It would take Mycroft Holmes to break her will

It Would take Mycroft Holmes to kill her will

"Ma'am, we've lost contact with our agents. We don't know where they are. No response from their side" reported Q, who was responsible for overseeing the mission and the safety of the agents. M was agitated. She had refused Mycroft's generous offer on putting Anthea for this mission. Mycroft insisted M and Anthea was sent to take down Finneas Hemworth, no.7 on INTERPOL's top 10 murderers in Europe. "Are we sure? Why is there no response? What was the last thing you got from them?" M asked. "It was a car chase followed by a foot chase. There is nothing from their side ma'am." M's worse fears came true. She had to face it, the agents were on their own now, and nothing can be done unless they use the radio signal to convey their location.

M decided they would wait for the response of the agents. No kidding when Sherlock meant Mycroft was The British Government. His influence in The Board of Defence Council was pretty strong, M was a strong woman, but she was in no way prepared for Mycroft's wrath if she had to face it. The news was sent to Mycroft immediately through proper channels. Mycroft was in the middle of a meeting with The Prime Minister. His phone beeped, he took no care for the time being.

It was about a half-hour later, he checked his phone. It had one message under priority, "Flower plucked". Everything was ice cold, the air, the world, never was he in a thousand years prepared to hear such news. He immediately went for his car, drove down to the MI6 headquarters, when he should have been having his lunch. M was informed the moment Mycroft's car was spotted in the building.

M received Mycroft in the Q-Branch. Mycroft's very being gave off an icy blast, of anger, of mixed emotions, like they were ready to burst out any moment and not spare anyone. Mycroft inquired about the mission's progress, quite calmly.  M waited for Mycroft to speak up. He did. "What is your plan now?" he asked. "Standard procedure, keep backup in their last known location, move-in when called, no more action for 24 hours" M replied. Something in Mycroft told him Anthea would be back by the day after, that they would get some news from her within the day, and he would be there to grant her some days off. 

Mycroft was already missing his PA's familiar click of heels when he stepped into his office. She would come into his office with a tray of tea at 4.05 P.M. and biscuits. She reminded him to take a break. That day, someone else was bringing his evening tea. Anthea would keep it near his elbow, place the biscuits a little far from the cup and leave without a word. Mycroft wasn't complaining, Anthea does it, even though she didn't really have to, and never complained about her work. She would last just as long as Mycroft would, usually, working into the nights, as long as Mycroft assured her she would have a car to take her back to her cats. He missed her.

Every passing minute, he received emails and meeting requests. He would reply to them, but he just couldn't stop thinking about his assistant. If she had to work into the nights, she would shift over to Mycroft's office, taking a seat on his sofa and continue. It made him comfortable, knowing that she trusted him and was always just a call away.

He distracted himself by working, and he left the office early. He wanted to spend the evening with the people in his life. Remembering how Anthea would joke "It would take Mycroft Holmes to break my will", he nurtured the hope that there will be some news the next day. 

The next day, Mycroft first went to visit M. She had no information for Mycroft. He looked at the time, it was almost 24 hours, they still had no news. M gave orders to search for the agents. Sherlock was not in London and people were constantly asking for advice from him, her absence bothered him greatly. One day since Anthea had gone off the grid, and 2 days since her absence. Mycroft needed some assurance, he started looking up at the files of Finneas, and he vowed to himself that if that bastard had killed her, he would be the one to end him. He took his work home, gathering intel on his last known locations, contacts and everything. Worry paved the way for energy drain, soon, he fell asleep. He woke up the next morning to a wonderful aroma of tea. Memories of the last two days came to him. Unofficially, Anthea was dead.

He stirred from the bed, sitting up. Mycroft made the call to MI6, going down the stairs of his well-furnished house. Mycroft too pulled himself together to hear bad news. He reached the bottom of the stairs, his mind already functioning to keep things running, in Anthea's forever absence. He was thinking of getting a cup of coffee, so he made his way to the kitchen. It would be a day he would never forget, the day he has to come to terms with the fact that Anthea would no longer be available at his beck and call at any time. 

When he entered the kitchen, a vague figure of Anthea stood there, as pale as a ghost, trying to reach for the sugar cubes placed at an arm's distance from where she stood. Mycroft was speechless. Did he miss her so badly that he was starting to hallucinate? He walked towards the ghostly figure, with every step he took, he was growing confident that it was indeed Anthea there. She turned around, with the cup in her hand, she hadn't noticed Mycroft coming. Before she could grasp things, Mycroft had engulfed her in a hug. "Ouch!" she winced, "Mycroft, it hurts". Mycroft didn't hear her complain, he simply held her.

It was after a full minute that Mycroft let her go, he became his normal self. "Why didn't you report to the Medical? What is wrong with you?" he scolded her. "I missed you too, sir," she said, giggling. Mycroft never knew she was capable of smiling heartily. "Come on, you're going to the Medical now," he said. "Don't you want your coffee, Mycroft? You haven't been keeping well at all" Anthea asked him. "You were going to make ME a coffee? With that shoulder injury?" he asked in disbelief. "That's nothing, just a scratch," she said.

The next thing, she found herself in The Medical in MI6. He remembered Irene say, after entering into Mycroft's protection about Anthea, whom he trusted to keep her safe, "Don't crush her, she's a gem, I'd swipe her right away from under your noses even if you let her loose a bit." He found peace after 4 days of suffering, his PA was safe, for all that he could care about the mission being a success or failure, he wasn't going to be generous with Anthea on missions, hereafter.