Author's Note: First of all, thanks so much for the feedback last chapter! I am so happy with how it went down. Secondly, HAPPY 2 YEARS TO AFTFE! That is insane. Absolutely insane. I have to tell you that I've enjoyed every minute of this fic with all of you. I look forward to going through season 4 and beyond with you and I hope we can keep having fun. I feel like this fic has improved my writing skills a lot from all the writing I do! This is our special anniversary chapter and it's a celebration of the fic so I hope you like it. 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 Gave In To Her Sentimental Celebrations

For once Anthea was more than happy to be woken up by the alarm on her phone. She rolled over to turn the alarm off and smiled sleepily as her eyes glanced at the date. She knew the date very well. She knew this date well, it was one of the few anniversaries she regularly remembered. It was the anniversary of when she began working for Mycroft Holmes. It was the date she walked into the office to find James behind the desk looking rather uncomfortable. The date Mycroft agreed that she wasn't like most people. The day Alice Clarke became Anthea James and her whole life changed to something thrilling, mysterious, sometimes dark but always fun. Back when she didn't know what Mycroft's natural smile looked like, back before John was in any of their lives, back before Jamie was bugging her to accept James' offer to go on a date, back before Tim, back before Anthea fell in love with a weird and very awkward genius who presented himself so calm and so well together.

Anthea lay on her back staring up at the ceiling. The ceiling of the master bedroom in that big empty house that Anthea was once surprised to find out Mycroft lived alone in. She took a moment to reflect. Where would she be now if she hadn't taken this strange job offer from the well-dressed stranger? Where would she be working? What would she be doing? She probably wouldn't even own her flat considering she bought it after everyone begged her to move after her kidnapping and she only had enough money to buy it because of her job. She probably wouldn't have met Tim even because she met him in a coffee shop close to the government office. James and Jamie would have never met, decided the other was cute, dated, got married, and be having a baby. If Magnussen hadn't blackmailed Richter to work out if Anthea was one of Mycroft's pressure points then would James have even been promoted? Would Mycroft have survived after the fall with his brother off dealing with Moriarty's web or would he have switched off all together and truly turned to ice? Would Charlotte still be queen bee in her own little world? What would have happened if Anthea wasn't there with James at the Holmes family house this Christmas to help with the Magnussen situation?

Not that she really had to ponder these thoughts but it was interesting. So much of her life now depended on accepting that job. Right down to all her close friendships. Carol, James, Molly, Mary, John, Sherlock… Mycroft. The only people who didn't depend on this job were Jamie and Robbie. If she was a bigger believer in fate Anthea would say that all this had worked out the way it was supposed to – even all the horrible stuff. That just like Sherlock and John were supposed to move in together at 221B Baker Street she was supposed to become Mycroft's assistant. That there's a set script that they must conform to. Anthea would laugh at anyone who even suggested that she and Mycroft were destined. That would be ridiculous and stupid for anyone to say. But maybe, she was supposed to take this job. That's all – accept the job and everything else would fall into place around her as she went. That is why this was one of the only anniversaries Anthea really cared about.

She sat up, feet on the carpeted floor and opened her bedside table's drawer. She dug through until she found the small thin wrapped box. She held the box close to her chest and hummed happily. For this date she always got Mycroft a gift. It was never anything extravagant or personal. When she'd bought the first one she'd been short on money so it ended up becoming a tradition of hers to just give Mycroft a typical gift one would buy for their boss or co-worker. A thermos, a watch – and not one of his pocket watches, once even a desk lamp she honestly thought suited the dungeon. It would be a gift that made Mycroft roll his eyes and let him know how much Anthea loved her job. He'd never done anything in return. He was Mycroft Holmes – he didn't celebrate trivial dates. Except last year, last year he'd given her the afternoon off even though he knew she'd most likely spend it with him anyway. It didn't matter to Anthea. This was about them as employee and employer. As a boss Mycroft wouldn't do anything and as an assistant with a sense of humour Anthea would.

Anthea snatched up her phone and stood up. She closed the drawer with her hip. Barefooted she headed out the room and made her way downstairs. As expected Anthea found Mycroft dressed minus his jacket and waistcoat, making coffee.

"Hello!" She was practically singing as she came bouncing into the kitchen. She wrapped her arms around Mycroft's waist and felt his body go ridged underneath her. It took two seconds for him to relax again.

"Oh no." He chuckled. "I hate it when you're loud in the morning." The genius continued to make coffee even with Anthea wrapped around him.

