Mycroft bore the wooden tray from the kitchen, steam curling from the teapot. Balancing it on one arm, he knocked lightly on the door, waiting for the voice within to call:
"Come in,"
Carefully he opened the door, finding the room dimly lit, his PA bent over her desk, sorting hardcopies of case-sensitive information. Computers could be hacked, paper files could not. This was not usually her area, but Mycroft could not trust anyone else regarding this information. Hearing the porcelain rattling, Anthea looked up, weary eyes brightening a little at the sight of the tray.
"Thank you," she said as he set it down. She was probably the only person in the world Mycroft Holmes fetched tea for. He'd cut a few sandwiches and she realized she was absolutely ravenous. As he poured her a cup she took a sandwich, devouring it while she turned to the papers again.
"Leave that for now," he said. "Have your tea, and then come to bed, it's very late."
"It wouldn't be the first all-nighter I've pulled," she said with a smile. "Besides, this should be finished tonight so it can be sent first thing,"
"I must insist you come to bed, you need your rest."
"Because of my condition, you mean," she leaned back, and he quirked a smile.
"That's exactly what I mean," he rounded the desk, handing her a cup of tea as he perched himself on the mahogany surface.
"Is this caffeine free?"
"It is," he nodded. She took a grateful sip, sighing delightedly as he served himself. He hesitated, before reaching forward to place his palm on the swell of her belly. His eyes held an expression few had seen, and one Anthea was glad to receive on a regular basis. "What did the doctor say today?"
"We're right on time," she answered quietly. "I called up Molly and she came with me since you couldn't." The tip of her finger traced the gold band he wore on his left hand. The lamplight caught the polished ring on her own finger. After a moment, he bent, pressing a gentle kiss to wife and then belly.
"Leave all this for the morning," he said quietly. Her eyes were warm, and she fought back a laugh.
"That's the first time you've said that to me."
"No it isn't," he frowned.
"Yes it is!" she giggled now, leaning up to kiss him. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I really should finish it, if I keep working it can be sent off by seven and-"
"And it will be waylaid by the post and not get there any sooner than it would if you finished it and mailed it by the afternoon," he said. "Come to bed, finish in the morning,"
"Hmm," she murmured as he bent to kiss her again. "Very well, but only because your son is kicking me," his eyes twinkled at her words. Mycroft was of course very pleased with the knowledge that soon he would be a father. He just would never admit it. Ever. "But first," she placed a finger over his mouth as he bent to kiss her again. "You must do something for me,"
"And what would that be?"
"Help me up," He tried not to laugh, helping her to her feet, finding her balance. "Come to bed, Mr. Holmes," he pressed the palm of her hand, a smile so gentle and reverent that Anthea knew it was only for her.
"Lead the way, Mrs. Holmes."