Author's Note: Wow, guys! Freaking fantastic feedback last chapter, I'm absolutely blown away. Although, I really can't say I'm surprised you were all happy to have Mummy and Daddy Holmes back, Violet in particular :P. This is a chapter that needed to be done so I can move onto the next couple of chapters I have planned out, I think you'll like it. I hope you like it. Thanks once again for the astounding feedback, it keeps me going! 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.
The First Time She Went Inside 221B
The red and blue lights of the police cars were still flashing brightly in the dark of night when Mycroft and Anthea decided to leave the bustling crime scene. Or more truthfully when Mycroft decided to leave and Anthea followed dutifully while dealing with the smaller matters that had been ignored that day on her blackberry. Certain correspondence had been ignored in favour of stalking Mr. Holmes' little brother's new flatmate. They slid into their respected seats within the familiar town car and Mycroft tapped lightly on Walter's seat to indicate for him to take them back to Mycroft's home where Anthea would get in her own car and go home – the duo barely spending any work hours in the actual office today. They'd been in the car, at crime scenes, in an abandoned warehouse, and briefly at the Diogenes Club, but not the office .Anthea meanwhile continued to try and catch up on as many correspondence as possible.
"Well, Anthea, what do you think?" Mycroft hummed, fingers flexing on the handle of the umbrella as he stared at it deeply but not really seeing it. Not taking her eyes of her phone, Anthea raised her eyebrows and titled her head towards her boss.
"Think of what, sir?" She asked lightly.
"Doctor John Watson." He spoke slowly and with such clarity, as if testing the words on his tongue. Anthea smirked to herself as she listened. "You've read the reports I have, you spent more time with the man than I did, what do you think of him?" Anthea's smirk grew wider as she quirked an eyebrow.
"Honestly, sir?" She chanced a quick look at her boss before quickly returning to her email.
"Absolutely." Now Anthea's grin grew to show some of her teeth.
"I think your brother has found his own Alice, sir." She mused light-heartedly. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Mycroft's attention being drawn to her as he turned to face her, a frown threatening his brow.
"Whatever do you mean?" Anthea inwardly laughed, wondering how blind the Holmes' were to human interactions sometimes when with other aspects they were nearly otherworldly.
"A normal human being who finds a Holmes tolerable enough to do their every bidding for them and a Holmes who finds them tolerable enough to be around almost every hour of the day? Yeah, sounds like another Alice to me." She joked. She'd have to tell Jamie later that Mycroft's brother found his own Alice, she'd laugh and get it. Mycroft sniffed what could be a laugh or could just be some noise of derision and tilted his head as her observed Anthea.
"My dear," He sighed. "There is only one Alice." Her grin shrinking to something a little more honest and playful, Anthea turned to look at Mycroft with a quirked eyebrow.
"I think you'll find there are a lot more Alices and Johns in the world than there are Mycrofts and Sherlocks, sir." She turned to her phone. "I mean, where did your parents find those names?" Her humour was with a scoff and Mycroft turned to look out his window.
"The one time I choose to be metaphoric and you take the opportunity to tease me." She laughed lightly, feeling ever so slightly bad but she really couldn't turn down the opportunity. After all, they don't come up often. But it was also true, really, Sherlock and Mycroft were both one of a kind. She locked her blackberry and put it away. Folding her arms and turning to face her boss she decided to be serious for his sake.
"Well, what do you think, sir?" Her dark chocolate eyes searching his face for any sign of what he might be feeling. "This Dr. Watson passed your bribery test and even went straight to the Baker Street address to tell your brother. We also have enough reason to believe he was the one who shot that taxi driver. Do you think he'll stick around?" The umbrella twisted in his grasp as Mycroft watched it carefully, taking a deep and steady breath.
"He was most definitely quick to give his loyalty. As to whether he'll be able to withstand Sherlock Holmes, only time will tell."
