Author's Note: Thanks for the feedback last chapter, guys! I'm so pleased you enjoyed our view into how Anthea is developing on a professional level as well as the continuing build-up of trust. I didn't expect to include Sherlock in person again so soon but it was the perfect opportunity for him. Like I said, the reviews are my lifeblood so thanks. Please continue to 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 Time Dealing with the Diet

She hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary – not at all – to begin with. Sometimes Mr. Holmes forgot to eat – and she was starting to forget to have dinner herself when she got home late – but in this job that was easy. It wasn't until Anthea got to meet the perpetual energy that was Sherlock Holmes with his teasing comments towards his brother that generally followed the same suit did Anthea really notice. Anthea certainly didn't blame Sherlock for his comments, she didn't ever get siblings but she'd seen Jamie interact with her brother, and that coupled with what you saw on television Anthea understood that siblings could quarrel for absolutely no good reason and then forget about it ten seconds later. And what else did Sherlock have to pick on? When you're older, smarter, well-to-do brother has your lack of full time job, previous drug addiction, and occasional emotional outburst to pray on, sometimes you had to get the insults in wherever they could be found. As it turned out, Mycroft's diet or lack thereof was a pretty good pressure point.

Mr Holmes didn't have any serious problems. It seemed to her – gathering from his and Sherlock's conversations – he was just one of those people who were never happy and was eternally on a diet that he couldn't stick with. Anthea's , well, Alice's mother had been like that before she'd died and Anthea would bet good money were she around she'd still turn desert down claiming to be on a diet only to go out and buy chocolate later.

Generally whenever Sherlock asked "How's the diet" in that specific tone, Mycroft would respond with "Fine". Fine, that one word could be laced with so much subtext, even from the stonewall that was Mycroft Holmes. There would be the 'fine's where he truly meant it, when he'd come back from the Diogenes club slightly out of breath – she could only presume he'd been exercising which amused her to no end – and whenever they'd go out for food or be offered free food he'd make decent choices. Then there were the flat 'fine's which meant that the diet was non-existent. Generally those weren't a cause of any stress, he would make choices on a day to day basis and the routine wouldn't be effected in the slightest. These were generally Anthea's favourites since she'd noticed the perpetual diet. It would be weeks like this that after a particularly horrible day she'd bring back some cookies from her favourite café around the office and she'd offer him one – a secret commiseration together. At the beginning Anthea thought nothing of this, but now, now she knew that Mycroft Holmes accepting anything off of you and not questioning your motives meant there was a certain level of trust there. The fact that this used to be proceeded by a quick glance over her and now he barely even looked at her when he took one – often with a sigh – just proved this and Anthea got a quite satisfaction every time this happened. Then there were the 'fine's laced with warning and venom, and of course sarcasm. This didn't necessarily mean Mr. Holmes was eating badly – the duo tended to do that on business meetings or on busy days and it just couldn't be helped and no one beat themselves up about it. No, those 'fine's meant that he was trying and failing. Mr. Holmes hated to fail at anything. It just wasn't supposed to happen. Ever.

That's where they were now, one of those times when Anthea could tell by the way he'd spoken to Sherlock on the phone a few days prior, that in Mycroft's eyes this diet of his was definitely not fine. Anthea didn't really understand it. There was nothing wrong with his appearance. He was quite lean in her eyes, in those tailored suits, standing tall, and walking around with that air of confidence that only he could pull off. Then there were those sparklingly blue, intelligent eyes that were a few shades darker than his brother's… but that was well beside the point. The point was, Anthea looked at him the same way she looked at one of her sort of friends, and Jamie too, whenever they complained about needing to go on a diet because they'd put on like two pounds. Why? You're perfectly fine. It's a fluctuation, as long as nothing has changed in your lifestyle it'll go as quickly as it came.

That being said she was starting to hate seeing Mr. Holmes in this stage of the perpetual diet. It always looked and felt like there was an extra weight on his shoulders that were already carrying so much and for some reason it was starting to hurt her too. This wasn't an extra stress that she could shake off with a cup of tea, a joke, or taking on a little bit of work she wasn't expected to do. The fact that he'd never come out and told her about his stupid little habit was part of it. How could she bring it up if he didn't? Anthea could only imagine what he'd do if she'd asked him if his diet wasn't doing well. She could feel the daggers of his glare just thinking about it and she could imagine packing up her desk and trying to get home without being kidnapped and shipped off somewhere. That was an over exaggeration, sure, but where there's smoke there's fire.

