This is the promised follow up for Scrummy... This is its debut, it's not on the other site yet, - it will be but it comes here first - for the lovely (and very protective of Molly) Sammy Katz, and the always cute and fab (and utterly horrified by Daniel the creep) Morbid By Default.
Revenge may well be a dish best served cold, but no need to wait with Mycroft ready and willing to send his human pit bull in at a moments notice..
(All hail Moftiss etc.. Nothing is mine..)
Revenge is a dish best served cold
Mycroft Holmes is sitting in his office, it is a grand room, steeped in tradition, he is surrounded by solid mahogany, velvet, drab hues and gilded edges, portraits of powerful colonialists adorn the walls.
In short, it is the quintessential British Politician's office, this is a place where the important decisions are made, where battles and wars are won and lost before yoand I finish our finish our morning tea and toast.
Mycroft reclines in his high backed olive green chair, gold studs edge the upholstery providing him with a regal frame. He sits, fingers steepled under his chin, an unconscious ghosting of his little brother, - or is it?
You and I believe it to be, but we are better acquainted with the younger, therefore we assume it is a mannerism of his own, but maybe, just maybe, it came from the elder. - His face wears a worn look of introspection, he has an air of heaviness, of a burden to bear, one supposes this must be how a man with a 'minor position in the government' - especially a man in such a position with the great Sherlock Holmes for a little brother, - must often feel.
The door swings open and Anthea strolls in languidly with his tea things, her hands noticeably bereft of her ubiquitous blackberry. She places down the tea tray with a wink, and he notes the sliver of chocolate cake she has allowed him this morning.
Ah, Anthea, it is always assumed by lesser minds that Mycroft had hired her for her beauty, nothing could be further from the truth. She had a strikingly Holmesian ability to read situations and people, unlike a Holmes however, she was never ostentatious about it. Instead she flaunted her looks, hiding behind texting fingers, allowing the world at large to believe her just another pretty face coasting by on her looks, it was always to her advantage.
Of course Mycroft was not blind, nor was he a fool, he was well aware of Anthea's physical attributes, he simply perceived her to be more than a living doll, she was his equal, his better if he was truly honest. She was the Molly to his Sherlock, though a relationship seemed unlikely given his nature, if he were to ever to embark on the murky waters of romance, it would be with none other than her..
He nodded his thanks and she grinned knowingly in response, - after further reconsideration, it was certainly when, rather than if, Anthea would only allow him to dither for so long before she'd simply take the decision from his hands, - and once again, in keeping with the spirit of honesty – it must be acknowledged that he'd happily let her.
Anthea padded out on silent feet, the luscious thick carpet absorbing all sound, pulling the door softly shut behind her, she left him to enjoy his tea and illicit cake.
Mycroft had spooned sugar in to tea, stirred and was settling in to relax with the newspaper when his mobile started tinkling, Sherlock, he grimaced at the offending phone, picked it up and accepted the call.
"Phone calls, Brother mine? Hmm, must be serious indeed, please do tell, what I can do for you Sherlock? I am as ever, eternally at your service after all, I await your orders with baited breath."
"Mycroft, I don't have time for your smug platitudes, I need your help, for Molly. There is a predator working at Barts, in the pathology department who has made a plan to spend some intimate time with Molly, possibly without her prior awareness or consent. Get. Rid. Of. Him." Each word was gritted out through clenched teeth. "If you do not take care of this Mycroft, I will."
Mycroft was well aware of the danger this unfortunate individual was currently in, however unbeknownst to himself, he needed to keep Sherlock away, though he would do so for Sherlock's own sake, he couldn't care less for the fate of the other.
"Miss Hooper need not fear from him again, Sherlock. Anthea will lead a team of agents to his living quarters immediately. If he is a predator I'm sure there'll be ample evidence to incriminate him. If not it will be a simple matter to persuade him of the benefits of relocating to Lancaster. In this situation I believe it would be rather beneficial to his health."
"Thank you Mycroft." Sherlock's voice was subdued, humble, allowing Mycroft to hear his gratitude.
"There is no need to thank me Sherlock, Miss Hooper is family, without her things may have turned out very differently during operation Lazarus. Anthea will contact you when the situation is resolved."
