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Chapter Text

In which an assistant resigns…

No one would believe that the mighty Anthea of Whitehall would be handing in her resignation letter. And no one would believe that Mycroft Holmes did not see that one coming.

He did not.

As he likes everyone to believe. But he did see it miles away, like a lorry raging out of control. His mighty assistant, Anthea, is resigning. He saw it with the way she smiles whenever she drinks her first cup of coffee, or when she was looking at the calendar that was sitting on her desk, she was looking at the month of December, 5 days before Christmas (who would want to share an occasion with that wretched holiday?) certainly not his assistant who views the holiday as a nuisance, and an excuse to let yourself loose with the spending and eating, no, a Christmas wedding is not ideal. And so was a New Year wedding.

The picture is clear… clearer that the polished tiles of Whitehall, Anthea is getting married. What comes after marriage? Children. And that was enough of a reason for her to leave the job she was very good at for 10 years.

But as a benevolent boss, he is allowing it.

It was, after all, every woman’s desire. Not the entire population of woman, but still. His mother, despite being a very intellectual being, chose a life of white picket fence. Hence, the creation of him and his bother- brother. And even though he still find the notion of starting his own family quite appalling. He has no other choice but to let his assistant go.

“It seems that you are quite sure about this.” He started. He met the guy once, when Anthea bought him as a plus one on an event they had. And of course, because he is kind, he made sure to make a thorough check of the guy. He was clean… too clean… but then again, what to expect with a MI-5 agent?

“Yes sir. I am very sure of my choice.” Anthea beamed. And she had, since the first time he met her, smiled, a very large, genuine smile. “And before you fret, I already prepare my replacement, she’s been training and shadowing me for a year, and yes, you didn’t see her because she is that good.” She said, quite proud of herself and her little protégé.

“And who might that be?” He asked, raising an eyebrow that has more expression and personality than the man itself.

“Good morning!” A cheerful voice entered his pristine office, on the doorway stood a very brightly colored dressed woman in her mid-twenties, natural strawberry-blonde hair, freckles that looks like exploded all-over her body, and the brightest hazel-green eyes he ever seen.

And for a fraction of a milli-second, his frozen heart skipped a beat. A notion that will likely be heard by his doctor during his yearly physicals.

But he refuses to acknowledge the fact that it was caused by the woman who was about to replace Anthea.

“And who you might be?” He asked, still reading the girl in front of him.

“Daisy Liliane May Burbanks.” She answered, a smile adorning her pixie-like face.

Too bright.

Too cheerful for his liking.

“Sherlock told me you’re in need of a new assistant.” She said. “Sorry. But it was written in your eyebrows.” She said sheepishly, which garnered a laugh from Anthea.

“My eyebrows?” This is getting interesting.

“Believe it or not, you and Sherlock has expressive eyebrows. While Sherlock’s rise when he’s amused or confused. Yours raise when you want to figure out something.”

“I could’ve raised my eyebrow as a habit.” He challenged.

“Well, you’re trying to figure me out this whole-time asking questions, aren’t you? You’ve been doing it the whole time!” She exclaimed, Anthea nodding along, amused. “So not, not a habit.” She shrugged.

“You seem awfully familiar with my brother.” He leans on his chair, still observing the girl. Pastel yellow trousers that match her coat, baby blue Mary Janes, and a pink turtleneck that hugs her form. Her very being is very contrasting with the place she’s about to work, and the man she’s about to work with.

“Well, he’s, my neighbor. My upstairs neighbor. Aaand- I often feed him and John, cause god-knows that man knows how to feed himself and his friend. I don’t think they have anything edible in their flat you see.” She surmised. You can’t tell it from his face, but he was highly amused that someone other than him knows how difficult it is to make Sherlock stay alive. But he was relieved that despite her appearance at Baker Street being undetected to him (it was a first, he was rather pissed at his brother for pulling another stunt), she didn’t mean harm to his brother. He doubts that this woman- girl- can do any harm to others.

“Hmm..” He hummed.

