Author's Note: Hi guys! First of all, thanks for being so patient with me, it means a lot. Secondly thanks for the lovely feedback last chapter. Either people thought Mycroft was cute or they were excited at the Emily thing. I'm a little iffy about this chapter. I wanted so badly to get it right but I'm not the greatest at the type of scene that makes up the bulk of this. I hope it turns out well because this has been in my head for ages. Lauren could tell you how much I loved the idea of this. So yeah, I really hope you at least think its okay. 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 In Public
James' mission had come back successful, but not as successful as they would have hoped. The group that had been planning an attack had been disbanded but not all the members had been caught. The worst part of this was that this group wasn't after one specific person. If they were it would have been easy to guard that person and hope the others either show up or disappear into the wind. No, their aim was vague. They wanted to get someone – anyone. They just wanted to make their statement to the rich and powerful. Show that all that power was superficial when push came to shove. Anyone with a lot of money or a little power would do.
Naturally, this lack of direction left James and his agents a little ruffled. Groups like these and anarchists groups were the hardest to account for. Tracking them down could be simple, but these guys were smart. No discernible target meant too many places to search, too many people to guard, and too much work for any of the agents trained in this line of work. Anthea and Mycroft were waiting for the moment James would ask for help from one of Mycroft's many contacts.
Not that Anthea and Mycroft were taking this lightly. Or they were, but their security team weren't. Anthea pulled up to the house after being to the chemist and the team asked her if she'd gotten her prescription from a reputable source and whether she'd like them to test her antibiotic for poison. After laughing at the absurdity of it, Anthea began to wonder when she fell into the list of rich and/or powerful. Mycroft's gardener was searched. Security checked Mycroft's backseat when he went to use his car. He was so annoyed he called Walter instead. The normally invisible team had suddenly become very visible in the household. Leaving the house was like a breath of fresh air. It was freedom.
Even the Diogenes Club was freedom. As annoying as that place was at least it meant Anthea could walk out the door without a hundred questions about where she was going. That's why she and Mycroft had decided to work out of the Dungeon for a few days. Their security team wasn't allowed to stomp around here. No agents were allowed here to ask questions without express permission first. Until this all blew over Anthea would be fine trying to work in the strange dim lighting of the Dungeon.
Of course, Anthea could do without all the glares from the men. After all these years, even now, as she walked through the entrance and her heels clicked they looked at her like she was screaming at the top of her lungs. It made no difference that she walked side by side with the precious Mycroft Holmes. The only consolation to her was that John, Sherlock, and Mary when she was alive, had received the same treatment upon visiting. Anthea wasn't a visitor though. She was allowed to be walking through the main space with her boss like she was right now.
Bang.
The sound of a gunshot echoed through the hallowed halls of the ever silent Diogenes Club. It was disorientating and bounced around the space like the bullet itself was ricocheting. A place built for silence did not have the greatest of acoustics considered when built. Anthea and Mycroft looked around, Anthea frantically and Mycroft alert, trying to find the source.
And then someone grunted.
The grunt of shock and pain out of an old man's throat came from the two rows of chairs facing the walls to Anthea's right. Those chairs where the men would sit and judge her as her heels echoed. One of those regulars grunted in pain.
The victim was seen first, clutching at his right shoulder. No blood could be seen from underneath his black suit but he was definitely wracked with pain. A glance behind him showed that the man who had been sitting in the seat behind him was holding the smoking gun, literally and figuratively. He was not a regular. Anthea knew the faces of all the men who entered this club and this was not one of them. His suit wasn't tailored to his body, very unusual for those in here, and he held himself with a loose attitude that did not belong amongst these stuffy gentlemen. One might forgive him for maybe being new to power or money and not being used to the unspoken social rules of their fancy new club, but the gun he held obvious proved that theory wrong.
Mycroft's hand tightened on his umbrella handled.
Anthea steadied her breathing.
One of the gentlemen in the seats stood up.
Bang.