Mycroft put his phone down and buzzed Anthea back in, he explained to Anthea the situation at hand, watching with amusement as her expression ran the gamut from bored detached curiosity to murderous fury.
Mycroft understood, at the thought of someone as pure as Molly Hooper getting hurt, even the Iceman himself felt a frisson of cold fury.
Transforming into what Mycroft privately thought of as her 'commando mode' - more than a little bit sexy, - Anthea strode out of Mycroft's office, hair streaming out behind her, a glossy Raven's wing, sweeping up her blackberry as she walked she began belting out orders.
She would oversee the operation herself, no one comes near Molly Hooper, as long as Anthea has breath in her body she will be the champion of the small, sweet pathologist whom they all owe so much to. She was without compare, the kindest human being Anthea had ever had the good fortune to meet, there were no ulterior motives with Molly, just honest simple love, and Anthea would do everything in her not inconsiderable power to make sure that no one damaged the rare light that shone in her eyes.
"Now Mrs. Camden," Anthea lowers her voice and shimmies closer to the edge to of the floral upholstered monstrosity she is currently situated on and leans forward to talk in a more confiding manner.
"Elizabeth, dear, call me Elizabeth, my, you're such a pretty little thing, are you single? My Daniel is single, he's such a good boy.." Mrs. Camden looks away and down as if she doesn't quite believe this herself but isn't sure what – if anything – can be done about it.
"Elizabeth, what a beautiful name," Anthea hits her wide eyes and an innocent fawning manner, "Well, as I was saying Elizabeth," a smile to show her gratitude at such a liberty being allowed, "Daniel is going to be offered a chance to help his country, but he will be required to move to Lancaster. It is of the upmost importance that this need is met, certain factions of the government are relying this to be achieved in order to keep specific national concerns safe."
"Lancaster though? How can he possibly help his country in Lancaster? I don't understand dear, is he..I mean, what about me?"
Anthea leans across and takes her hand knowing exactly the words to deliver in order to get her way, from all appearances this woman has nothing to do with the way has turned out, she is sweet and obviously tried hard to do the right thing, bad luck in her choice of husband had been the catalyst.
"It's all taken care of Elizabeth, there's a house waiting for you, with a lovely garden, there's a local bingo game every Thursday night and there's bush walking too with the seniors club! You'll love it there Elizabeth, and because he will be helping Queen and Country we are covering all the costs, removal specialists will come in and do everything while you have a relaxing stay in a spa for the week. You've done such a good job raising your son that we feel you deserve it."
Elizabeth's eyes lit up, she was surprised but proud, she had always hoped the sweet little boy he had once been would resurface instead of the sleazy, cocky show off he'd turned into.
Anthea sat on the bed tapping away on her Blackberry while she waited.
Hearing footsteps on the stairs she artfully arranged herself to show case her assets to best effect. She allowed her skirt to ride up her thigh as she lay back, a red lollipop completing the effect.
Daniel pushed his door open, "Hello? Oh erm, Miss..." He stopped at the sight of her, eyes wide with shock, and looked around as though looking for the camera that would ultimately betray him on a 'gotcha' style show.
Anthea took him in, slight, average height, sandy blonde hair and a smattering of freckles, not handsome but not bad looking, just a greasy vibe which would undoubtedly ruin his chances with any women of quality.
Plucking the red lolly from her mouth with an audible pop, Anthea cocked her head and asked, "Daniel isn't it?" Her voice low and seductive, eyes hooded.
Daniel stood in the door way nodding, seemingly capable of little else.
Anthea flowed up into a sitting position with easeful grace, she patted the bed next to her, purring, "Let's have a chat, shall we Daniel?"
Daniel obediently moved forward to sit. "Uh-uh-uh," she tutted waggling a finger, "Close the door first."
Daniel gulped visibly, shutting the door he shuffled over to sit. "Uh, I erm, I don't understand?" He managed eventually.
"It's very simple Daniel, shall I tell you what's going to happen?" She lay a hand on his thigh and rubbed back and forth very lightly.
Daniel's breath hitched, he stared at her hand on his thigh, red lacquered nails grazing him purposefully, he lifted his head slowly and turned and stared at Anthea wide eyed, "Yes, please." His voice breathy and expectant.
"I'm a friend of Molly Hooper's, and I've heard all about you," Anthea let the words drag out.
