Author's Note: Look at me, back to being on schedule again… Thanks guys for your lovely feedback last chapter. It was fun to have so many canon characters in a chapter. As for this chapter… I don't think I need to explain much given the title. This bit ended up longer, I didn't expect it to fill a chapter but here we are with over 3000 words. So please, read, review, but mostly; 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 She Learnt What Sherrinford Is

Anthea and James did not get to business as soon as they got to Speedy's, they were too close to do something like that. James bought them tea and some pastry's to share while Anthea picked a table inside. Then they spent at least twenty minutes playing and gushing over Hope while picking at food and talking. The little thing would be missing her Mummy soon and Anthea was a good substitute for familiar feminine energy.

Jamie had been called by a photographer and requested personally to be the head makeup artist and work with a costume director for a photoshoot. James could see how excited Jamie was about the concept of the shoot and rather than Jamie running her business relationships James decided to take a few days off and look after Hope for her. To him it seemed only fair given his missions. Jamie still said she owed him something for this.

"No strong black coffee for you today?" James asked, looking at Anthea's cup of tea mixed with cream. Anthea crinkled her nose as she played with Hope's tiny hand.

"It's been too bitter for me lately." She said. She gave Hope's hand a kiss the way Mycroft kiss her hand. Then, leaving the baby alone, she leaned back in her seat and folded one leg over the other. "Like any blend of coffee. It's all really bitter." James sniffed. Slowly his face broke into a big goofy grin.

"The sugar addict you live with has corrupted you." He said. Anthea scoffed.

"What's the point of coffee if it doesn't taste like coffee?" She muttered jokingly. It's why she'd just gone for tea. James flicked a sugar packet at her and it hit her right between the eyes. Anthea flinched, blinked, and then glared. The agent just smirked. "What was that for?" She asked.

"To get you on topic." James said with the least amount of seriousness she'd ever heard someone use when trying to get to the point. "You wanted me for my skills?" He practically glittered when he said that. Anthea rolled her eyes.

"No, you're just the easiest agent to get hold of." Anthea teased him. She opened her briefcase and pulled out some papers, placing them on the table in front of herself in preparation. James' big brown eyes watched her. "So you know Emily from Jamie's work?" Anthea began. James nodded.

"The apprentice who's about the same age as you guys, yeah." He was at least somewhat serious now.

"She's been setting off my radar like crazy." Anthea said. James nodded again. Anthea quirked an eyebrow.

"Jay told me." He explained. Of course she did.

"Anyway," Anthea tucked a curl behind her ear. "I got some contacts at Scotland Yard to do some digging. The name she gave me doesn't exist, and the name she gave the salon belongs to a missing person's case." James rose his eyebrows silently as Anthea explained. "A little girl whose last name meant secret." James bit his bottom lip and winced.

"Sounds like a big game, doesn't it?" He muttered. His focus was razor sharp. Anthea sniffed and nodded.

"So I texted her about it, and look what she says back." Anthea passed over one of the pieces of paper. It was a printout of their latest text exchange. James read it carefully. Anthea pointed to a section with her painted black nail. "What do you think of that?"

"Wonderland?" James asked. His big shoulders shrugged. "I mean… It could be entirely coincidental but yeah, sounds like she's letting you know that she knows who you are." He looked up from the paper to meet Anthea's eyes. "It's cause for concern." Agent James' words, not normal James' words. He ran a hand through his blonde hair and huffed out a breath.

"You can help?" Anthea asked.

"Track her down?" James folded his hands across his chest and once again raised his eyebrows. Anthea nodded. The agent exhaled and then nodded. "Think I might have to." He said. "Anything else she's said or done that gives us more reason?" Anthea passed over the rest of the documents that were their text exchanges.

"You've met her." Anthea said. "Don't you think she's weird?" James frowned.

"No I haven't." He said in a low tone.

"Yes, you have." Anthea said. "Before you'd even met Jamie, and probably me." James laughed.

"Nah, not by Emily, anyway. The only Em I know is my sister." James said. He stopped for a moment and thought. Then he shook his head. "And most of the girls I've met through my life have been through work or school and I think I'd remember someone like that. I remembered Mary's face."

"No." Anthea kept shaking her head. Her stomach was beginning to feel tight. "No. She said she knows you, and she wouldn't make that up to taunt me. That's not her game." Anthea flicked through the documents until she got to the text and gave it to James. "See? She says she's met you." James read the message.

