Author's Note: Hi guys! Thanks for the great reviews last chapter. I love seeing all the different reactions to Tim and the reactions to the ending made me smile. I was absolutely sure I'd be late because I thought the assignment would kill me but I'm actually getting through it quite quickly. I had today off working on it so managed to finish this. So 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 Margot Kept Them Up All Night

To say that Margot was fussy that night would be a vast understatement. Anthea should have seen it coming really. The last few days had been lovely; it was the calm before the storm. The nice period to trick you into thinking you're a fantastic mother with a baby with a perfect temperament before the ultimate meltdown.

The worst part was Mycroft had gone back to work this week and it was the moment he got home. As if sensing the annoyance at the office he brought into the house or knowing that he'd need to get some sleep in a few hours his daughter just broke into a fussy mood that never went away. Any time the genius could have spent unwinding with his girlfriend (though he hated the term) and maybe bond with his child went out the window.

Mycroft was in a mood too. It could partially be about the constant crying, sure, or it could be that he was back at work. An environment he usually loved but right now just couldn't drum up the motivation to be pleased about being mentally challenged again. Maybe it was both, maybe it was coming home from crying adults to a crying baby. Anthea couldn't blame him if that was the fact but she could be a little annoyed at his sour disposition. She could also be understanding but a little resentful when he went off to bed while she was decoding the current fuss.

It was attention. Margot wanted attention – or her mother, Anthea wasn't exactly sure how much newborns knew at this moment in time. She either wanted attention or to feel that presence of her carrier close by. The moment Anthea got her to quiet or to giggle – do anything happy – she'd try to put her down in her cot. Anthea was tired so surely Margot must be exhausted. As soon as Anthea was halfway to the door the baby began crying again. It dawned on Anthea that she might have to devote a whole chunk of time to just sitting in that rocking chair with a baby in her lap.

It worked. By 11.30pm Margot had been asleep for a solid fifteen minutes and Anthea transferred her to her crib without a single complaint. Suddenly Anthea felt successful again, albeit a very tired success. She took this blissful moment to finally have her evening shower and wash her hair. She should have done that during the day but silly her thought the baby was being predictable and there would be time to do that in the evening. Nope.

12.00am and Anthea, in what she called pyjamas, rested her head on her pillow. The scent of the sheets and the warmth radiating off of Mycroft aside her was so blissful and comforting that she immediately drifted off to sleep.

Crying filled the room. The annoying tinny crying that came through the blasted baby monitor. Anthea made a strangled cry. Her hand grabbed blindly for her phone on her bedside table. Finding it she clicked on it to check the time.

12.10am.

Anthea buried her head into the pillow and groaned.

"I'll get it." A velvety, if not slightly crackled from sleep, voice besides her spoke. The weight besides her shifted on the bed and left. Any resentment Anthea felt for Mycroft going to bed was replaced with gratitude. She rested her head back down and tried to get back to sleep.

Ten whole minutes. Ten long excruciating minutes of tinny crying filled the room and kept Anthea from going to sleep while Mycroft tried to work out what Margot wanted. If it was attention again and he didn't go in with the pre-earned knowledge that Anthea had then she probably have gone to sleep quicker had she gone in herself. Luckily once the crying stopped Anthea went immediately to sleep.

She was going to blame heightened mother senses for the fact that as soon as Mycroft sat back on the bed she woke up again. She picked up her phone and with one eye closed to focus looked at the time again.

12.40 am.

So accounting for those ten minutes of crying Mycroft then spent twenty with Margot.

"She wanted attention?" Anthea murmured half into her pillow.

"Mmhhmm." Mycroft replied in an affirmative hum. Of course she did. That's what she wanted today… yesterday and today… whatever logic applied to crossing from pm to am when you were sleep deprived.

