Author's Note: I think the email problem has been fixed now so if you haven't seen an update in like 2 weeks make sure you're caught up. First; thank you for all the awesome feedback last chapter. I'm relieved you all seem hopeful for where this is going. Secondly; Look! A day earlier than I said. Why? Because even when I'm sick, have scary assignments, and this fic to do, I still manage to do this stuff quicker than I expect. Summary; I am bad at estimating time. As for the chapter itself… I've read over it a few times and while I couldn't get it JUST right, I am pleased enough that I'm not entirely nervous about posting it… Just a little nervous. 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 She Told Mycroft She Was Pregnant

Anthea drove from the doctor's appointment back to the office. She sat in the car in the parking garage for a whole half an hour unable to get out of her car. She was immobilised by an overwhelming sense of helplessness. Not hopelessness but helplessness. The difference here being she could see a positive in all possible scenarios but she didn't know what she wanted, how to go about it, or what on Earth to do with anything. She felt lost.

How was she supposed to do this? How was anyone supposed to do this? How was she supposed to go up to that government office that was very much a home away from home and announce that no matter what she and Mycroft's lives were going to change forever? No matter what something would change because of this.

And how would it change? What would they do?

Anthea buried her face into her hands, careful not to set off her horn as her hands rested against the steering wheel. She felt sick. She wanted to throw up but at the same time her stomach felt so empty it was gnawing on itself.

Was it normal to feel so afraid and lost with this type of information? This isn't what you saw when you looked at media. Most of the time it was good news. Even when it was bad news, it was good news. What was it here? Definitely bad news. Even if it turned out to be good news in the end it was bad news.

The problem here was that Anthea wasn't used to such helplessness. She always had a plan, it was her job. If she had a plan she might be able to do this. So she sat back in her chair, closed her eyes, and formulated a plan.

Okay.

Step one would be get out of the car and walk up to the office like normal.

Step two would be to make sure Mycroft was free from distraction and borrow him.

Step three would be to tell him where she was.

Step four would be deliver the news.

Step five would be… wait for his reaction.

Step six would be… discussion.

Hopefully step seven would involve some level of placating her nerves or making them both feel better.

Step eight would be something to settle her stomach. Food, she was guessing.

Alright. So it wasn't the most thorough or best laid plan, but it was a step by step plan that could get her to move. It could make Anthea feel less hopeless and like she could follow a line of action. Not every plan went directly as planned anyway, but the guideline is what got you started.

So onto step one.

Anthea undid her safety belt. She looked at herself in the rear-view mirror and fixed up her hair, and calmed her face. She opened her door, took hold of her handbag, and got out of the car. She shut the car door and locked it.

As much as I love this old car, it wouldn't be very safe for a kid.

Anthea's own thought surprised her. She stood, key in hand, staring at her old car. Was that even a thought that mattered right now? She always knew it wasn't safe for kids. Was the fact that she was considering it now indicative of the fact that she wanted this pregnancy? Or was it just that kids were on the mind? Anthea pushed the thought to the back of her head and turned on her heels, beginning to walk to the door that would lead to the offices.

The office was quiet, peaceful, and welcoming. No matter what happened in this place, good or bad, the aura of familiarity and control was always here and at a time like this it was appreciated. Anthea felt more like herself as she hung up her coat and placed her handbag down beside her desk. The government office. She'd much rather do it here than in the cold interior of the Diogenes Dungeon.

Anthea knocked on the door that lead to Mycroft's inner sanctum and did the usual – waited a few seconds for a reply – and entered.

Mycroft looked well together. His clothes were sharp, he was neat, and he was working with the same level of concentration as he normally would. Know where to look and you'd see all the cracks from the Sherrinford incident and the internal fighting of the family. A little tired around the eyes, mouth draw slightly down rather than neutral, posture not quite right. At least he didn't look a mess, he had been holding it together quite well given everything he was going through. It was time to add to that. Anthea stopped in front of Mycroft's desk and folded her hands together in front of her. She couldn't bring herself to sit down.

