Author's Note: I absolutely adored hearing your reactions to last chapter – it was highly amusing and highly encouraging. Thank you for all the wonderful feedback guys, please continue to enjoy this, I work hard to make sure it's all to a decent standard. This is a fun one that I've been looking forward to since it was mentioned in passing. I can't wait to hear what you all think! Please read, review, and please 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 in the Holmes Residence

"No! That's my answer and it's final." Mycroft entered the office arguing down his phone, the annoyance clear as day on his face. Anthea watched from her desk, slightly concerned, as he tossed his umbrella and coat down and rubbed his forehead. What in God's name could this be about? She hoped it wasn't anything too serious but she'd very rarely seen him this worked up. He walked into the kitchenette, Anthea's eyes on the doorway still. "I don't care if Sherlock's not coming, that's not my responsibility!" Oh, something involving Sherlock. It can't be anything that could threaten the entire world then. Anthea rolled her eyes, smirking slightly as she went back to working on her computer. "No, Mummy. I'm not asking, you'll just have to deal with me and that's that. You only had Sherlock last year and you survived." The door slammed behind him as he entered his private office. Anthea had to stifle a light chuckle. Only another person with the last name Holmes could work Mycroft up. It's a handy thing to know, actually.

Anthea was far back into her work with no interruption from her boss when her phone, sat in an empty spot on her desk, lit up and began ringing. Frowning, Anthea lifted up her blackberry and looked at the number. Huh. It wasn't one listed in her phone, nor was it one she had memorised. Anthea's dark eyes scanned the room, phone held in her palm, for anything out of the ordinary. Finding nothing to cause concern she quickly looked at the wooden door behind her before pressing the answer button and slowly rising the phone to her ear. She waited for a few seconds before talking.

"Hello?" She spoke slowly and carefully.

"Hi, is this Anthea?" The cheery voice of a woman came through the receiver. Her serious frown turning into a confused quirk of the brow, Anthea's gaze flickered over to the wooden door once more.

"Mrs. Holmes?" Anthea asked, confusion filtering through.

"Please call me Violet. I hope you don't mind, dear, I got your number off of Sherly." The confusion still on her brow, Anthea broke into a smile, laughing a single laugh. Why would Sherlock do that? Just to spite Mr. Holmes most likely.

"No, I don't mind at all." Anthea made a point of raising her voice to be friendlier. "Is there something I can help you with? I can get your son for you if you want." Even though she had apparently just gotten off the phone with him.

"No, no, dear, no need to talk to him." Violet Holmes rushed the subject away, clearly trying to hide something from her son. This was all very suspicious. "I was wondering if you would like to join us at our home this weekend?" Anthea looked at the date on the bottom right hand corner of her computer screen.

"But isn't it Mother's Day this Sunday?" She asked, shaking her head. "Nah, I really couldn't get in your way."

"Nonsense, sweetheart!" The motherly tone made Anthea's heart feel like it was aching. "Sherlock is apparently too busy. And what are you going to do?" Anthea bit the inside of her lip and rubbed her forehead. She reflected on how Mycroft had done that when he entered the office on the phone.

"I don't know, I could go to my best friend's, or my boyfriend has been trying to get me to meet his parents for months now, and –"

"Oh, you don't need that stress! I'd love for Mycie to have some company and plus, it's always just the boys and I. Are you really going to let me have another Mother's Day without any female energy around? I need help to balance out the hormone levels." Anthea giggled at Violet's pleading and determination. A Holmes in disguise as a damsel, that was this one, a wolf in sheep's clothing. Anthea shrugged to herself.

"Sure, I'd love to come."

"Oh excellent! I'll see you Saturday night then, dear. Oh and tell Mycroft, will you? Bye, love."

Click.

Anthea stared at her phone. Had she really just been manipulated by Mrs. Holmes? Well, the boys had to learn from someone. Anthea, still in a bit of a daze, stood up, walked to the office door. She knocked, waited for a response, opened the door and stood in the doorway.

"Yes, my dear, what is it?" Anthea blinked, trying to comprehend what just happened herself. When no quick reply came, Mycroft looked up, steel eyes watching her carefully. "Anthea?" Anthea swallowed.

"Um, I think your mother just told me to tell you that she forced an invitation to Mother's Day weekend onto me." Mycroft's face was straight into his hands.

"I almost won."

"I'm sorry, sir."

On Saturday afternoon, straight after work Anthea and Mycroft had driven to Mycroft's parents' house in almost complete silence. Anthea was nervous for spending time with a family that wasn't Jamie's and Mycroft was just dreading the whole situation. He'd tried smiling at her at one point but it didn't even attempt to reach those dull greyed eyes and it failed to take any sizable chunk of either of their anxiety. Once they'd gotten to the house, their matching small black suitcases behind them, Mycroft had taken a deep breath before his gloved hand could press the doorbell. The door was opened by Violet Holmes, looking just a vibrant as she had when Anthea had last seen her just under a year ago, bright blue eyes as searching and curious as Sherlock's.

