Author's Note: Hi guys! Thanks for the reviews last chapter. I'm really glad you liked it! As for this chapter… I almost didn't write it. I had got it in my head that inconsequential chapters might be boring and people might not want to read them. I then became conflicted because I realise that this story is kind of about inconsequential things adding up to the big things. I then had some words with people on Tumblr and realised I should probably just write it. So here it is. An inconsequential chapter but hopefully an enjoyable one. 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 Time Margot Began Teething

A few thrown toys does not a Margot tantrum make. It's not uncommon to see such a thing. Margot, like all babies, was not in complete control of her body yet – if we ever achieve such a thing – and whenever an error occurred it was through no fault of her own. At least according to her. It was the floors fault, or the nearest teddy or toy's fault. She didn't burst out crying in tears, she got annoyed. She tossed a toy and made a squeal that Anthea and Mycroft had identified as Margot yelling. Oh, but not Patches. Patches never got yelled at. Patches could do no wrong.

A few thrown toys over the past few days had meant nothing to Anthea. It was normal behaviour. It had gotten worse today though. Margot swatted away her bottle with a little yell which was highly unusual. Anthea had little trouble getting Margot to eat and drink since the first few weeks of her little life. Even worse she had started crying twice that day for no obvious reason. Anthea tried to work it out but couldn't.

Mycroft's face fell into concern as Margot swatted away her bottle again. Anthea rubbed at her forehead. The little girl had to have something. Frown on his face, Mycroft came closer to inspect Margot. Like he could read something from her face no one else could see.

"Is she teething?" Mycroft asked, turning to look at Anthea. "She has been chewing on Patches' hands and feet a lot lately and that is only a very recent habit." Anthea buried her face in her hands. She hadn't even thought of that yet. Convinced her baby was still just that – a little baby. It was too early for teething in her mind.

"I'm such an idiot." Anthea groaned. She pulled her hands through her brown wavy hair. The kid was in pain!

"You're not." Mycroft muttered quietly. His hand gently touched Anthea's shoulder.

At least now Anthea knew – thanks to her all seeing and all-knowing boyfriend – she could try and help.

"I'm going to the kitchen." Anthea announced. She didn't need to elaborate that she was going to search the freezer for something that cool soothe Margot until they could actually do something for her. Poor little girl. Anthea went to leave Margot and Mycroft in Margot's room and head downstairs. She was stopped by another yell but this one wasn't angry. This was a cry of anguish. She looked over to see Margot reaching for her.

"She's in pain and she wants her Mummy." Mycroft explained quietly. Anthea got that just by the look on her little face. Mummy and Daddy both meant safety and love but a baby has a special connection to their mother. Plus Anthea did all the cuddling. Anthea came back in the room. She stroked Margot's head.

"I'll be back, sweetie." Anthea said. "Stay with Daddy."

"I'll go have a look." Mycroft offered. He might have been a little hurt by Margot's rejection but he did his best not to show it. "I'm more resourceful anyway." Smarter, yes. Resourceful? Hmm… Well, if it made him feel better Anthea would let Mycroft think so.

Mycroft came back with a sippy cup full of ice and cold water.

"This will do until the dishcloth freezes." He said as if it was obvious that he had put a clean dishcloth in the freezer for a solution. Anthea thankfully took the cup from him. She was impressed and so in love with the genius.

"Maybe you are more resourceful." She hummed proudly. The genius quirked an eyebrow.

"You disagreed?" He questioned – sounding more offended by this than by his daughter's rejection. Anthea shrugged coyly and turned to her poor daughter.

While those things did help soothe Margot enough to stop crying she was still needy and in pain. Pain meant the darling couldn't sleep and needy meant she wanted Anthea. She spent quite a lot of time on Anthea and Mycroft's bed while Mycroft read and Anthea went between reading, checking her phone, and trying to doze – all while cuddling Margot, of course.

Mycroft, thankfully, was quite accustomed to functioning on little sleep. This meant he was dressed, aware, and ready to go for his eight o'clock meeting. Today there was that meeting, a small break for morning tea, then a 10.30 meeting. That was it and the rest of the day would be for general office related nonsense… If Anthea was also ready. She was not.

Dressed in her makeshift pyjamas, a pair of socks, and wearing Mycroft's dressing gown, Anthea was anything but prepared to go to the office. Her hair looked alright. That was something.

"I can't go in today." Anthea said sadly and wearily. She shook her head and a loose curl fell into her face. Mycroft watched with some affection. "Margot needs me. She'll cry for Jamie. I have to stay." Mycroft hummed and nodded. "I can get emails sorted and I can delegate from home so I'll still get stuff done."

"I know you will." Mycroft replied. With his thumb he stroked that lose curl out of Anthea's face and tucked it behind her ear. Anthea savoured the gentle caress.

"I'm sorry." Anthea said – speaking to her boss rather than Margot's father. "I wouldn't do this if I didn't think she needed me."

"It doesn't matter, my dear. Not at all." Mycroft said as Margot's father rather than Anthea's boss. "I'll send someone to a pharmacy or a baby store, wherever that can help, while I'm in the meetings and I'll bring the supplies home as soon as I can."

