The light was dim when Anthea woke up, filtered through thin curtains and into the bedroom. She could feel that there was someone behind her, the lack of body heat meaning she was safe and calm, despite not remembering what had happened the night before, or how she'd ended up in her lover's bed.
She rolled over to face him, amused by how young and how unintimidating he looked in sleep. She left him to rest and crossed the house naked to get her clothes from her room. Which would have been fine, had Sherlock not been in the process of trying to break into Mycroft's office. She took a deep breath and decided to act as though nothing was wrong. Sherlock blinked once or twice and stared for a second before John tugged on his arm and he looked away.
''Morning, Mr Holmes, Dr Watson. Did you need something from that office?''
John took a deep breath and she saw the second he decided to just get out of the situation. Unfortunately Sherlock beat him to it, clearly trying to embarrass her and Mycroft.
''I think I left a cufflink, would you let us in? Unless Mycroft's hiding naked in there for some kind of role play. You do seem to be playing a lot of games recently.''
She walked slowly down the stairs, glancing at the pile of newspapers on the hall table, the top one showing a picture of her and Mycroft at dinner.
''Ah, so it worked then. Good. Mycroft will be pleased.'' She ignored John holding his jacket out and stepped just a little too close the Sherlock, pleased when he held his ground, refusing to move back.
''You'll have to move so I can reach the lock.''
''Where are you hiding the keys- sorry.''
Both Sherlock and Anthea turned to look at John, who blushed at what had clearly been an unintended outburst.
''It's a biometric lock.'' She twisted the doorknob, waiting for the warmth of the scan to pass over her fingertips before she pushed it open. She glanced around the room, checking there was nothing too dangerous for Sherlock to see. Once she was confident there was nothing he didn't already know, she let both men in, carefully not looking back at where Mycroft was watching them through the cracked door of his bedroom.
Sherlock looked around for a second, his eyes cataloguing everything in the room. He made some small pretence at looking for his missing cufflink, but gave up pretty quick. Mycroft entered the room silently, standing just inside the door in his dressing gown. He raised an eyebrow at Anthea's state of undress and she gave him a quick smile, which caught John's attention from where he had been very studiously watching his partner crawl around the floor.
''Mycroft. Uh- Sherlock thought maybe he dropped a cufflink.'' He gestured awkwardly at the detective, who rolled over and sat up, uncaring of his suit.
''Is this a new dress code for your minions, brother dear? Naked and in love?''
''Not all of my 'minions', no. That would cause a scandal in parliament, and no-one wants to see the prime minister naked.'' He dipped a hand into his dressing gown pocket and handed a folded slip of paper to Anthea.
''You left this upstairs. I thought I'd better return it.''
She unfolded the cheque from the night before, holding it so that Sherlock could clearly see the ridiculously large amount over her shoulder before folding it back up. Mycroft raised a single eyebrow at his brother, interrupting the silent conversation he was trying to have with a very confused Dr Watson.
''Found whatever you were looking for?''
''Not yet. Now that I think about it, I might have lost it before we came here. Come, John, we have places to be. Such a surprise seeing you here. Do try not to break his heart. He's already at risk of heart attacks due to his lack of control over his diet.'' He led the way out of the room, stepping around Anthea with a quick glance.
''You're looking pale. Is my brother being greedy? More lack of control than usual then.''
''Its exhaustion, actually. We've been quite busy.'' Anthea hid her smile inside at the falter in both John and Sherlock's step, and closed the door behind them, waiting for the sound of the front door closing before she turned back to Mycroft.
''And what would you have me buy with this?'' she waved the cheque at him.
''I thought a house. Once this is all done with, you'll need somewhere better than your current address.'' He took the cheque back from her, his fingers brushing hers.
''It's already in your bank. I'll meet you at the door in an hour, if you'd call the car?''
She straightened her back, pulling together the persona she wore for work despite her lack of clothing.
''Will that be all, Mr Holmes?''
''Thank you.'' He sat behind his desk, already looking through the papers and files stacked there.
~
She met him at the door, black skirt and white shirt hiding her body from his gaze once more. She handed him the briefcase for the day and a flask of tea for the journey and opened the door for him to lead the way to the car.
Her phone held a long list of emails and messages that required responses, ranging from press offices asking for her advice on the many articles that had run that morning, to reporters who wanted a comment for their next piece, to the usual political machinations that required steering in a particular direction. She scrolled through them, getting rid of the reporters and journalists, sending a blanket press statement to the press and publicity teams, and reorganising the political news and events by importance, forwarding the ones that could be dealt with by someone with less demands on their time than Mycroft and his primary team. She finished the journey by searching through CCTV of Sherlock's actions over the past few days, sending John Watson a quick text to tell him that Sherlock's cufflink was most likely still at the Chinese they'd eaten at two days before.
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