"Hello, Mummy." Mycroft was pulled down into a large hug by his mother. This time he did not reciprocate – probably still annoyed – but he did not protest either, simply put up with it.

"Oh Mycie, it's so lovely to see you. You need to visit more, I miss you." She beamed, rubbing him on the back. It took a while for her to notice, but Anthea was smiling at the image of the mother and her son. Finally releasing her son from what Anthea was sure he thought was a never ending torment, Violet's sights locked onto Anthea. She tilted her head to the side and smiled.

"Anthea, I swear you're even more beautiful than when I met you." Anthea giggled at this, once again falling into that childlike feeling Mrs. Holmes made her fall into. She gestured for Anthea to come forward to get a hug. Anthea placed her briefcase down and stepped forward to be pulled into her far gentler hug.

"It's nice to see you again, Mrs. Holmes." Anthea laughed. She could practically feel Mycroft rolling his eyes behind her. Violet let her go, looking her up and down the way her sons always did to every person in the whole wide world.

"You're welcome any time, dear." She looked between Mycroft and Anthea a few times before stepping back inside.

"Now come in, I have a roast in the over." She began walking towards when Anthea presumed the kitchen would be Mycroft lazily gestured to the door.

"After you, my dear." Anthea nodded and smiled, picking up her briefcase and taking her suitcase and walking into the threshold. The Holmes household was without a doubt the homeliest house Anthea had ever had the privilege to be welcomed into. The moment you stepped through the door it felt like warmth and happiness. It was small but perfect for a small family. Bookcases filled with books, couches that looked like kids and pets had been all over them, photos all over the place. This is what a family home looked like. Just passed the front door was a picture of a child Sherlock with a puppy in his hands and another of Mycroft in his university graduation regalia. This was the environment that created genius with the confidence to be whoever they wanted to be. This warmth and cosiness and encouragement is how you get Sherlocks and Mycrofts. This was it, and this is what it felt like to walk into a home you grew up in, littered with memories and photos. She must have been standing and gawking for too long because Mycroft, now walking past her, lightly touched her shoulder to keep going. Anthea blinked to recover and followed her boss.

"Siger, love, the kids are here." Mrs Holmes voice came. As Mycroft and Anthea neared the kitchen the smell of roasting meat and vegetables filled her sense. Anthea couldn't even remember this smell. Siger Holmes was sitting at the kitchen table did not move to stand up, merely beamed with pride at his oldest son. He probably understood the children's' lack of appreciate for sentimentality more than Violet.

"Hi Myc, how are you?" He asked.

"I'm very well thank you, Father. We got work done faster than expected today."

"Always a good thing. And how are you, Anthea?" She smiled and gestured to Mycroft with a little head tilt.

"What he said." Violet Holmes, from the stove chuckled.

"Joined at the hip, these two, Siger. How one is the other probably is also." Siger chuckled, Mycroft clicked his tongue, and Anthea tucked her hair behind her ear. "Mycie darling, you can take Anthea's bag to Sherlock's bedroom." With a huff but absolutely no complaint made of words to be heard, Mycroft took the handles of the suitcases and began to make his way out of the room. Anthea's eyes followed him, a frown deepening her brow.

"Oh no, sir, I can do my own."

"No, that's fine, dear, Mycroft has got them, don't you sweetheart?"

"Yes, Mummy." He sounded like a grumbling teenager. Anthea had to blink and absorb the whole situation. She certainly did not comprehend any of this, but she was certain she was enjoying it.

That evening after Anthea had already changed into her flannel pyjama pants and black band tee and Mycroft had shed most of the layers of his suit sans the waistcoat, all four of them sat around the kitchen table with a warm cup of tea in their hands. On the table was ginger cookies and chocolate chip cookies.

"Who is up for a game of Scrabble?" Violet Holmes asked cheerfully. Mycroft pursed his lips, half nodding as his sipped his tea. Anthea nodded.

"Yeah, I could go for a game of Scrabble." She said lightly.

"Don't do it, 'Thea." Siger Holmes warned, leaning over and placing his hand on top of Anthea's. Her dark chocolate eyes searched his bright blue ones. "It's a trap." Mycroft scoffed.

"Oh, Siger, stop it." Violet playfully tapped her husband on the shoulder.

"The day I met this woman I stopped winning Scrabble. I used to come second and then Mycroft turned four." Anthea laughed, looking over at her boss who had a look of disdain on his face but his eyes were sparkling playfully. "And then Sherlock came along and took it all so seriously that they began using tactics." Anthea laughed again and waved Siger Holmes off.