Daniel, gaining confidence now, gave her a lecherous look, "Ah, I see, she's been talking about me, huh?" He waggled his eyebrows at Anthea leaning into her space, "There's plenty of Daniel to go 'round."
Anthea's hand slid up his his thigh, her face hard as she hissed, "No Daniel, she hasn't been talking about you, you flatter yourself." Placing her hand over his manhood she began to apply pressure, her eyes locked with his, all pretence of seduction gone. "No, Daniel, the problem is, you've been talking about her, which is not a wise thing to do, not when she has friends like me. Do you understand me you little cretin?"
Daniel's voice was barely a gasp, sweat poured down his face as he nodded and rasped out with difficulty, "I'm sorry, I didn't, I didn't know."
"You will respect women for the rest of your life, you never ever touch a woman unless she gives you permission to, unless she asks you to, I don't care if she's naked and ready in your bed," Anthea tightened her grip wondering idly if he would pass out, "Understood?"
Daniel was sobbing now, red faced, ugly hitching tears with snot streaming down his face, "Yes, YES! Please just stop hurting me." He begged.
Anthea let go and sat back smiling at him like a teacher smiling at a pupil when the lesson had been learned well. "Now, you are a very lucky boy because I didn't find anything incriminating here. So, in light of that, and because you've got a lovely mum who's done nothing wrong, you're going to be allowed to move to Lancaster." She continued cheerily, "It's all sorted, a fresh start where you will treat women well, as you can see you never know when a potential hook up could go horribly wrong, you never quite know who will be watching you."
Daniel looked utterly terrified, staring at Anthea in confusion, willing to agree to anything not to be hurt again and all too aware of the heavily armed agents down stairs seemingly at her behest, his head continued nodding, - like a bobble head doll riding on a dash board.
"There is another reason you should eternally grateful Daniel, Sherlock Holmes sent me here in his stead, because he was worried that he'd kill you," Anthea told him in a friendly, almost conversational voice, "I think he exercised terrific restraint, don't you?"
She smirked at Daniel not really expecting much of a coherent response, just rather enjoying the game it offered, the feeling of power a cat enjoys when they play with a mouse before bothering to kill it for the feast that much surely follow.
"I can promise you he will not have the will power to do so again should he ever see you in London. Your resignation has been handed in at Barts, that's all taken care of and you have another job waiting. You leave London tonight and you speak of this to no one. You keep your nose clean and dot your I's and cross your tees and you will make your mother proud. If I ever find out you've even thought about trying to take advantage of a woman ever again, I'll be back to see you, but next time I'll be bringing Sherlock, and scissors."
Daniel sat slumped over on his bed,utterly devastated, tears ran freely down his cheeks and he looked shell shocked. "Okay, Miss, okay, I'll erm, okay, I'll do…that, yes, Miss." He looked pleadingly at Anthea, eyes begging her to please believe him and not hurt him anymore. "Can I, can I lie down a little please? I'll be good, - I won't, I'll be good, I promise."
Anthea nodded and stood to leave, she turned in the doorway, "This is a chance to be better Daniel, this is a gift, be deserving of it, make yourself a good life, you only get one." Leaving him to his pain she made her way downstairs to explain to his mother that he had been overcome after hearing about Queen and Country needing him.
Anthea sat at her desk outside Mycroft's office, feeling rather good, she had taken care of her friend and put a miscreant on the right track to becoming a worthwhile citizen and human being, sometimes people just needed a little push, and she was the woman to give it to them, speaking of someone needing a push in the right direction..
She picked up her phone and scrolled through the contacts list, "Sherlock? He's leaving tonight, after he's had a little lie down, had a bit of a tummy ache after I left."
Sherlock could hear the amusement in Anthea's voice, he imagined how that little pervert must've suffered at her hands, good. "So you found nothing and he begins a new life?"
"In more ways than one, he's a new man, he saw the light tonight." Anthea paused before continuing deliberately, "Sherlock, men will be interested in Molly as long as she's single, and she'll remain single until you come to your senses."
"Well, it's a good thing I have come to my senses then Anthea."
"Yes, Sherlock, it's a very good thing." Anthea disconnected the call and smiled to herself, drumming so her nails on her desk thoughtfully, one Holmes boy down, one to go.