Disclaimer:I do not own D: All rights go to ACD, and Moffatiss, if they didn't then I'd be dead.

A/N: Hello :D This is the first story that I have dared to post online :') So I hope you like it, unfortunately I think that this chapter is kind of slow moving but I have ideas, don't underestimate me :P If you don't like Mystrade or Johnlock please don't read. Reviews would be very welcome but I won't begJConstructive crit is also very welcomeJEnjoy! Oh and also please let me know if there's some kind of error in structure, I'm not used to this :')

Emm xx

Chapter One

It had been an extremely long and exhausting month for Mycroft Holmes. Hours after hours of peace talks and governmental issues debacles had taken its toll on the forty something year old man, and all he wanted now was to go home. It wasn't that he didn't like his work, after all for years it had been the only thing he had that mattered to him, but now he had something else, something that made him believe that he could be a better person. He wanted to turn off his phone for the next four- no five days and curl up in bed, basking in the embrace of warmth and love that was always emanating off of his partner, even when he denied himself of it.

"Sir? Sir!" Anthea's voice cut through Mycroft's train of thoughts, and he blinked in confusion before focusing in on his trusty assistant.

"Yes?"

"Sir, the Prime minister's PA wants to know if you have time to dine with Mr Cameron in the next week, what shall I say?" Anthea asked, concern colouring her tone as her eyes flicked from the Blackberry to her boss uneasily.

Mycroft bit back an extremely uncharacteristic annoyed groan, masking it by clearing his throat. "Hum, tell him that I will check my schedule and contact him as soon as possible, if you please."

"Certainly Sir." Mycroft watched as Anthea's long thin fingers flew over her keypad expertly typing out the response that he had just dictated to her. Tedious, as his brother would say; Always the voice of pessimism inside Mycroft's mind. "Oh" Anthea spoke up again, glancing out the darkened window of Mycroft's car into the night. "Sir this is your stop," she smiled faintly and passed Mycroft his umbrella which was leaning by his feet as he opened the door.

"Thank you." He accepted the object as he stepped out and raised an eyebrow, noticing the dark shadows under her eyes for the first time, illuminated by the dim light from the street lamp. It was well past two AM and Gilbert Street was deserted as it should be at this time of morning. He leaned in, tapping out a rhythm against the sleek black metal framework of the car. "Take the rest of the week off Anthea, and get some rest. You deserve a break," he told her and her smile brightened in reply.

"Thank you Sir, I have a date tomorrow night actually." She laughed and Mycroft allowed himself a rare smile.

"Well I'm glad. Good night Anthea."

"Good night Sir." Anthea watched as her boss let himself into his apartment building and waited until he disappeared from sight before tapping the driver's window glass as a signal to take her home.