Author's Note: Hi everyone! Thanks for the nice reviews last chapter. Looks like we all liked the return of some office stuff. I honestly JUST finished writing this chapter. I finished two huge assignments this weekend and wasn't going to push myself to get this done but then I just did anyway. I hope you like this one. It takes place only a few days or so after last chapter. 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 Met Varya Vernet

To be honest, Anthea was a little surprised. She hadn't expected to see Mycroft arguing on the phone so soon after returning back to work. She thought it would take at least a month for him to get this annoyed at someone. Apparently not. Mycroft walked into the office, his coat and gloves on, and phone to his ear. He was scowling at whoever he was arguing at. Whoever it was had to be especially incompetent. Anthea sat at her desk, hands frozen over the keyboard and watched.

"No. Absolutely not. I am a very busy man, it just isn't possible." He sounded exasperated, he must have been on the phone for a whole. Anthea licked her lips to keep from smirking. The umbrella went into the umbrella stand attached to the coatrack.

"Well it's not my fault you're not intelligent enough to have the foresight to book me ahead of time. You knew I was having a month off and when I returned it would be chaos." Mycroft held the phone to his ear using his shoulder as he took off his gloves.

"Make an exception for you? Why on earth would I ever do such a thing?" He took the phone back in his bare hand. His eyes caught sight of Anthea. He rolled his eyes about the person on the phone and Anthea snickered. He almost smiled back at her when the person on the other end said something that made him sigh with his whole body.

"Fine. Fine. Afternoon tea is all I'll offer. No dinner or lunch. Perhaps you'll learn your lesson this time." He ran his hand through his hair and subconsciously shook his head.

"Me!? I dare you to name one time." Anthea frowned. This conversation was beginning to sound less like a dressing down and more like a fair argument. Mycroft scoffed.

"That does not count." He pouted. "No it doesn't, because I was purposely avoiding you." Who was he talking to? Anthea leaned back in her chair and continued to listen closely.

"Because I hated you then." Okay, she had to laugh at that. Mycroft looked over at her as she did and offered her a naughty smirk.

"I don't owe you a favour, but carry on anyway." Mycroft sighed. He walked way into his office. Too invested now to hear the rest of the conversation, Anthea got up and followed two steps behind. Mycroft, listening on the phone, sat down in his office chair. Anthea sat in her usual spot. He quirked an eyebrow at her, she smiled coyly.

"No. You can afford your own driver." Mycroft barked down the phone. So this person wanted a lift to this afternoon tea, did they? That was the favour they were asking Mycroft Holmes for? Of all the favours?

"There's a reason for that." Mycroft laughed bitterly. The person must have asked why because he continued right away. "Because you'd hit on Walter and I never wanted you to meet Anthea." Anthea raised her eyebrows and pointed a finger at herself playfully. Mycroft waved her away with a flick of the hand. She didn't go anywhere.

"That was different, she was merely my assistant back then. There was nothing to keep private." He was purposely avoiding looking at Anthea now.

"They have to, don't they? They live in the country." He said. Anthea had no idea what that was about. She figured it was a continuation as to why this person wasn't allowed to meet her.

"No, I don't." Mycroft muttered. He straightened his posture. "No. I don't." He said more firmly. "If everything in my life is a secret then how did you get my number?" Suddenly Anthea felt sorry for the other person. Mycroft could be so difficult.

"Childish?" He laughed. "This is coming from you, yes? What do they say about those with glass houses?" Who was this person? Mycroft rubbed his face with his free hand and sighed.

"Fine, fine, fine." He breathed heavily. "Whatever. Fine. I'll send Walter." A pause. "With Anthea if I have to. Are you happy?" As the other person spoke Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"Alright. Well I look forward to it." What? Look forward to it? It certainly didn't sound like it.

"Thank you. You too. Bye." Mycroft hung up the phone. He dropped his hand hold the phone onto the arm of his chair as sighed with enough exhaustion that you'd think he just survived some form of torture. He3 pursed his lips and began staring off into the nothingness, lost in his thoughts.

"What was that?" Anthea asked.

"My cousin, Varya." Mycroft said wistfully, still half in his thoughts. "She's in the country and wants to have afternoon tea tomorrow."

That was his cousin? Better yet; that was his favourite cousin!?

"But…" Anthea spluttered. Her face must have held a look of confusion that she wasn't capable of hiding. "You told her you hated her."

"I said I hated her when we were teenagers." Mycroft corrected. Anthea's took in a deep measured breath as she kept her eyes on Mycroft, trying to work out why it was okay for him to say that so casually on the phone. "Oh don't pretend to be surprised." He waved her off again. "She hated me too." All Anthea could do was laugh.

Anthea and Walter were on their way to pick up Varya from her hotel. Much like the old days when meeting someone new Anthea took the opportunity to do some recognisance and probe Walter for any information he might have on the famous artist. Anthea leaned forward, hands on the side of Walter's seat.