The man with the gun shot the ground next to the gentlemen's feet. He jumped out of his skin, anything he was about to do now forgotten. As he began lowering himself slowly into the seat, Mycroft twisted his umbrella handle in just the right direction. Anthea watched out of the corner of her eyes as Mycroft removed his emergency gun, aimed it, and shot the attacker. The bullet hit him right in the shoulder exactly where he had shot his target. The attacker hissed, dropping the gun. Mycroft shot the man again and he fell to the floor.
Anthea snatched the rest of the umbrella off the floor. She ran over to the man lying on the floor and kicked the gun out of reach. He did not look like he was waking up and moving any time soon but she was too well trained to leave that gun near his hand. She turned around to see another man pointing a gun right at her forehead. This man had been in one of the seats and looked much older than the other assailant. Anthea swore she knew this man's face but like she hadn't seen him in a while. Maybe an ex-member. Maybe he'd once held power and it was ripped away from him so he was bitter.
As the gun was held to her head Anthea was very aware that all she held in her hands was a sword. Still sheathed in its hide out it was useless against a firearm. The older man pointed to the ground with a tip of his gun. He wanted her to put down the umbrella. Anthea smiled sweetly and slowly lowered it to the ground. As she stood back up the man gestured to her handbag, afraid she might be carrying a firearm. Anthea rolled her eyes and dropped the bag. The fact that the man was respecting the club's silence rule meant he had to be an old member.
Anthea's eyes flickered over to Mycroft. The genius was watching carefully. His eyes flickered over to one of the chairs, asking Anthea silently to follow his gaze. In the seat right behind the new man with the gun was an ex-agent. A scruffy old bearded man who looked like Santa Clause might if he was a wrestler, this Agent retired years ago. He worked with Rudy, then with Walter for a while. Anthea only knew him from smiles and stories. He was moving very slowly from him seat as to not make a noise.
To distract the gunman Anthea held her hands up in a surrender. She stepped forward carefully. The man jutted the gun towards her shakily. He wasn't used to the firearm. Good. It meant his chances at being accurate or aiming to kill would be low. Anthea mimed the word 'sorry' and tried to appear as if she had no power and was frightened. She clasped her hands together and bowed, holding the man's attention. She took another step forward. The man's eyes bulged and his jaw clenched to stop from shaking. Anthea kept her eyes carefully on him and the gun as to not bring attention to the retired agent sneaking up behind him.
The agent wrapped one hand around the man's mouth and one around his arm. He pulled back, the man wailing behind his closed mouth. He shot the gun, everyone cowering. A quick glance up showed he shot the room. The agent knocked the assailant out and lay him on the floor. Anthea picked up her hand bag and the umbrella. She used the umbrella to swat the gun away. It went sliding on the floor and underneath one of the chairs.
Anthea looked at Mycroft. He looked cautious but pleased. A glint of something devilish and delighted in his eyes as he was still on alert. Anthea smirked back at him and began walking towards him, her footsteps once again echoing on the club walls.
Bang.
A bullet whizzed right passed Mycroft's head, missed Anthea, and went into one of the armchairs. Anthea's eyes widened as she looked at Mycroft.
Bang.
Another one whizzed past them, this time hitting one of the members in the calf. It had to have been meant for Anthea or Mycroft. It was the only way to explain why it came so close to them and only managed to hit that man in the leg. Neither Mycroft nor Anthea had time to stop and pay attention to the club patron wailing in pain. They both looked around. As Anthea stepped forward to investigate Mycroft held and arm out, stopping Anthea from stepping in front of him. He wanted her behind him, safe.
Sure, she might be powerful now, but when did her life become more valuable than Mycroft Holmes'? Last time she checked there was information on her phone more valuable than her life was.
The found him on the other side of the room, standing near the front desk. The staff members were cowering under their desk and had no doubt pressed a panic button or called for help from higher powers than the police. If they were smart they'd have done both. This gunman was dressed as a staff member. Anthea didn't blame him. She'd much rather be a staff member than a member of the club any day.