Anthea arrived outside of 221 Baker Street and – like Mycroft instructed her to do – did not knock on the very front door. Instead she let herself in, looked around the entrance for any sigh of the landlady, and walked up the stairs to apartment B. She was just about to knock on the door when it was pulled open causing Anthea to blink as she came face to face with the reason she was hear – Sherlock Holmes. The bright eyed detective took one quick look at her and walked past her, causing Anthea to sidestep out of the way.
"Can't deal with your messes right now," He called out as he hastily made his was down the stairs. "Busy!" Anthea stared after him, no emotion on her face, as she pondered the chaotic storm that was Sherlock Holmes. Funny isn't it that Mycroft is so calm, being the older brother. He was the proverbial calm before Sherlock's storm. Sometimes she liked to wonder if Mycroft's mind was as chaotic as Sherlock's or if while Sherlock saw random pieces of information on people Mycroft saw something more akin to a list of facts. She smirked to herself when the sound of footsteps indicated a presence standing behind her. Only two possibilities on who that could be and the heaviness of the footsteps eliminated the possibility of the elderly landlady.
"Um, Anthea, right?" She turned around to see Dr. John Watson in one of his sweaters now in the place Sherlock had been in merely seconds ago. Anthea smiled mildly as her response of agreement. She'd played the quiet mysterious assistant for Mycroft the few times she'd since John Watson with him, she'd keep the persona up. "I take it you're here to see him?" He nodded down the stairs. Anthea chuckled once, shaking her head slightly.
"I was." She corrected, smiling slyly to herself.
"Yeah well, I have no idea where he went, he just kind of jumped up and ran off." Anthea rolled her eyes. "Does Mycroft do that?" John asked, gesturing to the door. "You know, just run off without telling anyone?" Anthea bit her lip and shook her head at the doctor.
"No, I always know where Mr. Holmes is. That's just Sherlock." John scoffed.
"Lucky me." He inhaled deeply, causing Anthea to smile at him.
"Though I get paid to know where mine is, so there's that." John smiled at Anthea for a moment before he blinked and frowned.
"Ah sorry, can I help you with anything?" He stepped out of the doorway allowing Anthea to step into the apartment. "I mean, I know you were here for Sherlock but maybe I could take a message or something?" Anthea looked around the place. Well, it was certainly still chaotic and messy but the apartment itself was in much better condition than that other place with the sickly colours had been, and this wallpaper was quite lovely really. Also there seemed to be a lack of scrunched up paper and takeaway containers on the floor – certainly Dr. Watson and this Mrs. Hudson's doing. She looked around to the kitchen and scoffed to herself. It was still littered with scientific gear all over the place. God help anyone who tried to prepare actual meals in that kitchen.
"Um," Anthea turned back around to face John, holding up the two manila files in her hands lazily. "I have casefiles for him."
"Ah, right." John stepped forward from Anthea and took the files. He quickly flicked through one as he walked over to place them on top of a pile of newspapers on the coffee table. "Anything interesting? Or can't you tell me?"
"Ones just a quick case that will take Sherlock a day tops, less with your help. The other one is just something that has recently become declassified and Mr. Holmes thought Sherlock might want to take a look – see what was missed and what was done sloppily." John crossed his arms as he looked from the files to Anthea.
"Declassified? Wait, is this because I mentioned that our caseload was low the other morning?" Anthea merely smiled at raised her eyebrows. Maybe but she wasn't going to say for certain. John Watson was smart enough to read between the lines though. He had a sibling, this should be simple enough for him to understand even when it was revolving around the Holmes brothers. Anthea took her phone out of her jacket pocket to check the time.
"Right, well, bye." She was cutting it short and began walking towards the door to leave.
