Author's Note: I found myself writing fanfics to get out of my writer's block and then I found myself nostalgic for a wonderful time in the Sherlock fandom that I got to have my part in. I realised I'd never be satisfied if we didn't at least get this chapter done. So this is a love letter and a thank you. Thank you to everyone who has ever opened this fic, thank you to those names I still remember fondly for all those years of regular comments. I think of you all often. I still have all the fanart. More notes at the end. What is it I used to say? Read, review and enjoy.
P.S. Soundtrack for writing this time (as I do that now with my FF7 one shots) was Billie Eilish. Wish You Were Gay gives me early AFTFE vibes.
The First Time She Said Yes - My Thank you
It was not suspicious that Mycroft cleared their calendar halfway through the day, not suspicious at all. Anthea had been around for longer than she'd care to admit and the whims of Mycroft never caused a reason for suspicious. Sometimes something more important came up (Sherlock), sometime he just could not deal with normal people any longer and needed to be alone (the club or home). These days sometime he did it to prove a point – just how indispensable he was and what happened if he was uncontactable for only a few hours. Nothing about him coming out of his offer and telling Anthea to pack up because they were leaving was suspicious.
What was strange was they passed the club and Mycroft didn't get out and yet they were not heading in the direction of James and Jamie's house where Margot was currently being looked after. So, he was not going to the club but they were not going home? Or he wasn't dropping Anthea off before doing whatever it was he needed.
Phone in her hands, Anthea looked out the window of the town car. The surroundings were growing very familiar to her. As familiar as if she'd walked around here and drove around here without much thought for years and years. Anthea turned to look at Mycroft. The fool of a genius wasn't even paying attention. Umbrella handle in one hand, his phone in the other, he was reading something with his lips pressed together. Anthea's eyes narrowed as she regarded him. What business would he have in the neighbourhood of all places? And why would he not even anecdotally mention the neighbourhood to her? Mycroft didn't even look up from his phone or remove that terse expression from his face when he addressed Anthea.
"Are you going to continue to stare or are you going to speak your mind?" His voice hummed, soft as velvet. Anthea tilted her head slightly to the side.
"We're near my flat." She stated. Steel blue eyes looked up from the phone. Mycroft's eyebrows bounced up.
"You don't say." The sarcastic tone was matched with an equally venomous grin on his face. If it wasn't for the playful sparkle in his eyes that would be a dangerous expression. Anthea sniffed and turned back to looking out the window. She heard something close to a chuckled as Mycroft folded one leg over the other, locked his phone, and put it in his pocket. "Would you like to attempt a more worthwhile statement or question?" He asked, eyes watching her, taking her in. Anthea kept her gaze firmly out the window. The trees had grown.
"Not if you're going to be an asshole." She uttered with a pout. Now she was rewarded with a hum of amusement for that.
"Now, if that is your deciding factor on whether or not you speak to me, I'm afraid we may never talk again." He folded his hands together on top of his knee and looked out the window. "Now that will make it difficult to achieve anything in the office. Let alone how awkward it would be in the home." Anthea smirked. She looked over to him, he looked back. They held each other's gaze, dark on light, and he smirked back. Someone was playful today. Anthea rose her eyebrows.
"Why are we near my flat?" She asked breathily, smiling. Mycroft's smirk turned into something softer as he looked over Anthea's features. He spent time studying her lips, her nose, how her hair framed her face, and finally back onto her eyes.
"That's a better use of words." He spoke softly and fondly. Anthea crinkled her nose to stop from grinning like an idiot. Mycroft took a deep breath through his nose. "No reason." He breathed out, turning to look out his window again. Anthea blinked. "To get coffee, really." He finished. Anthea looked at the rearview mirror to try and give Walter a deadpan look. The old driver's eyes sparkled.
"Coffee?" Anthea asked.
"Yes." Mycroft replied to the window. Anthea sighed. She didn't believe Mycroft for even a second but she was in no mood to push. Why ruin a playful Mycroft Holmes by picking at him until he admitted what he was up to? She unlocked her phone and went back to texting Carol.
"Alright." Anthea sighed.
Sometimes you just had to go with the flow.