As quickly as Anthea processed all this was how fast it took for Mycroft to fire a shot. Taking a note out of James' book and adapting it to his own style, Mycroft shot the man where his wrist and his hand met in the base of his hand. The gunman's hand twisted at a strange angle as he dropped the gun. He cursed loudly as he grabbed at his hand. Anthea took the opportunity to dip under Mycroft's arm. She ran up to the desk, picked up a heavy, antiquated vase and smashed it over the man's head, knocking him out. He lay on the floor out cold.
Silence.
They waited.
They waited for another attacker to emerge.
They waited for a gunshot, more cursing.
Anything.
Nothing else came.
Anthea's heart beat rapidly in her chest as she relaxed her shoulders and looked over at Mycroft. He raised his eyebrows at her and pursed his lips. She looked at him standing there, surveying the scene, surveying her. He stood there in all his grace and he was fine. They both had close calls but both of them were practically unscathed. This dangerous adventure had turned out well and somehow they had come out as the heroes. Anthea had to stop herself from bursting into relieved and shocked laughter. She held her mouth shut by placing her fingers gently against her lips. Mycroft noticed and practically fizzled with amusement. His eyes were on her lips, his own resisting the deep urge to pull into a smirk.
Police and MI6 were called and were on their way. Wounds were attended to the best they could before a medical team could arrive. Living assailants were locked in a room, with their wounds politely taken care of also. The whole ordeal was almost over, but the energy was still electric and everyone was buzzing. It would lead to inconsistencies when giving details to the authorities. It didn't matter much to Anthea though, she loved this feeling. She hated being shot at, but she loved the feeling afterwards. It was like getting off a rollercoaster. Your blood was think and pumping, you could hear your heart in your ears and life was full of wonder and excitement. Everything was an adventure. Mycroft felt it too, he had a bounce to his every movement that was more commonly seen in his brother or his mother. He was also not at all interested in silently trying to communicate with the staff.
She'd missed the beginning of it and the view being obscured, Anthea saw Mycroft signing to a staff member but she couldn't read it. All she caught was him pointing upstairs when he finished. The staff member looked panicked as the signed back.
But what about the agents?
The asked. Mycroft rolled his eyes.
We'll be back down. He replied, an annoyed expression dramatic over his face. The staff member began signing back but it was too late, Mycroft was already walking away with a fierce level of determinism. The genius looked at Anthea. With a nod of his head he gestured Anthea to follow. Maybe he knew something that she didn't about these people. Maybe he wanted to talk about it with her. But if that was the case why weren't they going to the Dungeon office downstairs?
Even once they were up the first level of stairs they did not stop at the personal suites. They walked right passed the door to Mycroft's room, and kept walking right ahead. They were heading to the Stranger's room. The room where non-members were allowed to visit members and talk. Mycroft pushed the door open and held it open, like the gentleman he was, letting Anthea enter first.
The door was shut, locked, and doubled checked with a hard yank that it was locked. Satisfied, Mycroft looked at Anthea with wild adoring eyes. He placed both hands under her jaw, long fingers brushing her earlobes, and kissed her deeply. Despite being shocked by the sudden passionate display the adrenaline and endorphins running through Anthea's body immediately responded to the kiss and pushed back just as passionately.
It was like that very first kiss that took place in this very club all over again. The passion, the love of live that manifests itself in love for your loved one. It was the same wild impulsiveness that lead to the NDA but this time would not lead to such an offensive turn out. This time they could indulge. This time it didn't matter if Anthea pulled on Mycroft's lapel to feel his heat closer to her chest. It didn't matter that Mycroft pinned Anthea to the wall to be able to manoeuvre around her better. This time this excitement for being alive and zest for adventure was allowed. This time the celebration was correct.