"So, Walter…" She hummed. Glancing back at her, Walter could guess what was to come.

"You want to know if I know Ms Vernet." He asked, levity in his voice. Anthea bit her bottom lip and tilted her head in a bit of a shrug.

"Do you?" She asked. Walter laughed in his chest.

"I worked with Rudy when I was a new agent so I actually knew about Varya and Oscar before I met Mr. Holmes." Walter said. Ah yes, of course. It was so easy to forget that both Rudy and Walter were agents so their paths would have had to have crossed at something. "But they were teenagers so I don't know how helpful I can be, Miss James."

"No, no, that's good." Anthea tried to scoot forward more, as much as she could safely do. She angled herself to get the best view of Walter's face. "So what was she like?" Walter glanced over at her.

"You know that isn't safe for a pregnant woman, Miss James." He said. Anthea grunted. She sat back the way she was supposed to in the car. Walter looked through the rear-view mirror to look how she was sitting before he continued. "Varya was a bit wild it sounded. Boy crazy, sneaking out, getting in trouble for smoking. Would have driven Rudy crazy if her grades weren't alright. Oscar was quiet at home but loved school. He was on some sports team, can't remember which." So there was confirmation for why Varya and Mycroft didn't get along as teenagers. Mycroft was moody and responsible, he and Varya would have clashed. Good thing they were only cousins and not forced to spend more time together otherwise they might not have been friends now.

"Varya did well and Oscar liked school?" Anthea asked, looking at the back of Walter's head. "Are they geniuses?" Walter responded by making a weird sound in his throat.

"No but I think Varya was as smart as Rudy." He said. Anthea folded her arms across her chest.

"What was that noise about, Walter?" The driver said nothing. He focused on driving. Anthea forgave him for perhaps focusing on the turn but he did not speak for another thirty seconds. "Walter?"

"I think Oscar isn't smart. Or he's like you and me anyway." He said. Anthea frowned.

"So?" She asked.

"Well…" Walter glanced at her in the mirror again. "I always got the impression that Varya was the favourite. It wasn't until I found out that Sherlock and Mycroft were related to Rudy that I worked out why." Anthea cocked her head to the side, confused. Then she got it. She leaned her head against her headrest.

"Varya was the closest he had to competing with his sister." Anthea muttered. "And that's probably why he cared about her grades." Walter said nothing in return but Anthea could see by one look at his face in the mirror that that was exactly what he was thinking and he wasn't pleased with it. From what Anthea saw of Rudy she wouldn't put it past him. "I thought Oscar's problem was their father running away with that guy." Walter said nothing again. "But Varya got past it, didn't she?" Anthea sighed and shook her head. Every family had their issues.

Silence fell in the car.

It wasn't until they pulled up at the hotel and parked that Walter next spoke. He turned around to look at Anthea.

"A few years before you came along I picked her up from the airport with Sherlock and Mr. Holmes." Walter said. Anthea raised her eyebrows, interested to hear more. "She's…" He was having a hard time finding words to explain the artist as he crinkled his features a little, accentuating his wrinkles. It was always hard to explain a Holmes/Vernet. "Nicer than her father." Was what he settled on. Anthea snickered in equal parts surprise and amusement. She opened the car door.

"That's a start." She said before she got out of the car to wait for the woman in question.

It was easy to recognise Varya Vernet after a quick internet search to see what she looked like. The soft faced surrealist artist with the forever changing hair colour. Anthea didn't need to recognise her. The woman one year younger than Mycroft saw Anthea by the car as soon as she came through the hotel doors. She beamed joy and began walking quickly over.

Varya did not look much like her cousins, clearly inheriting after her Russian mother the same way the Holmes boys took after their father. Her long hair was died black but her long roots demonstrated her natural light brown colouring. Her eyes were a dusty grey shade of green. She had soft supple lips. The Vernet came out in the nose – the same nose as Violet. She was tall like the rest of the family, too. She wore all black with a loose silken red robe like jacket over the top. On each wrist she wore a chunky matching bracelets. She was also wearing an engagement ring. What number was this? Or was this just an old ring?

"Miss Vernet." Anthea stepped forward from the car, pocketing her phone. "It's nice to finally meet you." Varya blew air through her lips as she approached and waved Anthea off with dramatic wave of her wrist.

"Miss Vernet is my father." She laughed on the last word. "We're basically family, darling." Her long, thin hands covered in permanent marker and pencil marks landed on Anthea's shoulder and pulled her into a very light hug. She kissed Anthea on her cheek. Anthea should have known better that to expect a lack of contact – not all of these people were like that.

"I guess." Anthea laughed breathlessly when she was let go. "But you're still a respected artist. I owe you some respect." Varya rolled her eyes.

