Author's Note: Hello, hello! Thanks so much for the wonderful feedback last chapter. I'm so glad you all seemed to enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It was fun to do a fight where there wasn't someone so obviously in the wrong. Today's chapter is slightly short. I still hit my 2500 word mark that I aim to hit every time. I ran out of time to write so I chose one of the ones I knew would be on the shorter side. I was really worried when I started writing but by the time I finished I was satisfied, so I hope you will be to. 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 Gave Him A Key

The continuous list of doctor's appointments and check-ups Anthea had to attend since her injury were now slowly coming to a halt, and Anthea couldn't be happier. Not only did that mean that they were satisfied with the healing process of the wound, but it also meant that Anthea's life could start to get back to normal. No more having to rely on Jamie to take her to appointments, and scheduling them around the blonde's shifts at the salon. No more trying to fit them in nicely into her own work schedule so she wouldn't miss anything important and disappoint Mycroft by leaving him with double the work to do. No more having to listen to doctors telling her that she should be taking it easier than she was. Better yet, no more lying to the doctors. She was sick of saying 'yes, of course I had all that time off. Of course I still use the chair at home.' Anthea was far too independent for all that.

She'd had an appointment with one of the private doctors and some sort of specialist today right in the middle of the morning. Anthea had worked on emails and the like from home on her laptop until Jamie came to pick her up, but Anthea could just picture that large video file she needed to decode, and those files on suspects that were sitting on Mycroft's desk that she could be going through instead of wasting her time with doctors.

Needless to say, when Jamie dropped her off, Anthea had never been so relieved to step foot in the Diogenes Dungeon. The dank and dreary place never felt so comforting and homely compared to the sterile white walls of hospitals and safe houses. Anthea leaned her crutch against the door next to the coat rack, sighing as she took in the smells of the place. The dungeon didn't smell like the rest of the club. The Diogenes club smelt of pretention. Of expensive carpet shampoo and wed wine. The dungeon was unique, it smelt of paper – the way bookstores did, and a weird mix of Anthea's perfume and Mycroft's cologne.

Glancing over to her desk, Anthea could see that it was bare. She never left anything out in the dungeon. The desktop computer sat on the desk with her orchid, but nothing else. Any file got put away, all personal items came home with her, and any pen she used came from her handbag. It added to the weird mystique Mycroft had going on here, but Anthea just didn't like leaving things here. The lack of anything on her desk right now meant those personnel file that Anthea wanted to have in front of her once she decoded that video would be in Mycroft's office. Still walking at a snail's pace, Anthea made her way over to the door that lead to Mycroft's office, did the usual knock and wait, and entered.

Sure enough as she entered the room which made the man look like a bond villain, right in the middle of his symmetrical desk, was a small pile of manila files. Those were the ones she was looking for. Satisfied, Anthea smirked to herself, and walked over to collect them. Mycroft was leaning on his hand, staring at the laptop, the screen emitting a blue light onto his face, making his frown seem deeper than it was.

"Hello, sir." Anthea sung as she approached him. He glanced up, offered her a small smile, and turned back to his work. "I'm collecting the files and getting to work."

"Good." He hummed as he typed, eyes narrowed on the screen. Amused by his focus, Anthea bit her bottom lip to stop from grinning like an idiot at her… boyfriend. She picked up the files, took one quick look at him, and turned to leave. She'd taken one step when she was stopped. "Aren't you going to inform me how your appointment went?" She rolled her dark eyes and turned around. She was going to wait until lunch to talk about personal information, but of course Mycroft expected reports the way he normally would.

"It was very good." Anthea nodded, noting that she was still talking in a professional tone. Brow furrowing as she cleared her throat, she tried again talking more casual and friendly this time. "I don't need a check-up for months now." Mycroft nodded as he continued to type.

"Good, good. I'm glad to hear that." He hummed, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he focused.

"I have to start going on short walks without the crutch." Anthea tucked a curl behind her ear with her free hand. Mycroft's hands froze over the keyboard as steel eyes flickered up to her face, his face still a neutral mask. "I have to build up my walking time slowly to get back to normal, as long as I don't push myself." Anthea watched as Mycroft pursed his lips, seemingly in deep in thought, and nodded.

"That's certainly achievable." He said. "Far better than having to follow some strict regimen." Anthea sniffed a stifled laugh, mouth pulling into a smirk again. Yeah, that sounds like Mycroft's nightmare. Even when on his strictest diet he bemoaned getting on the treadmill. He did it, but he hated it.

"Yeah, it's not bad." She laughed. She nodded lightly to the door behind her. "I've got work to catch up on."

