Author's Note: First of all, thank you for all the wonderful feedback last chapter. I know most of you wanted Jamie to punch Mycroft but if she did she'd never be allowed in his house again. Secondly, thank you to those who knew for allowing me to have an extra two day break. For those of you who didn't know and were wondering where this chapter was, I'll tell you. After the big two chapters I was feeling very uninspired to write and I needed a break to get some creative juices flowing. I also really like my "every four day" schedule but if it were to stick to the path I was on it was going to interfere with seeing my friend from a different state this weekend, my weekend away next weekend, my operation, and my birthday plans. By moving it over two days all those issues have been fixed. So now we're back to every four days. Thank you very much for being understanding. I hope I didn't drive you crazy :P. 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 Arrest

Mycroft slid into the black town car, shutting the door gently. Anthea didn't even glance up from her blackberry as her boss entered the car. You could argue that she was still holding a grudge by choosing not to look up and smile, she'd argue that she was being as professionally distant as Mycroft had always wanted her to be. The car hummed to life and began to head to the Diogenes club office – the dungeon. Only once she was satisfied that she'd been silent for long enough, being silent – not ignoring him, did Anthea speak up.

"Talk went well?" She asked lightly, quirking a single eyebrow as her dark eyes remained on the screen of her phone. Out of the corner of her eye, Anthea saw Mycroft spare her a quick glance before pulling out his own phone and busying himself, umbrella still in one hand.

"Yes, thank you." He sighed, tone more reflective of whatever he was reading than of the subject at hand. It seems they were both playing distant today. "I have scheduled a meeting with his people on Saturday afternoon at two." Anthea's eye twitched as her thumbs paused in the middle of typing out an email. She smiled sardonically to herself and very faintly shook her head.

"Sir," She breathed, forcing her eyes to remain on her phone. "I'm not available then, we have meetings at eight so I'm going at one." Mycroft sneered, pocketing his own phone and turning to the window.

"Really, my dear? You're going to continue with this half-day nonsense?" He sighed, this time directed at her. Anthea looked up and cocked her head, thumbs still frozen over her phone.

"No, not nonsense, sir." She had to stop herself from scoffing. "This was part of my deal, and I'm sticking to it. Plus," She shrugged. "I have plans."

"Plans, you?" He turned to look at her, face full of a mixture of amusement and being sick of the conversation already. Anthea nodded.

"Yeah, me, sir."

"With who?" He scoffed. Anthea's upper lip twitched into almost her own sneer as she turned back to finish typing the email.

"A friend from my old job." Mycroft chuckled lightly as he twirled his umbrella.

"Your old job? The one where you were unstimulated every single day and found the people drab and annoying?" Amusement and sarcasm were clear in his voice. Anthea took the time to finish the email, finally, before turning to face her boss, arms crossed against her chest.

"She was nice." Anthea conceded. "I need more nice people in my life." That got his attention. Steel eyes flashed to meet hers. He held them for a moment, deducing whatever or working through something of his own, right now Anthea didn't care which. After a moment Mycroft pouted, turning back to the umbrella.

"You're right, my mistake." He was using his professional tone to cover up something, Anthea could tell. "Pardon my thoughtlessness, I can easily handle those people on my own." As Anthea turned back to her phone she wasn't quite satisfied with her victory. Whether it was always going to feel like a hollow win, or if it was Mycroft covering up a natural reaction, she wasn't sure. All she knew was there was a pit in the bottom of her stomach.

"You can eat them alive." Anthea's lip twitched into a half smile. "Why do you need me there as a glorified note taker?"

"But my dear, your handwriting is so much prettier than my own." As the lightly sarcastic response came her way, Anthea felt the pit in her stomach dissipate slightly. Only slightly.

God, why are ordinary people so boring?

Anthea was very aware of how much her inner monologue was starting to sound like Mycroft's. She was currently somewhere between tipsy and inebriated, with her chin resting on the bar, staring at her glass of scotch. Her friend Hayley from her old work had been talking about her upcoming wedding for the last two hours straight.

