Author's Note: Hi guys! Thanks for all the lovely reviews last chapter! Lots of cuteness. It makes me so happy that you guys love James Squared so much! It is so weird to me. As for this chapter… This was a first chosen by the Tumblr readers. I let them choose a first, so here it is. I was honestly surprised I hadn't done it yet or why it wasn't on my list. It was finished very much at the last minute so excuse me any errors. 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 He Fell Asleep At His Desk
The moment Porluck called them Anthea knew they were in for a rough week. The man only ever called directly when it was practically a disaster. This particular disaster was a group of undercover people suddenly giving out radio silence. They couldn't be found anywhere. Normally that would still be Porluck's issue since they were working for him if it wasn't for the very private information they were trying to recover at the time. With that coupled with the sudden state of emergency meant that the emergency could be handballed over to Mycroft Holmes' office. Let him and his staff deal with it and either find the team or neutralise the threat.
"It'll take you a few days, Mycroft." The man had spoken to Mycroft as Mycroft sat at his desk rubbing his temples. "With the agents involved you can split the load with Carol and James."
"Carol has a family and James is preparing for one." Mycroft snapped, looking up with fierce blue eyes. Anthea stood there, giving off as much cold energy as she could to back up her boss. "Doing this to me is one thing, Roger, doing this to all of us in another thing entirely."
"I have a family also."
"But it was your incompetence that lead to this. You should be the one fixing your mistake, not us." Mycroft sneered. "Not them." Porluck squared off his shoulders. He glanced over to Anthea who only quirked an eyebrow. He turned back to Mycroft with a sniff.
"Your uncle would never speak to a colleague like that." He scolded the slightly younger man. Mycroft sighed and pulled a piece of lint off his jacket.
"My uncle also wore perfume to work. The same one as Lady Smallwood, actually." Mycroft falsely smiled. "He's also asked me in personal letters what brand make up my assistant uses. Would you like me to copy those attributes too?" Mycroft fluttered his eyelids and Anthea laughed quietly. Mycroft folded his hands together, demonstrating a serious once more. "I will fix this for you Roger, but you are my equal and not a superior so I will expect a favour in return." The man nod firmly and cordially.
"Certainly, Mycroft. That's more like it." Anthea watched as Porluck's mouth turned into a guarded smile. "Name your price." Mycroft hummed in response and shook his head.
"Oh dear, Roger. I am not my uncle once again. I hold onto my promises. We won't be calling on you until we need you. Won't we, dear?" Mycroft addressed Anthea over his shoulder without taking his eyes off his equal.
"That's correct, sir." Anthea nodded. Unlike another official, unlike someone outside of P-A-L-L, Porluck's polite smile grew into something darker and he chuckled lowly.
"You're very good, Antarctica." He sounded pleased. Proud. Mycroft pursed his lips and feigned curtesy but Anthea could see how fake it was. She wasn't that fond of how much they praised the cold Ice Man side of Mycroft. "Send me the reports when you're done."
"Will do." Mycroft sighed as the man walked out of the office, closing the door behind him. As soon as they heard the outer office door close with a thud Anthea turned to Mycroft. The pair exchanged exasperated looks. They knew it was going to be tough and they'd be working hard for the foreseeable future.
"Should I order us dinner for to be brought down now, or should I wait until later this evening?" Anthea asked. They were going to be there all night. James and Carol would be on phones and watching screens all night and would probably already by loading up on chips and energy drinks. Mycroft waved Anthea off with a flick of the wrist.
"We'll play it by ear, my love." He hummed. Anthea was about to move out of the office when something sparked out at her once again. She cocked her head at Mycroft, crinkling her nose and smiling wryly.
"Does Uncle Rudy really ask you about my make up?" She couldn't keep the light out her voice. Even Mycroft's eyes glittered a little.
"Don't feel too flattered," Mycroft raised his eyebrows. "He's asked my mother, my grandmother, his daughter, and his son's first fiancé the same question. According to him; finding foundation to cover a knife scar is quite difficult." Mycroft took a breath and stared reflectively at his desktop. "Apparently stage lights still show the wound."