"Wait," Dr. Watson reached out to stop her leaving, Anthea turned around and leaned on the doorframe, crossing her hands across her chest. She didn't say anything merely raised an eyebrow. "Look you know all this stuff about me and Sherlock and I don't even know your real name." Anthea pursed her lips and shrugged. "It's only fair I know a little bit about you and Mycroft if I'm going to be seeing a lot of you." Anthea looked at John Watson and his eagerness. Ah, he was like an eager puppy – Sherlock's puppy. She'd turned him down and he'd taken it very well, now it seemed he was just being kind. What kind of world did Anthea now live in that she didn't expect people to be kind for the sake of being kind and getting to know people? Plus, if they were correct, John Watson just may stick around for a while. Anthea sighed and shook her head.
"You get three questions." She huffed. Watson gave her an incredulous look, her eyes however betraying her and shining with a hint of humour.
"What are you, a genie?" Anthea quirked an eyebrow.
"Is that one of your questions?"
"All right, all right. You people." He shook his head with a huff. "Are you ever going to tell me your real name?" He asked. Anthea closed her eyes as she shook her head.
"I'm determined for Sherlock not even to find out." That got a small laugh out of Dr. Watson, how pleasing. Not that Sherlock was trying to find her name, he didn't even really care, but it was fun for her to imagine that one of the world's greatest minds had no idea who she was.
"Right, well…" A pause as he thought of something worthwhile. "Do you know what the bloody hell happened between Mycroft and Sherlock? What's with all this enemy talk?" Anthea looked to the ground and bit her lip as she shook her head.
"I know bits and pieces of things like you probably do already, but for what happened," She shook her head again. "I wish I knew." She knew her face had slipped slightly from its blank and slightly mocking mask to something more sombre but she didn't care – John had already proven that he was serious about a friendship with Sherlock.
"Probably something stupid." Anthea rolled her eyes, not at John but in agreement of his statement.
"One more, Dr. Watson."
"Are you sure you don't want to go out for a coffee?" She laughed genuinely, tilting her head back as she did.
"Goodbye Dr. Watson." She smiled. She turned to leave again. She'd made it out of the threshold and down the first step when she remembered something that she'd been wanting to tell John Watson had she ever gotten another moment alone with him. "Oh!" She turned back to John.
"And something to note. If you're ever worried about Sherlock – like if you two are ever in any trouble or you suspect a chance of a relapse please let Mr. Holmes know." She looked John deeply in the eyes. "He'd drop anything in a second to help." John folded his arms across his chest and smiled.
"Wow, I thought you just worked for him." He said, eyes glittering. "But your Mycroft's friend, like real friend, the way I'm Sherlock's friend." Anthea scoffed, looking to the side briefly before looking back at John.
"Mr. Holmes doesn't have any friends." She shook her head. John raised his eyebrows and laughed. I guess her statement just fitted the image of himself Mycroft had already implanted in John's head – the intimidating silhouette leaning on the umbrella.
"Thanks, I'll let him know." Anthea smiled and turned back around.
"Bye." She called out on her way down the stairs.
"See you." She heard called out from the door.
Once she returned back to the safe confines of their little government office Anthea went straight to the wooden door to the left of her desk and knocked, in order to report what happened. She waited a few seconds before letting herself in.
"That took longer than estimated." Mycroft said from his desk as he continued to work on his computer. Anthea walked over and sat down in the chair across the desk, crossing her legs and folding her hands on top of her knee. "I trust that you gave Sherlock the files?" She took a moment to watch as his steel blue eyes flickered over the computer screen. She wondered what he was working on specifically, not a word document by the way his eyes darted around the screen. Anthea tucked a curl behind her left ear.
"Not exactly, sir." She breathed. First Mycroft's gaze flickered over to her, then he turned completely to face forward on the desk and folded his hands together on the dark wood.
"Anthea?" He asked carefully. Anthea rolled her eyes at the vision of Sherlock bolstering out of the flat leaving her and John in his wake.
"When I got to 221B, Sherlock was on his way out with no hint of where he was going. Dr. Watson was there though, and he offered to take the files. Since there was nothing too confidential within the files and the doctor hasn't given us a reason not to trust him yet, I took up his offer or giving them to him, sir." It appears that answer was satisfactory as Mycroft turned back to his computer. He pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows as he began typing again.