I'd rather be in that meeting with Mycroft, trying to make him laugh while everyone acts seriously.

Anthea heaved out a breath as she traced patterns into the condensation of her glass with the nail of her pinkie finger. The Holmes brothers had ruined normal people for her and John. Probably for Molly, too, hence her habit of liking sociopaths.

"Alice?" Wait, that was her real name, wasn't it? And that was Hayley's voice, wasn't it? Lazily, Anthea turned her head so she could just make out Hayley sitting on the stool to her right.

"Hmm? What?" Anthea frowned, trying to focus on the here and now rather than being lost in her own thoughts.

"I asked you if you're coming. You haven't R.S.V.P.'d." Ah, she was still on the wedding. Anthea rolled her eyes as she sat up in the stool and took a sip of her scotch.

"You probably don't have my current address." She shrugged. "I'll text it to you. I'll need to make sure the day works fine with my schedule." It probably would, with this new weekend arrangement, but really, Anthea didn't want to go. Not if it meant seeing everyone from her old job and listening to them talk about boring work. The good news was, though, the old boss was gone. That jerk needed to go ages ago.

"No one at the office said you moved." Her old friend pouted. Anthea rolled her eyes.

"That's because I didn't tell them. I didn't tell many people, it kind of slipped my mind."

"You loved your place." Hayley interjected. Anthea pursed her lips. She took the last sip of her scotch and gestured silently for a refill.

"Yeah, I did." She answered. "A couple of friends convinced me to move after something bad happened."

"What happened?" I was kidnapped…. Years ago.

"Ah, nothing serious." She shrugged, handing the bartended her money.

"When we get married, we're moving to…" Anthea wasn't entirely sure where the conversation went from there, she zoned out after the 'm' word. She'd happily listened to it for the first hour, but now it was getting ridiculous. Anthea once again entertained herself with her glass as her friend continued to talk – zoning in and out of the conversation. That is, until she caught wind of another conversation.

"Can you believe he paid an actor to play Moriarty?"

"Really?"

Anthea perked up as her ears prickled. She held up a finger to silence Hayley, forgetting she wasn't from the office or an agency and would find this rude instead of normal behaviour.

"Yeah. The poor actor got arrested and everything. Sherlock Holmes was a maniac." Anthea frowned at the voice.

"Hey, sorry, Haley. Look, I'll be right back. I hear someone talking trash about Sherlock Holmes." Anthea mumbled as she fell out of her stool.

"You liked him? Me too." Anthea sniffed as she smiled to herself.

"Yeah, kind of." She muttered in response as she began to walk purposefully in the direction of the conversation. Drunk courage, or just courage from years of working in dangerous situations, Anthea walked right up to the couple. She leaned on the bar and looked the man up and down. The girl pulled a face and sized Anthea up.

"Ummm, can we help you?" She spoke down to Anthea. She had way too much make up on. She was nearing thirty and still trying to dress like a teenager. Her black hair had that artificial sheen that came out of a bottle. The man's, funnily enough, was the same bottled colour. It was like a matching pair. "Because he's with me." The woman stroked the man's chest. Anthea's smirk grew.

"Yeah, you can keep him." She hummed. "I just heard what he was saying about Richard Brooke not actually being Moriarty and I felt the need to come over and tell him what I complete and utter imbecile he is." Anthea's face was sardonic and calm, very much a work expression she'd picked up. The girl gaped her mouth open. Like a goldfish. The man puffed his chest up like a chimp.

"No, you're the idiot if you fell for that genius routine. I saw through it from the beginning." He might as well pee all over the bar to prove his dominance. Anthea tilted her head to the side.

"Oh really?" She asked. "And how did you work that out before anyone else?" The man looked at his date and laughed, she smiled back.

"No one is that smart." It was Anthea's turn to laugh. Anthea had dealt with the Holmes family, she'd seen Moriarty's boredom with the world, and looked into Magnussen's cold eyes.

"Really? Because I've met… Let's see… Three, four, five people that smart before. They're all weird, but they have all been that smart. Two of which include Sherlock Holmes' mother and brother." It was her turn to puff her chest a little. The man shrugged, picking his beer off of the bar.