Time crept away. Sometime it ran at full speed and sometimes it crawled away like a dying insect trying to escape. None the less hours upon hours were spent in office chairs, on phones, running from office to office. The sun disappeared and they kept going. Everyone involved kept going. Momentum picked up at every new lead and dissipated briefly at every wrong turn. Then there was trying to keep up with business-as-usual while all this was going on. Filling in paperwork between dead air, waiting on the edge of seats.
If it were left to Mycroft and Anthea the pair would most likely have forgotten to eat something for lunch or dinner until their stomachs began eating themselves in the late evening. Thankfully it did not come to that. There was a knock at the door at relief came in the image of a blonde angel. Jamie had obviously been called by James to say he'd be home late. Jamie had made and packed some sandwiches and dropped them off to James and Carol so that they didn't try to survive all night on the junk in the office. Knowing that James and Carol throw the word "Holmes" around a lot during emergencies she'd figured Anthea and Mycroft would probably be involved too so she had made some extra sandwiches for them, knowing all they probably had in the cupboard were biscuits. She didn't even stay for longer than a minute. Very unexpected for Jamie she just wanted to drop off the food and get out of the way.
"If I can't know anything I can at least keep you all alive in the only way I can." She'd laughed brightly.
Mycroft didn't even question where the sandwiches came from. Anthea wondered if he knew or if he didn't but just didn't care. It could go either way with how busy and fixated his was right now. The genius wasn't leaving his computer or his phone and was sending Anthea on any run-arounds that needed to be done. The tie had been loosened and it wouldn't be long until the jacket was removed. Nor would it be too long before Anthea tied her hair back in a messy bun of curls.
Frantic organisation and phone calls faded away and turned into waiting. Waiting constantly for a call, a fax, any type of news that could be a new lead. Just even a thread from a coat that one of the men might have been wearing would be enough. It was always this part that was the hardest. There was nothing you could do but work on other tasks and wait. It was like being stuck in an Absurdist play from hell. Ionesco and Beckett would be proud.
Anthea had moved from her desk to the seat across from Mycroft's desk in his inner sanctum over two hours ago. Initially she had been working on emails on her laptop while she sat nearby in order to run off at any word from Mycroft or any notification they may receive. Mycroft had been busily typing away and by the flickering of his eyes and how often he used the mouse it was clear that he was multitasking.
Now Mycroft sat with his hands folded together, knuckles against his lips as he leaned on his desk and stared daggers at his computer screen. Anthea sat against the chair with her phone's charger plugged into an extension cord so that it may sit in her lap and she could continue to use it. The room was dark and silent, and time had even stopped crawling away as it now lay dead on the floor in a single position. Even when Anthea's eyes would flutter shut and she'd open them with a start she'd check her phone and barely moments had passed. Time liked to play with the people who thought they could break the rules. Like it wanted to make people like Anthea, Mycroft, James, and Porluck remember they were humans and really had no control over the universe. Anthea was reminded again as she forced herself to sit up and wake up for the millionth time.
"Anthea." Mycroft's voice was hoarse from barely using it for the last few hours. Anthea cleared her vision and looked his way. He was still sitting in the same hunched position at his desk but his tired grey eyes were watching her rather than his screen. His hair had lost its shape and that lock that always fell into his face when given any opportunity hung to his forehead. Anthea would love to stroke it out of his face. His jacket was long gone and his sleeves were rolled up. Anthea could tell that Mycroft's body was more exhausted than his mind – eyes still having some fierceness to them. "Go home and get some sleep." He ordered her. Anthea's lips formed a taught smile and she shook her head, feeling a little dizzy as she did.
"I'm fine, sir." She dismissed him. Mycroft gave her a long look. He looked across the room, brain ticking, and when he looked back he allowed more of the exhaustion to show.
"Alice, my love," This time it was gentle and definitely not talking to his assistant. "Go home and get three hours sleep." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Eat your ridiculous banana when you wake up, and bring me a clean suit." As Anthea laughed breathlessly the edge of Mycroft's mouth twitched upwards. "There is no need for us both to wait here during the dead hours." He took on some of his authority again but only an underlying hint. "You'll be much more useful to me after a quick rest. Not only because you'll be far more capable as an assistant but also I won't have to worry about you."
"What about you?" Anthea asked, folding one leg over the other and leaning in closer to him. "You're the one whose brain needs to be working." Mycroft sniffed in derision.