Walter let them out at a coffeeshop and drove off (to a safe distance, no doubt). It was a shop they used to stop at all the time when Anthea lived around here. Still open, still the same owners, but newly renovated. It didn't feel the way it had before, nowhere near as cosey or special, but at least the coffee was guaranteed to still be good.
Mycroft went up to the counter, boredly ordered their usuals to go. Once he had them, he handed Anthea's to her and gestured with a head nod for her to follow him.
"We're not staying?" Anthea asked as he held the door open for her to go through first, which she did. He frowned to himself.
"Did you hear the music in there?" He asked rhetorically. So, no. No obvious sign of Walter around they clearly weren't going home. Not to mentioned Mycroft wouldn't go out of his way to get coffee here when there were places he liked better closer to home and he could just send someone to get it.
So, what was the other option? What else did they used to do here when they got coffee if they didn't stay at the shop and get something to eat? Anthea looked up and down the street. She remembered people watching. She remembered sitting together on a bench and judging people.
"To the park, then?" She asked, tucking a curl behind her ear so the wind couldn't blow it in her face anymore. Mycroft bit on his bottom for a second to stop himself smiling at this habit of her.
"Now you're understanding the program." He praised her. Anthea elbowed him.
They didn't talk on the way to the park and that was actually wonderful. They walked side by side simply enjoying each other. Occasionally Mycroft would look her way and take her in like he was cataloguing her look today for something later. Even when she caught him and gave him a quizzical look he didn't stop. He just smiled subtly.
"I love you." Anthea had said with a wry smile at some point before the park.
"Do you?" Mycroft quirked an eyebrow. "That's nice." He spoke. Anthea sniffed.
"And you?" She teased. He pouted and shrugged.
"I suppose I'm quite fond of you, dear." He said. Anthea laughed. She stole his arm by wrapping her arm around it. He let her without even flinching or freezing.
At least the bench was still there – same old metal bench. At the park they sat there and did what they did best; drank coffee and Mycroft explained people's life stories while Anthea added colour commentary.
There was something magical about doing this. It made something click into place that had maybe become askew lately. Between Sherrinford, Sherlock, Margot, PALL, and everyone else. They'd not had much time to be them. Sure, they'd worked, they'd been at home, and they'd gone on a date but they'd not done this. This was very much them. A reminder of what made them them in the first place. A strange arrangement to spend time together put in place to justify doing this, secret looks and confused feelings. And sarcasm, always the sarcasm.
"Do you remember when we came here after we first agreed to the arrangement?" Mycroft asked. Anthea side-eyed him.
"You mean after you ruined my date because you thought we already had an arrangement?" She said bluntly. They looked at each other then both looked away with a hint of smiles playing on their lips. Anthea nodded a few times. "I remember." She replied lightly. "We acted like strangers. We sat on opposite sides of the bench and had no idea what to say to each other." Amusement in his features, Mycroft nodded indicating that Anthea was correct. Funny how different that was to them now – arms touching as they sat as close to each other as they could.
"If we were observing those two right now, what would you say about them?" Mycroft asked, playing one of his loaded games. He nodded to an empty bench across the park. Anthea tried to imagine them sitting there trying to work out why it wasn't working. Anthea bit her lip.
"That's she's way too good for him?" She teased. Mycroft dramatically rolled those deep blue eyes of his and clicked his tongue. Anthea smiled up at him. She looked back at the bench. "I'd say it looks like they both trying but it's a really horrifying first date. They'll either not try for a second date or they're going to friend-zone each other." Mycroft's lips twitched at Anthea's choice of words. "And then you'd correct me, wouldn't you?" She asked, tapping his foot with her own. He raised his eyebrows and nodded.
"You'd be correct in saying that they're both trying but you missed the reason why the dynamic is off." Anthea tilted her head, really imagining the pair Mycroft was talking about. "There is an overwhelming amount of fear radiating off of both of them. She's afraid to do something wrong and he's afraid to do anything right. Yes, it could easily end up in flames but if you can just see the way she looks at him with such affection and patience and the way he appears to actually be listening when she spoke you'd know this was rather important." He paused, ran his tongue over his teeth and shook his head. "They're too invested in one another to let an awkward conversation on a bench be the end of it. Personally, I'd give them three attempts before they gave up." It was so lovely until it wasn't and he joined in with her joking. Anthea let out a sniff of a silent laugh. She kicked his shoe this time. He looked at her like she'd actually punched him.
