Author's Note: Thank you so much for the fantastic reviews last chapter! I knew you'd all appreciate a change of pace and I'm glad you found last chapter cute. Welcome to everyone who has found this between last chapter and this one, I know a few of you are floating around, I love that people love this! I've got plans to do another Myc chapter but more on that at the end. Alright, now this chapter with the long title. This one has been on my list of chapters for a very long time and I hope you like it. I struggled a little but with it but I do like it so I truly hope you like it too. Please my friends, 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 They Spent Time Together For No Particular Reason

Sunday…

Sunday…

As it turns out, when you are single, your life revolves around work, and your friends all work erratic hours and travel around the world, Sundays are extremely boring. Tim was boring, yes, but he was company. Someone at the very least talk to, another living presence in her home or his home. Just something to rely on when all else fails.

Anthea lay on her back on her Queen sized bed and stared at her white ceiling. She'd been doing this long enough to memories all the flaws and embellishes. Maybe she'd paint it next Sunday. She was so mind-numbingly bored that she didn't even feel like doing anything. She could go out for a walk or a few drinks but that sucked alone. She could go get food but you looked like a loner at a restaurant alone. There were some dead moths stuck in the cover of her bedroom light, huh. She could clean that out…

Anthea flipped onto her stomach and now looked at her bedside table where two half read books sat. Sure, she really should keep reading, but that required a focus and attention span that had gone out the window hours ago. She'd thought maybe watching TV or a movie would be good but as it turns out TV sucks, and when you've seen all the movies you own multiple times they're just not as fun unless you're in the appropriate mood or with the appropriate person. A novel adaption with Jamie, James would be good for an action film, and Tim was a good reason to watch romantic comedies. And what was Anthea's mood right now? Nothing, numb… Bored. Anthea buried her head into her mattress. This was ridiculous! She'd been on her own for such a long time and then this stupid boring lawyer came along and made her accustomed to having another presence around. Not only did he have the nerve to not be that interesting, but then he went and left her life. Leaving her without a constant presence once again. Alone.

Anthea lifted her head up, resting her chin on the top of her hands, and once again looked at the bedside table. Her blackberry was sitting next to the two books. Anthea watched it for what felt like an hour but was more likely five minutes, willing it to ring. James and Carol were on missions, separate ones in separate places. James would be back late this evening, Carol next week. Anthea's friend from her previous job was away for her anniversary, yuck. She'd already spoken to Jamie today, the girl was going on a date with her slowly becoming steady boyfriend tonight and was going to call Anthea after it. That meant anywhere between ten in the evening and ten tomorrow morning.

Anthea was good at making friends, there was no doubt about that. She could schmooze with the best of them and it worked wonderfully for her work. Anthea's problem was she had way more distant friends than she did close ones, something that had actually become worse with her job and all the secrecy it required. Anthea sat up, her brows furrowing as she stared at her phone closer.

Well, she hadn't exhausted all of her options… There were he university friends but they'd most likely want to go out tonight and Anthea had work tomorrow morning. There was… He would most likely say no, but in the off chance. Anthea shook her head. Nah, stupid idea, absolutely stupid. It was over stepping her boundaries and it was entirely unprofessional. She edged closer to the edge of her bed and her phone. But really, after almost three years of not only working together but traveling together, eating together, helping each other out in dire situations, hell even family events! Doesn't that give Anthea some right to be able to pick up the phone? Maybe not but then she'd apologize, hang up, and tomorrow would carry on as if nothing had happened, no harm no foul.

With determination set in her jaw, Anthea picked up her phone, went into the contacts and pressed dial.

"Anthea?" Mycroft's lyrical voice came over the phone, sounding the faintest bit confused and slightly concerned.

"Hi, sir." Anthea tried too hard to sound casual as she folded her legs on the edge of the bed and began tapping her leg. "How are you?" A pause.

"What is this about?" Anthea frowned and laughed nervously.

"Nothing, just wondering what you're doing."

"In all seriousness?" She cracked a smile at the hesitation and confusion that was coming from her boss' side of the phone. He really didn't know how to converse with normal people, did he?

"Deadly serious, sir." Another pause.

"I'm cooking…" Anthea raised her eyebrows and mouthed an 'oh' to herself.

"I didn't know you cooked, what are you making?"

"Well, you see, I don't often but…" He caught himself midsentence. "Miss James, what is this, in all honesty, about?" There was an edge now and Anthea couldn't tell whether Mycroft was mad at himself or at her. Anthea sniffed a single laugh and shook her head.

"Ah, well, I'm bored, sir." There was another moment of dead air as Mycroft took this in.

"You're bored? Anthea, it's your only full day off and you're bored." Anthea scrunched up her nose.

"I know it sounds ridiculous." She took a deep breath. "I was looking at my DVDs earlier and I was thinking about how you said you haven't seen or read Fight Club. That's a serious gap in your semi-recent popular culture knowledge, even though that's not your thing."

"Will you be arriving at your point shortly my dear, or should I turn off my stovetop and find a seat?"