"Hey." Anthea squeezed the hug tighter and felt him tense again. "It's a special occasional."

"Precisely." He tapped the teaspoon on the edge of the mug and deposited it into the sink. "I hate special occasions and I hate noise. Ergo I hate this." Anthea muttered her false offended commentary under her breath as she let her genius go. The brunet sniffed a single laugh. With his slender hands he picked up both cups of coffee and handed one to Anthea. She accepted it with a quiet but joyful thank you. She took a moment to enjoy the aroma as it hit her nose. One thing she absolutely did love about this coffee over the instant kind was the vibrant scents. That alone was enough to wake her up. She took a sip of the warming liquid and put the mug back down on the counter. She looked up at Mycroft with eager, excited eyes and held out the small gift. The genius, mouth full of coffee, quirked an eyebrow looking bemused. He swallowed the coffee and clicked his tongue.

"Really?" He breathed. "You couldn't wait until we got to the office to give me something I have no use for?" Anthea rolled her eyes but her smile didn't fade.

"Just take the present, Mr. Holmes." She crinkled up her nose. Mycroft pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing on her face. With a deep breath as if he was preparing himself he took the small box. The wrapping paper came off without so much as a tear in it to reveal a box. When Mycroft opened the box it revealed a Montblanc pen. Extravagant and beautiful for such a mundane item – it screamed Mycroft all over. The genius' mouth pulled into a knowing smirk. He looked at Anthea with gentle deep blue eyes. "Not the worst job you've ever done, my dear." Anthea bit her bottom lip bashfully and playfully.

"I did try a little bit this time." She shrugged a single shoulder. "I might have a crush on you, Mr. Holmes. Don't tell my boyfriend."

"I won't, but he is the type to discover these things, is he not?" Mycroft practically purred. It was all Anthea could do not to entirely invade his personal space again. She needed to do something after that. So she stroked his hair and kissed him on his cheek.

"I wanted to do more than that." She whispered. "So consider that a gift, too."

"Drink your coffee."

Mycroft unlocked the door to the government office. He shoved the keys back into his coat pocket and held the door open for Anthea to walk in first. Upon entering she immediately saw the difference on her desk. It was just like the old days, when Mycroft didn't know how to communicate and left things on her desk. Sitting there in the usual spot was a bouquet of blue iris and blue hyacinth flowers.

Forgetting to remove her coat, Anthea walked up to her desk to look closer. They were beautiful and fresh – still smelling like a garden. Clearly they were delivered this morning which meant James, Walter, or a security member delivered them before they got here. They were already in a crystal vase as well. The little card from the florist was propped up against the vase. Anthea plucked it up.

A,

For your years of service.

M.

Short and simple like so many cards that had come before it. Still holding the card in her hand Anthea turned to regard Mycroft with something between a quizzical and an accusing look. The genius, in the middle of removing his coat, raised his eyebrow and pursed his lips as if he could pretend not to know what they were now. Holding the card in-between her index and middle finger, Anthea waved it in the air.

"You don't normally do nice things on this date." Anthea sounded like a lawyer questioning a witness. Mycroft nodded slowly as his coat went onto the rack.

"I know." He hummed as he walked towards her. "But I did try a little bit this time. I might have a crush on you, Miss James." He came to stand right in front of Anthea so she had to look up to meet his eyes. That smirk was a typical Holmes smirk – smug as hell. He leaned in and whispered into her ear. "Don't tell your boyfriend." And just as the shiver went down Anthea's spine did the government official begin walking away towards the kitchenette. "I'm making tea." He called out over his shoulder. Anthea blinked. She swallowed her breath as she regained her composure.

"I'm supposed to get tea in the morning." She called out after him.

"Too bad. Maybe if you weren't so easy to manipulate." He called back. Anthea heard the chink of cups being taken out of the cupboards.

"But I'd gotten biscuits for today. I was going to bring them into you."

"The gingernuts? I found them yesterday." Mycroft called out. "There's only half a pack left now." Anthea cracked up. She leaned back on her desk and just laughed. There was a time when she didn't know this Mycroft, and there was a time before she knew Mycroft at all. What would she have done without him?