"And then," Anthea nodded. "They'd get up with some sort of plan, her all quiet smiles, and you'd say you told me so."
"Shall we follow them?" Mycroft asked. Frowning, Anthea looked up at him. She went to tuck that rebellious lock of hair behind her ear again when he beat her to it, his long fingers guiding the curl back in place.
"You mean to the bookstore?" Anthea asked. Mycroft nodded. Unsure why they were following their past steps but game for anything, Anthea shrugged. "Sure." She spoke. "Are we going to pick the same book to read a chapter a night together?" When was the last time they'd done that together? Before Margot, before Sherrinford. It had been a while. Mycroft dramatically rolled his eyes.
"Only if we find something good."
They spent an hour in the bookstore before they found something. They wandered around picking up books and dismissing them. Mostly Anthea showed books to Mycroft and he'd either read it or had no interest in it. Occasionally he picked up a book that piqued his interest, read the back, and dismissed it as not suited for the two of them. Eventually they settled on The Girl with The Dragon Tattoo. Anthea, knowing all the hype around it but having never read it, and Mycroft mildly interested in a book series that was published posthumously. If he didn't enjoy it, he would not be picking up the rest of the series. That was fine by Anthea. It would be fun to do their chapter a night thing again. That had really bonded them. Almost as much as learning Mycroft's love of certain genres of cinema had.
After that the walk continued. A very, very familiar walk. Anthea didn't even have to question where they were going – she knew the shops, she knew the rubbish bins, she even knew the cracks in the sidewalk that she avoided out of pure muscle memory.
They stopped outside her old building where her flat that she still owned sat a few floors up. One hand in his pocket, the other playing with his umbrella, Mycroft looked up to her window.
"It's unoccupied at the moment, correct?" He asked like he knew the answer. Of course, he knew the answer because Anthea probably told him quite some time ago that she was considering weather renting it out again was worth the hassle after the last tenants left.
"Mm-hmm." She confirmed. Blue eyes fell on her once more.
"Shall we go up?" He asked. Going along with this strange game, Anthea resisted shaking her head but allowed herself to give him a deadpan expression.
"Why not?" She relented. Mycroft gestured with his hand for her to lead. Anthea went to step forward and stopped in her tracks. "I don't have the key." She remembered. Mycroft pursed his lips together. He pulled his hands out of his pocket and hanging on his thumb was her keyring that contained the flat's key.
Oh, he was definitely up to something.
Anthea held her hand out and Mycroft dropped the key into her hand.
The went the familiar path up to her apartment. Anthea unlocked the door and let them in.
The place was currently empty. Anthea's furniture was in storage and the last tenants had cleared out entirely. It was empty and cold. Nothing about it spoke of Anthea's home for so long and yet… there was a little bit of magic in here.
Anthea walked into the living room and looked around. She could picture it all, the couch, the armchair, that television. She had a rug too, not always, but she'd gotten one once she had enough money to justify buying a rug.
Mycroft walked into the room.
"Ah." He breathed. His cool eyes scanned every surface. She bet he had an even easier time picturing what it used to look like compared to her. "This is all rather anticlimactic, isn't it." His eyebrows danced and he gave that dangerous smirk again. Anthea smiled back.
"What did you expect?" She asked. She looked around once more and shrugged. "This isn't home anymore." She sounded wistful but also warm. "I have a better home now." Mycroft hummed. He tapped on the wall with the end of his umbrella and watched as dust fell from the wall. He did a good job at stopping his lip turning up entirely but he did wipe the arms of his coat down.
"Perhaps in the kitchen you might find something more appealing." He…. Suggested? Ordered? Both. Anthea gave him a questioning look and he hummed. "Humour me, Anthea, dear."
