Author's Note: It seems my choice to have those chapters next to each other worked well – you all seemed to like it and like being able to juxtapose the two. Thank you so much for the lovely reviews for it! Ok, this chapter has been planned for AGES and I'm finally getting to do it. I hope you like it. 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 Saw The Phantom of the Opera Live

"If you had asked me earlier I might have worked something out." Jamie's voice sounded tinny through the speakerphone setting on Anthea's blackberry. The phone sat on Anthea's desk as Anthea rested her head in her hand, elbow on the desk, lazily clicking through the website on her computer. A pout had been firmly planted on her face since Jamie said she couldn't come to London any time soon.

"Mmm, I know." Anthea huffed, refreshing the page again in hopes that maybe the information displayed would change. "It just completely slipped my mind."

"You sure there's no one else who would go with you?"

"Nah, it's one of the joys of being single and almost friendless." Anthea had never seen The Phantom of the Opera performed live before. When she'd heard they were doing it she had been beside herself with excitement and made Jamie promise to come with her… and then she got busy, as per usual, because as it turns out; Anthea's life was nothing but work. By the time Anthea remembered about the play – she'd heard an ad on the radio – it was halfway through the run. Jamie had weddings booked for her to do make up for the next few weekends so she couldn't come. The tickets remaining weren't exactly helping the situation either.

"What about that cute friend of yours that helped us move your stuff?" Anthea rolled her eyes.

"James?" She scoffed as she tried another day on the website.

"Yeah, him."

"No, he'll just think it's a date. I don't encourage that." The door to the office opened and Mycroft Holmes entered. Anthea lowered her arm and sat up in her chair.

"Who cares if he thinks it's a date?" Jamie answered. Mycroft quirked an eyebrow as he placed his umbrella in the coatrack and proceeded to take off his coat. "What's the problem anyway? He's cute, you're cute, and you'll get to see the show. Win, win. Maybe it'll get him off your back too." Anthea winced.

"Hello, sir." She said loudly, tucking a loose curl behind her ear.

"Oooh." Jamie sung like a child who was witnessing another get in trouble. "Hi Mycroft." Mycroft's lip pulled into a bored smile as he walked over to Anthea's desk.

"Good morning Miss Thompson, I trust you are well." He picked up a file that Anthea had waiting for him and began thumbing through it.

"I'm great thanks." The girl had a naughty glean to her voice that worried Anthea to know end as she watched her boss' eyes scanning the pages of the file. "I hear your diet is going very well." Mycroft's steel eyes landed on Anthea, Anthea quickly looked down to her phone.

"Jamie! Not appropriate." She splattered and was rewarded with a giggle from her best friend.

"Oh, like he doesn't know you've noticed." Mycroft raised his eyebrows as he looked back to the file and flicked through the pages.

"Miss Thompson, care to explain why you are taking up my assistant's time with a personal phone call during work hours?" Anthea turned back to the computer and closed the ticketing website.

"Alice is trying to get tickets to the Phantom but doesn't want to go alone." She answered. "Come on Ali, just ask James and make sure he keeps his hands to himself."

"I don't think it's going to matter, Jamie. I've left it too late, there's only a couple of single seats left each night."

"Get some rich guy who has access to a box to take you." Anthea scoffed. "Nah, I'm serious. What's the point of being… whoever you are… and not being able to use those connections? Blackmail someone. That's something you two do, right? Blackmail people?" Anthea laughed as Mycroft placed the file back down on Anthea's desk.

"I need my assistant back now, Miss Thompson. You can theorize about what we do in your own time." Jamie grunted in annoyance causing Mycroft to roll his eyes and Anthea to smile at him.

"Right. I'll talk to you later Ali."

"Cya, Jamie."

Click.

Mycroft folded his arms and looked down his long nose at Anthea as she sat at her desk. She felt like a student under the scrutiny of their teacher. Anthea bit the inside of her lip before tilting her head and giving Mycroft a lopsided grin.

"A personal call, Miss James? Really?" He spoke flatly. Anthea crinkled up her nose and nodded.