Then he read it again.

The colour drained from his face and he read it again.

"Wait." He muttered. He read the whole page. He picked up all the pages and began reading through them.

"Shit." He hissed under his breath.

Then he read through them all again.

Anthea's stomach turned. She took a sip of tea to try and settle her nerves, then took a deep breath.

"What?" Anthea asked. "What is it?"

"There are three people I know who talk like this and two of them couldn't pretend to be a woman no matter how good the disguise." He picked up a page and read it again.

"Who is it?" Anthea prompted. James placed the paper down. He covered his mouth with his hand and rub his jaw. "What?" Anthea asked louder.

"A." James leaned back in his chair. He placed his palm down on the paper. "This woman, what does she look like?" He asked. "And I don't want vague details. I'm talking as specific as you can get. Hues of colours, height down to the millimetre." Anthea rose an eyebrow at him. "No, A." He leaned forward. "This is like super important, okay. I'm talking huge breach of security important. I need you to be Anthea for me here and give me everything you've got."

Sensing James' seriousness and urgency Anthea did just as he asked. She did her best to recall and recount everything about Emily. From as simple as tall and slender, to as complicated as her steely eyes and the strange way in which she held herself. James held his expression behind the mask of his agent persona but Anthea could sense his mood darkening with every passing word. When she was done the head agent was rubbing his brow, his large shoulders full of tension.

"There's a chance, I mean there's always a chance I'm completely wrong about this…" He was mumbling more to himself than to Anthea. He let go of his forehead and looked down at his daughter. "But what if I'm not?" He smiled sombrely at his little daughter. Anthea watched quietly as he turned back to face her. "For your safety I think I'm going to have to tell you who I think this is." He resolved himself. Anthea leaned forward.

"So you do know who her." She said slyly. James had no cute or funny response for her. He just looked at her like he was about the throw her into the hands of the enemy. "James." Anthea called him from his stare. She smiled at him, prompting him.

"Well, maybe." He rubbed at his neck. "But to tell you I have to tell you what Sherrinford is." Anthea's stomach lurched. The word alone had become that forbidden to her. She licked her lips and swallowed air.

"Go on." She nodded. James' brown eyes searched the room. He did a full scan of the place as quickly as possible. Then he leaned in.

"This place is on a need to know basis." He spoke in hushed tones. "You find out if someone else who knows deems you worthy or needs you to know. We don't do this for the sake of keeping a secret, we do this for the sake of keeping everyone safe from it. If people knew it existed… I don't know. All sorts of bad things could happen." It was as if the whole room darkened. "Sherrinford is the highest possible security prison. I'm not talking Moriarty types, I'm talking Hannibal Lecter types… Though we probably would have sent Moriarty there."

"A prison?" Anthea asked. James hushed her.

"The worst of the worst are there. People who should, God forgive me, be killed on the spot. But lots of them are kept alive for…" He frowned as he tried to think of the word. "Ammunition and assistance." Anthea blinked.

"Assistance?" She hissed.

"Like I said, 'Quid pro quo, Clarice'." James whispered. Anthea nodded. She took a moment to digest the information. Alright. A high priority prison. It made some sense.

"I get that it's on a need to know basis but why couldn't I know?" She asked. "I'm supposed to know everything Mycroft knows." James shrugged his large shoulders.

"Not my call." He said. "But probably because people aren't allowed to know who's there and given your relationship with Mycroft and Sherlock you probably count as one of those people." Anthea leaned back in her chair. She felt a chill run down her spine. She stared straight through James into his soul.

"Who is in Sherrinford, James?" She asked flatly. "Who is Emily?" James looked around the room again. He sighed.

"Eurus Holmes."

Anthea's stomach twisted around itself and pulled tightly in a knot, sending a shiver through every nerve in her body. She shook as she felt the bile rising in her throat. She barely had time as she got out of her seat to ask James to excuse her. She ran to the bathroom and pushed her way into a stall just in time to heave the contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl. When she was finished Anthea had her elbows resting against the toilet seat with her forehead against the palms of her hand. She rubbed at her forehead and waited meekly to see if she'd need to throw up again.