"How can I help you, my love?" Mycroft asked without looking up from his work for a second, clearly knowing they were alone. Reminding herself to go with the plan before she lost all nerve Anthea inhaled and exhaled a shaky breath.

"I just had an appointment." She started with where she was, just as planned. Mycroft hummed and nodded his head as he wrote something down.

"I deduced as much, yes." Anthea didn't even question him. It would be easy for the genius to work out her movements particularly on a work day where 99% of her behaviour revolved around his schedule.

"Well." Anthea crinkled her nose. How to do this? How to do this? "So I thought I was stressed over everything that happened…" Anthea trailed off. Her eyes fell down to her shoes. She lifted them as high as the lip of Mycroft's wooden desk. "But I'm not."

Anthea waited for any reply.

Mycroft continued working.

"Mycroft?" She prompted. The genius looked up, eyebrows raised. He appeared stirred from his thoughts. He had been distracting himself from his own issues with work – he'd hardly been listening. She should have known.

"Sorry?" He asked. Anthea clenched and unclenched her fists with nerves. Those piercing blue eyes on her, they were so distracting from the plan. They made her want to give up but that would not help.

"Myc, I'm not stressed." She breathed. "I'm –" The word caught in her throat. The genius' eyes had already fallen from her own gaze and were examining her. It was only a matter of seconds. She had to say it. "Pregnant." It hung in the room, so raw and real. It was like it echoed in Anthea's mind over and over again.

Mycroft's reaction seemed too slow to be a reaction to only Anthea's words. He must have worked it out the split second earlier and her words were the confirmation. His mouth pulled down, one eyebrow raised and one lowered in an expression of exhaustion, steel eyes lacking showing nothing but a distinct look of being done with everything. Eventually Mycroft groaned. Very similar to the way Anthea kept burying her face in her hands, Mycroft lowered his face, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Of course you are." He hissed quietly. "Of course you bloody are. Only fools trying to cling to some semblance of sanity wouldn't be able to see that." The hand that was not pinching the bridge of his nose dug its fingers into the wood of the desk. Anthea watched him, her own body frozen stiff. She didn't know what to do next. What happened next on the plan? How was this supposed to go?

"I…" She trailed off again. Anthea swallowed and licked her lips. That feeling of falling was beginning to return. "I'm sorry." She said, like she was the assistant in trouble for ruining that USB.

"What?" Mycroft looked up frowning. He scowled and waved her off with a flick of the wrist. "No, don't apologise. There were two parties involved in this." He looked back at his desk and began fiddling with the items on it – straightening papers, moving his cup of tea. "I knew you were on oral contraception but I also knew you were previously ill. While not all antibiotics effect the pill as it is called, your sleeping schedule was absolutely effected and you usually take that when you wake up in the morning. Naturally then, I should not been so whimsical and chosen such a shocking time to indulge in carnal desires." He was rambling. Or rather his brain was pushing to keep himself together, pushing out facts, placing all the pieces together at record speed. It should have made Anthea nervous for him but she was more focused on the lack of anger directed at her. That was good. That was very good. She was still falling and terrified, but she didn't have her partner in crime unfairly blaming her.

"We do have a knack for dramatic timing." Anthea laughed breathlessly, making a nervous joke. Mycroft's silver eyes lifted to meet hers but no amusement passed through them. It did pull him out of his thought vortex. The genius quirked his eyebrows, a silent thought to himself, as he folded his hands together on the desk in front of him. Both he and Anthea stared at his thumbs for a moment as they pressed against each other.

"This begs the question;" Mycroft looked up with all his walls of stone and ice covering his expression. "What do you intend to do?" Anthea felt the Antarctic chill run down her spine. How long since this room had felt this cold? Her posture straightened.

"Excuse me?" She cocked her head to the side, wondering if she just misheard him. "What do I want to do?" She asked. Mycroft nodded curtly. What was he asking? Was he asking her opinion? "Do you mean what do I think we should do?" She asked. Mycroft sniffed, looking down at his hands again. She didn't like these walls back in place – they made it almost impossible to see what he was thinking.