What did Mycroft do with Margot? Did he talk to her again? Anthea had a hard time picturing him cooing and rocking her back to sleep like she did. Maybe he read something to her. Funny how she still had this difficulty picturing him interacting with a baby when she'd seen it enough by now. Maybe it was just that he was Mycroft Holmes – the Ice Man, or maybe it was this end of the month thing looming ever closer and Anthea preparing herself for what could happen. Whatever he did it worked.

1.15am and it started again.

"Oh, what the hell!?" Anthea hadn't meant to say it out loud but she did. To the roof, loud enough for Mycroft to be woken up if he hadn't already been by the tinny crying. What did she sound like to him? A bad mother? An impatient mother? Or just a tired one? It didn't really matter when she was the one committed to Margot forever and he hasn't said yet, but somehow it did matter to her. So she let the feeling of guilt wash over her and convince her to push the duvet off her body and place her feet on the ground.

"No." Mycroft sounded like he was forcing himself to wake up. See? It was even as if there was part of Margot that was sensing that her father was sleeping for once and decided to ruin it. Maybe she'd gotten the evil genes after all… Anthea thought it was a funny thought then immediately felt bad about it. Mycroft sat up. "I'll go again." He said.

"But you have work in the morning." Anthea muttered, glancing over at him.

"And you have this." He said. Anthea weighed the two next to each other.

"Yeah okay, you go this time." She sighed, flopping back on the bed.

"I'm losing patience at work anyway, no sleep won't change that." Mycroft said it to Anthea as he walked past but she got the direct impression that he was talking to himself. There was that thing about work again… If Anthea wasn't exhausted she might be concerned.

Anthea didn't open her eyes when Mycroft returned to the bedroom so she had no concept of how quickly or slowly time had passed. She was hoping if she kept her eyes closed she'd return to sleep faster. What she did notice was long arms slink around her body and Mycroft burying his nose into her neck.

2.45am and there was the crying.

One hour of sleep was a mockery of what sleep could be. It was like giving you a taste of something blissful then slapping you in the face before taking it away. It did nothing but made you feel worse.

Mycroft leaned away from Anthea. He turned on his beside lamp and sat up leaning against the headboard. Anthea stared up at the ceiling as she reeled at the metaphorical slap in the face. Mycroft's eyes drifted from staring into nothingness to looking down at Anthea.

"Do you want me to go?" He asked. He didn't sound like he at all wanted to but bless him for asking. Finding the ability to talk again, Anthea shook her head.

"It's been ages since she ate. She's probably hungry." Anthea lolled her head so her vision shifted from the roof to Mycroft. "You can't do that." She said.

"We have bottles." He said as if she already knew. Anthea waved her hand at him. Then she forced herself to sit up. She took a moment to stretch out her back, hoping that would help her recover some more from the slap.

"I'd rather save them for if I'm not home or if you catch it before I wake up." She said. This night was a lost cause anyway, there was no need to waste precious resources like the bottles. Anthea hated that machine and would rather avoid using it again. Mind you Mycroft was not opposed to formula but this was just something Anthea wanted to do for a little while to feel to herself that she was doing everything to help her preemie grow healthy.

"Sensible logic, I suppose." Mycroft hummed, allowing Anthea to be the one to check on the unpleasable child now. He might as well have said nothing for as well as Anthea's brain was functioning. It didn't even register his words until she was at the door.

"Survival techniques." She teased. Mycroft appeared briefly confused before he realised that she was replying to him late.

When Anthea returned to the bedroom Mycroft was still sitting up with his bedside lamp on. His hands were folded together on his lap and he looked lost in thought. Anthea wondered if this is what he looked like all those nights where he woke up in the middle of it and couldn't get back to sleep for at least an hour.

When he finally looked Anthea's way she smiled and nodded. Yes, Margot was hungry, she was saying silently. Yes, she did settle right afterwards. She also needed a change but that was okay because two jobs at once was better than her crying two separate times. As Anthea walked into the room Mycroft took a breath.

"I've been thinking…" He began. Anthea immediately deflated. She fell onto the bed with another groan.

