The following morning, Mycroft was not quite sure what to expect when his car arrived at the usual time to pick him up, but he mentally battened down the hatches, preparing for the worst, as he slid into his seat. He stole a quick glance at Anthea - she had not reacted to his presence at all. Was she deliberately ignoring him? He looked at her more closely, she was wearing dark glasses and sat slightly slumped in her seat – no, she was not ignoring him, she was asleep!
He smiled at her in amusement, before saying loudly, "Good morning!". Anthea gave a start and sat bolt upright, looking around in obvious confusion. "How are you feeling?" he asked sympathetically, and more quietly.
"Terrible! I have a massive hangover." She removed the dark glasses and massaged her forehead, "And I'm more than just a little confused."
"You do look a little green around the gills - you're not going to be sick, are you?" She shook her head, wincing in pain at the movement. "Do you recall much of yesterday afternoon?"
"Only bits and pieces. Melissa said James took me home, and he told her that I had 'overindulged' at lunch? I don't understand it, that's so unprofessional - I never do that!" She picked her bag up and rummaged around in it before finally producing a bottle of water and a packet of paracetamol, she fumbled with the cap of the bottle, "I have a terrible taste in my mouth, it's almost like … like ... I've been slipped a mickey." Her eyes locked on his and she glared at him accusingly, "You drugged me!"
"Yes, my dear, but …"
"You better have a bloody good reason, Mycroft Holmes!" She gave up trying to open the bottle and rubbed her forehead again, "Damn!"
Taking pity on her, Mycroft wordlessly reached across and took the bottle from her. He twisted the cap off and waited until she had taken two of the paracetamol from the packet, then held the bottle back out to her, "Here." She angrily snatched it from his hand. "Do you think we can get a discount for a bulk order of those things?" he asked as she swallowed the capsules, trying his best to lighten the mood and diffuse the threatening conflict.
"Don't try your charm on me – it won't work!"
"It really was for your own good - honestly. Would you like a mint?"
She took the proffered mint, "This doesn't mean I've forgiven you! We need to have a serious discussion, sir. I think the office is probably the safest place."
The remainder of the journey to the office was completed in total silence, Anthea had retreated behind her dark glasses again, leaving Mycroft worrying about what she had in store for him … was she going to request a transfer or even worse resign? When he said he couldn't manage without her, he meant it.