The Holmes brothers were going to be the death of her, unless she decided to take matters into her own hands. Both Mycroft and Sherlock could be extremely difficult to handle, even more so when they were either bored or engaged in that ridiculous sibling rivalry of theirs.
They always claimed they were married to their work – married to their own intellects, actually – but she'd always known better than that. A goldfish would be far more to the point; the two men could definitely use something other than their own egos to focus their attention on.
(And her boss still had to learn his lesson when it came to underestimating all the people around him.)
Time to set her plan into motion, she thought as her fingers danced over the keypad of her faithful mobile phone.
xxx
Help me, she typed, and the text alert buzzed only a moment later.
Who are you?
You know who I am. I need your help.
Ask my brother. Unless he's too busy ruling the world.
Her lips quirked in a wry smirk. He's the problem, actually.
He always is. Interesting that it took you so long to figure out.
Shut up. Are you going to help me, or not?
Unfortunately the law of this country doesn't allow me to terminate him.
She chuckled, couldn't help it. Those two were so adorable when they pretended not to care about each other.
It's more about teaching him a lesson, I guess.
I'm in.
Good. I'll text you further details later on.
xxx
"Anthea?"
"Yes, sir?"
"You've been texting all day long. What's it all about?"
She smiled serenely and kept up the act. "Nothing, sir."
Mycroft raised a sceptical eyebrow, then turned his attention to the matters at hand.
xxx
My brother has requested that I stop texting his PA.
And you're going to do as he says?
Never.
Good boy.
Don't call me that.
Love you.
Shut up.
xxx
"I was wondering if I could take the evening off."
Mycroft only offered her a vaguely disgusted look. "A date?"
"With all due respect, sir, that's none of your business."
He paused. "Enjoy yourself, I guess."
"Thank you, sir. I will."
xxx
Tell Mycroft to stay away from my pathologist!
She's not 'your' pathologist, Sherlock.
That's not for you to decide.
Honestly, if I didn't know better I'd say you're jealous.
Absurd. Just tell him to leave her alone.
Or what?
I'm going to kill him.
Behave, darling.
Don't you ever dare to call me that!
xxx
"It appears that you've put one over on me. Bravo."
"If you say so, sir."
Mycroft's eyes bore into hers. "But not just on me, correct?"
"Your brother is quite oblivious, if that makes you feel any better."
"I'm still angry at you."
"I know."
"Good."
xxx
Your brother is sleeping like a baby. Do you want me to send a picture?
Please, spare me the horror of it.
What about your pathologist?
That's none of your business.
You're really a darling.
I'm done with this conversation now.
Goodnight.
Night.