"Ah yes, John Watson." He mused. "I suspect you may be right about him, my dear." Anthea half smiled and half frowned as she tilted her head to the side, watching her boss carefully.
"About what, sir?"
"That my brother has found his own Alice." Anthea shook her head and smiled, looking to the side.
"Well, at least your Alice is a pretty girl." She joked, a grin on her face. A pause as nothing was heard except Mycroft's typing. Anthea frowned, wondering if she'd even been heard. Of course she had, why wouldn't he have heard her? Usually he'd at least have scoffed. "Nothing to say to that, sir?" She asked, laughing nervously at the end. Mycroft kept typing.
"Why? There was nothing incorrect about your statement." Anthea almost choked on thin air. That's not what she was expecting. She looked around the room nervously before she caught hint of one of those rare smirks that actually reached Mr. Holmes' eyes upon his face. He quirked an eyebrow as sparkling steel eyes landed on Anthea.
"Oh Miss James, not fishing for complements are we?" The mockery in his tone was so playful.
"No." Anthea choked. Slender hands were folded together on the desk once more.
"Or would you rather I contradict you and point out your flaws?" He looked up in a mock thinking pose and sighed. "Let's see, brown hair and brown eyes is certainly nothing unique, you wear far too much black –" Anthea stood out of her chair and began speed walking out of the inner office.
"Screw you, you got me with my defences down." She huffed, hearing a chuckle in response from within the office. She took a deep breath and rolled her eyes again, why did she work for him again? It was her fault he played with her – she established it from day one with her nervous sarcasm.
Anthea went to the kitchenette and made herself a cup of tea to recover. She clicked on a kettle, found a mug yet to be used today, placed the teabag in the mug and waited. She folded her hands across her chest and hugged, leaning against the counter. It was while the kettle was boiling she remembered something that John had said that sort of related to the playful banter that had just happened. Walking back to the wooden door Anthea knocked and opened the door.
"Sir?" She asked. Once again he stopped typing, turning the chair to face his assistant.
"Yes, Anthea?" He was back to business but there was a hint of a sparkle left in his eyes.
"Doctor Watson was talking about something today and it got me thinking." She felt like shuffling her feet but held them planted on the ground. She smiled shyly. "Look, I know you don't believe in friendships and I'm just your assistant but it's about two years now and…" How to word this correctly. "Avoiding the word friends and without family of my own to clog up the list, if I were to rank how important the happiness of the people in my life is to me it would go Jamie, you, Tim I suppose, James, Sherlock by extension of you, Walter, my friend from my last job." She scrunched up her nose. "He said something about me being your friend and I just thought you should know that yeah, if you used words like that I'd call you one." Mycroft's face was straight as he looked down to his desk and turned back to his computer. Anthea looked down at the floor and took a steady breath in and out. Well, so much for that, then. She slowly turned around and went to leave the office.
"There may be many Alices and Johns out there." Anthea turned back around to see Mycroft still looking at his computer. "But even you must admit there is only one Anthea." Anthea blinked and then smiled.
"And you're lucky she puts up with you."
"No, I'm lucky she's good at her job." Anthea laughed almost silently, smiling to herself as she left the inner office. Time to make that tea and get back to work.
Author's Note: Sherlock is out of that junk pile of an apartment and into 221B! What did you think? Enough Mycroft in this chapter to keep you going until next chapter, I hope. It's that time again, time to thank the wonderful guest reviewers: Wink, Wheezzy8, Corrine, Connie, two unnamed guests, toolazytologin, and also a thank you to ValkyrieDefender since I can't thank you personally. I look forward to the feedback from everyone!
PS: Anthea's blog is getting some good questions lately, someone asked what the funniest thing Mycroft has done in a meeting. That was my favourite.