"You don't need to rush home." Anthea practically whispered. "Just have Walter drop them off." Mycroft pressed his lips together and made a humming noise in his throat.

"No." He said. He placed a hand on the back of Anthea's head, leaned forward, and gently kissed her forehead. "I have to go." He said before anymore objections could be made.

"Love you." Anthea said, bidding Mycroft farewell. Mycroft just smiled.

Staying home with Margot that morning had been an excellent choice. Being able to sit on her Mummy's lap made Margot much more content and quiet than she would have been without her. The extra stress would have been good for no one; not for Anthea, not for Jamie in her first trimester of a surprise pregnancy, and not for little Margot with her sore gums.

The time wasn't that much when you thought about it. A half day at the office was really nothing… unless you were the one stuck in the boring meetings. And if Anthea had gone today then worrying about Margot would have made it stretch out even longer. But as it stands now Anthea didn't have to suffer that. Before long Mycroft was home with his briefcase in one hand, umbrella tucked under his arm, and a paper bag in the other hand.

Anthea stood up to greet her partner. She waited until he had removed his coat and put down the briefcase and the umbrella. Then she approached him with a head cocked to the side and a cheeky smirk. All calm and cool, arms folded across her chest, you'd never know she spent all morning with a needy child… Unless you were aware of how easily this persona could be switched on like Mycroft was, not that he was going to say anything. He was just going to approach with a similar expression and ignore how worried he had probably been.

"Hello." Anthea purred.

"Alice, dear." Mycroft nodded as his return hello. There was a little too much joy in his voice for Anthea not to realise how happy he was to be home. Again, not like she would point it out. They had standards to uphold even in the home. Anthea and Mycroft approached each other and stopped half a metre away from one another. Mycroft held up the white paper bag.

"What have you got there?" Anthea asked, looking at him in his beautiful stormy blue eyes rather than at the bag itself. Mycroft shook it a bit, gesturing for Anthea to take it. She did and began to open it.

"Not much, I'm afraid." Mycroft explained. "But it should get us through the metaphorical woods." Anthea sniffed a silenced snicker at Mycroft's choice of words.

Out of what Anthea assumed to be packaging from a drug store Anthea pulled out a blue teething ring – gender colours but the wrong gender so still totally Mycroft's style – and teething gel. She didn't mean to but as Anthea looked up at the roof she let out an audible sigh of relief. She also didn't mean to but she hugged Mycroft. He was stiff as a board and didn't reciprocate but he did chuckle and the laugh was open and honest. As soon as Anthea's brain caught up with her body she let go of Mycroft. Not before giving him a final tight squeeze.

"You're my hero." She said to him lovingly. "Obviously Margot's, too." She added with a crinkled nose. Mycroft cocked his head to the side.

"Is that all it takes to be a hero?" He scoffed. "Then why does Sherlock keep getting himself in physical danger? This is much easier." Anthea rolled her eyes, smile still on her lips.

"Not my problem, he's not my hero." Anthea muttered – kind of joking – as she began reading the back of the reading gel.

"I was informed," Mycroft stepped just a bit closer to Anthea as he spoke. "That the gel could be applied every three hours if necessary." He was informed? Anthea glanced up from the packaging as she tried to work out if Mycroft spoke to a pharmacist himself or this was information given from the person he sent.

"That's good." She hummed. She let that slide. She kind of liked the mystery. It allowed her to think for a moment that this was a stop on the way home with Walter – like Patches – rather than a low level employee's job. Mycroft looked down briefly then back up.

"The sooner you apply it the sooner we may all get some relief. Margot in particular." He muttered.

"Me?" Anthea teased. Her eyebrows were raised as high as they go. "So you don't want to put your finger in a baby's mouth?" Mycroft twitched before his lips twisted. For a moment he fought the grimace but he was not victorious against his own reaction. This is what Anthea was expecting and she enjoyed teasing Mycroft tremendously.

"I love Margot," Mycroft breathed. A second passed. "But no. No I would rather not do that thank you, very much." Anthea laughed. It was a laugh full of light. The worry for Margot had begun to lift and a moment like this with Mycroft – with one of them jovially picking on the other – always… usually made Anthea feel good. Anthea stroked Mycroft's arm.

"I'll do it now." She said.

"Does that make us both heroes by your standards?" Mycroft asked. Anthea stopped to think about this. She considered saying no just to continue their game. She also considered making a joke about the shades of grey that they really were but sometimes that hit too close to home with Mycroft and now wasn't the time. So Anthea shrugged.

"To Margot, yeah." She said. "We probably are." Mycroft rolled his eyes but he content and pleased by that answer. Anthea could tell just by glancing at him a final time before heading off to help Margot.

Author's Note: So how was it? Okay I hope because I just finished writing it as I type this AN, and WOW does my arm hurt. Don't worry, it wasn't one sitting. It was four small sittings over two nights. Thanks to last chapter's guest reviewers who were both only known as 'Guest'. Let me know what you guys thought and I shall see you in seven days!