"Oh no, my love." He hummed as he looked up. "While I take full responsibility, this is not my choice to make." No expression to be read on his face. "I was never meant to have children. What you choose to do with your pregnancy is your own choice." Anthea felt herself completely loose footing of any grounding she had. She was falling faster than she had before. She couldn't find John or Sherlock's hand to hold onto.

"What?" Anthea choked.

"You heard me." Mycroft said. He adjusted his file again. "Understandably your decision will affect our future but given my love for you, I-"

"You just completely remove yourself from the decision because of a choice you made to yourself decades ago?" Anthea cut Mycroft off. Her brain was minutes behind his and she hadn't even really heard his previous words. The genius looked mildly offended by being cut off.

"That's right." He said.

"You also didn't want to be in a relationship but here I am." Anthea gestured to herself with a large shrug. "You had to make decisions about that. With me, too." Mycroft said nothing but continued to watch her. "Myc, I don't care what you have to say, just as long as it's something. This is our choice." Anthea absentmindedly placed a hand on her abdomen where her uterus would be.

"Given my track record with choices, dear, you shouldn't want me involved in such a choice." His lip lifted as he looked just passed Anthea at the door. "Certain people shouldn't be given a choice in something like this. The fiercely cold and manipulative, those who kill without remorse, and those who can't feel emotions the same way others can. Those who would not benefit society in the slightest with this kind of thing." He waved in Anthea's direction. Her hand pressed tighter against her abdomen. "As the Ice Man whose own family hates me I think it's safe to say I fall into all those categories, don't you think?" He leaned back in his chair as if he'd proven a point. "Anyone else I'd offer them financial support for whatever decision they made and wash my hands of the whole thing. You, however, I will do more for." It took Anthea a while to gather her thoughts. She looked at the cold genius in front of her hidden behind his walls, trying to see the real man there.

"Anyone else? You mean if I was one of your one night stands you'd pay me off?" She tried to comprehend it. The genius nodded. "You wouldn't care if someone kept a piece of you out there? Someone walking around with your blood?" Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"I don't view blood the way you do."

"Yeah, you do." Anthea nodded, stepping forward. "You can ignore it until its right in front of your face but then there's nothing you can do to stop yourself caring about family. Your family might not like you right now but you are the most loyal man I've ever met." His face stayed stony. Anthea placed both her hands against her abdomen. "And this. Yeah, okay, I don't know what to do, but what if I kept it? What if this became an amazing combination of you and me?" His eyes were on her hands. "What if it had our love of reading? What if it had your sense of humour with my laugh? What if you could see Sherlock in the way it liked to run around and play? Or even Eurus in a love for music? What if I kept it and every time you saw me I had a kid with me that had your mother's eyes? Could you be so distant then? Could it be not your problem then?" She had no idea if she was getting through to him. His defences were completely up and he was staring blankly at her hands while his real attention was somewhere in his brain – she could see it ticking away. Anthea could only hope the fact that he was thinking so deeply meant she had got to him. She needed him.

Mycroft moved. He rubbed his chin and took a deep breath in. Then he folded his hands together on the desk and leaned forward one last time.

"It's your pregnancy, dear." He spoke quietly and distantly. "It's entirely your decision." The room was still and silent.

"But it's our… baby." Anthea whispered. Mycroft's expression twitched but before it could display any change of emotion the masks were back and he was looking at his computer monitor. "Our relationship, and our future."

"My future was set in stone years ago." Mycroft muttered like dismissing just another employee. Anthea scoffed.

"By who? Rudy when burdened you with the truth of your sister? The government when they gave you a scholarship to work for them? Yourself when you became too afraid to do anything but be alone?" She sent the questions at him like daggers. His eyes narrowed on the screen.

"Them, and more." He responded like she had actually wanted an answer.