"Maybe that's the problem." He spoke into the mouth of the bottle. "Maybe the psycho was desperate to be loved by Mummy so he faked it. The brother is lucky he didn't get murdered." Anthea felt fire prickling up her neck as the girlfriend began to cackle. Swiftly, before anyone could see and react, Anthea punched the alpha-male in his jaw. The shock made him drop his beer, the bottle shattering with a loud crash, as the girlfriend – or date – gasped. The guy touched his jaw, looking at Anthea with disbelief. "You little bitch." He muttered. Anthea smiled a Mycroft brand smug smile at the jerk.

"Develop a double digit IQ between the two of you before you go making up conspiracy theories."

"You hit my boyfriend!" The woman screeched at Anthea. Ignoring how her voice pained Anthea's ears, Anthea pursed her lips and with one should gave a lackadaisical shrug.

"Yeah, well. Sometimes the only way to get through to stupid is by whacking them on the side of their head." The woman stepped forward and pushed Anthea on her shoulders, sending her back into the bar with her lack of balance.

"Maybe someone should whack you on the side of your head. Teach you some manners." Recovering from her slight collapse, Anthea stood back up straight, she laughed jovially.

"Yeah?" She challenged the woman-child.

"Yeah!" The woman nodded, nodding her head once.

"Babe, it's okay." The idiot placed a hand on his dates shoulder but she quickly shrugged it off. He was all but forgotten by now, it seems.

"What are you going to do?" Anthea cocked her head to the side, looking the woman up and down. She noticed the nails with extravagant nail art, including a single diamanté on each nail. "Use your claws to scratch me. I'm so scared."

The next thing Anthea knew was a shine of diamanté fingers as a hand came hurtling towards her face.

The officer pulled the door to the holding cell open. It was not someone Anthea knew, but they did not look horribly unfriendly. Anthea blinked the sleep out of her eyes, waiting in silence for the officer to speak first – best not to appear unruly and incompliant while still a little buzzed. That would only lead to more issues.

"Alright, Miss Jane Doe, you're free to go." The man gestured back in the direction he'd come from. Anthea frowned to herself.

"What?" She asked, rubbing her eyes with her hands. "But it's only been… An hour and a half." The officer gave her an incredulous look, wondering how she had done that. Anthea smiled playfully. "You don't want to know." She shook her head. He was probably already wondering how she'd gotten away with not giving her name once they'd seen one of the security passes in her bag. The officer shook away his confused look and shrugged it off.

"Seems like you have friends in high places. You're free to go and charges won't be filed by the other party if you don't either." Anthea ran her hands through her hair. Friends in high places. That could be someone here, or someone from work. If work found out about this that could be dangerous. With a heavy sigh, Anthea reached out for her heels to place them on her feet. She stood up and stretched out her lower back.

"Alright, thanks officer." She sighed with a fake smile and followed the officer.

Any question Anthea may have had about who her friends in high places might have been were answered as soon as she entered the public section of the police station. Leaning on his umbrella, looking positively perturbed was Anthea's boss – Mycroft Holmes. He almost ground his teeth together as he looked Anthea up and down, deducing her, disapproving on her actions. Anthea pursed her lips and looked down to the dirty carpeted floor.

"Hi, sir." She muttered. Mycroft didn't respond right away. His eyes narrowed as he continued to look her over. She waited patiently. Eventually he huffed, turning sharply on his heels.

"Come with me." He snapped, heading towards the door.

No words were spoken as they left and got into his car. It was only after Anthea got sick of watching the street lights race past did she open her mouth again. Carefully she looked over to him. His jaw was sharp, clenched tightly shut, eyes cold as he focused on the road.

"How did you find out, sir?" Anthea asked in a very carefully selected quiet voice. The visible tension in Mycroft's neck increased as he took a deep breath but did not answer. Anthea bit her bottom lip. She took that to mean he wasn't going to speak to her yet. She tucked a mattered curl behind her ear as she turned to watch the street lights once again.