Anthea sat at her desk, head resting in a palm while the other hand tapped lightly on her desk, completely oblivious to the CCTV footage playing on her computer that she was supposed to be watching, as she contemplated the situation. She just wanted to help. Why? Well because it was her job, wasn't it? To make things as easy as possible for Mycroft to do his job? When he had extra stresses then he wouldn't be as focused as he usually was on work. Clearly it was effecting Anthea doing her own job too, she shook her head clear and focused on the computer screen once again, trying to remember what she was looking for. If this were compromising both of them then surely it shouldn't be allowed to continue.

Anthea continued to go in and out of her thoughts as her work continued that day until she finally looked down to the bottom right hand corner of her desktop to see it was almost two in the afternoon. Absentmindedly Anthea's gaze fell onto the wooden door to her left. Neither she nor Mr. Holmes had stirred for a lunch break yet that day. Anthea bit her thumbnail while she contemplated what to do, stopping when she got a taste of her nail polish. Deciding on a course of action Anthea stood up, smoothed down her dress, and walked over to that foreboding wooden door. As per usual she knocked, waited for the sound of recognition, and let herself in.

"Sir?" Anthea sked lightly as she stepped into the familiar office. As she approached the desk Mycroft looked up from his work, and gave that fake half smile to his personal assistant, the one that didn't reach his eyes.

"Anthea." He greeted, his voice ever so slightly warmer than that cool look.

"Sir, I just noticed it's about two and neither of us have had lunch." She spoke calmly and coolly. She watched as the steel eyes flickered to the computer screen then back to her.

"It appears that you are correct. You're free to go whenever, as long as you let me know. You know this by now." He waved her off with his left hand as his right went to pick up a pen to continue working. Anthea stepped forward.

"Yes, I know, sir." She tried not to hesitate as she pushed forward. "It's just, there's this nice place a decent walk from here, it's not as expensive as some of the places we go to, but they have some great salads and sandwiches on pumpkin seed bread. I was thinking sir, if we took some work with us it would be worth the walk." Anthea felt herself go cold as Mycroft paused. Slowly he placed the pen back down, folded his hands together on the desk and regarded Anthea with a cold expression she had yet to see used on her. There were those daggers she'd been worried about. She did her best – and did rather well if you asked her – to keep the calm and innocent demeanour she held, casually standing there, looking slightly confused at this look. There was a moment of silence as both refused to break and Mr. Holmes calculated his response as carefully as ever.

"You want me to walk what you consider to be a slightly above reasonable distance to get a sandwich marginally better than one I could get without barely stepping a foot outside of this building?" She could see his brain ticking in that cool look. Anthea played up her smile and shrugged.

"Well I want the sandwich. I just want you to get some lunch, sir." It wasn't a lie, she'd already established her best efforts to keep him fuelled during work. "And sometimes it's just nice when we work outside of this place." Was this going too far? Was she being too casual? He scoffed, lip curling ever so slightly. That could have been her answer right there.

"Don't even try to play games with me, Miss James. I don't fall for your ammeter theatrics." Yup, she had played it too casual. Alright, so he's onto her, time to play the game differently. Looking at the portrait of the Queen behind Mr. Holmes, Anthea huffed, letting her body posture sink.

"Well there is more to it, sir." Her brown eyes flickered back to meet his. He still looked like he was taking everything she said with a grain of salt, his head tilted to the left as he listened. "Honestly, sir, I've been eating a lot more since I started this job." Not a lie, either, the best way to try and win this was to not try and lie. "I mean, I don't eat breakfast but I'm eating at least a banana before I leave home every day now." Anthea rolled her eyes at herself. "And the places we get food from, sir! I used to just eat two minute noodles and ramen. This job feeds me too well. I haven't changed sizes but surely you've noticed my clothes are a little tighter." Anthea visibly winced when she said that, not one to care for diets, Anthea like everyone still would not like attention brought to the fact that there might be just a few extra pounds here or there – like she said, nothing substantial. Mycroft, bless whatever type of soul he might have, didn't even let his gaze leave her eyes after she said this and did not even make any type of sign that he knew this to be true. Thank God Anthea worked with the Holmes brother who had some form of understanding of social graces. "I just want to start eating like normal again, sir." A long pause as they held each other's gaze.

