Author's Note: Hello everyone, how are we? Thanks very much for the feedback last chapter. I thought you might like a little break in constant tension and darkness. Also thanks to everyone who read the James one shot. Anything you need to know about this chapter? No, not really. I'll just let you read. 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 Didn't Have To Leave In The Morning

It was a peaceful Boxing Day afternoon and evening at Jamie's house. It was full of worry and concern, but the house was peaceful and had an aura of calm to it. Anthea put that down to Jamie. James was a happy soul yes, but he worried deeply for those closest to him. He barely kept himself together when Jamie was missing. Anthea always had Mycroft in the back of her mind – wondering what he was doing, wondering if he'd eaten again that day. Jamie did what she knew she could do and kept an eye on the people in the house. She kept the left overs brought back from James' parents' house flowing. The most recent food was Christmas ham in bread rolls. She kept the hot drinks coming, the alcohol ban in place since she didn't want to be the only one not drinking. She had tried to place a Christmas hat on Thatch but the puppy kept shaking it off his head and then running around chewing on it which created a decent amount of levity. They also pulled out all the old Christmas movies and were watching them. Jamie might not be in a position of power to help in ways that others could, be she was a very strong girl and she knew how to look after people. Sometimes it was nice to have a relatively normal person in the group. One who didn't care about politics or dangers. One who just cared about those around her.

Anthea was in the middle of playing fetch with Thatch's Christmas hat with Jamie when her phone rang. It was becoming an increasingly common occurrence to be interrupted doing mundane activity by far less mundane phone calls. James focused on the television and tried to pretend he didn't hear the phone while Anthea and Jamie exchanged a quiet look. Anthea threw the little dog hat across the room to Jamie and picked up her phone to look at the number. It was Mycroft. It had to be Mycroft. No one else would call today except maybe a family member but if they didn't call yesterday they weren't calling today. Anthea looked up at the owners of the house. James was still determined to look at the television while Jamie was trying to get Thatch to jump onto the couch to get the hat. Anthea could tell that she was listening closely though. Anthea shook out her head like she was shaking out her curls, preparing herself for whatever the phone call may hold.

"Hello." She answered in a measured tone. Not too happy, not too serious.

"Hello, my dear." Despite the lack of enthusiasm in his voice, in fact he still sounded exhausted, those words tugged at Anthea's heartstrings. When nothing else followed Anthea tried to prompt the conversation without asking what would be deemed an obvious question.

"How did the visit go?" She asked, using the same careful voice for Mycroft's benefit. She heard a deep inhale.

"Hmmm…" Was the only response she received. Anthea's brow furrowed. Jamie's faint turn in Anthea's direction meant she noticed.

"Is he okay?" Anthea asked, trying to keep any panic or concern inaudible.

"For now, yes." Mycroft droned. "He's…" He stopped. Anthea could imagine him running a hand through what remained of his hair. "We'll talk about it later. When something can be done." Anthea clenched her teeth and swallowed her breath. Jamie cocked her head to the side, questioning and Anthea winced in return. James pretended not to notice.

"Okay…" Anthea answered. Her voice was soothing and calm. For a good minute all Anthea could hear on the other side of the phone was tapping. What was that tapping? Was it fingers on a desk? Was it the umbrella on some type of flooring?

"Anthea, I…" He stopped himself again. Anthea closed her eyes.

"Don't shut off." She prompted. The tapping on the other end stopped.

"I'll leave in the morning as per your wishes…" She got where he was going, or what he was tiptoeing around rather. He still couldn't stand to be alone. He didn't want to go to the big empty house alone. So much so that he was asking for an invitation to come to James' house. Like James or Anthea would ever say no. Like Jamie, given the circumstances, would ever say no.

"Sure!" Anthea sat up in her seat. "Sure, sure. Come over. We've had dinner already but there's lots of food." Finally James looked over in Anthea's direction with his eyebrows raised.

"Never mind all that." He dismissed her. "Thank you."

"I'll see you soon." Anthea said warmly, her insides wishing she might have said something else. Jamie relaxed into the couch, Thatch snuggling on her lap chewing the pompom on the end of the Santa hat.

