Author's Note: Hey guys! I'm extremely happy last chapter went down well, it put me at ease. I'm also very pleased that even though most of us side with Mycroft no one is mad at Anthea for what she wanted. Today's chapter is the idea I was going to do last time but wanted to put off in order to build it up a little. I like it so I hope you do too. 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 He Had Choice Words For Charlotte

These were the best kind of breakfasts. The ones in a quaint little café far enough from the city centre that they knew no one from work, and ran into very little of those they knew outside of work. Casual little breakfasts where they could laugh and talk, and enjoy each other. They must have looked somewhere between a teenaged couple and an old married couple with the little touches of hands across the table and shy looks away from Anthea as she laughed. This is what made them so special – this strong bond created through a long friendship mixed with the shyness of a new relationship. And Anthea loved it when Mycroft decided on a whim to try some place new for no other reason than just because. She knew it was for her, or she was the inspiration for it, because Mycroft Holmes was a creature of habit. Trying new places seemed to be a habit he'd developed when it came to free time with Anthea.

All this sweetness between them that had developed slowly but somehow came out of nowhere – it didn't help Anthea much. It only made her view Mycroft as even more special, as cuter, and certainly more attractive. He stepped out of his comfort zone for her because she could make him feel comfortable anywhere. But you know what? That was enough, for now anyway. To know that they were in the middle of not only rebuilding a good bond, but seemingly increasing it tenfold.

Of course, when you spend your time with someone with the last name of Holmes, there is no way that any day is going to go completely to plan. The name seemed to invoke issues and trouble wherever it went. Except for Siger, so perhaps it was Violet's family that was cursed and not his.

The door of the little café chimed, indicating the entrance of a new patron. Out of habit and training, and facing the entrance, Anthea looked up. Blonde hair was neatly styled back away from stunning cheekbones. Tan coat falling elegantly over her body, the only negative thing that could be said about Charlotte Cunningham this morning was that she looked maybe a little tired from grading papers or the like all night. Anthea had grown some of an appreciation for almost how opposite she was from Charlotte, with her dark colouring, and styled curls. It felt like some sort of dichotomy, like yin and yang, or an angel and a devil. Still, it didn't stop Anthea's face pulling into a deep scowl, almost contorting her soft features. Noting Anthea's expression, Mycroft curiously glanced over his shoulder as Charlotte walked passed his. Icy eyes were rolled instantly. That was new.

"Don't interact with her, dear." Mycroft widened his eyes and took a sip of his tea. "You'll play into her hands." Anthea sniffed. She leaned closer across the table and smiled at Mycroft.

"I don't even know who you're talking about." The side of Mycroft's mouth pulled into something of a proud smirk. It made the hairs on the back of Anthea's arms raise up and her own expression soften.

"Well hello, Mycroft." Anthea's dark eyes flickered up to see Charlotte standing to the left of Mycroft, arms folded across her chest, manicured eyebrow quirked. Attitude was seeping off her every pore. Mycroft clicked his tongue and pulled very subtle face at Anthea. Miss Cunningham didn't realise she was dealing with the king of attitude.

"Good morning, Charlotte." He asked as he straightened his tea cup, not even looking up at the blonde. "Heading off to work this morning?" The blonde woman's mouth pulled into a tight lipped smile.

"I am, actually." Still with the attitude. Anthea pouted her lips and raised her eyebrows as she looked down at her tea. A little bit of disdain for the woman seeping out wherever it could.

"Yes well, we're not. So if you don't mind moving along…" Mycroft sighed, flicking his hand in a sweeping motion towards the door. Oh, that was very new. Anthea, keeping a grin off her face, leaned back in her seat. Mycroft caught her biting her lip to keep the smile away. Charlotte placed her takeaway cup of coffee down in the middle of Anthea and Mycroft's table.

"I will, but I have a question first. Last weekend's M.S. ball-"

"Oh. I'm sorry, Charlotte, I'm afraid I can't help you. You see, I didn't attend that event. I've been devoting my free time to fixing my relationship with my girlfriend, thank you very much." Mycroft cut her off. His tone was sickly with false niceness, the type that purposely didn't ring true. The type the bratty girls in school used. Charlotte didn't continue right away. She licked her lips and watched Mycroft.

"I didn't attend either." She added. Mycroft turned to Anthea with an exaggerated face of pity. The sarcasm was beautiful.