She hated throwing up. Nothing was quite as disgusting and nothing made her fell less in control of her body. She hadn't expected to react this way. Anthea was sure she had a much stronger stomach than this. All this was new and surprising information, of course, but she'd heard far worse. If you don't throw up when your parents die then you shouldn't throw up at the news of a prison and that one of your boyfriend's relatives being there… and possibly out and about. But that was nothing. She didn't even know what kind of relative this was. Which is why Anthea should be getting back to James.

Anthea carefully got to her feet and flushed the toilet. She went to the sink and turned it on. She washed her hands up to her elbows. She rinsed out her mouth three times, then splashed her face with water. Anthea moaned as she dried her face with the paper towel. She felt disgusting. She wished she could brush her teeth but she'd settle for ordering some kind of minty drink or food. Was it really the news that made her throw up? Maybe it was the food, or the food in combination with the news. It didn't matter. She needed to find out more about Sherrinford and Emily… This Eurus.

James looked concerned when Anthea returned to the table. She forced the scowl off her face and dismissed his concern with a shake of her head. She sat down in her seat and sighed.

"I'm fine." Anthea further dismissed the agent.

"You sure?" He cocked his head to the side.

"Yeah." Anthea tucked a curl behind her ear. She scooted forward, bringing her chair with her. "Tell me more about this whole thing." She said. "Who's Eurus? She looks too young to be an Aunt unless she was a really late kid for Siger's parents." Anthea was entirely serious. "A cousin? Or a second cousin?" James opened his mouth to speak but Anthea kept thinking out loud. "Rudy's kid? But that wouldn't be a Holmes, would it?"

"Yeah, Rudy isn't a Holmes." Just as James began speaking Anthea's phone vibrated on the table, moving clockwise with every buzz. James fell quiet as they both looked at the rudely interrupting phone.

Sherlock Holmes.

Perfect timing as always. Anthea showed the screen to James and pressed answer.

"Sherlock, what is it?" Was how she answered the phone to the detective. Why waste time with pleasantries when the other person had no time for them in the first place?

"We need to ensure Mycroft is home tonight and that you will not be there." He barked the order down the phone at her like he was her boss. By 'we' Anthea assumed he meant John and himself. Anthea gritted her jaw and shut her eyes.

"Why?" She sounded exasperated.

"John and I believe the only way to get the truth of my sister out of Mycroft is by scaring it out of him." Sister?

Sister.

Anthea pushed her lids even tighter closed. Lucky for her, her stomach held strong.

Of course it was a sister.

Look at her. Siger and Mycroft's eyes, Violet and Sherlock's smile, awkwardness, shocking levels of perception. She was another Holmes sibling of course she was.

"A bloody sister." Anthea hissed. She shook her head and glared daggers at James. He looked down sheepishly at the table.

"Yes, apparently I have a sister. Did you know I had a sister? I didn't know I had a sister." Anthea's agitation was met tenfold by Sherlock's. He had every right to be that on edge. What a shock. Why didn't he know? That was the question now. Why was she in prison and why didn't Sherlock know?

"No, I didn't." Anthea hummed. "Although James here was just about to fill me in on Eurus." Anthea rose her eyebrows sarcastically at James. He widened his eyes and shrugged.

"Eurus. Yes that was the name she told John when she shot him with a tranquiliser." Shot John? "But of course the lap dog knows. You don't know, I don't know, but the lap dog knows." He continued past the point.

"Wait, is John okay?" Anthea asked.

"He's fine. If she wanted him dead he'd be dead." Sherlock dismissed Anthea's concern. How reassuring… "But I need the truth from Mycroft. I need to know why I've never heard of this sister and why she is harassing my friend." Anthea hummed as she ran her free hand over the table. She kept the texts to herself, she didn't want to worry Sherlock or have him blab it to Mycroft. As much as Anthea might want to confront Mycroft, Sherlock was their family and he deserved his truth first. He also deserved some form of revenge.

"Yeah, he'll be home tonight. I'll find somewhere go for a few hours."

"Excellent. I'll text you when the coast is clear."

Click.

An abrupt ending. Always the way with Sherlock. Never one to stop or explain. Anthea took a deep breath. She carefully put her phone down in front of herself and continued to glare at James. The agent ignored the daggers.

"If you need somewhere to hang, you can come how with me and Hope. Tell Holmes I need baby help." He said nonchalantly.

"That would be nice, thank you." Anthea answered coolly.