"Momentarily."

Click.

Anthea looked down at the phone in her palm.

"Myc needs to come over." She breathed. Jamie cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips.

"Told you, Ali, that's fine." She answered in her ever chirpy voice. James heaved a heavy sigh and lazily got off the couch. He stretched his long back and wandered off in the direction of the kitchen. "Hey! Where are you going?" Jamie asked, her hazel eyes following her husband. James pointed to the kitchen with his thumb.

"I'm going to go open one of those expensive bottles of scotch." He sounded surprised by the questioning, like a dear caught in headlights.

"Why?" Jamie frowned. "What happened to 'only on special occasions when you can't, cupcake'?" James laughed at his wife's bad imitation of him.

"It's not for me! I'm opening it in case Holmes wants a drink but doesn't want to feel like he's in the way by opening a bottle." James explained, turning back and heading into the kitchen. "You and I don't even like this. We only buy it for the stupid expensive taste of the Holmes office." Jamie pulled a face at Anthea and Anthea smiled bashfully.

When the doorbell rang through the warm house it was silently decided that Anthea and Anthea alone would answer it. She was what the visitor was seeking after all. Anthea smoothed down her shirt and flicked any dog hair she could possibly get off her trousers without getting a fluff brush onto them. She tossed her curls behind her shoulders and opened the door.

Mycroft looked better than he did this morning and that was a small victory at least. Dressed in a fresh suit with his hair back he looked more human than when Anthea left him to have a shower as she returned here. He looked like he'd been punched in the gut with a cannon but there was also a little more resilience behind those deep intelligent eyes. Perhaps a few words with Sherlock had managed to put a little fight back into the older Holmes brother. Maybe his brother insisted there was nothing Mycroft could do and that was enough to make Mycroft think about what he could do just to prove his brother wrong. Anthea could not ignore the tiredness, however. The look of utter distain for being in the realm of the living. Even when he put on his polite tight lipped smiled it looked falser than it ever had before. Yet Anthea gave him one in return.

"Hey." She greeted gently in a sweet tone. She let him through the front door and closed it behind him. The front door let them straight into the living room but Anthea chose not to acknowledge James and Jamie, just like they chose not to make a notice of Mycroft until Anthea was done. "Do you want something to drink?" She asked, cocking her head to the side. Mycroft pursed his lips. A quick scrunch up of his nose dismissed her polite invitation to James' expensive alcohol or even a drink of water.

"All I want is some peace and a place to think." The genius told his personal assistant as he looked her deep in her dark eyes. "I don't care if you want to read, or watch a movie, or listen to that silly music of yours." It was almost a joke and enough to make Anthea crack a natural smile. "I just want to clear my mind." Like he had been this morning? Anthea quirked an eyebrow.

"You want to lay on my single bed with me while I read or something?" She laughed as she spoke. Mycroft Holmes with all his space issues. How he fights not to flinch at certain touches, how he acts like hugs are a chore, and now he asked to lay in a single bed while she makes whatever noise she wants. She didn't even want to start on how important his quiet and solitude during his thinking time was. Mycroft held his steadfast gaze and nodded. Yes. That was all he wanted. Anthea jutted out her bottom lip in thought and nodded. "Okay." She answered. "I have been looking for some time to read Great Expectations." Jamie had lent it to her. It had been sitting on the bedside table for about a week now untouched.

"Good." It was undecipherable. It was a mixture of a sigh, a purr, and a hum. Like it fulfilled so many needs and offended him in many ways all at the same time. With Mycroft, Anthea would not be surprised. Anthea lightly took Mycroft's hand in her own, the one not brandishing an umbrella, and began leading him to the stairs. James didn't say anything, he knew the boss was here for some solitude and James was not going to interrupt that for him. Jamie smiled at Mycroft as he walked past. He nodded in return.