It turns out that Mycroft was not driving her home. Or rather he was, but to his home, and not hers. They pulled up outside his front door. Without a word Mycroft got out of the car and went to his door, pulling out his house key. Silently Anthea followed a few steps behind him.

She followed him as he made quick steps towards the kitchen. As he switched on the kettle and began going through his cupboards – a little louder than usual – Anthea took the opportunity to sit down at the bench and take off her heels once more. She watched through hazy vision as Mycroft got out two mugs and made two cups of tea. He came over to the opposite side of the counter to face is assistant, sliding the cup of tea over to her. She forced a smile in thank you as she took up the cup. They sipped their tea in silence as Anthea avoided eye contact and Mycroft stared her down. He placed his cup down and pushed it to the side before folding his hands together on the counter.

"To answer your question," He began, raising his eyebrows. "One of Lestrade's men saw you. She called him, he called me, and I made multiple calls." Chocolate eyes rose to meet steel blue. Mycroft's stony expression turned into a scowl. "What were you thinking?" He rose his voice.

"It's not my fault." Anthea rose her voice back defensively. "The guy-"

"I know what they were talking about, Anthea." Mycroft cut her off, looking down at her. "I did speak to them. Why do you think it took me an hour and a half to come collect you?" Anthea shut her mouth and lulled into a silence as her thoughts rearranged. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it again, letting out a heavy breath through her nose.

"I was bored, and drinking, and I heard someone saying something bad about your brother. What was I supposed to do? Let them." Mycroft unfolded his hands to allow one to come up and rub his left temple.

"You do remember that this fake genius nonsense was part of the plan in the first place, don't you." They'd barely begun talking and Mycroft already sounded exasperated.

"I know, but-"

"But what? You will ruin our hard work." Anthea jumped out of her seat.

"I can't stand hearing people talking about your little brother that way!" A quick quiet moment passed by as each person searched the other one's eyes.

"And I appreciate that, my dear, I do," His was talking quietly and calmly now, like talking to a patient at the hospital. "But do you think I can stand it any more than you can?" He waited for a response. Anthea pouted and shook her head. "We're going to have to learn to live with it. Instead of flinging insults and punches take solace in the fact that you are one of the few people who know better." Anthea huffed as she rolled her eyes.

"Why are you always right?" She muttered, looking away. "I hate it." One of Mycroft's tight lipped fake smiles crossed his face as he once again quirked his eyebrows at his assistant, this time in some form of bemusement.

"And now we get to the root of the issue. " He all but sung. She looked up to meet his eyes once more. "The pent up aggression and resentment towards me." Anthea felt that pit in her stomach again.

"I don't resent you." She breathed. Mycroft's fake smile widened.

"Oh, but you do." He nodded once. His face pulled back into a serious expression. "We can't continue with you taking every opportunity to make little defiant stances." He levelled with the brunette with the messy curls. "Eventually I will have to fire you if this keeps up." Anthea looked down to her hands. "I've apologized, my dear. There isn't much more I can do." She nodded, eyes fixated on her hands.

"I know. I just need a little more, time, sir. I'm sorry." She sighed. "I don't hate you, though." He eyes shot up. "Not even a little bit."

"Mmm." Mycroft hummed, wry smile returning. "The fact that you punched a man about triple your bodyweight this evening for insulting my brother does at the very least prove that." Anthea sneered and rolled her eyes. Mycroft chuckled as he picked up his cup to place it in the sink.

Author's Note: So? What do we think? Did you like it? Are you glad Anthea hadn't just let it slip since I know a lot of you were annoyed at her coming back at the three week point? I hope it wasn't a serious let down after the last two chapters – I'm very fearful of disappointing you after having a couple of days off. I hope it was decent :). Alright, time to thank the guest reviewers from last chapter! Thanks to: Britta, Guests x4, Enomisje, bgeiner, Anon, Wink, Corrine, sweetpea, Lemon (who is a friend in real life who hasn't even seen the show!), and Wheezzy8. I love every reviewer and every reader so very much!