Author's Note: I am so pleased you all enjoyed last chapter and liked Jamie :). She was a bit of a gamble but it looks like drunk Jamie and drunk Anthea were a hit. Particularly that little hug, it seems. Thank you so much, guys! Your continued support is amazing. I hope you like this chapter just as much, I think it's a very nice one to have as chapter 20. Anyway, read, review, and most importantly; 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 Worked Until 4 am

Anthea yawned as Mycroft finally switched off the desktop computer in his study. Now that they were finished with their work she couldn't even pretend not to be tired any more, she felt positively exhausted. This was extremely close to the feeling you got in high school or university when delaying an assignment until the night before and spending eight hours straight trying to pump the thing out at a decent quality. The yawn caused her eyes to water so she rubbed them with the palms of her hands, really not caring at this point if she pulled her hands away and they were covered in makeup. Who was she trying to impress now?

"Well," Mycroft breathed out, raising his eyebrows once at Anthea. "That took longer than predicted." Yawning once again, Anthea nodded in agreement. Next time they made a meeting with a foreign security Intel it would be convenient for them rather than the other people. Or rather, convenient for her since she seemed to be the one that was bothered by the meeting starting at midnight.

"I wonder what the time is." She mumbled as she lazily lifted up her handbag and began fumbling through it for her blackberry. Mycroft, whose phone was on his desk, unlocked his phone, peered at the screen and beat Anthea to it. When he made a small hum in response even Anthea was concerned.

"Four fifteen." Was his quiet answer. What? Face coming to land in her hands Anthea fought back a loud groan so it came across less obnoxious. That was absurd, utterly and completely absurd. She had to get up at seven at the latest so she could be at work by eight. That was less than three hours sleep, and Mr. Holmes was always there before she arrived. This wasn't fair, this wasn't her fault. This should not be allowed to happen.

"I still have to drive home. It'll be five by the time I lie down. The sun will be coming up." Anthea sighed, staring blankly at the closed blinds of Mycroft's window imagining the sun threatening her with its harsh orange hued sunrise. Mycroft would be somewhat fine – he could at least function at a decent level with minimal sleep as long as Anthea made sure she looked after him a tad more tentatively during the day, but Anthea, she had learnt in high school that once you started getting to just two or three hours sleep her body really didn't want to be there. Tomorrow, or today rather, was going to be a hard day. She couldn't even remember if it was going to be busy. Even if it was quiet, that created the danger of being caught falling asleep at work and that most certainly could not happen. Mycroft placed his hands together, index fingers on his lips, leant on the desk and took in Anthea, clearly thinking something. She didn't even bother to ask what was up – if it was worth getting what little of her attention was left he'd voice it himself, she just couldn't do it right now.

"My dear," He began in that careful and controlled voice of his earning a weary look from his very tired personal assistant. "It's just as dangerous to drive this tired as it is to drive under the influence. Unless you feel awkward doing so you are more than welcome to stay overnight. I have plenty of spare bedrooms and if we really must we can put off arriving until nine like most of the people in that office." Mycroft was being considerate, it always concerned Anthea when Mycroft was being considerate because that meant that she must look like a wreck to garner that kind of sympathy. Rubbing her right eye with her hand again, Anthea shook her head slowly.

"No, no, sir. I couldn't do that." She said. "I can't intrude on your home and I still need to get ready in the morning." Mycroft sniffed and waved her off.

"Anthea my dear, there is no one here to intrude upon. You can practically have one of the guest rooms as your own if you so wish. As for preparing yourself for work, leave here at eight and I'll see you at nine. I'd rather not you chance your luck driving, you can barely focus as it is. It would so be tiresome to train a new PA." Tired brown eyes searched the slightly dulled steel eyes, looking for any sign of hesitance or false courtesy. Coming up with nothing, Anthea pursed her lips and tilted her head to the side.

"Are you sure I won't be in your way?" She asked, earning that very small but honest smile in return.

"I won't even know you're here." Anthea nodded.

"Yeah, sure." She mumbled. "Thank you, sir, it's a good idea."

"Good," He hummed. Mycroft got out of his desk, stretched his lower back, took his jacket that had long been abandoned on the back of the desk chair, and began to walk out of the warm dimly lit office. "Let me show you to your room."

He led her to one of the downstairs bedrooms. It was a decent size, painted a cream colour with white furniture – bedside tables, dressing table, and a double bed. There were no paintings nor ornaments in the room showing that it very rarely if ever got use. She guessed that this was not the room his parents had stayed in nor the one he occasionally made Sherlock stay in. This truly was an unknown, empty room he was offering up to her. She stepped into the room, smiling, as Mycroft stood at the door.

"So this is Anthea's room now, huh?" She joked, turning around and raising an eyebrow at her boss. Copying her facial expression he crossed his arms across his chest.