"I know, I'm sorry, sir. I got carried away with a frivolous personal matter."

"The Phantom of the Opera?" Each word sounded like it hurt him to even verbalise and it made Anthea want to smile. She held her neutral mask in place well.

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry. It's never happened before and won't happen again." Mycroft's eyes narrowed as steel searched chocolate. For what, Anthea didn't know, but she always found it was easier to be open and let Mycroft search for whatever deduction he was looking for. Eventually Mycroft hummed in response and walked off into his own office. Anthea sighed and got back to work.

The duo sat in the back of the town car on their way to the Diogenes Club after a particularly boring meeting. It was one of those meetings that was really just for scheduling further meetings for when the project has actually done something. Meetings about meetings, those were by far Anthea's least favourite and the ones she had to be the most involved in. Life liked to be cruel that way. Anthea was currently taking the downtime in the car to fill in all of these new details into the day planner on her blackberry that would sync to the one on her desktop computer in the main office. Mycroft, who had previously been looking out his window, lazily pulled out his phone and checked the time.

"Anthea, I'll need you to cancel any meetings or conferences we have Friday evening after, oh let's be safe and say six." He sighed, placing his phone back into his pocket. Anthea's brows furrowed but she nodded anyway and began to clear up the schedule and send the appropriate emails. Mycroft's attention went back outside the window and silence fell amongst the car again. Once Anthea had finished sending the needed emails she hazard a glance over to Mycroft.

"May I ask why, sir? Or is it private?" Mycroft looked over at Anthea, bored expression in place. He looked her up and down once before nodding as if he just remembered what they were talking about. He dug into the breast pocket of his grey suit and pulled out a white envelope. Without a word he held it out for Anthea to take. Slowly and suspiciously she took it from his elegant hand.

Anthea examined the envelope carefully. There were no markings on the front, it was completely clean, and the back had not been closed. Perhaps she'd just been at this job for too long now, but Anthea didn't trust an unmarked envelope, even from her boss… Especially from her boss. She felt the envelope with her thumbs and found it flat. The contents were paper, then. Giving Mycroft a measured look, Anthea slowly removed the contents of the envelope.

The Phantom of the Opera.

Two tickets for The Phantom of the Opera for Friday night.

Anthea dropped the tickets onto her lap as her hands went up to either side of her forehead to rub her temples.

Two tickets for The Phantom of the Opera.

Her hands moved to cover her mouth as she leaned back to look at the roof of the car.

For Friday night.

She looked back at the tickets, hands still covering her mouth, and shook her head. Lowering her hands, she turned to look at Mycroft. He still looked bored but there was that hint of humour glittering in his dark blue eyes that betrayed some form of inner enjoyment.

"You hate musicals." Anthea stated. Mycroft's lip pulled into a small smile.

"I do."

"This was pretty much sold out."

"It was."

"You got us tickets."

"I did." Anthea stared down at the tickets again. She just looked at them as if not really seeing them. It was unbelievable. Anthea ran a hand through her brown hair.

"How?" Mycroft's small smile turned more mischievous.

"My dear, I have my ways." Jamie's blackmail comment came to Anthea's mind and she almost laughed out loud. Anthea was trying to speak, trying to verbalise some kind of coherent thought, but she was coming up blank. She looked down at the tickets again and shook her head. Anthea looked back at Mycroft.

"Why?" She asked. If it were anyone else, they probably wouldn't have noticed, but Anthea noticed the way Mycroft's brown furrowed slightly and that naughty smile dropped just a millimetre. He had not expected this question.

"Isn't that what one does for… appreciated acquaintances and colleagues?" Anthea crinkled her nose as she smiled.

"Is that what you do for friends?" She joked. Mycroft scowled and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's what you do for friends and I'd say we're pretty good friends, sir."

"Would you like me to take the offer back?" Mycroft tilted his head. "Perhaps I could take Miss Cunningham-"

"No!" Anthea jumped instantly at the mention of Charlotte's name. It was Mycroft's turn to chuckle quietly. "I'm sorry. I'll be good."