"Please my dear," He scoffed. "Even at half capacity I am more useful than an entire boardroom full of well rested experts." Anthea rolled her eyes. She was falling asleep where she was sitting. She'd be no use if she practically collapsed in the office. If she went and napped for a few hours she could bring fresh coffee later. She looked at the time. It was 5am. If she got home by 5.30am she could wake up at 8.30am and be here by 9. If anything happened she was a phone call away.
"Think it's a black and red kind of day?" Anthea asked, referring to the suit Mycroft wanted her to bring. The genius nodded.
"Bring cufflinks. These ones won't match."
Three hours was not enough to invigorate anyone. It anything Anthea felt worse than before she slept. Her brain felt like it was functioning faster but her body wanted nothing more than to fall back into the haze of sleep. She wasn't going to complain, though. She done far more feeling far worse and Mycroft, and probably James, were currently operating on no sleep. So she dragged herself to have a cold shower, threw herself together, gathered the suit, and headed out to get to the office. She'd make a detour to go to that nice coffee shop near her old flat first.
Mycroft's eyes looked hooded and heavy as he worked on paperwork. He had three piles in front of him – completed, to be completed, and to be passed out to other people. Anthea would grab that pile on her way out and put it on her desk. The genius wore his sombre neutral expression and even his breathing was quiet in this room. If he'd seen Anthea enter he hadn't made a point to acknowledge it. The personal assistant walked over, on smaller heels than usual, and placed the take away cup of very strong coffee on the desk where she'd normally put his tea. She also placed down the white paper bag with a chocolate croissant in it. Mycroft's nostrils flared as he took in the smell of melted chocolate and dulling grey eyes look them over. Anthea was happy to see a sign of life.
"When you're working yourself to the bone you need a treat." She said like it was a fact. Mycroft quirked an eyebrow at her, an unspoken question. Anthea nodded, answering his question. "I ate mine on the way up here." She elaborated. Mycroft took the bag in his slender hands and opened it up. He inhaled the scent of the pastry and a little spark re-entered his slacking body.
"You are a very good assistant, Miss James." He praised her with a deep sigh. Anthea bit her bottom lip and inwardly swelled with happiness and pride.
"I'm more of a babysitter." She teased. She reached out and pushed that lock of hair out of Mycroft's face. He blinked in surprised by did not pull away or flinch. Was he too tired to even react or had his body learnt to trust Anthea more? She could see that he was fraying around the edges – how dull his eyes were and how slow his movements were. Why did everyone always assume he was up to tasks like this? Did they think he'd delegate so he'd go home to his soft bed? That's not what a Holmes did. Anthea clicked her tongue as she removed her hand. "Speaking of which." She muttered as she picked up the pile of files she knew was for her to deal out or look over. "Anything happen." Mycroft hummed in his throat. He moved the take away coffee mug so that the logo was facing the direction he'd normally have the handle of the teacup facing.
"We're waiting to hear from a lead at this moment." His finger traced the top of the plastic lid. "Carol is certain that within the next twelve hours we should have any survivors on their way home." Anthea clenched her jaw. James would hate the talk of any survivors.
"So back to the waiting game then, sir?" She asked. Then genius gave a melancholic smile.
"Nothing to be done." The Beckett quote fell from his mouth with the same level of acceptance you'd expect the character to say it with.
Anthea got back to endless paperwork and waiting at her desk, and Mycroft got back to endless paperwork and waiting at his desk.
Finally leads began leading to other leads. The lone thread began weaving and attaching to others. It was looking promising that eventually something would be solved, for better or for worse, and Porluck would owe Antarctica a rather large favour. Even so, between every phone call and message was a lot of silence. At this point Anthea was working on items she didn't even need done for a month. Work was going to be a breeze for her for the foreseeable future given nothing dramatic happens again.
Her phone beeping on the desk set her reflexes off immediately. Her hand jumped from the keyboard to snatch it up. The fact that it was from Carol set her on high alert.
James is getting on a copter now. He'll call if there's anything to report. Until then just keep going. – Carol.
Anthea blinked at the time. When had it become the afternoon again?
You mean sit around staring at the phone? – A.
Exactly. – Carol.