Anthea walked into that little kitchen prepared to start searching in the cupboards for whatever it was Mycroft was up to. Turns out she didn't have to. It was there, right where she used to have her microwave. A bottle of champagne, two glasses, and a small box. She'd seen this box before. This box contained that right, that beautiful breath-taking engagement ring. That ring she desperately loved but had to turn down because Mycroft was an idiot and tried to pull the engagement version of the NDA on her.
Anthea's breath was stuck in her throat as she looked at it. She approached with trepidation. As soon as she was close enough, she opened the box just to make sure. Sure enough – there it was – that stunning ring. Anthea closed the box, closed the box and exhaled.
"Mycroft!" She yelled, turning around, ready to walk out to talk to him. Turns out she didn't need to, he was standing in doorway, leaning against the frame, head touching it too. He was looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever set eyes on. He was looking at her like she was a first edition of The Divine Comedy or the cure to addiction. He was looking at her like she was The Birth of Venus. Anthea was certain her face was as equally fond as she looked back at him. "Mycroft." She chided softly. He cleared his throat, choosing that he was going to ignore her.
"You see, my dear, I've been thinking." He began. He was speaking like he was giving a lecture to his brother. "It was awfully unfair of you to give me such a dressing down last time you saw that ring and insist that I do something grander." Anthea rolled her eyes. Mycroft continued unphased. "I understand that you felt you deserved more, and rightly so, I might add, but this is me." He bowed his head in emphasis, steel eyes piercing into her. "You of all people should understand how much I was going out on a limb doing that. It's a difficult thing to do, admitting you want to spend the rest of your life with someone when you've tried for so long to be alone." He looked to the side, at nothing at all, let out a breath and shook his head so faintly it would be so easy to miss. "First you ruin all my plans and then insist I do it your way? Ridiculous." He scoffed. "What did you want me to do? Get on one knee and make a public spectacle like some kind of simpleton." He pulled a face of disgust and Anthea laughed. "No, I don't think so."
Anthea looked back at the box but Mycroft continuing brought her attention back to him.
"So here I was at an impasse." He shrugged a shoulder lazily. "You deserve the grovelling goldfish and I would rather everything be handled quietly and professionally, hardly a feeling on display besides the fact that I need the ones necessary to do such a thing in the first place." Another look of disdain at the though and Anthea smiled. He was such a dramatic weirdo. "Then it occurred to me that we have already established a compromise when it comes to matters of the heart. That ghastly arrangement certainly had its perks, more so for me than you, but you were very kind to play along for as long as you did." Boy, didn't Anthea know it. "Sherlock may scoff at it, Jamie may laugh at it, but it helped us along. We have quantifiable proof."
"We do." Anthea nodded with a smile. What proof was he referring to? The fact that they then started dating? The fact that she lived in his house? Margot? The fact he stayed for Margot? It didn't matter – it was all proof.
"My next question," Mycroft hummed. "Is what did we do on these non-dates, as you referred to them, of us? Asides from silently co-existing in my house or having office lunches we got coffee, went for walks, people watched, and we came here. To this." He touched the frame with his umbrella and looked around with a hint of that contempt. Anthea pulled a playful face at him, scrunching up her nose. "This place I hated almost as much as I hate Baker Street. With its bookshelf acting as a room divider, with handbags, shoes, books, and takeout containers littering the dining table. With that couch you should have gotten rid of years ago were you not listening to useless sentimentality. And that bathroom." He nodded in the direction of her bathroom. "I hate that bathroom. Tell me, why did you never have it retiled? Do you like things that are way past their prime." Anthea snorted but before she had a chance to open her mouth Mycroft held up a hand to silence her and closed his eyes. "No. Don't answer that. I heard the remark before you could even make it."
"Oh, but it would have been a good remark." Anthea breathed. Mycroft ignored her.
"Do you know how many times I looked up at the door to this building and wondered what I was going to do with you? Do you know that any time I'm on this street I suffer residual fear and panic at how you were ruining my carefully laid out life plan?"
Anthea's heart was beginning to turn into a warm puddle as it slowly melted into a puddle. She doubted that people who didn't know Mycroft knew how sweet this all was.