They'd left for the theatre straight after work. There had been no time to go home and get changed, no time to eat dinner first, and no time to stop for a drink. Of course, some small part of this had been done on purpose as if to hold up those invisible barriers. With their impeccable timing skills, Mycroft and Anthea had arrived just in time.

As it turns out they were only a few rows away from the stage. They were perfectly positioned for the famous chandelier crash and the thought of it made Anthea's skin tingle with excitement. This was going to be absolutely amazing. Sitting in the theatre seats she couldn't stop grinning as she looked around.

"I can't see the chandelier." She mumbled more to herself than to anyone. "Do you think they'll raise it at the beginning before they flash back in time?" Mycroft groaned. He pulled out his pocket watch.

"This is going to be torturous." He looked around and located the nearest exit – securing an escape route. "Remind me again why I did this?" Anthea tilted her head as she watched her boss. He caught her and responded with a quizzical expression.

"You're past the point of no return." Mycroft rolled his eyes. "No backward glances." She continued. Mycroft clicked his tongue as he scanned the stage.

"Quotes, my dear? Do you really wish to cause me that much pain?"

"Past all thoughts of right or wrong."

"You might as well hand me a loaded revolver. I'll finish myself off for you." Anthea laughed quietly and fought the urge to stroke Mycroft's arm in comfort.

"You'll survive." She hummed.

A pause.

"How did you get the tickets again?"

"By going against my better judgement, clearly."

It was an oddly cold night. The show had just ended and Mycroft and Anthea stood outside the theatre in the cool air waiting for Walter to turn up. Mycroft was in the middle of having a cigarette in order to recover from his ordeal. Anthea hugged her coat to her body as she hummed the songs of the play in her head, picturing the beautiful set pieces.

"Miss James," Mycroft's melodic voice pulled Anthea from her daydreams. He had an amused look under that scowl which had only just begun to fade due to the cigarette releasing the tension. "Unless my eyes were deceiving me, I believe you cried." Anthea huffed and looked at the floor. She didn't cry. She ears had gotten watery, sure, and one or two tears may have fallen, but Anthea didn't cry. She hesitated before answering.

"And what if I did?" She looked back up to her boss, chocolate meeting steel. Mycroft took one last drag of his cigarette before dropping it onto the pavement.

"I was not expecting that." His tone was light as he stomped on the cigarette to extinguish it. Anthea shrugged, pulling her coat closer to her body.

"I just hate it when they leave the Phantom in the catacombs." She sighed. "I get that he's not a good person but it's so sad." She shook her head to clear it. "The music adds to it. It's all a very sensory experience." Mycroft chuckled lightly.

"The Phantom and Christine, Heathcliff and Cathy." He mused, looking up at the stars. "Anthea James, I do believe you are a closeted romantic." He looked over to her, eyes sparkling, mouth pulled into a smile. Anthea scrunched up her nose and rolled her eyes in protest. She didn't argue verbally though, there was nothing she could say to counter him. She had read Wuthering Heights a ridiculous amount of times.

"This was amazing, sir. Thank you so much." She gave Mycroft an open and honest smile. His own expression softened and his eyes began searching Anthea's face – analysing her expression. A strong and glacial wind crashed their bodies. Anthea shivered, pulling her coat against herself once more. Mycroft removed his own coat. His hands pulled the coat open as if he were going to drape it on Anthea before he hesitated. He stopped himself, took the coat in one hand, and held it out for Anthea to take. She took it gratefully and draped it over her shoulders.

"Yes, well," Mycroft shrugged. "I've had far worse and far more disastrous nights at the theatre, I'll let you have that."

The town car pulled up to take both Mycroft and Anthea to their separate homes.

Sir, are you going to tell me how you got the tickets? – A.

They were my parents. – M.H.

Author's Note: So what do we think? Did you like it? Forgive any errors, I'm re-editing it tomorrow after sleep. I can't wait to hear from everyone. Guest reviewer thanking time! Thanks to: Corrine, Wink, and Wheezzy8. I love all my reviewers and readers. You guys are the best. Also I'm off work for two weeks so I'm going to be doing one shots and a couple of fun things during this time! This fic is priority one of course…