“Sir, you have a meeting with the prime minister and the head of MI6.” Anthea said, having looked down from her iPad. “It might be a good time to take Daisy with you and see how she works in your daily setting." 

This will be one long meeting, Mycroft thought.

Chapter Text

“Don’t make this a habit now.” Sherlock glared from his violin, composing another song for whatsoever reason.

“I assure you, this won’t be a regular thing,” Mycroft puffed, sitting right on the couch where Sherlock’s clients usually sit.

“I take i it goes well?” Sherlock asked, inquiring about his new friend’s new job that he orchestrated. He knew the moment he saw Anthea a year ago that she would eventually leave her post as his brother’s assistant so he sent Daisy, who newly acquired 221c on Anthea’s way. And that eventually happened yesterday, when Daisy came barging in his flat with a takeout from a very nice place, and recounting how her day went. John came home from his day job, and was grateful for the dinner, and congratulated her for being officially hired.

As if the first year was not official.

But according to Daisy, it was not official until yesterday when she was present in a meeting with her boss. It was an eyeroll moment, but he was happy for the girl, for some reason, he liked her. Which is rare according to John, because he never really likes anyone, and John was so sure that he doesn’t like him even when they are sharing a flat for a while now.

“Indeed.” Mycroft quipped. He was not about to tell his nosy bother- BROTHER, that Daisy is in fact not an average goldfish.

“Based on that tone, it went beyond well.” Sherlock eyed his brother, who in return eyes him the way he eyes everyone in the boardroom that looks at his new assistant the wrong way.

“You like how she pays attention to everything in that meeting and of course let’s not forget how she handed you lunch based on your dietary needs.” Sherlock started, “she did the same with me. Probably saw you as another cat that needs saving. She has 3 of those, and only one was fine with me, the other 2 tried to kill me.” He saw that Mycroft was about to throw one of his own, but he wasn’t finished yet… “You like how she always hands you things before you can even tell her. Something that Anthea took years to master, you like how she can keep up with you in every aspect something you never found in your pristine workplace, God, brother! Are you going soft now?”

“And you like the way she keeps you alive. Seriously brother mine, you’re an adult now, act like one.” Mycroft huffed. It didn’t escape him how Sherlock gained healthy weight. One look and no one will notice how unhealthy his lifestyle is. As if his wayward years never happened.

And that is one thing he wants to thank Daisy. Something he never did with anyone.

“Why should I? I though it was your job to be the adult?” Sherlock snapped and he went back to playing, it was an irritating note that even Mycroft was tempted to snatch the darn instrument and throw it out of the window. He was about to say something when someone beat him.

“God, Sherlock! You just sent my cats into a frenzy!” Daisy exclaimed, she huffed as she carefully placed a casserole on the dining table that for the first time became functional.

“Mr. Holmes. Didn’t see you there.” She chuckled, clearly flustered that she saw her esteemed boss in her friends’ flat. For a moment, she forgot that the said friend was her boss’ brother.

“He was just leaving.” Sherlock suddenly swirled that Daisy had barely enough time to dodge him.

“Don’t be rude, mop top. Go fix yourself before we eat dinner dummy.” Daisy huffed, she sounds like a disappointed mother. Mycroft hid a smirk; he was liking the way Daisy bossed his brother around. It looks like she has a knack for wrangling high-functioning toddlers.

“Fine. Only because you bought a decent dinner.” Sherlock harrumphed. Glared at his brother, then walked straight to his room.

“If he wasn’t that tall, I’d mistake him for a teenager.” Daisy mumbled.

“More like an overgrown toddler.” Mycroft added.

“THIS TODDLER CAN HEAR YOU!” came Sherlock’s muffled voice from the room.

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO HEAR THAT!” Daisy shouted back. She then turned to her boss, who was amused by the events.

“Well, Anthea said I could go home early. She said that I’ll be replacing her post tomorrow.” She quipped.

“Yes, are you looking forward for that?” Mycroft asked cordially. He was still trying to figure her out; she was like a blank book that has to be written in to be able to know her depth. If that makes sense at all.