"It might as well be." Grinning, Anthea pointed to the bedroom door.

"Can I get those letters little kids have that spell their name out on their door?" Her joke was rewarded by an eye roll but no comment in return.

"There is a bathroom across the hall." A small head movement to indicate the door behind him. "There is most definitely soap and hand wash in there but I'm afraid there isn't a spare toothbrush." Anthea clicked her tongue.

"So I'll have to wait until I get home tomorrow morning. Fantastic." She sighed. Mycroft raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips in response, half a sign of sympathy and half a sign of 'I don't really care'.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Miss James."

"Goodnight, sir."

The beeping of the alarm on her blackberry that morning was perhaps the most annoying thing Anthea had ever heard in her entire life. With a loud groan Anthea rolled over to her stomach, snatched her cursed phone of the bedside table and stopped that infernal noise before it could do anymore damage to her eardrums or her head. She looked at the battery life on her phone. Twenty five percent. Shit. She was going to have to get her charger from home and bring it to work today. Suddenly Anthea felt acutely aware of her surrounds as she stared at the white headboard and cream wall. The had slept a few precious hours in that big empty house that she technically wasn't supposed to be in without direct permission, this wasn't right, she was invading Mycroft's home territory. And yet, he had practically given her this room when he'd dumped her off here. Something to ponder when she had more coherent thought, right now Anthea needed to focus on getting up, waking up, and getting home so she could then return to the office.

Having slept in just her button up white shirt, Anthea threw her skirt on underneath, not bothering to tuck it in or put her jacket on considering she'd just be going home. She stuffed her stockings and shoes into her handbag and searched through it for her travel sized perfume so she at least didn't enter Mr. Holmes' living quarters a complete mess. After a few squirts, causing herself to cough twice, and combing her hair with her fingers, she picked up her items and wandered into the main living area.

Mycroft was sitting at the kitchen counter in his slacks, shirtsleeves, vest, and tie. He had his laptop open, most likely either checking his email or the news, had a mug of white coffee and a piece of toast in front of him.

"Morning, sir." Anthea mumbled as she approached. Mr. Holmes did not look away from his laptop but he did acknowledge the PA's presence.

"Good morning, Anthea." He hummed, pushing a mug towards the seat next to him. Sitting down in what she figured was her offered seat she picked up the mug and had a sip, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath after it. Black with two sugars, exactly how she liked it.

"Thank you." She sighed. Mycroft faked a smile and raised his eyebrows once. That was her 'you're welcome'. That sat in silence for at least five minutes, Mr. Holmes absorbed in whatever he was reading, and Anthea just enjoying her cup of coffee. Holding the mug to her chest she hazarded a glance at Mycroft's current state of clothing. "Going to wear a black suit with red accents today are we?"

"Mmm-hmmm." He answered, taking a sip of his coffee then scrolling down on his laptop. Anthea placed her mug down and began tracing the rim of it with her index finger.

"I hope it's one of your pinstriped suits. They really flatter you." Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mycroft freeze for not even half a second as blue eyes flickered over to her before he returned to normal and the deduction or whatever that was, was gone as quick as it came. Anthea let out a single laugh, a small smile playing on her lips. "Maybe I should take this rare opportunity of knowing what you're wearing and match you. I have a few black dresses ironed and I always love an excuse to wear my red heels. A little bit of red lipstick too couldn't hurt." She joked lightly.

"Ah yes, please do." Mr. Holmes mocked as he closed his laptop and moved it to the side, closer to where his briefcase and umbrella were currently sitting. "Surely we'll be the most fashionable pair in that building." Anthea mocked a gasped as she tilted her head.

"Maybe we'll start a trend. Soon all the PA's will start dressing like their employers." Mycroft let out a single chuckle and held back the smile that threatened his lips.

"If you wished to have some breakfast, my dear, there is some not quite stale bread on the counter over there and a few condiments in the fridge." Clearly someone didn't keep his food as well stocked as his tea collection. For a brief moment she wondered what his mother thought of that. Anthea held her hand up and shook her head.

"Oh no, sir. I couldn't, really. I'll just have a banana when I get home like I always do." Mycroft rolled his steely eyes.

"Do not feel as if you're taking advantage of some form of hospitality. The bread will need to be thrown out soon, feel as if you're doing me a favour." Anthea sniffed.

"God forbid, sir, you'll have to throw out two extra pieces of bread."

"I know." The sarcasm dripped from his tongue as that smile poked out again. His face quickly went straight and an eyebrow quirked as he shook his head. "Really, my dear, after all the extra work hours you put in up until early hours this morning, you can't tell me you want something more substantial like carbohydrates?" He looked up to the clock in his kitchen. "And still a long way off until lunch, too." Anthea jumped out of her chair, rolling her chocolate eyes, and made her way over to the bread and toaster.