"I'm getting there!" She laughed, rolling her eyes. "It's got an amazing twist and I want to know if you'd see it coming." Anthea hesitated as she winced. "So you know, as your friend but not friend of three years, I was thinking maybe I could bring it over?" The silence that followed was deafening and with every second that passed Anthea felt her inner pain increase. "Of course I don't mean to intrude if you have better plans, sir. I could just lend it to you if you'd prefer." She heard a long sigh over the receiver.

"If I say yes, you owe me a favour, Miss James." Anthea had to blink to clear her head. Had she just heard a sort of yes? She cleared her throat.

"Absolutely sir, anything short of another Alice in Wonderland reference."

"Fine, come over then. Let's make this as quick and painless as possible, shall?"

"Thank you so much sir, bye!"

"I'll see you soon."

Click.

She didn't get changed to go over Mycroft's house – she'd just grabbed her handbag, the DVD and left the prison of boredom as quickly as possible. That being said, when Mycroft Holmes opened the door he would see his assistant dressed in an oversized jumper, jeans, and a pair of flip-flops. Her usually neat hair was naturally parted and waved. He looked her up and down and cracked the smallest of smiles, breathing outwardly as if laughing to himself. He was in a suit shirt and trousers, the sleeves rolled up. It was the least amount of suit related items Anthea had ever seen on him. Anthea tilted her head to the side and cracked a smile.

"Aren't we just both dressed up in our Sunday best?" She crinkled her nose. Mycroft clicked his tongue and rolled those steel eyes of his. He sidestepped and gestured towards the house.

"If you insist on bothering me, my dear, you might as well do it from inside where it's warm." She scoffed and entered. Anthea herself closed the front door and followed Mycroft back into the main living space and off to the kitchen.

"So what were you cooking sir?" Anthea asked. He hummed to himself.

"Seared salmon and salad." Ah, the diet. That's why he was making an effort to cook, feeling subconscious. Perhaps Sherlock had said something. Anthea didn't know why Mycroft worried so much. Anthea nodded in acknowledgement. Mycroft went back to setting out his food as Anthea got out her phone and began texting. She could see him watching her as he did so. A moment passed. "You know my dear, it wouldn't be imposing any more than you already are if you asked for some lunch." Anthea looked up from her phone to see Mycroft with a half smirk and a raised eyebrow watching her. Anthea rolled her eyes and went back to her phone.

"That's rude, sir."

"No more so than inviting yourself to someone's home." It was Anthea's turn to quirk an eyebrow.

"Either way sir, it's rude for a guest to ask and it's rude for a host not to ask." There was a small chuckle.

"Very well, my dear. Would you care for some food?" His tone was dripping with more sarcasm than she thought possible. Anthea put her phone away and waved him off with a flick of her hand.

"Only if it's no extra effort, sir." He laughed again and Anthea gave a sly smile.

The unlikely duo sat down at dining table – a room Anthea had never been in before – to eat the salmon salad. Never one to put fish in with lettuce and the like, Anthea hesitantly shifted her plate of food. She could feel Mycroft watching her from the other side of the table innocuously, a faint air of amusement coming off of him. Making sure there was a piece of each element on her fork to best get the flavour Anthea took a mouthful. Her eyes light up and she nodded in approval as she chewed. Mycroft said nothing as his blue eyes flickered back onto his own plate.

"Not bad, sir." She praised her boss, stabbing her fork into another piece of lettuce. "This is much better than my attempt at cooking with you around." Mycroft sniffed, lowering his fork down to the side of his plate.

"Well, my dear, that tends to happen when one is only cooking one element of the dish, rather than three separate dishes as part of one meal." Anthea merely quirked an eyebrow and smiled at the boss, her attention falling back on the food.

"Either way, you're pretty good for someone who claims to not cook." She added quietly.

"I'm afraid with my limited time my skillset is equally limited as yours is as far as items I can successfully cook goes." Anthea eyed him with a crooked smile.

"Except where my expertise is macaroni and cheese, eggs, and pancakes, yours is salmon salads and other equally pretentious meals."

"Oh I do detest the word pretentious." Mycroft sighed.

"I'm sorry sir, sophisticated? Is that better?" She blinked innocently earning herself a sarcastic look in return.

"Much."

"I bet you can probably make some good deserts." Mycroft scoffed as he picked up his glass of red wine to have a sip. Anthea tilted her head, lips pouting slightly? She swallowed her mouthful of food. "No?"

"Hardly." Anthea bit her lip, her eyes falling back down.

"I made some pretty successful cupcakes once a few years back for a work thing. By scratch too, I was impressed."

"I would have paid to see that." Mycroft's lyrical voice came from the other side of the table. Anthea placed her fork down and looked up.

"They were successful, sir." Mycroft too lower his fork, looking Anthea sincerely in the eyes.

"My dear, you are great at many things but you are hardly a housewife." Anthea's chocolate eyes narrowed onto her boss.

