A/N: Written after a suggestion from SilentRaven97. This short one-shot follows on from 'The Sickness Inside'.
"Did I miss anything?" Mycroft asked as he climbed into his private, chauffeured car.
"No, Mr Holmes." Anthea replied without looking up from her Blackberry, "I'm monitoring the situation with the North Korean ambassador, but there's nothing that you need to deal with urgently."
"Good. Thank you." Mycroft replied, glancing at her before he looked out of the window. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking about his and Sherlock's secret. He'd considered telling Anthea, as he'd considered with all of his assistants. She was the most reliable and trustworthy assistant he'd had so far and even had a key to his private residence.
Mycroft shook his head a little, swallowing down the all too familiar burn in his throat. Anthea was not only the most successful assistant he'd had, but also the one that smelt the most enticing. Her scent of her blood was rich and deep, a taste that Mycroft was particularly keen on. After so many years as a vampire, he'd learnt how to control his cravings, but being stuck in a car with Anthea when he was thirsty was still a challenge.
"Mr Holmes." Anthea said softly.
Mycroft blinked and turned towards her, his thought process stopped in its tracks. He paused, trying to keep his expression neutral as he saw what she held in her hand.
"I know it's not fresh, but it should do the trick until you get your next delivery from Molly." Anthea said, handing over the hospital blood-bag that she'd just pulled out of her handbag.
"How-?" Mycroft started, accepting the bag from her.
"It's my job to know. You always frown a few days before Molly visits." Anthea explained with a smile.
"Thank you, Anthea." Mycroft replied, his lips pulling upwards into a slight smile as he looked down at the bag.
Anthea casually averted her eyes as Mycroft drank down the blood. She accepted the empty bag from him and put it back in her handbag.
"I hope I won't have to threaten you." Mycroft said, watching her curiously.
Anthea chuckled, "That is hardly necessary. I'm sure it would be embarrassing for the both of us." she replied.
"I could hurt you." Mycroft reminded.
"Yes, but so could any other agent or criminal." Anthea replied with a shrug, "That's the danger of our work."
"Brother dear." Mycroft addressed his brother as he and Anthea arrived for the Christmas party at Baker Street.
"Mycroft. Was there really no work that could keep you away?" Sherlock asked with a frown.
"Sadly, no." Anthea spoke up with a smile, "Could we come in?"
John pushed his flatmate out of the way, "Come inside. Molly is already here. Just a warning, she's brought Tom." he said, stepping back.
"Oh, joy." Mycroft said sarcastically, stepping into the flat after Anthea.
"Mycroft." Anthea chuckled softly.
"Are you two-?" John started, looking between them.
"Anthea is my bodyguard." Mycroft replied smoothly.
"She's your goldfish." Sherlock said, "How pedestrian."
"Excuse me, but I'm no goldfish." Anthea replied with a raised eyebrow.
"Honestly, she is my bodyguard." Mycroft said, winking to his assistant, "I would never cross Anthea."
Mycroft and Sherlock walked away to speak to Molly, leaving John and Anthea alone beside the coat-stand.
"So you know too?" John asked.
"They're not nearly as secretive as they think they are." Anthea replied, hanging up her coat.