"Ah." A quick nod. "Yes." Mycroft's attention fell back into his laptop. "Cary on, my dear."

Anthea hobbled back to her desk to finally get back to work. Finally.

"Turn off your computer and come along." Mycroft's voice whizzed past Anthea. She barely knew what was happening as the genius walked swiftly past her desk to the coat rack near the door. He picked up his umbrella, gave it a light twirl, and turn to face her, eyebrows raised expectantly. The brunette woman blinked. She looked from the door he'd emerged from, and back to him.

"I'm sorry, sir." She stuttered, shaking her head, curls dancing. "What's going on?"

"We're finished for the day." Just like that. As if she's expected to predict his every whim. Anthea could speak Holmsian, she couldn't read their minds. Still confused and with what had to be a very puzzled look on her face, Anthea quickly glanced at the time at the bottom of her computer screen.

"Five o'clock is early for you." It sounded more like a question than a statement. He nodded slowly, as if she'd said something stupid, again as if she's just expected to know what he's thinking. Geniuses could be so infuriating.

"We might as well leave early if we have to walk home." He sighed. Alright, now that was crazy. That was the least Mycroftian thing Anthea had heard come out of the man's mouth in months.

"Walk home?" Anthea parroted back at him. He was being quite patient for Mycroft.

"Your flat is a short enough distance away that we should be able to count it as your exercise." He clarified. It was one of those things that had anyone else done it, Anthea wouldn't have cared about. But Mycroft, doing something like that for her, well, it was enough that Anthea felt a warmth overcome her and she was afraid she might blush. She looked down at her desk and sniffed a laugh, feeling a little embarrassed. Once she was certain she wouldn't be blushing, Anthea looked back up. Arms folded on the desk, she leaned forward.

"You don't have to do this, Mycroft." She spoke quietly and earnestly. "You have a driver. If you don't use him he gets paid for doing nothing." Brow furrowing, lips almost in a pout, Mycroft searched over Anthea's features. He was probably working out whether she honestly didn't want his company or whether she was just being nice.

"My dear," His melodic voice came. "You quite often accompany me on walks when I'm dieting. You even go out of your way to pick healthier lunch options." Anthea crinkled her nose and shrugged playfully.

"I only do that because you're my boss." She whispered teasingly. "I get paid to be nice to you."

"Oh, no. You might even have told yourself that it was out of duty." He lectured, pointing at her with the tip of his umbrella. "But even from the beginning it came from a place of kindness. You couldn't help yourself but do something nice, and that's pathetic." He teased as Anthea scoffed, faking that she was appalled. "However pathetic it is, it's a selfish duty that now, I, as your…" He paused, lip pulling into a scowl. Anthea leaned forward on her desk.

"Say it." She teased.

"Boyfriend," The man spat the word, and Anthea snickered. "Am obliged to return." Anthea leaned back in her chair and sighed. She crossed her arms against her chest and looked Mycroft over. It was a beautifully kind offer, but it wouldn't be something he really wanted to do.

"Mycroft, you don't have to…"

"But I do." The side of the genius' mouth pulled up into a half smile. Anthea took a deep breath.

"Alright, fine." She shrugged. "But then what are we going to do with my crutch." She nodded to the coatrack he was standing in front and just to the left of. He glanced behind him and looked the object in question up and down, making one of those analyses.

"Simple." Mycroft spoke in his neutral tone as he turned back to Anthea. "I'll carry that, and you carry this." He lightly wave his umbrella towards her. Anthea gasped playfully, unfolding her arms and placing her hand on her chest.

"You don't mean…" She mocked. "That I've earned the right to hold Mycroft Holmes' umbrella for an extended period of time?" Mycroft rolled his steel eyes. "What could I have possibly done to earn such an honour?" Really, it was something that he was offering it up. It was sweet and very kind on his part. It was like a little kid giving you their favourite teddy to hold for a little while.

"It wasn't your attitude, I can tell you that." He teased back, pointing at her with the umbrella again. Anthea crinkled her nose and laughed quietly.

"Really, though. You don't have to Mycroft."

"Oh, I really do."

The walk was peaceful. It was certainly painful and hard for Anthea, and it was taking twice the time it would normally take to get to her house from the club, but it was peaceful. The streets weren't too busy and it was before the evening chill had set in. If it wasn't so hard, Anthea would almost call it an enjoyable stroll.

