Author's Note: I'm home! Oh man, I'm home! I had an awesome holiday but I am so happy to be home! And that means back to normal updates! After this one of course. I wrote this one after a long day at Tokyo Disney the other day and then on the plane yesterday... The first plane… After that seven hour long mess no way was I doing anything productive on the second plane. So… It's not the best. Anyway 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.

Her First Maternal Protective Instincts

The security had called ahead to say that Sherlock had, for once in the entire time Anthea had lived in Mycroft's (previously) very empty home, come through the gate. That was alarming enough on its own. Secondly, he appeared to be carrying a trash bag full of scrap material. The guard on the phone mentioned seeing velvet and microfiber spilling from the top. Whatever Sherlock had planned, the fact that he waltzed through the front door to do it was worrying enough on its own. Anthea thanked security and went to find her boyfriend to inform him what his brother was up to.

Anthea found him in his private study. On the floor stacked in a neat pile were an assortment of items. A rubbery toy some old friend of Anthea's (friend is a strong word…) had given her for Margot, A tablespoon from the kitchen (why?), and a scrunched-up ball paper were among the items. Mycroft looked at Anthea so innocently as he waited for her to explain her presence in his study. She had to take a minute to remind herself why she was here.

"Oh, I know." Mycroft nodded. He was not surprised at all by Sherlock using the gate or the items in his possession. "He sent me a message last night. We made plans." Mycroft sassed sarcastically at himself. Teasing that he and his brother had made plans for once and not just barging into each other's living rooms (and offices). So, if Mycroft knew and wasn't bothered… And he had a pile of strange items in his office…

Anthea clenched her jaw.

She counted to three to get her thoughts together and prepared for confronting a genius.

"Mycroft," She growled. "What are you two planning?" Mycroft blinked. He was surprised by this. Was this all innocent then? It was hard to trust the scheming of the Holmes brothers. Mycroft looked from the stuff to Anthea. A lightbulb flicked on above his head as he realised that normal people don't pick up as many clues from the environment as he did. He smiled and politely shook his head.

"Don't be alarmed, my dear." He tried to placate Anthea with his soothing voice. "We're conducting a few minor, very safe, experiments."

Experiments?

There was a baby in the house.

Anthea took a step forward.

"Myc," She began. She opened her mouth to speak more when yelling was heard from the entrance hall. Of course Sherlock just used his key instead of ringing the doorbell, or at least ringing first. That would have been the polite thing to do and Sherlock didn't work that way.

"I'm not going to search your whole stupid house for where you are." The voice came. Mycroft smiled at Anthea again, his polite apology for leaving their conversation midway through. He walked out of the office and towards the sound of his brother.

"I use a limited amount of rooms in this house and few of them are suitable. You could have easily found me." Anthea heard Mycroft say as she followed him. As she saw Sherlock the genius shrugged.

"I just finished a case. I don't feel like working." He uttered.

"Now who's lazy?" Mycroft teased.

"You." Sherlock responded without missing a beat.

Mycroft glared at Sherlock. Two seconds passed before his lips twitched upwards to a pleasant expression and he gestured for Sherlock to follow him.

"Office." He said. Sherlock hummed in response. Sherlock walked into the office. Mycroft went somewhere else.

Anthea considered which one was best to follow. Sherlock could allow for questioning. Mycroft would be better scoping. Or she could use her training and not be so obvious. She turned around to go to the kitchen. She'd lose her notoriety by disappearing for a moment. She'd get a drink of water, get the now patented baby shield and then go see.

After her drink of water Anthea walked into Margot's room to rise her from her nap. After talking to the Holmes brothers it would be time for her tummy time activities. But when Anthea got to the room there was no Margot.

The intense flash of panic that filled Anthea body was almost instantly replaced with annoyance and anger. That's what the brothers were doing. They were running tests on Margot! On her little girl! They were treating the innocent infant like a lab rat! Anthea gritted her teeth and clenched her fists.

She should have known better but then again so should have Mycroft and Sherlock. All that material… Different textures to test her senses and their development. Tests, of course, not to play with her. Sherlock wanted to take more measurements and Mycroft would have agreed out of curiosity and pride.

Anthea turned on her heels. She headed to the home office at breakneck speed. She was going to protect her little girl from the Holmes pressure at all costs. At least today. At least while she was too young to understand.

Mycroft and Sherlock were both sitting on the floor cross legged. Margot was sitting up against the bottom of the couch. At least Mycroft had used cushions to prop her up safely in case she couldn't hold herself. A few of the objects and materials had been discarded off the one side. Among what must have been Sherlock's collection was a velvet dress. The brothers were making mental notes and comparing data they observed. The fact that Anthea didn't growl right now was pure will power to stay at least somewhat relaxed in front of what was probably not understood to be abnormal behaviour.

Anthea strut into the room.

"Stop it, you two." She said. She took Margot in her arms and cradled her close to her body. Anthea placed a comforting and protective hand on the back of the baby's head. Margot was just happy to see her mother, completely oblivious to it all. Sherlock rolled his eyes to the ceiling – looking extra dramatic.

"I told you we should have done it at Baker Street." He uttered. Mycroft ignored him.

"Alice, we're in no way harming Margot." He offered gently. Anthea's thumb stroked Margot's baby hair as she subconsciously angled her body away from the pair of geniuses.

"I don't care." She said. "No experiments on the baby." Anthea was adamant and Mycroft knew it. Defeated, he turned to Sherlock as if to say 'you heard her'.

"We're only logging her reaction to texture." Sherlock, stubborn as always, pushed.

"She's only a baby." Anthea said, eye's narrowed on the detective.