As if it were the perfect homage to an average work day there was an exhaustingly long meeting on that day. One of the ones where Anthea would stop taking cohesive notes and instead doodle on her notes or play on her phone. She got through a number of levels in the latest Candy Crush game before Mycroft cleared his throat and nudged her with his elbow asking her to stop. Anthea looked up at his face and he wasn't even looking at her. He was nodding and listening, just as discrete as ever. She went back to pretending to take notes. If Lady Smallwood and the rest of his equals weren't attending this meeting Mycroft probably wouldn't have even cared if people noticed her playing a game. It was part of her persona after all; disinterested but always listening.

"If no one else has anything that needs to be discussed," As soon as Lady Smallwood began that sentence Anthea put down her pen and leaned back in her chair feeling more exhausted than if she'd done a marathon. Mycroft did his best not to smirk but his eyes glittered all the same. "Then we shall conclude today's meeting."

"I'd like to suggest," Mr. Warwick leaned back in his chair as he spoke. "That the next time we discuss something that requires MI6 participation we invite James." Another man Anthea recognised as only Porluck, having rarely heard his real name, nodded.

"It would be more reliable than assuming he'll agree to whatever we tell him to do." He said. Anthea practically snorted, gaining eyes.

"I agree, inviting James is a great idea so you have a better idea of what needs to be done." She covered her tracks, hiding the fact that she was laughing at what Jamie might have said to that earlier statement. That James would follow Mycroft's orders an almost anything.

"Anything else?" Someone else said. Mycroft leaned forward, folding his fingers together and placing his hands on the desk.

"It's not something worth discussing so much as it is something I'd like to draw attention to." He said. Anthea kept her face as neutral as acceptable in this environment, only allowing a mild level of surprise to cross her face. "Anthea brought it to my attention this morning that today is the date she signed her contract." Anthea's brows furrowed but her lips pulled into a hesitant smile. This was not normal Mycroft behaviour. The others in the room looked at her now while she kept her eyes right on Mycroft. "For almost a decade now she has been my assistant, and I think we can all agree that is no easy feat." Polite dull laughter filled the rectangular table. Anthea's smirk grew.

"Bet you're glad you didn't fire this one when she got a crush on you." The man Anthea mostly knew as Langdale joked. The hairs on the back of Anthea's neck stood up. She hadn't considered for a moment that others would have noticed. If anything they would have noticed Mycroft and her trying so badly to ignore it. Mycroft widened his eyes and pulled a face.

"Yes, but at least this one had the decency to be embarrassed about it." He sighed in exasperation. "That other one presented herself on my desk like an unwanted gift." More polite laughter. "I really should have gone to therapy after that." Mycroft added dramatically.

"And your brother didn't scare her off like what happened to that one fifteen years ago." The other lady besides Smallwood and Anthea smiled as she spoke.

"You mean the one who quit after he found a freezer bag full of fingers in the fridge?"

"Oh, Lord…" Lady Smallwood shook her head. "I'd forgotten about that one. We had to pay him off." Even Anthea actually laughed at this one.

"The point is," Mycroft straightened his posture. "Anthea has been an incredible assistant. She puts up with me on a daily basis which is incredible enough on its own but she also puts up with all of you and all the tasks she has to do with nothing more than a smirk and a sarcastic comment. She's made bonds with agents that has led to a deeper trust and communication level between us and them. She actually likes speaking to my mother when she calls the office, and most importantly it gives Walter someone to talk to so I can be left alone." Anthea sniffed a silent laugh as Mycroft smiled down at her. She couldn't really believe this. They'd had many meetings fall on this date before and he'd never done anything like this. It was so sweet, so out of character for the Ice Man. "It is for these reasons and many other's I'd like to thank the woman you know by many names for her years of service. May she always have the patience to continue." The room filled with polite applause and Anthea felt her cheeks grow hot. She looked down into her lap and grinned rather than look at Mycroft in the risk that she'd be tempted to kiss him or hug him. She didn't think she could resist it if she looked into those steely eyes any longer after those words. They meant more than these people could possibly know. As the applause died down Anthea looked up across the table and tucked her hair away from her face shyly.

"Every time he does something nice like this I become convinced he's dying." She muttered sarcastically earning her own laughter. "Either than or his brother has drugged him." Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"Say thank you for the kind gesture, Miss James." Mycroft spoke like ordering a child to say thank you. Anthea battered her eyelashes innocently.

"Thank you, Mr. Holmes, sir."

Anthea was surprised when she opened the digital schedule to add some of next month's tasks into it. As expected, the schedule opened up to this week showing each day hour by hour. Last time she checked, and she had checked earlier that day, today was busy until 6pm and they were scheduled to finish the day at 7pm. She remembered this because she remembered clearly trying to decide where they'd stop to pick up dinner on the way home. However, as it stood now the schedule showed both Mycroft and Anthea to be finishing at 5pm and a personal event added in after that.

