And this is what started it all…..

God, he would have to get married soon and produce the next generation of the British government. Mycroft sighed and made a note for Winstonia to find him a suitably titled brood mare and see to the introductions. He wondered if he should plan eight or twelve dates before he could get down to the business of proposing. Howlynn - Offerings to the Temple Of Mendacity

And thanks to Lisa and her Fitbit challenge which had me listening to slutty techno pop while walking and the plot bunny went from a nifty idea to slutty and crazy…. Can anyone tell me how I accidently put Vega's Caramel next to Sexy Back on my iPod? You go from vigorous walk music to wanting to hang yourself on the next oak branch you pass under.

NOTE: MYCROFT/ANTHEA SHERLOCK/JOHN - AU! SLASH!

Looking for a Blue Blooded Brood Mare

John Watson put down his clip board and picked up the buzzing phone from his desk at the surgery. He expected it to be Sherlock with another request for milk. However the message was from Anthea. This wasn't a pub night, he thought raising an eyebrow.

MEET AT PIANO IN KINSINGTON 8ISH – A

Piano is not a pub it's a bar restaurant with live piano music. What on earth would Anthea have him meet her at a restaurant so far from their local? Hopefully this wouldn't eat too deep into his meager budget.

They had become something like 'friends' when Mycroft 'lent' him Anthea the last time Sherlock landed himself in hospital. He was released from and told to convalesce at home for a week before going back to the game. One 'Bored' and John knew it wasn't going to happen and that is where Anthea came into the picture. The only thing Sherlock seemed to fear besides 'Mummy' Holmes was the curvy brunette. When he scoffed at John over a week's bedrest Anthea took care of it. One smirk coupled with a threat to cut off his phone and he fell somewhat in line. He being Sherlock had to test her of course, and slowly to the noise from her phone playing Angry Bird one item after another belonging to Sherlock Holms went black. He even made a feeble grab for John's laptop only to watch it go black.

Anthea was a lot more than the neat efficient aid she presented on first sight. She was genius level brilliant had a wicked since of humor and was ruthless and was probably more qualified to be an assassin than an assistant to a politician. He had a great admiration for his friend.

He raised his eyebrow; the text was a little off. Why a place like Piano? The location fit her style actually more than a pub but she had never suggested the location before... It was elegant and posh, more of a New York Piano bar than local pub. Again, Anthea always liked their mutual Holms complaint nights at their local cozy pub. Something was off. Well he would just have to see what was going on when he got there.

When he walked into Piano he scanned the bar area for Anthea but did not see her. But, he heard her, so he scanned the back of the room and found her standing near the piano. She stood there with her hand on the pianist shoulder. She was singing, who knew she had such a lovely voice. Her voice rang clear and the longing in the lyrics resonated around the room.

It won't do
to stir a deep desire,
to fan a hidden fire
that can never burn true.

I know your name,
I know your skin,
I know the way
these things begin...

But I don't know
what I would give of myself,
how I would live with myself
if you don't go.

It won't do
to dream of caramel,
to think of cinnamon
and long
for you.

He watched her from the side of the room admiring her voice but feeling sorry for her because he knew whom she sang about and it made him cringe. They didn't call Mycroft Holmes the Ice Man for nothing. Taking a resigned breath he surveyed the room and found them a seat in the corner away from the crowd. Good thing he was off for the next two days.

She slid into the chair and like magic a waiter appeared. He ordered them both a glass of wine and a platter of cheese to share. He could make that last for quite some time and it looked like it was going to be a very long night. The waiter took the order with a smile and left them with a nod of his head. "Out with it, what did he do?"

"I've got some research to do for him for a new project," she all but spit the last word and looked like she was going to start crying for the moment then took a deep breath did the British stiff upper lip and continued, "I'm to find him several young prospects for the position of Mrs. Holmes."

John almost spit out his wine. "He what, wants you to pick out his wife? Good God..."