"What better place is there but here to remind you that you've made it impossible for me to live without you?" Oh, here we go. Now her heart had no hope. "What a grander declaration of love than to repeat the old routine that made us such fools for each other in the first place? I ask you objectively, as Anthea James, if Mycroft Holmes were to ask Alice Clarke to marry him then where else would he di it but in that kitchen of hers where countless teas and coffee but very little food was prepared? Where else to demonstrate that someone had escalated the Ice Man's heart than the place where the digging commenced?" He stepped forward, his face falling into a sincere look of adoration. "So, if you would indulge me in saying something I realised I failed to say last time that may have been the tipping point. Would you do me the honour of finishing what you started and marry me?"
Anthea leant against the counter and just smirked despite herself.
Oh, Mycroft.
Oh, Mycroft.
How you.
How beautifully you.
How stupidly you.
How could you come up with something as absurd?
How could you come up with this when your first attempt was that?
Anthea looked at the little box on the counter. She laughed and shook her head, sending her curls dancing around her face.
Anthea walked up to Mycroft.
"You," She poked him in the chest with her index finger. He let her. "Are the worst person I have ever met."
"Oh, I know." He hummed, holding her eye contact.
"You have ruined my life on multiple occasions."
"Holmes' have a tendency to do that, yes." His eyebrows danced naughtily. Anthea could have slapped him but she found herself grinning like that stupid Chesire cat.
"There have been so many times where I have wondered if I made a huge mistake hitching my wagon to your black star." She said. Mycroft pursed his lips.
"Professionally it was the right choice but personally, no, you should have steered well clear."
"I have hated how much I love you so many times."
"Me too." He hummed. Anthea's shoulders relaxed. That grin on her face, she shook her head and laughed.
"Yes." She exhaled. Mycroft cocked his head to the side.
"Yes?" He confirmed.
"Yes!" Anthea repeated. "Of course I'll marry you." Mycroft deflated, his iceman personal evaporating and revealing a very relieved human being.
"Oh good," He sighed. "Because if you said no again, I was about to book passage to the furthest corner of the Earth and stay there for a very long time."
Anthea put her hand behind his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. As usual, tense at first, Mycroft quickly fell into the kiss. One hand found the back of her head and the other found her waist, pulling her close to his body. They kissed deeply and passionately and when they were done Anthea rested her head against Mycroft's chest and he stroked her hair.
"Perhaps I should put the ring on, no?" Mycroft asked. His voice reverberated in his chest, filling Anthea with a warmth that had never hit so deep into her soul. She smiled into the fabric of his suit.
"Yeah." She spoke. "In a minute." Boundaries and trust issues be damned, she wanted to sit in this moment for a bit longer. Forever, really, but a little while would be nice. Mycroft relented, wrapping both hands around her waist.
"Did I say I loved you in any of that?" He asked softly against her hair. Anthea shook her head.
"It felt like you were actively avoiding it." She closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth. "You said declaration of love but that doesn't count.
A pause.
"Should I say I love you?" He asked.
"You don't have to but it would definitely seal the deal." She heard him laugh once in his chest.
"In which case, I love you."
"I love you, too."
Author's Note: Firstly, don't expect this to be a regular occurrence. I'm not ruling out the fact that I may get the whim to add another highly wished upon chapter in the future but my main motivation was to not leave this so unfinished when even just adding this could help so many people who read and get to that point and go "HUH!?".
Secondly, I had to read so much AFTFE in preparation to writing this and OOOOHHHH BOY! Why didn't more people call me out on some of those egregious errors. I used the wrong through/threw all the time. It was crazy. I'd like to think I'm better at writing now but I don't know if my characterisation stands up.
Thirdly, if you were around back then or you're just coming by this now – thank you. This fic was a very special time in my life. I loved being so involved in a fandom. Then life took over, and then there was a pandemic and more life stuff! I even stopped responding to reviews for a bit because I felt so bad. How could I leave it without this chapter happening? I feel like with this chapter here I can at least feel comfortable responding to people again.
And who knows? If I can do this, maybe one day we can get another season? Never say never!
Thank you.
I'm still on Tumblr and always up for a chat but prepare for so much nerdy stuff if you come check in on me.