A pause.

James shifted in his seat.

"Sister?" Anthea asked. James sighed again.

"Holmes says she's the youngest and like by miles the smartest." He offered up information. Anthea nodded slowly. Dangerously intelligent. It didn't explain anything really but it did help sooth her soul a little. It explained the woman's awkwardness with people and understanding them. Then again it rose more questions. If she were the eldest or middle child, then maybe Sherlock was never old enough to form memories of her. If she was the youngest, then she was around long enough for Sherlock to know her. Then, when you consider how protective Mycroft is over his baby brother, why was his little sister never mentioned? He did, according to James, make regular calls to Sherrinford, and he probably went there on his many trips and outings where Anthea stayed in the office. There were too many pieces missing to complete this puzzle.

"James?" Anthea hummed. The blonde raised his eyebrows. "Why doesn't Sherlock know he has a little sister?" James looked down. Once again he rubbed his mouth and jaw with his strong hand.

"I don't know what to tell you, A." He heaved. "All I know is she did something terrible. It's why she's there and it's why Sherlock has blocked her from his memory." Anthea grew darker. She believed James but she could sense that there was something off, something missing. Where were these missing pieces?

"Sherlock blocked her?" Anthea repeated. "And that's why the family doesn't talk about her?" Anthea asked. James nodded. She cocked her head to the side. "Even when Sherlock's not around? Violet and Siger never ask Mycroft how she's going in prison?" She was too suspicious.

"Anthea." James pleaded with a whine.

"The whole story isn't here." Anthea ignored the plea and continued prying.

"But that's all I got." He held his palms out towards the ceiling in an open expression. "Anything else will have to come from Holmes later."

Mycroft.

Anthea wasn't sure what to make of him right now. Part of her wanted to be angry at him for keeping this from everyone, but especially her. Part of her wanted to go home and rip him to pieces. But the rest of her? The rest of her knew Mycroft well enough to sense the Ice Man's 'this is for their own good' attitude all over this. Whatever he was doing he was, as he'd explained when she asked about Sheri ford, about protecting people. He was an idiot, a complete imbecile when it came to delicate emotion filled tasks, but he tried in his special way. He should have trusted her enough to tell her though. They'd been partners for years before they became more than that. They'd trusted each other for such a long time. This was just another demonstration of how he didn't trust her. Why would she need protection from Eurus? Why would she not get to go see her at Sherrinford but James could? What did that say?

Ugh. Whatever. Her stomach was empty and aching, and she was tired. She wouldn't even get to deal with this until she got home anyway. All she could do now was brush her teeth and let Sherlock deal with it.

"You're right." Anthea sighed. "Thanks for sharing what you know."

"I had to." James levelled, leaning down to catch Anthea's eye. "If she's out and about, if she's causing trouble, that's not good. Like…" He blew air through his lips. "I've met her in full Holmes mode and man, she can see right through your very soul and count your sins. She could break you in thirty seconds if you weren't tough." A lull as James and Anthea looked at each other with trepidation. "Like I think it'll take a lot more than Sherlock Holmes to stop her." Anthea licked her lips.

"Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes?" Anthea asked quietly.

"Maybe not even then." James shrugged, looking already defeated. "But I guess they caught Hannibal Lecter, even if they let him go."

"Didn't you know that's not how the books end?" Anthea frowned. James pouted at her. "In the end Hannibal brainwashes Clarice and they run off together." James grew silent. Anthea pushed her hair back. "I used to like the ending." Until now.

"I guess it's in Sherlock's hands right now?" James asked. Anthea looked at her phone. She hummed thoughtfully in agreeance with James' question. "Then we can't move right now anyway." The agent looked down at his daughter and smiled. The little ray of hope. He patted her on her head. "We can get you something for your stomach, and get this one to her nap. Maybe I can dig up my files on the prison for you to read." James said. Anthea ran her tongue over her teeth and scowled.

"Can we stop and buy a toothbrush?" She asked. James laughed from the gut. He tapped Hope on the nose then smiled at Anthea.

"We have a spare at home."

Author's Note: I really can't wait for the feedback on this one! I really want to know how you all reacted and your opinions on it! Next chapter will be after the haunted house thingy. Thanks to our guest reviewers last chapter: Christie, Madalina, B, and shortblondeone. But thank you to everyone. You're all so awesome. See you in five days.