jamie." Now her voice was shaking.

"Don't move. Don't touch anything. I'll be right there."

The police searched the house.

Agents searched the house.

Mycroft's men searched the house.

The police refused to do anything until Jamie had been missing for 48 hours.

The agents' power was limited. Most resources were spent working on the break in and the security issues. They could only spare a man or two.

Mycroft had decided discretion was the best route.

That's how he, James, and Anthea had found themselves in Mycroft's home office. Mycroft was sitting behind the desk, James standing in front of it, and Anthea wandering around the room. She found she couldn't sit still.

"What the bloody hell do you mean discretion?" James had raised his voice. "If I could I'd send all my men and use all my resources to find her."

"And that would be a waste of men and money." Mycroft rolled his eyes. He soon found two pairs of eyes on him. One confused, the other set sending him daggers. "There are two reasons why that is not a good idea, James. The first is that we have no idea where to look yet. The second is we don't know the motivation of the possible kidnappers. Are they after you? Money? What? We need to wait and see." He held his palms out to James. "Sending men in their toting guns might frighten them enough to simply shoot their hostage." Anthea almost dropped her phone. Mycroft stopped and looked her way. James didn't even notice. James looked up to the roof and sighed.

"So what do you want to do then, Holmes?" He held his arms out in a large shrug. "What do you want to do about my wife?" Mycroft folded his hands together and placed them on the wooden surface.

"We wait for the ransom."

"What?" Anthea spat. James' eyes went shockingly wide.

"You're mad." He muttered. Mycroft clicked his tongue and rolled his steel eyes.

"No, no, no." Anthea stepped forward. She was shaking again. "No, we can't leave Jamie. No. She's tough but she's not that tough." Flashes of white tiles went through Anthea's mind.

"Alice." Mycroft looked her squarely in the eyes. "Trust me." Anthea swallowed and took a deep breath.

"But what if they hurt her?" Anthea asked him. Her eyes held onto Mycroft's.

"They won't." He spoke gently. "Not if they expect us to co-operate."

"How can you be so sure?" It was James this time who argue. Mycroft watched Anthea for a moment longer before he looked across to James.

"I know, James."

"How do you know?" He questioned. Mycroft exhaled sharply. "No!" James stepped forward. "Don't give me that Holmes attitude. I usually trust you no matter what. Why should I trust you now?"

"I know. Isn't that enough?" Mycroft breathed.

"For once it's not enough." James placed his hands on the table. "Because all I know is that you don't get along with my wife." Mycroft leaned back in his chair as he listened. "If this was Sherlock or Anthea you'd do everything you could. But because this is someone you don't like you don't care."

"James."

"No, Ali. You know it's true. Look at how we faked Sherlock's death. Look how quickly we came after you. I'm nothing but loyal and he can't even do this for me."

"No, James." Mycroft sneered. "You're entirely wrong as per usual."

"Really, sir?" James questioned.

"Yes, James." Steel eyes bore into James' skull. "The budget won't allow for an extravagant raid for a civilian when we don't have any evidence." Anthea knew what Mycroft was getting at. All the pieces fell into place. She rubbed at her forehead as if it were a headache bothering her and not this whole situation.

"Make room in the budget then!"

"He can't." Anthea sighed. James glanced over his shoulder at Anthea.

"Why not? For your best friend, A, why not?" James shrugged. "Because it's better off spent renovating your office? Or better spent on expensive toys no one uses? Or is it because he just doesn't want to find the money?"

"James." Anthea sighed.

"Or maybe he thinks this is finally a chance to get rid of our tag-along."

"Will you stop ranting like a lunatic?" Mycroft bemoaned. It seemed to work for a second. James' trained instincts to listen to Mycroft calmed him as he scuffed up his hair. Then he continued.

"Only if you tell me why you won't put the amount of effort you put into saving your brother into saving my wife?" At least he wasn't manic as he spoke. "I get that you don't have friends, I get that I'm no one to you, but Anthea is. This is her family. I liked to think there was a part of you that would be kind enough to help."

"James." Anthea warned quietly again. "That's not fair, he's helping."

"Barely." The agent looked lost, scared, and angry at the same time. "I just want the truth."

"The reason for this approach is because of you, James." Mycroft spoke calmly. He leaned forward. "I know you had a security lapse at the agency. I know this is because you didn't carefully choose staff to maintain the systems. I know this is because you haven't changed all the security passwords since you took your higher position, and I know that this and Jamie's kidnapping are linked. We will hear a ransom because this person wants something from you, James." James' heat disappeared more and more with every word Mycroft said. "I am offering my time to fix your mistakes. I have to find my girlfriend's friend because you don't know how to do a job I seem to have given you too early. Any objections?"

Silence.

"Good." Mycroft leaned back in his chair. Anthea stepped forward and took James' hand. She gave it a squeeze and he squeezed back. Mycroft cleared his throat. "With that said," He continued. "I shall talk to Sherlock about doing some investigation. If he can discreetly find out more information we may be able to act sooner."

Silence.

Anthea squeezed James' hand again, prompting him.

"That would be appreciated, sir." He spoke through gritted teeth. Mycroft nodded without meeting James' eye.

"You know the way out." He waved his hand towards the door. Anthea pulled James into a hug.

"Call me if you need to." She whispered to him. The big teddy squeezed her tight.

"You too." And he left.

Anthea sat down on the couch and buried her face into her hands. That was too much tension. This whole thing was too much. She was focusing on her breathing and trying to steady herself. She heard noise across the room and then felt the couch besides her lower. Mycroft had sat on the couch next to her.

"You didn't have to be so mean." Anthea breathed. Mycroft scoffed.

"He didn't have to be either." Anthea wanted to say something back to that, she really did. She wanted to say something in defence of either of them, it didn't matter, but she couldn't find her words.

She just sat there with her face buried, and he sat there next to her. There they stayed as time passed around them. Anthea didn't know how much time passed before she finally looked up and exhaled. She shook her head.

"I should go." Her voice was quiet.

"No you shouldn't." Mycroft responded. Anthea shook her head again.

"I need to go home." It was the best she could come up with. Her brain wasn't working correctly. "We have work early…" She trailed off.

"We both know you're not going to sleep tonight." Mycroft kept his tone neutral and calm. "You might as well not sleep in the company of another." Anthea rubbed at her neck.

"I don't know. I don't want to keep you up and I'll just spread negative energy."

"Alice." Mycroft sat up to look at Anthea directly. "We're going to find her, and until then I don't want you alone." Anthea got caught in those steel orbs. They seemed so sure and so calm… and Mycroft was almost always right, except when it came to relationship stuff. Anthea nodded.

"Okay." She whispered.

"You know Jamie," Mycroft rolled his eyes. "She won't be making this easy. She'll be giving anyone more hell than you, I, or Sherlock could even dream of." Anthea's emotions betrayed her. She broke into a small smile and laughed.

"She's pretty tough."

"Tough?" Mycroft smirked. "She's headstrong and annoying. That's worse than tough."

Anthea rested her head on Mycroft's shoulder.

Author's Note:So, what do we think? Was it okay? Clearly this will be a two-parter. It's something I've been thinking about doing on and off for a while. Anyway… Thanks to our two guest reviewers: Tadaa, and M. Very few this time when the chapter before had heaps. As I said I always find that fascinating. Thanks to all my readers. I'll see you in five days for the next update.