"I'm a smart girl, I'm sure I'm up for the challenge."

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Oh for goodness sake," Mycroft, muttered into his tea. "Is everyone in this family so dramatic?" Anthea considered pointing out that he was exactly the same, instead she rolled her eyes at Violet Holmes.

There had been no contest, there had really been no point in playing it at all. Mycroft had won, his mother close behind him, and then there was the biggest score margin the world had ever seen that you could be forgiven for thinking the two of them had been playing with small children. Anthea was the one who had the pleasure of coming dead last.

"I can't believe it." She stuttered, a hand going through her curled hair. The kettle whistled as Mrs. Holmes prepared more tea for the group.

"I warned you." Siger chuckled, arms crossed against her chest.

"But it's not like we did bad words. Some of our words were just as good as theirs."

"Yes, but that one," Mr Holmes pointed to his wife over at the kettle. "She gets all the double letter scores and triple letter scores quick smart. And him." He pointed to Mycroft, steel eyes trained on the finger and eyebrow quirked in bemusement. "He plays games, blocks prime locations off, extends words, he's a sneaky one." Anthea sneered playfully.

"I shouldn't be surprised, he loves playing dirty." Mycroft scoffed.

"I'll have you know everything I do is legitimate, my dear." Anthea raised an eyebrow at him.

"In Scrabble, you mean, because I could raise some questions here, sir."

"Oh yes, in Scrabble." His eyes sparkled at the playful banner. Violet brought of the tea for Anthea and Mycroft first. She clicked her tongue and shook her head.

"I don't even want to know what illegitimate stuff you two are talking about. Sometimes ignorance is bliss." Anthea laughed, turning back to Siger.

"What we need to do is play a team game where we get a genius each and they can't cheat." His eyes were bright and twinkled when he laughed.

"Good idea. What game do you suggest?" He said as his wife placed a tea down next to him and planted a kiss on the side of his head before taking her own seat back. Anthea shrugged, her finger trailing the rim of her mug.

"Something like Pictionary, I guess." Her suggestion was met by a room full of groans and complaints. She frowned and looked around the room. "No?" She titled her head at Mycroft. He closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Never." Mycroft's lyrical voice came. Violet was the next to speak.

"We had to ban the game. Siger and I won once by a landslide. The boys got in a huge argument about whether it was due to Mycroft's drawing skills or Sherlock's deduction abilities. We-"

"It was Sherlock."

"Myc, don't cut me off, it's rude. We had to ban it after it lead to a whole week of the boys not talking to each other. The dog was very stressed out by the tension between them." Anthea couldn't help but laugh as she looked over to Mycroft, his eyes focused on his tea. She would have done so much to see those boys arguing over Pictionary.

"That is so them." Anthea laughed, turning to Violet. "Did you know, the first time I met Sherlock, Mycroft opened his door and Sherlock just pelted a ball of paper at his head." Siger chuckled while Violet huffed in exasperation. "Mycroft just stepped out of the way like it always happens."

"Oh, that boy." Violet sighed, looking her current son up and down. "If he ever gets out of line I hope you'd tell me Mycie." Mycroft faked a smile at his mother.

"He's doing quite well right now, Mummy. There hasn't been a hospital visit in a very long time."

"That's lovely to hear, dear."

Anthea padded quietly down the stairs the following morning to get to the kitchen as quickly and quietly as possible as to not wake anyone, her blackberry clutched in her hands. She was determined to get herself a coffee and wake up quickly in order to deal with super smart people today. Upon entering the kitchen she found Violet Holmes already sitting at the kitchen table with her own cup of tea. She looked up from the paper laying on the table and smiled warmly and so very sweetly at Anthea.

"Good morning, dear. Can I get you a tea or coffee?" Anthea smiled wearily, sleep still in her eyes.

"Good morning." She practically yawned. "No it's ok, I've got it. The kitchen's like Mycroft's right? Coffee and tea above the kettle, mugs underneath." Mrs Holmes smiled into her cup.

"Yes, dear, make yourself at home." The room was left in silence as Anthea made herself a nice strong cup of black coffee. She took a nice deep smell, savouring the flavour. Taking the seat across from Violet, Anthea took a sip of the coffee and almost groaned in relief. Violet left Anthea be until she'd gotten through half of her coffee. It was then that the paper was folder shut and Mrs Holmes picked up her own mug, eyes on Anthea. "So dear, how is the boyfriend?" Anthea looked down into her mug at the dark liquid.

"Ah yeah, he's fine. We're going slow which is great for me, for the job and everything." Anthea winced. Mrs Holmes raised her eyebrows as she smiled.