"With such tempting terms like carbohydrates, how can I resist? You just twist my arm, sir."

Anthea rushed up to her apartment as quickly as she could. As soon as she got in the door she slammed it shut, dropped her bag, and began shedding layers of clothing on her way to the shower. If she were going to be ask quick as possible her morning routine was going to have to suffer – she was going to have to cut back on the shower time and take much less time with her hair and make-up. Today was either a pony tail day or hair out and left in its natural state.

This had been a good idea at the time – this whole crashing the night at Mr. Holmes' house. He was right, her staying and getting a few extra – and very precious – minutes sleep added up and was certainly much better than her driving home while falling asleep and perhaps the sunrise blinding her. However, it was making her morning a bit of a havoc and she hadn't brushed her teeth yet – that was the worst of all. If this was to happen again – and Anthea knew it would knowing this job – she'd have to have a much better solution.

Anthea walked into Mycroft's office, hair swept back in the pony and wearing the promised red shoes and lipstick with her black dress, carrying a duffle bag and a frame. Mycroft looked up from his file as he heard the clicks of his PA's heels. Taking her in, he clicked his tongue and shook his head, looking utterly bemused.

"You actually went through with your matching clothes, threat." He sighed. Anthea smiled and shrugged.

"I told you sir, we need to start a trend. You know, just to see if anyone says anything or if they really do copy it." Mycroft sighed, closing his file.

"The more I get to know you, my dear, the less I understand you." Anthea was going to take that as a compliment. Complex and hard to understand meant you stayed relevant, boring people were tossed aside by the Holmes brothers. Mycroft folded his hands together on his desk. "Such as the bag you just brought into my office, why?" Grinning larger, Anthea placed the bag in the chair opposite to his seat.

"It's a dress, a pantsuit, and skirt and jacket ensemble, a pair of pyjamas, a spare perfume I don't usually use, some toiletries you will not have, a phone charger, and my face wash." She spoke as they both looked at the bag. "Oh, and a pair of black heels in case whatever shoes I was wearing don't match the clothes." Mycroft pursed his lips and nodded once, steel eyes falling upon her own.

"I gather this is just in case another emergency or meeting takes us into the early hours of the mourning again?" He asked. Anthea hugged the frame to her chest and nodded.

"Well, sir, you said I could have that room. Why not throw some clothes in there just in case. This morning was ridiculous. I think that was the quickest I've ever gotten ready, sir." Mycroft nodded to the frame.

"And dare I ask what that is?" He practically sighed as the apprehension could be seen in his eyes. Anthea turned the frame around to reveal a poster of van Gogh's Sunflowers. The look of disbelief on Mr. Holmes' face was priceless. "Oh dear God." He breathed. His left hand went up to rub his forehead and his left temple. "You do not expect me to hang up a framed poster in my house, do you?" Anthea couldn't help but smile. She knew it was stupid and would annoy him but that was really half her point.

"It was a house warming present from the uncle I lived with for a few years before I moved out on my own." She shrugged, being honest. "I figured it would look dashing with your cream room. And since you said it could be mine and your house is so… blank. I thought, hey, I just have this leaning against a wall, why don't I put it in my room?" Her nose crinkled as she smiled mockingly. Mycroft closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"What am I going to do with you, Miss James?" Smirking, Anthea placed the frame down with the bag.

"Nothing, because I'm good at my job, sir and it would so be tiresome to train a new PA."

Haha, MH and I are totally wearing matching outfits today. – A.

OMG! Cute! Hahaha, how did that happen? – Jamie xx.

I kind of set it up. – A.

How? Pics? – Jamie xx.

Are you kidding? I'll get murdered. – A.

I'll see what I can do. – A.

Yay! :D – Jamie xx.

How would she describe her emotions the next time Anthea stepped into that cream and white room? Very amused, she did laugh, and kind of touched, maybe. It's a difficult feeling to pin down. Words cannot properly describe Anthea's reaction when she opened the door to see the stupid Sunflowers poster hanging above the bed. She just couldn't believe it, she'd never expected that to happen. In all honesty, Anthea had expected to find it either next to her desk the day after she gave it to Mycroft, or against the wall in here, insulting no one's sense of taste and style. To see it hanging up was incredible.

Curiosity got the better of her as she snuck, for reasons unbeknownst even to her, over to the wardrobe and slowly opened it. Her clothes were hanging up and her heels were placed neatly on the floor of the wardrobe. Anthea stepped back and just stared at her clothes.

That man, honestly. He baffled her.

What was the word for how she was feeling right now? There had to be one.

Author's Note: What did you think of chapter 20? Once again I'll take the moment to thank my lovely guest reviewers for last chapter: Corrine, Wink, Wheezzy8, and Meep. I love to hear from everyone! So please feel free to review. Thanks a lot for reading. I've got the next few chapters in mind :).