"You're not respected until your dead, love." Ah there it was. A dark sense of humour is definitely a family connection. Anthea smiled wryly. Varya took a step back and looked Anthea up and down. "Anthea, yes? Do us a twirl, will you?" Anthea was a little apprehensive. She was not in a dress shop trying on clothes with her friends, why would she do that? Still she did a slow turn on the spot. Varya hummed and nodded. "Just what I expected, too good for Myc. Well done to him." Well, no tact is another family trait. Luckily it was one Anthea was well used to by now and could find all the humour in the world in it. Anthea shrugged playfully.

"He's pretty easy on the eyes, too." She crinkled her nose.

"Oh, of course." Varya nodded three times. "No," She waved her hand again, "your baby is either going to be classically beautiful or uniquely beautiful, you have a great combination to work with." Anthea froze. She looked at Varya carefully. "Auntie Violet told me. Won't stop talking about it." Anthea mimed an 'oh' and nodded once slowly. Speaking of Violet, Anthea finally found another member of the family as talkative as the matriarch.

"Have you-"

"Talked to Mycroft about it? No." Varya cut Anthea off. She scoffed. "He knows I know but he doesn't talk about real things to me. He gives his two cents about my life, all high and mighty, and hangs up." Anthea quirked an eyebrow.

"You don't have to come see him." She spoke softly and slowly, a bit weary of the way Varya and Mycroft talked about each other. Varya's face dropped immediately and her eyes were full of sorrow.

"Of course I do." She cooed. "Mycroft was my first ever playmate. I love him dearly." She blinked and pouted. "And how else will I hear about Sherlock he never answers his phone?" Anthea snorted a little. She had a good point there. Her love for Mycroft seemed very natural true. Anthea gestured to the car so that Varya would know to get in.

"I'll give you Dr. Watson's number. It's what we use." She said. The two women got into the car.

The door to the house was pulled open before Anthea could even put her house keys anywhere near the lock. Standing there was a stern face Mycroft still in the suit he'd worn this morning at work. Anthea could only imagine that she and Varya were giving him the same deer in the headlights look. He took a deep breath and scrutinised his cousin silently.

"Half an hour, Varya." He said, pointing at her. "Half an hour is all the time we have for you." She rolled her eyes.

"Time is a relative concept subject to the changes in reality for each and every individual, Mycroft." She pulled a very teenaged mocking face at him. Then she leaned forward and hugged him. He let her, too, placing one of his hands on her back. She kissed him on the cheek the way she did to Anthea. "Lovely to see you, darling. So great your family is back together."

"It's nice to see you, too." Mycroft replied as he was let go. "I'm sorry about your father's involvement." Varya clicked her tongue.

"Don't worry about Daddy, I'm a bit like you with Sherlock. I'm used to it." She turned sideways to slide past Mycroft in the doorway. "Where am I going? Your quaint living room?" She called out sarcastically as she walked down the hall. Mycroft pulled a mocking expression.

"Obviously." He replied loud enough for her to hear. If she responded they didn't hear. When she was out of earshot Mycroft stepped outside, closer to Anthea. "You survived, I see." He said. It was his way of asking about it. Anthea chewed on her lip, but nodded.

"She's wearing an engagement ring." She told Mycroft. The genius sighed.

"Of course." He muttered. "How did she treat you?" Brushing past the ring.

"She called me family." Anthea said. Mycroft's lips twitched but he held them as straight as possible. "Said all sorts of things about you." Anthea teased. Mycroft hummed and nodded.

"But what do you think?" He asked. Anthea looked behind him in the direction Varya had disappeared into.

"She's like your mum, Rudy, and Jamie all rolled into some weird package." Anthea whispered, shaking her head. "She seems cool." This time, as Mycroft looked back inside, he allowed himself to smile just a little bit.

"Let's not keep her waiting." The genius nodded to the door. "If we leave her too long she'll complain about the kitchen wallpaper or the armchair."

"Yeah, God forbid someone makes fun of your overpriced wallpaper." Anthea whispered. Mycroft shot her daggers. Anthea crinkled her nose.

"Come on." He barked. He took her hand, entangling his fingers in hers, and guided her back into the house.

Half an hour was actually an hour and a half. Was this because Varya's reality of time was actually different to Mycroft's? Or maybe Mycroft was happy to see someone he actually called his friend for the first time in years.

Author's Note: So? Did you like it? Was it okay? I hope so! I really enjoyed writing it so I really hope you like it. Thanks to our guest reviewers; Hazel, Bunnyrabbit100, and Christie. Thanks to all of you for reading! Next chapter is going to be late. I have to work on a really important critical analysis so I'm ALMOST skipping an update. It'll be seven or eight days probably. I don't want to do a bad job on the analysis and I don't want to give you guys some really bad writing. So see you in about a week!