"So, what? It eliminates you from any other future?" Anthea continued to barrage him with questions, to try and pry him open. "Your fear removes you from living any future that isn't completely predictable? That wasn't foreseen when you calculated out your life? Because this is an outlier I have to make this decision all on my own? I have to decide if I want this baby and you don't even get to choose? It's you or the baby."

"Well." Mycroft rose a shoulder, half shrugging. He wasn't even going to attempt to look at her, his was focusing on the nothingness on his screen. Maybe it was a distraction to keep his walls up. "Your options are more complex and complicated than me or the baby. I would never fire you or wish you to leave your job. In addition-"

"Oh my god." Anthea laughed. Mycroft looked mildly irritated at being cut off once more but let Anthea continue. "You're really serious about this, aren't you?"

A beat.

"Yes."

That was it. Anthea felt sick. She couldn't argue with this stubborn man anymore. She was falling and afraid she wasn't going to land safely and he was doing nothing but pulling away. She looked up to the roof and took a deep breath. She needed help and she wasn't going to get it here.

"I need to go." She shook her head, chocolate curls dancing around her face as she brought it back down to eyelevel. "I mean I won't be able to get much work done today anyway and I really need to go" She rubbed her nose with her hands.

"Good idea." Mycroft nodded. He stood up and walked around to the front of the desk. "Go home, pick up some herbal tea, and relax. Perhaps by the time I get home-" Anthea cut him off with a single bark of a laugh.

"I'm not going home." She breathed. "Why? How are you going to help me?" Her eyes pierced his skull. "My flat is empty. I'm going to go to get some clothes then spend a night there. Maybe two."

"Oh, Anthea." Mycroft chided her. "Alone? Really? Not even to Jamie's house?" The thought sent a shiver down Anthea's spine. What would telling Jamie accomplish? Either the blonde would be insanely happy about the concept of having children around the same age despite Anthea unsure as to what she wanted to do, she curse out Mycroft for this behaviour, or be insanely supportive in anything Anthea chose to do and once again prove herself to be the only permanent fixture in Anthea's life. All those options seemed terrible right now. What Anthea needed was a partner to talk her through this and help her.

"And tell her what, Myc?" Anthea shrugged heavily at him. "Tell her that I have to make this decision on my own? I'm not telling her until I have something to tell her."

"Anthea."

"No." Anthea shook her head again. "No. I just need to breathe for a minute and I need a place to be safe."

She walked out before Mycroft could say anything else.

Anthea only took the essentials from home. She took some clothes, pyjamas, toothbrush, hairbrush, and any necessary toiletries and medication. She wasn't planning on being gone long, or at least she was hoping she wouldn't be gone long. A day or two she was thinking. She wanted to be home and her home was here with Mycroft but she needed to breathe and this place wasn't healthy for her. She needed to find some footing and work out what she was going to do if she was well and truly on her own here.

Oh Mycroft. Look at the mess his life was. His parents weren't talking to him, his brother had his hands full with their sister who wasn't talking to anyone but Sherlock, his work was a mess, and now he was telling his pregnant girlfriend to deal with it on his own. She felt horrible for leaving him in such a state but she couldn't help him, not now. Not when she needed help. Not when she needed him. She wouldn't care if he yelled, if he insisted on an abortion. She wouldn't care what reaction he had – any reaction was better than this no reaction leaving Anthea alone.

One night. Maybe one night in her flat and Anthea would find some level of sanity or understanding in herself. Then she'd come home here.

Anthea took her small bag of items and left to go to her flat and find that peace.

Well. She'd stop at the shops first. Gets some of that herbal tea a certain someone mentioned, maybe something light to eat… Then to her flat.

Author's Note: Oh man, oh man, oh man. I take it back. I'm sooo nervous. What did you think? How did it go? I can't wait for the feedback. The good news is I'm done with assignments for a few weeks now which means the next update should be in five days like normal. Thanks to our guest reviewers; Guests x2, Hazel, Tadaa, Madlina, B, Guesswho, and Drwholock. Thanks to all my readers and reviewers; you guys rock! Let me know what you think (please) and see you in five days!