Disclaimer: I am aware that it is only about five miles from Neos Pirgos to Glifa. I don't care. The water was so choppy and horrible that I've spent the night in Glifa. And now I'm off to Neos Plantanos. I hear it's pretty too. I don't know or really care at this point. I detest being ill. I only hope that I can obtain some information about Eros or Mt. Olympus. Nope they still aren't mine and I'm still very poor…well, not so much as it was payday this week and I am gainfully employed.

A/N: Thought I'd forgotten didn't you? Well, I didn't. Here is the next chapter of The Assistant. Let me know what you think.

The Second Incident

It was two days before John's scheduled return when the second incident started. Mycroft had gone to the flat every day to check up on Sherlock. I think the teenager resented that more than a little. At least if his vicious statements every time Mycroft showed up at his door were anything to go by. I had been treated to some of the same until he realized that he could never upset me. Seriously after the life I'd had not much bothered me, a teenager spouting off because he missed his fiancé and hated that his older brother still saw him as a child was very low down on that list.

Mycroft dealt with Sherlock's…er temper tantrum in the only way he knew how; sniping back in that calm manner that infuriates Sherlock so much. I dealt with it with humor and gave as good as I got. After the first few days Sherlock gravitated to me when we visited and only sniped at me when I had been unable to come the day before. He liked having visitors even if he didn't know how to express it.

Mycroft had spoken to me after our first visit about Sherlock. He hadn't explained their life story but I knew enough to be getting on with. I knew for instance exactly why Sherlock was so distraught (don't tell him I used that word) over John's absence and why Mycroft was so concerned. No, Mycroft never used those exact words but I got the inference. John and Sherlock had only ever been separated a few times and John was Sherlock's stability. They kept each other grounded. I suspected that John was having just as difficult a time being away from Sherlock as Sherlock was being away from John.

Mycroft had also reluctantly informed me of "Sherlock's condition". I snorted mentally at his careful phrasing. I knew enough of Autism and its sister condition Asperger's to know what he was talking about. I didn't tell him about Aaron; that would have been uncomfortable and irritating. Instead I shrugged indifferently and went on treating Sherlock the same as I had on our first meeting. I suspect that Sherlock had an idea about Aaron and Mycroft too I suppose but neither of them ever mentioned it.

Right the event that cemented me as one of the Holmes' family. I'd nearly forgotten what we were talking about. So, John was due back in two day's time, Sherlock was irritable with his missing of John, Mycroft was concerned for his brother and I was, to be completely truthful, rather amused at them.

Mycroft had woken me with a phone call that morning at 3:52 am even though we'd only left the office at 1:30 am. I was more than a little irked with him but kept all my irritation from my voice while speaking to him over the phone. I, in turn, called Bryce to come and pick me up. He wasn't any happier than I was to be woken from a very much earned rest but he kept his grumbling to a minimum and was at the building within fifteen minutes. We swung by Mycroft's townhouse and then sped away to a destination the gentlemen hadn't informed me of. By this time it was nearly five and the sun was rising over London.

"Lord Acton-Myers has given his mistress sensitive information," Mycroft said as soon
as he'd stepped into the car.

How he could look so unruffled and calm after only an hour's worth of sleep and being informed of such dire tidings I'd never know. I kept my own face neutral as I typed furiously, checking on a number of our agents. Lord Acton-Myers was one of the few people who knew the names and locations of more than two or three of our overseas agents. "Sir? Where are we going?" The car was not headed towards any of the offices that Mycroft kept around the city.

"We will need outside help with this," Mycroft told me vaguely. I shifted my eyes to Bryce who was better versed in the language of Holmes than I was.

"He means Master Sherlock," Bryce told me.

"Oh," I said and went back to checking on the agents in the field. None of them had been compromised so far but that could change at any moment. I ordered them to give thirty minute check-ins until the crisis was resolved.

Mycroft frowned a bit and sighed heavily. "Unfortunately John isn't around to make Sherlock be reasonable. He's going to be unbearable."

I smirked behind the mobile in my hand. Half of Sherlock's bluster was only to anger Mycroft and I think even he knew it. "I could ask him, sir," I offered. Sherlock was far more likely to say yes quickly to me and this was excessively important.