Until Anthea felt Mycroft's hand sneak up her skirt. She yelped in the genius' mouth. Anthea pulled out of the kiss, took hold of Mycroft's hand and pulled it up to their chests, and took a moment to catch her breath. Mycroft let her. He did not fight, he did not complain, he let his hand be taken away. It wasn't that Anthea didn't appreciate it, it was more the location.
"Now?" She cocked her head to the side as she asked breathlessly. "Here?" She laughed. Mycroft nodded. She could feel his thumb caressing her fingers as she held his hand. Anthea glanced around the dark unwelcoming Stanger's room. "Why?" She asked, not even trying to keep the grin off her face.
"Did you see yourself?" Mycroft growled. "Beautiful, quick, and the right combination of intelligent and stupid that leads to incredible actions." Anthea felt the heat in her cheeks. She let go of Mycroft's hand and placed both hands on his chest.
"You always look incredible doing leg work." She replied, tracing a circle on the material of his shirt with her index finger. It was all she could do to stop from undoing his buttons.
"Then you know exactly what it feels like to want, no, need to have something so incredible in your hands." Mycroft hummed as he tucked some hair behind Anthea's ear. A shiver went down Anthea's spine. Her hands moved from his chest to hold tightly to his lapels again. She was becoming acutely aware that this was probably going to happen. Right in the club, right in this stupid place that was hallowed ground to so many ridiculous people, it was going to happen. It kind of made it all that much better. Anthea laughed at the thought. She crinkled her nose.
"Does that mean I have to be silent?" She teased. Mycroft took that to be his que to continue, first with a passionate kiss, then with the continued exploration. Anthea gasped when Mycroft's hand found their way into her skirt again. His hand that had been against the wall was place gently but firmly against her mouth. It was excited, it was like danger and a rule to defy at the same time. Anthea never did like the rules of the club. She opened her mouth and bit into the skin of Mycroft's finger. The tall brunette pulled away sharply and silently. He investigated the deep teeth marks in his long finger with a brilliant curiosity. He stroked the markings with his thumb and sparked more amusement when his own touch was met with pain. She knew what she was doing. He looked at Anthea with that naughty school boy glint that made him look like he was up to no good.
"Oh, my love." He whispered. "If that's how you wish to play then let's play." Anthea bit her bottom lip and quirked her eyebrows up and down, daring him to continue playing. He undid the top few buttons on her shirt. Right on the soft skin between her bra and her collar bone where it could easily be hidden by a shirt Mycroft returned Anthea's bit. She gasped again and this time had to fight back a loud moan. It came out as a soft whimper.
Oh yes, this was definitely happening.
They had to be breaking all the club rules.
The best part was that no one would dare question Mycroft Holmes about it. Not even when they came downstairs looking a little dishevelled. Anthea's hair wouldn't be pristine, and Mycroft's suit would be wrinkled where Anthea had gripped tightly to it. They'd all know, and Anthea would know, and that made it so much better.
No. That was a lie. That wasn't the best part of all this. Not at all. The best part about this was that this time, after this was done, Anthea would get to go home with Mycroft. She'd get to sleep in their bed. She'd go to work tomorrow and there would be no offensive document on her desk. This time there would be no regrets. This time they knew they loved each other, and that made is so much better.
Author's Note: How was it? Alright? I've been complaining to anyone who will listen that I suck at action scenes and was avoiding writing that attack. I drew a floorplan of movement like it was a stage show being planned and everything, then I didn't even follow my plan exactly. I hope you liked it. Thanks to our guests last chapter; Hello237, Guest52, AnonymousAngel, Hazel, Madelina, Christie, B, Guests x2, Polyglot, and shortblondeone. Thanks to all my reviewers! I love you all!
Also I have an assignment due soon and with my wrist and lack of attention span I REALLY want to focus on it and try to get it done in time. I feel like I should be further than I am but I'm a quick worker. So! I'm going to take a week off. Next chapter will be this time next week. Sorry, and thanks for understanding! See you in seven days. After that we'll go back to normal.