"She needs to be suitably titled, virginal if possible," John snorted, she looked at him with a cold anger then continued. "Fertile," she actually growled the word. "And Anthea dear, do you think it will take eight or ten dates before I can get down to the business of proposing?" She said the last in perfect mimic of Mycroft's public school accent; it actually made him shiver with her accuracy.

"Of all the bloodless..." He started to say and she cut him off with a rant.

"Yes! Cold blooded, misogynistic, ice veined, ass!"

"And yet…" he gave her a sympathetic look.

"Yet, I want him I want to be his Mrs. Holmes." She whined and dropped her head into her hands. He wondered if this was the moment he was supposed to give her the 'it will be alright' hug.

He said instead, "Then you are going to have to be the one to thaw him out." He said this jokingly. Suddenly, her head came up and she looked at him a bit wild eyed.

"War, this is war and you will be my Sun Tzu." The tears were drying up at least.

"You have only had one glass so it's not the alcohol talking. That leaves me to think he has finally driven you over the edge." He was starting to get…

"John, you are Three Continents Watson. Have you have lost count of the number…"

"Hey! I'm reformed," he interrupted. Now it was her turn to snort unladylike. "You however only have to bat your eyes and you have men falling at your feet." He said patting her hand and giving her a sympathetic smile.

"That doesn't work on Holms." Well wasn't that the truth.

"Yeah, tell me about it." A beautifully arched eyebrow inched its way higher and her smirk was predatory.

"So Mr. Watson, what say you, let's go to war?"

"If we do this Anthea we will have to be cleverer than both the Holmes brothers. It's unlikely it will work, but on the off chance it does it will be the answer to both of our prayers. She looked at him with her game face on and John thought Mycroft needed to concede now before the blue blooded bloodshed started.

"What will be our first volley?"

"Loose the jacket, unbutton the shirt two more buttons, and we need to rip the slit in the back of your skirt up a good two inches. And we need to get sloshed."

"This isn't Monty Python."

"No, this is a Holmes seduction," and he looked at her with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "seed it with mystery and you set the hook. We need to get hot, sweaty, and somewhat disheveled."

"Shhh, Mrs. Hud…son, sleep" said an intoxicated female voice followed by a door slamming shut. Sherlock peeked his head out of the shower. Why was John bringing a woman home? He thought he had got rid of the last one. This one knew of Mrs. Hudson? She was that familiar with John's life? He quickly grabbed the towel and started to dry himself off.

"Nope, go somewhere. Sher. Sher. Sherlock doesn't sleep. Let's get him to dance with us, not finished dancing yet. More dancing!" John was drunk! Maybe someone had drugged him. Maybe this female had drugged him. He must investigate and rid John of this distraction. Just then the singing started. John Hamish Watson was singing, which he had heard before, it was what he was singing that made Sherlock grab his house coat and creep stealthily toward the couple in the lounge.

"A pity she does not exist, a shame he's not a fag
The only girl I ever loved was Andrew in drag
There is no hope of love for me, from here on I go stag
The only girl I'll ever love is Andrew in drag."

The woman cackled drunkenly, "John, Jawn, I have you know Moriarty's middle name is Andrew. Do you think he would be a crazy shag?"

"I'll ask Molly!" More laughter and then the sound of breaking glass. He hoped it was one of John's mugs and not one of his experiments.

"Oh that was juvenile, but funny!" That voice was familiar. Sherlock peeked out the door and saw something he had never expected to see in his lifetime, a very intoxicated Anthea. It was as unexpected as seeing the Queen dancing naked down the Mall. Mycroft's' ice maiden was drunk and looking like he had never seen her before. She looked like someone that would turn John Watson's eye. He snuck back toward his room and the drunken revelers never noticed.

Picking up his phone he called the one person who could solve this before it became a lingering problem. "Mycroft you must come get Anthea."

"Who?" Mycroft asked drowsily. "Sherlock do you know what time it is?"

"Anthea, your assistant." He said getting aggravated. "She is here."

MUSIC:

The Magnetic Fields – Andrew in Drag

Susan Vega - Caramel