"He was scared." The few words came after at least an hour of silence. Without saying a word in return, Anthea placed her book down on her chest, folding her hands on top of it, and just listened. She didn't turn to look at Mycroft like he didn't turn to look at her. He was looking out the window and she chose to look at her clothes on the floor. It felt a little like a confessional – the way you never saw who you were confessing to. "He was angry in that irrational way he gets when he's scared." Mycroft continued to reflect. "He's not scared of prison. He's never feared such conventional things." Anthea licked her lips to stop from smiling at that. "He's afraid of what the lack of stimulation will do to him." Anthea glanced down at her hands. Her nail polish was still almost perfect, having applied it for the holidays. Only the thumbnail on both hands had a chip out of it from biting it over the last few days.

"I think anyone who knows him is afraid of that." Anthea agreed. Silence lulled back in but Anthea did not pick up her book. She knew the confession wasn't over yet. She'd just wait for the genius to continue.

"Death would be kinder." He finally spoke again. Anthea flinched lightly and almost hissed Mycroft's name. Such a cruel thing to say for an average person. But that's not what one does in these situations. "Better he die with an active and fulfilled mind than to rot away and destroy himself." And then she got it. Anthea felt her whole being deflate as she exhaled. She looked over to meet Mycroft's eyes and she was certain the same level of sadness that were in his were reflected in hers.

"You're talking about that mission, aren't you?" She asked. "With the estimated time of six months and no expected returns." Mycroft's expression was flat and unchanging.

"It would be better for him. He'd suffer less."

"What about you?" Anthea asked. "What about John?"

"I've seen him suffer enough at his own hands to last me a lifetime." His time was as unchanging as his face. "I'd rather not put John through that as well." Without even thinking about what she was doing Anthea placed her hand on the side of Mycroft's face and gingerly stroked the soft skin with her thumb.

"I'll look into organising a meeting as soon as possible." She spoke the words like speaking words of adoration to a long lost lover. Mycroft lifted Anthea's hand off his face and held it in his own hand. He looked over her knuckles, her fingernails, and he stroked the top of her hand.

"It's for the best." He brought her hand up to his face again and place his lips against her knuckles. The hairs on the back of Anthea's neck stood on edge but this was no time to think of the electricity that existed between them.

Anthea moved just a little bit closer next to Mycroft on the bed and continued reading.

By nine the next morning they were both up. Nine was an acceptable time to Anthea's standards. It meant that Mycroft was more willing the face the world today. It meant maybe he had found some resolve and no longer needed to hide out forever. Or at the very least it was a nice step in the right direction. He was sitting on the end of the bed putting his shoes back on. Anthea sat up on her knees, her feet touching the pillows.

"Leaving?" She asked.

"Well I presumed you'd make me." Mycroft drawled as he tied up his laces. A ping of guilt tickled at the back of Anthea's mind. She had to remind herself she was absolutely justified in that rule before. Now, however. Could she risk this step in the right direction by sending him to either the big empty house or the looming silence Diogenes Club?

"But, sir, you haven't eaten in almost 24 hours." Anthea played. "And Jamie has a stoked fridge. What kind of host would I be if I let you go without feeding you?" Mycroft pulled a face as he sat up straight. Anthea cocked her head to the side. "You're not hungry?" She questioned his look. He ran his tongue over his top teeth and hummed.

"Perhaps a little." The brunette man relented.

"You know what we should make?" Anthea raised her eyebrows, a wry smile on her lips. "We should make omelettes." Mycroft's expression fell dramatically as he rolled his eyes. "Jamie has mushrooms, peppers, tomatoes, all sorts of great ingredients."

"You can't cook an omelette." Mycroft scoffed.

"I can." Anthea nodded. Mycroft quirked an eyebrow.

"One that actually looks like an omelette?" Anthea scrunched up her nose and chose not to answer that. Mycroft chuckled.

"I should really cook for James and Jamie, anyway." Anthea still bypassed the question. "They're always cooking for me."

"Because Jamie can actually cook, my dear." Mycroft spoke down to her. "And James… well, he follows orders well and I assume that follows through to reading instructions on a recipe."