“Of course I was! I’ve been preparing for this for a year, and it was fun, to be honest.” She said, “Oh, by the way, would you like to join us for dinner?” she asked.

“I’m afraid not; I must get going now.” Mycroft said, standing up from his perch, and just like clockwork, Daisy handed him his umbrella. “Well, thank you, Ms. Burbanks.” Mycroft gave a subtle nod and went out of his brother’s flat without waiting for Daisy’s reply.

“Have a good night, Mr. Holmes!” she called out. She wasn’t sure if he heard her, but she hopes he does.

“Mother would love you, by the way.” Sherlock suddenly appeared, fresh from tidying himself up.

“Huh?” Daisy asked, confused. Sherlock just looked at her. Really looked at her, then smirked.

“Nothing.” he said, then made his way to the dining room.

___

“Rough night?” Anthea asked as she walked past a very annoyed Daisy. So out of character for the ray of sunshine.

“I rank it as the worst night ever.” Daisy then chugged the coffee that Anthea handed her, “Sherlock played the violin until 2:00 in the morning. Then when I thought that everything was fine, he started shooting the walls. If it wasn’t for John, he’d probably cause another mayhem or something.” She huffed, clearly annoyed at Sherlock and his lack of propriety.

But as she observes this past year, it wasn’t a lack of propriety… he was just bored. Plain, painstakingly bored… and a bored Sherlock is bad for anyone’s sleep schedule.

“I hope a body just mysteriously drops in the middle of London with no way of telling how it got there or how it died just so Greg can give Sherlock something to run around.” Anthea laughed at the poor sleep-deprived girl.

“That was an oddly specific request.” Anthea smirked.

“It has to be, or else Sherlock won’t leave his flat.” Daisy shrugged. “In the meantime, since I have enough time for my break, I’m going to get a little snooze.” She yawned for the nth time that day, and a cranky Daisy is like a cranky toddler, but not Sherlock-level toddler.

“Sure. Don’t let me get in the way of that.” Anthea mocked surrender; she smiled as she watched her walk back to her cubicle and take out her neck pillow and a soft scarf as a blanket. As soon as the girl closed her eyes, Anthea went back to her well-deserved break; besides, Mr. Holmes’ meeting isn’t for another hour. Plenty of time for her and Daisy to recharge.

Back-to-back meetings were then faced by Anthea and a rested Daisy; as soon as the day ended, they all went back to Mycroft’s wing. But the day isn’t finished yet; they must give a detailed report to Mycroft Holmes in regard to the meetings held.

“You can leave early, Anthea; I’ll do the reports. Consider it as a gift for letting me sleep during the break.” Daisy beamed. And Anthea was shocked to say that the girl volunteered to take on the difficult task of reporting to Mycroft Holmes.

He wants more than the meeting's minutes; he wants another point of view, details, and points. As well as related files that may be connected and such. And that took Anthea a good few years to master. So, excuse her if she was a little skeptical.

“Are you sure? Mr. Holmes wants more than the meeting minutes.” she said, and what happened next made her jaw drop.

“Yup!” Daisy beamed, holding up a whole filing box, and she labeled it with the date and the vague meeting title. “But… isn’t this a bit overboard?” She asked, kind of worried she went too much with the report. She saw how Anthea did those reports when she was shadowing her for a year, and she wasn’t sure if there was a time that a report was this massive.

Anthea looked at her, really looked at her, then burst out laughing. She was laughing so hard that she took a long time to gather herself.

“I’m sorry… It’s just… you know what, just give it to him.” She said, finally composing herself. “And I promised you; it wasn’t overboard.” She gives the girl’s shoulder a squeeze and sends her to Mycroft’s office.

Guess they were going to enjoy an early night.

___

Sometime, in the middle of a busy night in London, a body suddenly drops.

Dead.

No signs of anything.

It seems that the body just appeared out of nowhere.

People were in panic; some were filming. But most importantly, Daisy Burbanks will get a good night’s sleep because Sherlock has something to run around.