"They were good. You would have liked them." Mycroft's bored, bemused smile was all over his face as he looked Anthea up and down. A moment passed before he nodded to her plate.

"Finish your meal."

Damn it, why did he always win?

They were in his lounge room, Mycroft on the couch, Anthea on the floor leaning against the couch, as the credits rolled. An empty bowl of pretzels sitting next to Mycroft on the couch and above Anthea's head. Anthea twisted around to look at her boss, his ever present mask on his face as he read the credits. She tilted her head as she watched him – grinning.

"Well?" She asked raising her eyebrows. Steel eyes flickered down to land on chocolate ones, Mycroft giving her a quizzical look. "Well?" She repeated? "What did you think?" Mycroft looked back at the screen, his lips pursing as he calculated an appropriate response.

"It was obvious." If it were anyone else to say this Anthea would have choked on thin air and accused them of being a liar. Mycroft Holmes, or any Holmes for that matter, well, they were the exception. Anthea's face fell flat and she stared at her boss. She shook her breath and sighed. Mycroft gestured to the screen. "The clues are all there." He sighed.

"Yes, I know." Anthea shook her head again. "But they're the kind of clues you're only supposed to notice on the second watch through."

"They made the mistake of presuming their audience is made up entirely of unperceptive idiots." Anthea chuckled.

"No, they just didn't account for over perceptive geniuses." Mycroft pouted and raised his shoulders slightly in a shrug, considering this statement.

"An interesting concept none the less." He hummed. Anthea crinkled her nose.

"So you didn't hate it?"

"I didn't hate it. I've been forced to watch far worse than this." Anthea turned back to the screen and nodded triumphantly to herself.

"I'll accept that as a small victory." Mycroft chuckled behind her. Anthea shut her eyes and sniffed a half laugh herself. The man was impossible, completely and utterly impossible. How she dealt with him all the time she'd never know, and now she was here by choice. When did that happen?

"Well, my dear." Mycroft stood up, placed his hands on his lower back to stretch it out after sitting down for so long, and picked up the empty bowl off his couch. Anthea, out of complete habit being his shadow at work, followed suit and stood up, readjusting her clothes. "I have some work to attend to in my study." With a slight frown and biting her bottom lip, Anthea nodded. Mycroft began walking out of the longue room. Anthea looked over to the TV which was now on the menu screen. Should she turn it all off? Deciding against it for the moment being Anthea followed Mycroft out of the room. He deposited the bowl into the kitchen sink. He turned around and regarded his assistant with that ever present bored expression. "Feel free to watch whatever mundane program you watch on Sundays, come borrow a book if necessary. Really just entertain yourself." Anthea frowned again. She looked down to the floor and tucked her hair behind her ear, looking up again.

"You don't need me to leave, sir?" It was Mycroft's turn to frown as he cocked his head to the side.

"Whatever for?" He hummed. Anthea looked back in the direction of the lounge room before turning back.

"Well I came under the pretences of bothering you with that film, sir. It's over." Mycroft scoffed.

"You also came over because you were bored and believed this was a more stimulating environment. If I leave you to your own devices I'm sure you'll soon find that this house will do no more to distract you than your own." Anthea let out a single laugh. Mycroft's mouth threatened to pull into a small smile. "Stay, help yourself to the kitchen. We'll go to work tomorrow and you'll tell me you had an equally horrible time as you would have had you stayed at home." Anthea shrugged.

"Okay, whatever you say sir." She laughed. "Thank you." Mycroft clicked his tongue and started off in the direction of his study. "Wait a moment, sir." She called out. Mycroft stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around, bored neutral mask firmly in place over his features. Anthea took a deep breath and looked him up and down. "What do I owe you for the pleasure of your company?" Mycroft cracked a sly smile as he shook his head slowly.

"Oh, I'm not planning on using that any time soon, my dear, I'm going to save that for a particular dire situations." He hummed. Oh boy, that was extremely nerve wracking.

"It can be used for work related purposes, but you can't this favour to make me take your place when you have a meeting with Sherlock or your parents, sir." She added. Mycroft turned and continued to the stairs.

"Too late, my dear. You might be going to the cricket with my father, you might be going to a musical with my mother. Time will tell." Anthea rolled her eyes, fighting the urge to laugh. Fantastic, he always won. She looked around the room, wondering what she should do now that she basically had the house to herself.

"Hey, can I play your piano?"

"You make noise to distract me and I'll kick you out on the street." Anthea laughed full heartedly. She laughed because she completely believed him.

Author's Note: And what do we think of this chapter? Some decent moments in it? Okay, time to thank our lovely guest reviewers! Thank you to Wink, ValkyrieDefender, Corrine, Wheezzy8, Liz, marie, and overjalucifer! I appreciate anyone who takes the time out of their day to read this and review it!

Possible New Mycroft POV Chapter: Anyone who follows me or Anthea would know I'm throwing around the idea of a new Myc chapter. I need you guys to tell me what chapter you'd like to see in his POV, feel free to suggest more than one if you want. Thanks guys!