"What a shame."

"And for some reason, I can't organise for a single politician to come speak to my third years."

"I've seen that lot. None of them had any future in politics, anyway." This time a laugh did escape Anthea's lips – just one. It was enough to gain a quick glare full of daggers from the blonde above her. It was somewhat satisfying.

"I was thinking to myself, why am I suddenly being black walled from anyone with influence?"

"Do keep talking, Charlotte. Anthea and I are so intrigued…" Flat face and flat tone.

"And I realised the only man I know with that type of influence is you."

A pause.

Mycroft placed a hand on his chest and silently pretended to gasp.

"Scandalous." Anthea added, smirking at him. Truth be told, she was playing cool, she was really was interested in what was being said. This was all news to the personal assistant who usually organised for many of these things to come to fruition. Had Mycroft really given Charlotte a social death? If he had, if he had made that step… Well, that would be a big deal. Charlotte scoffed, stepping closer.

"What on Earth did you do, Mycroft?" Mycroft chuckled dangerously. He folded his hands together on the table and turned to look up to Charlotte with a small smirk.

"I didn't do anything to you, Charlotte. I simply reminded you what happens when you interfere in my life. You see, there is a very small list of people I dare to care about. You hurt them and I'll see to it that the pain is matched tenfold." He titled his head. "You humiliated someone on that list publically, so I saw to it that you'd never get the opportunity to do so again."

"You don't possibly think you have that sort of influence-"

"I've already done it, Miss Cunningham. I don't have that sort of influence, I have that sort of power."

Blue eyes locked to each other, one full of anger, the other full of a smug justice. For a moment, as she stepped forward again, it looked like Charlotte might try to slap Mycroft. Like she might take her pretty nails and hit him across the face. Forever too graceful for that, the woman snatched up her coffee and stormed out like any good diva would.

Anthea couldn't quite believe what had just happened. She'd heard Mycroft threaten Charlotte on the night of the break up but she never thought he had any intentions of following through with it. Out of some sort of sense of loyalty for a bygone time she expect Mycroft to just let the stunning blonde woman go. Anthea had forgotten Mycroft wasn't your average person. Mr. "Caring isn't an advantage" only felt obligated to his family, and a few extra people who might as well be family. Anthea knew she was on the list, but a reminder this big was incredible. It made her feel lighter than air. She felt like she'd just won something.

It also spoke greatly to Anthea once again about how much she had hurt him. How much Charlotte humiliating her, had led to her hurting Mycroft. She knew it was bad, she'd cried her heart out over breaking Mycroft's heart. To have him take his little revenge, it was one of the ways he could make himself feel better.

"Anthea, you know I hate it when you stare." Mycroft's expression had some left over annoyance in it from the encounter with Charlotte. He looked tired just from interacting with someone. Anthea bit her thumbnail and crinkled her nose. She couldn't take her eyes off the genius.

"I can't help it." She sung quietly. "I love it when you get all superior and tear people to pieces. I love it even more when you're doing it to someone I hate." The hatred evaporated from Mycroft's face and his natural soft expression returned. He chuckled silently to himself and the pair returned back to their breakfast.

Or they would have, if I question hadn't been dancing around in the back of her head. A question that had been raised a little while ago and had only become more vocal once Charlotte had danced into their morning. Part of Anthea knew better than to ask about it and knew she'd be better off finishing this lovely morning as peacefully as it had begun. The other part of her knew it had to be asked eventually, for her own piece of mind. It had to be done.

Anthea placed her utensils down on her plate with a soft clang. She subconsciously took a careful breath as her eyes trailed from her plate, across the table, and up to Mycroft. Naturally he was already watching with a curious but weary look on his face knowing that she'd been thinking about something. He knew she was getting around to it and he was waiting with trepidation. To ease them both rolled her eyes teasingly at his body language. The nervousness came back almost instantaneously, and she rubbed a hand down from her forehead, passed her cheek, and down her chin. Mycroft cleared his throat and straightened up in his seat, folding one leg over the other.

"How long am I to wait until you say whatever it is that is on your mind?" He asked, pulling his pocket watch out of his pocket and checking the time for effect. "I could think of far better uses of my time." She wanted to laugh, but she didn't. Instead she sniffed and pulled a face. Anthea scratched her ear with one last attempt to procrastinate.