Mycroft didn't rush Anthea. The whole time the genius kept at her pace, slowing when she slowed, quickening if she did, and walking shoulder to shoulder with her. He even attempted small talk to try and distract her whenever her face contorted in pain or she was struggling. Now, Mycroft Holmes making small talk was a big deal. He despised it. If Mycroft was making small talk for your benefit then it meant that you were important. In fact Mycroft's patience said a lot. Not one roll of the eyes when she slowed down, not one click of the tongue if she had to stop. He'd even helped her back up once they were done sitting on a bench for five minutes.

Anthea had been very independent for a long time, with the only constant in her life being Jamie. Jamie, who back then, didn't even live in the same city for their entire lives. Anthea had learned to do everything on her own and she hated leaning on people, she despised having to admit defeat and ask for help. If she needed to lean on anyone, if anyone – other than Jamie – had to offer up their time and help her, Anthea was very glad it was Mycroft. He didn't fuss over her, he was just there. It was nice, and it was comforting in a way she couldn't explain. No wonder she'd managed to fall asleep on him at Jamie's. His presence, while off putting to most, was a familiar constant to Anthea.

How had they got here? She found herself wondering as their conversation progressed and they were talking about dinner. How had she not only befriended her boss, the Ice Man, but gotten him to the point where he offered to go pick up some dinner for them once they reached her flat. He'd told her recently that he trusted her enough to actually feel things for her. How had that happened? It should have been impossible for this to happen. Never would she have dreamed she was going to ask him the question she was about to ask him.

"Myc, I've been thinking…" She hummed, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Mmm?" He prodded her to continue as he slowly strolled down the footpath next to her.

"So we've always spent a lot of time at your place, but since we've been dating we spend more time at mine than we used to…" She trailed off again. Mycroft's eyes narrowed on the path before him.

"Do you have an issue with me visiting?" He asked in his neutral tone.

"No. Not at all." Anthea quickly answered, back peddling. The last thing she wanted was for this conversation to cause him to pull back. Sometimes it was like pulling teeth with him, and she didn't want to accidently yank out the wrong one. Sherlock and Anthea had to be the only people in the whole world that he actually visited on whim and out of his own accord. "It's nice to be at my home sometimes." She looked over at him and smiled. He looked over her featured before returning with a small forced one.

"Your point then?" He asked. She took a deep breath.

"Well, I can get in and out of your house easily. As your assistant I have the key, and security access, and all..."

"Anthea, do get to your point." Right. Well. Anthea tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

"I was thinking that maybe I should give you a key to my flat." She shrugged. Mycroft stopped walking, almost catching Anthea off guard. Apprehensive of the reaction, but more than a little pleased to be stopping again, the brunette slowly turned around to look at Mycroft. He wasn't really looking at anything as his brain ticked away. Anthea waited patiently, watching his brain working from behind his intelligent eyes. Eventually he seemed to emerge from his mind as he pursed his lips, took a deep breath, and met Anthea's gaze.

'Is this a big step?" He was genuinely asking her. Anthea shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket and shrugged.

"Kind of." She winced. "I mean, it wasn't a big deal for Tim and I, but Tim and I had done a lot more than just make out by that point." Mycroft's eyes shifted back down to the pavement for a split second, then back up. She ran a hand through her hair. "Jamie always treated it like it was a very big step." She shrugged again. "I don't know what to tell you Myc, I haven't trusted enough boyfriends to give them a key, so maybe it is." Mycroft ran his tongue over his teeth as he looked right through Anthea, thinking. He looked down at the pavement.

"It would certainly be convenient." He hummed, looking up at the buildings across the road. "And I suppose had you not already been in possession of it, I'd have entrusted you with access to my home." A pause. Anthea didn't even so much as move. Mycroft turned back to Anthea. "Only if you feel comfortable doing so, dear." Anthea burst out a laugh as the tension that had been building up was released.

"I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't comfortable with it." She scoffed, grinning at the idiot-genius.

"Well then, thank you." Mycroft hummed as he began walking again. Anthea laughed as she shook her head. "What?" He questioned her.

"You're so cute." Anthea giggled as she continued walking at her painfully slow place.

"Oh, not this again…" Mycroft mumbled bitterly.

"Again?" Anthea questioned. "You mean I've called you cute before?"

"It's a very long story, sweetheart. I'd rather not get into it."

When they got back to her flat, before Mycroft went out to get dinner, Anthea dug her spare key out of the kitchen junk draw and gave it to Mycroft.

Author's Note: There we have it, today's chapter! What do we think? I hope it was okay! Thanks to the guest reviewers; Meg22, Corrine, Guests x2, Bibliophiler123, Louise Pond, Anna, Wink, EggsBenedict, and J. Grey. I appreciate every review so very much!

The Next Myc POV: I'm still choosing a chapter, so tell me which ones you'd like to see done!