Anthea put her phone down a little harder than necessary, making a thump on the desk. A message to tell you to continue to wait. If she wasn't certain she was stuck in an Absurdist play before, Anthea knew she was now. She deemed this new revelation worthy of strong coffee. She went to the kitchenette, got out the very good, very expensive coffee and made the strongest ones she could. She defile Mycroft's with his milk and sugar but left hers black and pure. She placed her boiling hot mug down on her desk and carried the other one over to Mycroft's office. As usual she knocked, waited a few seconds, and let herself in.
He was asleep.
The Ice Man was asleep.
Mycroft had fallen asleep with his head resting on his hands and his nose buried in a folder of documents. His breathing was steady and he looked a little troubled but at rest. Anthea's eyes were as large as saucers as she approached the desk. She placed the coffee down and bent down to get a better look.
Mycroft's back was going to be killing him later with how he was leaning over his desk. He'd not be able to go for a run or a walk for at least a few days. His new suit hadn't even been dishevelled yet – the jacket still on and the tie pristine. He'd be annoyed at the crinkles this position would cause. He'd also be extremely mad at himself for falling asleep. A good assistant would find a way to subtly wake him up. So might the unobservant girlfriend. The woman who had watched the man struggle with sleep for eons now didn't even want to consider waking him up if he could even get half an hour of sleep. James would be traveling for over half an hour. There would be no news for at least an hour. There was no harm here except to egos.
Anthea stroked Mycroft's hair back, her hand lingering on the back of his head. She leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. He couldn't argue when he was asleep, he couldn't flinch, and he couldn't sigh. She left the coffee on his desk just in case but with her she took a number of files out of his pile to complete on her own back at her desk.
She was careful to close the door without a noise.
"Five alive." The voice startled Anthea. She sniffed and sat up. She'd been dozing off into a file again. First her eyes went to the time on her phone. It was late evening again. What even was time at this point? With that sorted she swung around in her chair to find Mycroft standing in the doorway between her office and his. His hair fell down his head once more. "Three dead, and two missing. We're pulling the survivors out and sending in an expert team to retrieve… whatever may remain." Alive or dead were the words he didn't say. Anthea scrunched up her face as if it would help clear her mind. She took a breath and ran a hand through her curls.
"Would you like me to write up a report for Roger, sir?" She asked. Really this was her asking if they were done with this. She didn't have the time or the energy to mourn for the lost souls. James and Carol would do that enough for everyone and Mycroft was paid to be the brains, not the heart, Anthea his hands and tools – not a stethoscope. They'd have a scotch when they got home and dedicate it to those who have lost a loved one. That's all they could do. Mycroft nodded solemnly.
"Please, Miss James. We'll leave once it has been completed." He said. Anthea nodded and turned back to her computer. "But one thing, Miss James." Anthea raised her eyebrows and turned back to Mycroft. His eyes were cold as they fixated on her. "You may think you're doing me a kindness but I am needed her in the present. Next time you find me asleep then please, wake me up." Anthea pouted her lips to stop from smiling.
"Yes, sir." She said.
A beat.
"Do you want to give me Alice's response?" Mycroft cocked his head to the side, leaning it against the doorframe. Anthea's face relaxed.
"You deserved it more than I deserved a break. Don't be so hard on yourself, Mycroft." Mycroft laughed under his breath – the only sign he did so being the sudden shake in his chest.
"I recognise that was you being kind." That was his thank you.
"You're welcome." Anthea cooed. She turned back to the computer and opened the document she had already drafted. Now just to fill in the details.
"Do you want to stop somewhere nice for dinner or order simply a ridiculous amount of food be delivered home?" Mycroft's voice was distant. He had returned to his inner sanctum but had left the door open.
"What kind of question is that?"
"Apologies. I'll bring up the take out menus on my phone while you finalise the document."
You know Sherlock Holmes? Can I ask you a question? – E.
I might not be able to answer, but sure. – A.
Where does that hat come from? – E.
He tried to cover his face with it but people still recognised him. Now he's branded with it. We've made it our mission to make sure he's stuck with it forever. – A.
That is humorous, I suppose. The way people think and make connections like that. – E.
Any other questions? – A.
No. Just the hat for now. – E.
Author's Note: How was that? It was a lot longer than I expected it to be but like I said I'm getting really bad at guessing lengths! Do let me know what you think. Thanks to our guest reviewers: Madalina, Christie, B, and Guest. Thanks to all my readers and reviewers. I love you all, let me know what you thought of all this, and I'll see you all in five days!