Mycroft kept fidgeting in his seat. The time had come, once more, to resume his long abandoned diet, after having gained well over twenty pounds in the previous couple of months. The creaking of his chair and the strain of his clothes were more than a mere indication that it was high time for him to stop making excuses for himself. He checked his watch, which indicated it was well after six. He stared at the phone on his desk with pursed lips. Now, dieting was never particularly easy for him –most of the time it was quite torturous, in fact-, but he could manage, for the most part. However, if he was planning on rapidly losing more than twenty pounds, well… he looked down and gazed upon his overfed belly. With a loud sigh, he pressed a white button on his phone.
-Anthea, please bring me my clothes. I'll meet you upstairs in ten minutes.
-Of course, sir.
The black bag was placed by the side of his desk by his secretary, who then left swiftly and without saying a word. As soon as the door closed behind her, he opened the zipper and stared at the contents with a grim look on his face.
Exactly ten minutes later, Anthea greeted him with a fleeting smile as he entered the gymnasium. He felt positively ridiculous in his sports gear, but she really didn't seem to even notice the change. As he climbed onto the treadmill, she kept typing furiously on her phone.
-Ten minutes will be fine, for a start.
Without looking away from her phone, she raised an eyebrow.
-We've discussed this already. Twenty minutes.
He scowled but said nothing as he pushed the buttons and set the machine for twenty minutes at a fairly slow pace.
Mycroft could feel his stomach jiggle with every step he took, and he kept having to pull his shirt down, as it rid up over his belly mercilessly. He silently thanked the heavens for being alone with Anthea at the gym that night. Company would have only made him more miserable.
It didn't take too long for Mycroft to run out of breath. He huffed loudly, he contorted his face, he cleaned the sweat off his forehead more than once, but Anthea was immutable. He checked the clock on the machine and groaned. He knew he wasn't going to last another eight minutes on that hellish contraption, but Anthea was there to make sure he did.
He kept running, but he slyly drew his hand closer to the console in front of him while she wasn't looking. He was incredibly close to pushing the stop button when Anthea's iron fingers grabbed onto his wrist. She had never raised her eyes from her phone.
-Anthea, I'm exhausted.
His voice was breathier than he had expected.
-Seven more minutes, sir.
-I… I honestly can't.
She didn't answer that time, and Mycroft resented being ignored.
-Do I at least get to… you know.
Anthea eyed the purse by her feet for a fraction of a second and Mycroft smiled.
Exactly three more minutes went by, and Mycroft's excitement about the incentive on Anthea's purse had faded away completely. This time he was fast enough to avoid Anthea's grip, and the machine came to a sudden stop. A completely worn out Mycroft Holmes spent a whole minute trying to regain his breath while still standing on it. His PA had finally put her phone away and was staring at him with pursed lips. She was clutching onto her purse for dear life. Mycroft was still breathing heavily when he spoke.
-Anthea…
-Don't even think about it.
-I was just three minutes short!
-Four.
He remained silent for a second, as he, not too dignifiedly, bit his lower lip.
-Please? I'll do those four minutes next time, I promise.
Now it was her turn to stay silent for a bit, as she considered her options. A second later, two chocolate-covered, cream-filled donuts emerged from her purse.
-One would think I would have learnt you are full of crap by now.
He took one donut in each hand, and took an eager bite from each with a relieved sigh. She shook her head with a resigned smile.
-Maybe one day, darling.