"Okay, listen Mycroft." Anthea sounded out of breath when she finally spoke. She looked deeply into those pair of intelligent eyes. "I'm going to ask you a question but I don't want you to take it the wrong way, or worry how I might take the answer." Mycroft licked his lips as his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I'm serious, I'm not going to ask this for the sake of an argument, I just need to know the answer. Okay?" Anthea implored.

Mycroft watched Anthea carefully.

Anthea leaned in.

Mycroft looked down to his cup of tea and began tracing the rim of the cup.

"Mycroft?"

"Fine." He'd lost the standoff as he looked back to Anthea. He kept his hands on his teacup. She wondered if it was a crutch for him, like his umbrella, or because he knew his hands had a habit of distracting her. This was Mycroft Holmes, after all. Mind games were perfected by the age of ten. Anthea looked down at her hands in her lap. It was perfect timing and she needed to know… The brunette woman looked back up at her boyfriend with an earnest look.

"Why Charlotte?" She asked quietly. "Why those other people but not me?" There was no reason to elaborate. He'd know precisely what she meant and he'd know why she needed to know. Mycroft's expressions shifted faintly under his neutral mask. His mouth pulled and his eyes fell back onto the delicate teacup. His eyes weren't truly seeing it, of course. He often stared at something while his brain worked away. The question now was, was he trying to avoid answering? Was he trying to come up with an excuse? Or was he actually considering being honest.

Mycroft unfolded his leg and pulled his chair closer to the table, face drawn slightly down to still be on the cup.

"Because I never wanted to see any of them again." It was spoken in his neutral tone – his armour protecting his emotions up in full force – but it was soft. "In the case of Charlotte and a particularly clumsy boy in my year, I was filling gaps in my knowledge. A curiosity that needed to be satiated. All the rest were fulfilling a need." His index finger tapped on the side of the cup. "I want to see you every day."

He'd finished speaking but Anthea wasn't ready to respond. She was too busy melting into a puddle in her seat. Her face was soft and full of gentleness as she looked over the awkward genius. Mycroft Holmes. The poor thing looked surprisingly venerable clinging to that teacup for dear life. The poor lonely thing on the other side of the table.

Anthea knew loneliness, and she knew it well, but she doubted she knew it anywhere as close as Mycroft did. Anthea didn't choose loneliness but in part Mycroft had from the moment he chose to shut off from anyone. Anthea knew this was going to be hard at times, her needs in a relationship being entirely different from his… if he even had any other than not getting into a relationship in the first place. But the darling thing, to see him express something from within him, to see Mycroft Holmes as he really was… It was always enough to make so much of this worth it.

He was so special, and apparently she was special to him.

Every Holmes needed a handler, didn't they? Someone to help them through the real world.

Anthea scooted her chair across to the other side of the small round table. The chair made a loud squeak, but she didn't care. She pushed her hand through Mycroft's hair and kissed his softly but passionately on the lips.

"Mycroft Holmes," She purred as she looked over the features of his face once more. The long nose, the steeled blue eyes, and that freckle on his cheek that gave him a little air of boyishness. "You know all the right things to say today." That brought a small smirk out of the man. He let go of his cup of tea, and leaned back to cross his legs once more.

"The question you now need to ask yourself, dear," He hummed. "Is whether I've been talking truths all morning or if I'm lying to placate you?" Anthea crinkled her nose and lightly hit Mycroft's arm with the back of her hand.

"I don't even care right now." She shrugged. "I just saw Charlotte Cunningham get taken down a peg, I could die happy." She folded her arms across her chest.

"Before you tell Jamie?"

"Oh, no! I've got to tell her first, than the bus can hit me." Mycroft scoffed.

"A bus? How very specific."

"I was being dramatic." Anthea laughed, taking one of Mycroft's hands in her own.

"Yes I know," Mycroft gave Anthea's hand a kind squeeze. "But wherever did you pull a bus from?"

Author's Note: So, what do we think? Alright? I had fun with it, and I think there are a few of you who have wanted something like the first half to happen for a long time. I can't wait for your reviews! Time to thank our guest reviewers. Thanks to: Anna, Yulia, Mars, Guests x2, Elaine, and Louise Pond. Ovejalucifer is still behind by a chapter or two… tsk, tsk, Camilla :P. Anyway! Thanks so much to everyone for reviewing. I love you all!