Anthea was texting as usual as she waited for her boss's arrival. She stood outside the Canary Warf DLR station, her eyes flickering up once in awhile to see if John Watson and Sherlock Holmes were still within her line of sight.

She had just finished typing out her latest quicksilver observations when she received a new text. This text is from an unrecognisable number. A foreign number. She searched her mental records for the exact area code as she forwarded the text straightaway to Mr. Holmes. No one knew her number without a certain amount of government clearance and a foreign number could be a threat.

Once sent, she opened the message, curious to see its contents.

Unknown Sender 20:15

Don't you think Mycroft Holmes is brilliant?

Anthea raised an eyebrow, bemused. Who was texting her and why? How did this foreigner know her boss and what kind of inane question was that?

Two more texts arrive within seconds. She opened the one from Mr. Holmes first.

Mycroft Holmes (20:16)

On my way. Ignore him, number is a dummy.

She frowned and obeyed, closing her phone for a second to watch Sherlock Holmes and John Watson instead. The two were still crouched over the crime scene, whispering things that she couldn't hear.

Her phone is quick to alert her of another message and this time, to her surprise, she was not even given the option to "view message". Instead, the message flooded her screen:

Unknown Sender (20:18)

So you do and you trust him! Do you like the way he dresses?

Anthea shut her phone and glanced around warily. Whoever it was had access to CCTV? Or were they just intimidating her?

Her phone calls her attention again. Out of habit, she went back to it and found another message by the same mysterious person.

Unknown Sender (20:19)

I agree, he could lose some weight first...but he is a gentleman, is he not?

Anthea had a very strong urge to toss away her mobile. Clearly it was compromised and she was starting to feel just like one of the civilians she sometimes had to pick up for Mr. Holmes.

Unknown Sender (20:20)

But let me be blunt about this: Do you fancy Mycroft?

Anthea dropped her mobile.

John craned his head toward the DLR station when he heard something drop and watched with bewilderment as Mycroft's attractive brunette assistant stomped on her mobile. He was just about to ask Sherlock if he noticed when the man himself tapped John on the shoulder.

"Most likely Mycroft's orders, John. Now pay attention, I don't wish to go over this again..."