"It's not hurting her." He continued.

"Sherlock, a mother's consent is important." Mycroft said. He sounded more like a scientist on an ethics board than Margot's father.

"Like we'd ever hurt Margot." Sherlock rebutted, looking at Mycroft but waving in Anthea's direction. "I didn't do this to Rosie. She should feel honoured."

"You didn't do it because Mary would have killed you and you know it." Anthea barked, gaining Sherlock's gaze once more. "And sure, she'll be fine physically, but mentally?" Anthea squeezed Margot. The little girl giggled. "I don't want her to end up like you guys." Anthea realised how harsh that sounded but she had to say it. It was the truth. She saw recognition flash in Sherlock's eyes and Mycroft looked down at his hands. "I don't want her to feel bad because she's not the smartest, or not the most physically fit, or feel bad because she feels emotions like I do or even like Mycroft does. Margot is not Rosie, or Hope. She's not you guys, either. She'll do things when she's ready. Don't compare her."

A pause.

Mycroft looked at the cushions where he had Margot propped up. Sherlock picked at his fingernails.

"You make a point." Sherlock sneered but relented.

"Good." Anthea said, far calmer now.

Mycroft reached over to the pile of cushions and picked up Patches where he had been discarded. Slowly, and verbally complain as he did, Mycroft stood up. Like an olive branch, he held out Patches to Anthea. She nodded to the baby now looking at him. It was hers, not her mother's. Just like it was her safety. Mycroft changed the target. Margot saw the bear and made a happy little chirp like noise. She took the bear by the hand and tugged it away from Mycroft – pleased to see her faithful companion.

"Is a growth chart still acceptable?" Mycroft asked sheepishly. Sherlock was looking at her with weary optimism. Suddenly she felt bad. She knew she had previously allowed this experimenting type of thing to happen but never with foreign objects that her daughter might stick in her mouth or eye. Maybe she was also just becoming better at this mothering thing. Still, the Holmes boys…

Anthea sighed.

"We do need a log for the baby book… and she was early." It was Anthea's turn to relent and compromise. Mycroft offered an appreciative smile. Sherlock brightened a bit.

"And she has to let us do the rouge test when the time comes." He said to Mycroft. Then he looked at Anthea again. "Even John let me do that. It's quite amusing." Was that supposed to convince Anthea? She quirked an eyebrow for a nice bemused look.

"It's a self-awareness test." Mycroft felt the need to explain to Anthea. It was the same bored tone he used whenever explaining information but his face was kinder. "You put a mark on the child's face and place them in front of a mirror. If they wipe it off they have realised that the mirror is their reflection."

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard of it." Anthea nodded profusely. She sounded a little annoyed again, a reaction from being treated a little like a gold fish. "The dot on the forehead thing. I've seen videos." Mycroft bowed his head apologetically but his lips were turned up. He was pleased she knew some little developmental psychology test as if it meant she was any better than anyone else. Holmsian testing. That's what it felt like. They really couldn't help it.

"If you're going to compare the kids to each other or to you guys, then no." She warned.

"No!" Sherlock said.

"No, no." Mycroft said at the same time.

"It's just… Sort of fun." Sherlock said. He squinted as he tried to explain himself in a way Anthea might accept. Anthea's heart might have softened a little further.

"Consider it a way in which we know how to bond." Mycroft teased, steely eyes sparkling.

"With each other and with my niece." Sherlock added. His eyes were bright, too.

Anthea softened. She put Margot on the couch and used her now free hand to rub her eyes. She thought she might have been too hard on the brothers before and now she felt like she had definitely been. She had felt her first mother bear surge of protection. She had done a Violet, basically.

"Sorry." She exhaled heavily. Anthea hand lowered from her face to rub at her shoulder. "Sure, you can do that one, too." She closed her eyes and scrunched up her face. "In fact, you can do your things, but run them by me first!" She opened her eyes and looked at them poignantly. "And only when I'm around." Mycroft smiled down at his feet, arms folded across his chest.

"Wow." Sherlock's eyebrows were raised high. "That was a fast turnaround."

"Don't press your luck, brother mine." Mycroft looked at his brother, one eyebrow quirked. "Agree and be done with it."

"You both already sound like parents." Sherlock breathed. He shrugged. "Then again, Mycroft has sounded like a strict mother since it went from three of us to two of us." Mycroft rolled his eyes. "All experiments will be approved by the ethics board known as Margot's mother."

"Better?" Mycroft asked Anthea.

"Yes." Anthea rolled her eyes, at herself mostly but also at the brothers. "Sorry." That was just for Mycroft – not the other one still sitting on the floor. "I…" She couldn't find a way to put these protective feelings into words and trailed off with a lost expression and a strange shrug.

"You were in the right." Mycroft argued gently. Sherlock scoffed.

"How are you two still so disgustingly in love?" He scowled. "It's like when John and one of his flings before Mary would argue over who would hang up the phone first. It's ridiculous." Mycroft clicked his tongue.

"If you tried growing up, brother dear, perhaps you'd understand." The British government retorted to his little brother. Anthea sat herself down on the couch next to Margot.

"They're both ridiculous." She said to her daughter. Margot looked up at Anthea's face and made a baby noise. Anthea stroked her hair.

Author's Note: So I hope that was okay. I was in some very tired places when I wrote this and I'm not entire sure, now with the jetlag, that it's sufficient. I don't think its bad but I don't know if it's good… If that makes sense? Only guest to thank from last week was GUEST 13. So thanks! And thanks to the handful of people who reviewed. It was very nice to get after trying so hard to update in the middle of nowhere. Please tell me if it's all okay. I shall see you all in five days!