Anthea clicked on the even to get further details. She got two essential pieces of information. The first was that the event was added an hour ago. The second was the address that this nameless personal event was apparently taking place at. Anthea copied the address, typing it into the search bar her web browser. It came up with a cinema – one that Anthea recognised instantly from the photo posted next to the name in the search engine. It was that theatre from the date Mycroft took Anthea on to make up for his abysmal attempt at a first date. The beautiful old world theatre that showed black and white French films. Then afterwards they went home where Mycroft cooked dinner. It had been wonderful. Why Mycroft had decided they were going there tonight when he didn't like anniversaries, Anthea had no idea. She pressed down on the intercom they never used.

"Mr. Holmes." Anthea called through it in a professional tone.

"Yes, my dear?"

"Myc, could you come have a look at something for me please?" She kept the professional tone and didn't even realise she had said Myc until she'd finished speaking. No response came through the intercom but Anthea knew the strange man was coming. Soon enough the door to her side clicked open and the tall gentleman walked through.

"Yes, Miss James?" He asked. Anthea pointed to her computer screen. Placing a hand on the back of Anthea's chair, Mycroft leaned in to look at the screen. He hummed and nodded.

"That old cinema?" Anthea asked, looking across to Mycroft's profile right over her shoulder. He hummed again and stood up straight. Anthea swivelled in the chair to look at him as he straightened his jacket. "Why?" She realised say that word to get an actual response.

"As you said, my dear, it's a special occasion." Anthea couldn't tell if the genius was mocking her or being serious by the tone he used. In all likelihood he was doing both.

"Yeah," Anthea gave a single nod. "One that I normally celebrate and you ignore." She said. Mycroft pursed his lips and looked to the side. "Why is it different this year?"

"Well," Mycroft exhaled. He took a moment to pull on his cufflinks and admire them. "Since I have decided that you're the person I want to spend the rest of my life with I supposed it was time to give in to some of that sentiment you people love so dearly." Spoken distantly like a true Holmes. Anthea covered her face with her hands and let both the humour, adorableness, and absurdity of the words wash over her. Why did he always do that? Why did he always declare that Anthea was the one so dryly so like a fact that there was no way to accuse him of being romantic or fanciful? It sounded more like he'd succumbed to that fact and not that he'd decided to make it so. As she uncovered her face Anthea decided to answer Mycroft the same way he had spoken to her.

"Seems like a fair adjustment." She matched his tone. They held onto each other's gaze – both of them looking like mischievous little children. Anthea glanced back over to the screen and looked at the address again. The beautiful old cinema. "So what are we seeing?" She asked Mycroft.

"The Touch of Evil." Mycroft answered, a glimmer of excitement sneaking past all his barriers. "You, me, Orson Welles, Janet Lee, and a story of murder and corruption. Doesn't that sound wonderful?" Actually, it sounded so wonderfully Mycroft. Not Ice Man Mycroft, either. Actual Mycroft. The man who named a mission Bond Air, the man who had an umbrella that was also a sword, the man who had his own villainous hide out and who quote The Divine Comedy of by heart in multiple languages.

"That sounds sexy." Anthea quirked her eyebrows. She wasn't lying – seeing the real Mycroft was always intoxicating.

"Doesn't it, just?" He looked actually happy. Oh boy, if Anthea loved Mycroft as he presented himself she was absolutely infatuated with the Mycroft hidden under everything. She looked away briefly before gesturing with a flick of her hand for Mycroft to come close to her.

"Now you actually need to give me a kiss." She whispered. Mycroft chuckled. He placed his hands on the armrests of Anthea's chair and leaned down and kissed his long-time assistant.

"Happy anniversary, Miss James."

Author's Note: How did that go? Did you like it? I really hope so! Seriously guys, I can't thank you enough for supporting this fic and giving me people to geek out with over Sherlock. Thank you! Thanks to our guest reviewers: Sophie, Madalina, Guest, and Mollyrcmoo. Thanks to all my readers and reviewers. You are THE BEST. If you don't read the other thing I posted today, though I suggest you do, then I'll see you in five days!

Myc POV Chapter: THE FIRST TIME Myc's POV is up on my profile and ready to be… read. I wrote it after work each night this week and strived hard to get it done in time for this anniversary. It's just for you guys! Do check it out :).