"Fine." Anthea shrugged with one shoulder. "You can cook and I can be your beautiful assistant. I looked better modelling measuring cups anyway." The light that flickered into Mycroft's eyes was worth anything that might transpire in the kitchen.

"That sounds… doable."

There's no way to tell what James and Jamie must have thought was happening in the kitchen when they came down that morning. The shrieks and laughter from Anthea's part, and yelling and chiding from Mycroft could be heard all the way up the stairs.

"What are you doing!?"

"You told me to add the mushrooms!"

"Not that many mushrooms!"

"I like mushrooms."

"Do you also like egg? Because at this point its mushrooms and various other ingredients coated in a light basting of egg."

"Stop exaggerating."

"Stop trying to make me react!"

Thatch came down ten minutes before his owners, ears back and growling. The little dog seemed bent on protecting whoever was causing Anthea and Mycroft distress. Upon seeing nothing but familiar faces smiling the dog gave up. He wagged his tail and barked at Mycroft happily. Mycroft used the spatula in his hand to gesture to the small brown and black dog.

"See, even Thatch is distressed by your poor judgement in the kitchen." The dog just happily smiled up at them. Anthea rubbed under Thatch's stomach with her foot.

"I think he just wants food."

"Well he can have this one." Mycroft scoffed. Thatch barked again. Mycroft looked down at the little dog and nodded as if the dog had agreed with him.

"What is going on down here?" Jamie entered the kitchen with James behind her. Both, unlike Mycroft and Anthea, were still in their pyjamas. James' blonde hair spiked in all directions that it reminded Anthea so much of the style Tim would spend half an hour trying to achieve.

"I warn you, I'm no good at breaking up fights until I've had coffee." James followed Jamie into the room as far as the fridge. He opened it in search of the milk. Not finding it he glanced at the counter.

"I'm well aware, James." Mycroft rolled his eyes. One or two stories behind the roll of those blue eyes and the nervous smile James gained.

"Mycroft doesn't think I'm a very good sous-chef." Anthea explained to Jamie. The blonde woman sat down as she mimed an 'ah'.

"I hate to agree with Einstein, but you're not." Mycroft smiled sarcastically at Anthea when Jamie agreed with him. Anthea mocked being hurt, gasping and placing a hand on her heart.

"Hey, you're cooking breakfast?" James, distracted by making coffee, just noticed. "Cool."

"Yeah," Anthea nodded. She went to pick up the sliced tomato only to have her hand swatted away. "Repaying you guys a little." She scrunched up her nose at Mycroft. He ignored her. "Jamie can have this one."

"You can't feed a pregnant woman this abomination!" Mycroft hissed. Jamie instantly fell into a fit of laughter. "You can eat your own mess and sit down." He scolded her before waving in James' direction with the spatula. "James, here. You're assisting now." The agent, stunned, blinked and looked around the room.

"Yes, sir." He blurted out, holding his cup of coffee close to his chest. Anthea was pushed away from the stove with the plate containing her botched omelette. Smiling to Jamie, she shrugged and sat down next to the blonde at the kitchen table. Thatch was more interested in what the men were doing than in Anthea's food.

Given everything that had happened lately, given all the disaster that had befallen Anthea and those around her, this felt really nice. This felt very happy. What was it? Was it the cooking? The happy little dog? His equally happy owners who kept Anthea going? Or the man spitting out orders to everyone and acting like only the dog understood him? If Anthea could isolate this moment and remove all the extraneous circumstances, she would. If she could forget that Sherlock was in trouble, help Mycroft forget the weight on his shoulders, forget that she was single, and live forever in this moment in the kitchen the day after Boxing Day she would do it. It was like the eye of the storm. The break that let you feel okay. It was lovely.

Author's Note: So? Did you enjoy it? It felt well timed for this to happen here. I hope you liked it. Thanks to our guest reviewers: CoffeeRanger, Christie, Guest, Eva's dreaming and Wheezzy8. It's great to hear from a lot of you again. Thanks to all my lovely reviewers – I love you all! I'm very much enjoying having time to write again so I'll see you all with an update in five days! Let me know what you thought of this chapter!