"Are you happy?" Violet's voice was light as she tried to keep in inconspicuous. Anthea tried her best not to frown in confusion as she tilted her head and forced a smile.

"Oh, of course I am."

"Well, that's all that matters then, dear. Because I think you do wonders for my son and if you're happy I bet it makes him happier." Anthea faltered, placing the coffee mug down on the table, blinking a few times in Violet's direction.

"What do you mean?" Anthea's voice was softer than she had intended. A knowing look crossed Violet's face.

"My sons, bless them, aren't the best at making friends so when you start to hear a name more than a few times you know they're important." She smiled. "Mycie looks after Sherlock for me and by the sounds of it you do a fair amount of looking after Mycroft." Anthea blushed, looking down onto the table and rubbing her forehead.

"I just make sure he's eating well, really." A pause as she pursed her lips in thought. "And do my job, that's a lot of work."

"Well you must be very good." She smiled. Anthea's nose crinkled as her cheeky smile came onto her face.

"I'm the best."

Mycroft entered the kitchen already dressed, of course, with the manuscript unwrapped in his hands. He placed it down gently in front of his mother.

"Anthea." He nodded, earning a nod in response.

"Sir."

"Happy Mother's Day, Mummy. I think you'll appreciate this." He hummed, walking over to the kettle to make his own morning coffee. White, two sugars. Mrs Holmes picked up the manuscript and read the title, her eyes widening. She placed it down and twisted in her chair.

"Mycroft, this is an unpublished theory!" She was on the verge of yelling.

"Mmm." Was how he responded, barely looking over his own shoulder. Violet got out of her chair and gave her son a hug from behind. Anthea felt the warmth inside her when she heard Mycroft chuckle rather than complain. "I thought you'd appreciate it." Mrs Holmes let go of Mycroft. She sat back down and picked up the manuscript, scanning the first few pages of the mathematical talk.

"Appreciate it? Mycie, I love it. Thank you so much!" She was in utter disbelief and it was adorable to behold.

"Does this make up for my lack of appearance last year?" Violet clicked her tongue.

"Well it's a very good start!" She huffed causing Anthea to giggle. "How in the world did you get this?" Mycroft came to sit down next to Anthea, hiding his small smile behind his coffee as he sipped.

"Oh, I have my ways." He muttered.

"Yeah, pretty university lecturers." Anthea muttered. Violet Holmes, as sharp as many mothers tended to be, looked up the moment Anthea had finished speaking and looked at the girl.

"Pretty university lecturers?" She asked. Mycroft waved her off lazily.

"An old acquaintance of mine." He sighed.

"Who thinks I do dry cleaning." Violet's fierce blue eyes looked between Mycroft and Anthea.

"She was mean to you?" Her voice was so defensive, Anthea wasn't used to this.

"Only a little." Anthea mumbled. Mycroft shook his head.

"She merely underestimated Anthea's role. Other than that she was perfectly pleasant." Mrs. Holmes was still looking at Anthea.

"But you don't like her?" Anthea smiled sheepishly.

"No, but it's just a silly little thing." Mrs Holmes pouted, placed the manuscript down, and crossed her arms.

"Then I don't like her either and I don't need to read this."

"Mummy." Mycroft protested. Violet held up her hand in his direction and shook her head.

"No, if she was mean to Anthea then this pretty university lecturer can have this back."

"But Mummy." Feeling bad, Anthea sighed.

"She did go out of her way to get that for you, Mrs. Holmes, and Mycroft's been ignoring her calls for the most part." Mrs Holmes seemed to be weighing options in her head before she sighed.

"Okay, fine." She huffed, picking the manuscript back up. "It's not like I could have resisted this forever anyway." Mycroft sighed and Anthea laughed.

"I'm so sorry you had to endure that, my dear." Mycroft sighed that night as he drove them back home. Anthea who had been watching the lights pass by in her window turned her head to look at the silhouette of her boss.

"What do you mean, sir?" She asked.

"I'm sure you would have rather been doing anything else this weekend." Anthea turned back to look out the window as she thought over the night she had stayed at the Holmes family house. The smells of the roast, the sounds of the kettle, the books piled up, the wardrobe of bored games, the photos that lined the walls, and the utter warmth that emanated from those walls. It had been a long time since she'd been in a home.

"I don't know, sir." She smiled to herself. "I had fun."

Author's Note: The return of the parental Holmes'. What did you guys think? I can't wait to hear. Once again thank you to the guests: Bunnyrabbit100, Corrine, Wheezzy8, Connie, "go get it", and Wink. Your names are just as familiar as the rest of the regular reviewers! Can't wait to hear what everything thinks.

Also thanks to those who followed the "Ask Anthea" blog and asked her questions. It's a lot fun for my sleep deprived mind :P.