"I'm not alive enough to deal with the Holmes version of 'I've been thinking' right now." She said. Really she wasn't prepared to deal with anyone's 'I've been thinking'. She doubted she could have a decent conversation about anything. She just wanted sleep. Was that so much to ask. Mycroft pursed his lips and shook his head.

"No, no." He said. "This will be quick." Anthea didn't feel very assured. And yet after a few blinks she nodded for him to go on. "I don't need to be at the office every day. Why don't I spend three days at the office and spend the other two working from home?" Anthea felt a little guilty and that little bit of bitterness about the whole month thing. She pressed her lips together.

"Don't do this to help me." She said.

"I'm not." Mycroft said before Anthea finished.

"Your work keeps you sain." She finished despite the interruption. Mycroft's brow furrowed.

"It does indeed but I don't need to be there to do it." He said with some force. "Particular in this day and age with smartphones more powerful than some computers. I don't need to be anywhere." He opened his hands up on his lap so his palms faced the sky. "The only reason I spend so much time in the office is because I designed it that way. This role did not exist before me. There is an office for it because of me. In the early years of my career I had learnt that my sister I thought was dead was not, and my brother who had repressed memories was spiralling downwards. I was at the office because I wanted to be there." A powerful silence fell. It felt like Mycroft had more to say but wasn't pressing on, he was hesitant. So Anthea, as the good assistant, encouraged him.

"And you don't want to be there now?" She asked. He did not answer, not right away, and when he did it wasn't exactly an answer.

"My life has changed since I was twenty years old. Obviously, but more than I intended or expected." He said, looking at his hands. Anthea waited out the silence. She was suddenly feeling a lot more awake and knew better than to speak when it felt like more was to come. "After all if I needed to be there all the time I wouldn't have the Diogenes club office to work on freelance consultations." He looked at Anthea. Anthea pulled her lips into a tight, sad but polite smile. She tucked some bed hair behind her ear and nodded.

"So what do you want to do?" She asked. After all, it was his choice. She was the assistant and she wasn't even working right now. In the end it didn't really concern her, not directly anyway. Mycroft deduced Anthea, or investigated her, looking over her features. Content with what he found he continued.

"Three days at the office and two days at home, as I said." He used his hands as the two locations, gesturing as he spoke. "Of course if there are any imperative meetings on a day I am home then I will attend, and if someone wishes to meet me at the club they are welcome to. Similarly if I finish early on a day at the office I will come home when I please. When you return to maternity leave it'll also leave you with a far more flexible schedule." He seemed pretty satisfied with this and Anthea trusted him. She just didn't get why all of a sudden he didn't like going to work as much. It had been building for a long time but since Margot it just exploded.

"You think it can work?" Anthea asked.

"No doubt." He replied with that lovely confidence of his. Anthea licked her lips, pouted, and nodded.

"Okay." She said. "One of these days we're going to have to talk about what's going on with you and work." She said, pointing at him. Mycroft tried to hide a scowl. "But now's not the time. Now is for sleep." Mycroft took her hand and kissed her fingers right below the knuckles.

Mycroft was just leaning over to turn off the bedside lamp when the crying began again. His face fell and Anthea rolled her eyes so hard they should have fallen out of her head.

"I think we should call tonight a lost cause." Mycroft said as he watched Anthea rubbed her tired eyes.

"Or…" Anthea stretched out her legs. "Or we could try that thing where we let her cry out." She was feeling desperate. Mycroft looked at her critically and carefully.

"You want to start that at less than a month old?" He questioned, watching for any change in her expression or posture.

"No!" Anthea pouted. "I'm just desperate." She said.

"I doubt you'll ever be able to do it with your attitude as a mother and your societal programming to assist people you care for. You just needed reminding." How was he this functional at this time with this little sleep and a loud crying child? Wasn't he the grumpy one? Wasn't he the one prone to migraines and mood swings? It wasn't fair. Anthea barely processed his words as she focused on that crying and how she was going to get some sleep.