"You mean like a poor student?" Mr. Holmes hummed. Anthea cracked a sly smile.

"I did tell you about the pumpkin seed bread? And light rye. These are expensive sandwiches, sir." She was rewarded with the scowl on Mr. Holmes' face being replaced with what could be considered a pull of a smile. He looked over to his computer and sighed, Anthea left wondering if she had lost the battle completely when victory seemed so near.

"Did you review the CCTV footage I gave you this morning?" He asked, eyes on the screen. Anthea nodded.

"Yes, sir." Silence.

"Bring your list of observations, we'll discuss them over lunch."

Success.

They walked next to each other on their way back from the café, Anthea with her hands in the pockets of her jacket, Mycroft swinging his umbrella. None of the tension of the office had followed them to lunch and after a semi productive work lunch the walked back in peace and silence. They were good at that, Anthea noted, being silent around each other. Some people silence was uncomfortable, that had never been the case with them. Mycroft kept his eyes forward when he broke the silence.

"I know what you're doing, you know." No malice, no accusation, nothing in his voice, only his usual flat slightly demeaning tone. Anthea watched him for a brief moment as they walked. "You think I haven't noticed the differences in your observations since you've met my brother? You may try to hide it but it's as plain as the nose on your face, as they say." He hummed. Anthea smiled to herself as she looked down to the pavement. She unconsciously leaned in towards him.

"I knew you'd see through me. At least eventually, sir." She spoke lightly. "I was more worried about whether you'd fire me or humour me." She heard a sniff from next to her, one of those not quite a laugh noises.

"I could give you a lecture about how details such as this are not in your job description if that is what you wish, my dear." That light mocking tone was back and she imagined that extra weight had been lifted off his shoulders, or at least supported by her.

"Oh but it is in the job description, sir." Anthea teased. "I saw you having a personal issue and I tried to assist you with it. It's actually in the job title, sir." She was rewarded with an actual chuckle from her boss as she laughed softly in response.

"What a way to bend the rules." Mycroft mused, lips pursing in thought. Anthea shrugged, pulling her coat closer to her body and looking back at the pavement.

"I'm bound to pick up a trick or two, working for the master." They lulled back into a silence momentarily as they reached an intersection. They stood with a few other people, Anthea tucking her hair behind her ear, Mycroft twirling his umbrella into the pavement, as they waited for the signal to walk. Once passed the intersection and fallen behind the other people who had been waiting at the intersection Mycroft spoke once again.

"A few blocks passed that café of yours is a store that sells nothing but unique cakes." Anthea froze mid stride, Mycroft stopping a few paces in front of her and turning to face his assistant with an amused look and a raised eyebrow.

"Really?" Anthea incredulously asked. Mycroft, clearly finding this comical, looked her up and down. He nodded, eyes sparkling.

"I once had a tiramisu cake there that had crushed maltsters within the icing." Anthea half coughed and half laughed at the idea, staring at her boss.

"That sounds amazing." She mumbled to herself. Mycroft, still looking amused, nodded once in agreement. Well then, if Mycroft liked the place it would be phenomenal. Anthea bit her bottom as she looked over her shoulder, wondering if they'd already walked halfway today.

"Not today, Miss James." She heard from in front of her. Sighing and rolling her eyes, Anthea turned back to face forwards once again, nodded in defeat and began walking again. Of course not, not when they'd done so well today. "Of course, in a few weeks a lunch meeting might arise that just has to be hosted there." Anthea's face light up as she turned her face to view her boss. He looked at her, eyes sparkling with mischief. "If it's precisely the halfway point between two offices it certainly cannot be helped."

"Oh, it would only be fair for our collaborators, sir."

Author's Note: What do you guys think? I'm having quite a difficult week so it was harder than usual to have this ready by today so I do hope it's up to your/my standards (though not as carefully edited, I'm afraid) and you all thoroughly enjoyed it. Don't worry about me, just general life stresses and stuff. Anyway let me know what you thought :).