Mycroft eyed me for a moment, considering and then shook his head with another sigh. "He'd only give you a hard time and tell me that I was a coward."

I shrugged but I knew he was correct. Sherlock would delight in tweaking Mycroft's nose for allowing his assistant to ask for his help.

We were both very wrong however. As soon as we showed up at Sherlock's door he held out his hand for the file Mycroft was holding. Mycroft handed it over with a bemused scratch of his ear. "Tell me everything you know," Sherlock ordered.

Mycroft drew in a deep breath. "Miss Margaret Welton is offering information on our agents to every country. She claims to know all of our agents in the field, even the deep undercover ones. She is offering to sell this information to the governments of each country where they are located in exchange for either a hefty amount of cash or sanctuary."

Sherlock flipped through the file, his eyes darting at a nearly impossible speed over the words. "How did she come by this information? Does she really have all of their names or is she bluffing?"

"Miss Welton is the mistress of Lord Acton-Myers," Mycroft said grimly. "He admits that he may have shared the particulars of our agents with her. Yes, she has all of their names. Lord Acton-Myers is one of the members of Her Majesty's cabinet and very close friends with both the PM and the director of MI-6."

Sherlock snorted derisively with a roll of his eyes. "Freddie's always been rather dim, Mycroft, and easily taken in by a pretty face. I'll see what I can do. Do you have a picture of her?"

I held back my snicker only by biting my lips. Mycroft grimaced. "You have never liked Lord Acton-Myers, Sherlock. Her picture should be in the file. We don't have long. Her messages said she'd be available for negotiating tomorrow at 7 pm. Though that may very well change if she knows we're on to her."

Sherlock had evidently found the picture of Maggie Welton and was studying it intently. "American?" His eyebrows rose. "Really? Interesting. Have you asked the American embassy if she's there?"

Mycroft shook his head and even I looked at Sherlock in astonishment. "Miss Welton was born and raised in Bath, Sherlock." I couldn't stop myself from giving a small nod of agreement.

"Mycroft," he growled out. "I am never wrong about nationalities and you know it. Miss Welton is American though she was raised in the Middle East from the age of eight or nine. Just look at the way she styles her hair." Sherlock pulled the photograph out and passed it to Mycroft.

Mycroft gazed at the picture for a moment and then scowled. "Call the American Embassy, Ariadne," he ordered. "Then, should that prove fruitless, ask our Libyan operative."

My eyes slightly wider than normal and my brain whirling with this new information I did as my boss and friend had bid me. I nearly choked on the information that came from the Americans. "Miss Welton was murdered in Libya nearly fifteen years ago, sir. Our Libyan agent reports that he has no information on her."

Sherlock smirked at me. "He wouldn't. Try your Israeli connections." He flopped down on the sofa and studied the ceiling while he waited for me to access the Israeli agents.

"Only the four that Lord Acton-Myers didn't know about are responding, sir," I informed Mycroft. "They have no information on Miss Welton."

Mycroft swore viciously in seven languages. "Call them home," he ordered. "I'm going to do something drastic to that annoying little fop! Ariadne, call the Israeli Embassy and see if you can get any information."

Sherlock looked over to Mycroft. "Impressive, I don't think even John knows all those words. And aren't the Israelis our allies?"

Mycroft gave him a small frown. "Yes, they are, but when has that ever stopped any government from keeping an eye on another? And there are always factions in any country that are xenophobic."

Sherlock leapt from the sofa. "I'll go check with my contacts." He shrugged into his coat and headed for the door. "Do not let him touch John's cake, Ariadne," he called over his shoulder. "Or I shall find the most embarrassing event to ever happen to you and sell it to the papers."

Mycroft affected a highly offended expression. "There is no need to threaten my assistant, Sherlock. I wouldn't dream of eating John's cake," he paused. "Besides I know you made it and I know better than to try to choke down any food that you have had a hand in. It isn't safe."

Sherlock scowled and swept out the door. "Do you think he'll find her?" I asked.

Mycroft smiled smugly. "Oh yes. However we will need to keep an eye on him and make sure he stays out of trouble."

I nodded though even our cameras on him at all times did not help us stop him from attracting the trouble.