"Do you think if I bring her in here for a bit she'll get over it? Like if I smother her in attention she'll get enough?" Anthea asked, clinging to a new idea and a new hope. Mycroft's eyebrow danced up and down.

"Possibly." He hummed. He considered it longer, leaning his head to one side. "You get Margot, I'll get a deck of playing cards." Anthea's brow furrowed.

"What?" She said. Mycroft gave her that 'are you stupid?' look that only the Holmes siblings had perfected. The kind where they looked completely confounded by the fact that people didn't follow their half spoken thought.

"We need something to do to keep us awake while there is a small baby on our bed. Go Fish or Blackjack would do nicely." Ah, mental stimulation. Yeah, no wonder she didn't catch up she wasn't even awake enough for the mental part. Anthea waved her hand.

"Sure." She said.

They sat on the bed with Margot, playing with her, talking, and playing games, with only the two bedside lamps on for illumination. It was actually a lot of fun. It was nice, real nice. If it wasn't for her desperate need of sleep Anthea might even call it wonderful.

Anthea tickled Margot, made all the funny voices and faces that Mycroft would never dream of (before this she wouldn't have either but that's a bit different), and she made Patches dance around on the bed. Mycroft for the most part just observed Margot and took her in but whenever he and Anthea were talking and things would come up that he was certain Margot would have an opinion on he did that thing again where he spoke to her like she could understand him. He even laughed once. He was talking about his brother's disruptive behaviour, because Sherlock always came up and the pair were working through some issues, and he turned to Margot and said.

"You wouldn't know anything about being disruptive now, would you?" And she turned to him with these big innocent blue eyes as if on purpose and not just turning to the familiar voice and it made him chuckle.

They didn't dare trust Margot once she had fallen asleep between Anthea's knees. No, this was a child of skilled deception and wants that she took as needs. They would not fall for that again. They stayed up an extra half an hour with her in the room with them to make sure she got all the happy warm safe feelings she needed. Also Anthea was getting mad at Mycroft counting cards in Blackjack and they got into a small light hearted argument about how he couldn't actually not count cards because he was too smart and Anthea was calling that ludicrous. They ended up playing Snap instead.

That half an hour turned into an hour out of losing track of time, and Margot was still asleep. She looked blissful and at peace. Anthea was jealous but at the same time she had that overwhelming feeling of love for Margot that had existed from the day she saw her. How can something be this perfect and trouble at the same time? Regardless, it was time for her to go to her own bed – or crib in this case.

Anthea tucked Margot in with Mycroft standing at the doorway watching. She kissed her on the head and wished her peaceful dreams. With her set, Anthea and Mycroft could go back to bed.

Anthea checked the time again before laying down. 4.37am, yikes. She pulled a bit of a face as she felt Mycroft sit down on the bed. Anthea looked over to Mycroft as he lay down, looking relieved to be doing so.

"You have to get up in three hours." Anthea said. Mycroft made a noise in his throat. She lay down so that her arm and head rested on his chest. If she listened closely she could hear his heartbeat. The best part was Mycroft was too tired to flinch or freeze at the unannounced attention.

"I don't have a meeting until twelve, I'll go in then." He said. His voice reverberating in his chest masked the sound of his heart. Anthea hummed in agreement, liking the idea of him staying in bed with her longer even if Margot would wake them up before then. "Or not at all." He added.

"Mycroft." Anthea kicked his leg, always his assistant.

"Fine, twelve." He said. Anthea laughed. She would have replied with something witty but she was already drifting off to sleep.

Author's Note: So? How was it? I was surprised at how long it ended up being considering I was initially concerned about the length. Let me know your thoughts and feelings. Thanks to last chapter's guest reviewers; Observant Potato, Guests x2, and B. Thanks to all my readers and reviewers! You are all awesome! I WILL be taking a week this time to update because I want to have the assignment submitted beforehand and I still want time to write a chapter well, considering the next one SHOULD be the next plot one. See you guys in a week!