Praesent modo adiutore

Promotion to PA, November 2004

Anthea knocks on Mycrot's office door, a post-it note in her hand with the message 'My office, when you are free' scrawled across it in what is obviously Mycroft's handwriting. It had appeared on the edge of her computer screen as had come back from the afternoon meeting. Mycroft calls to enter. Opening the door, Anthea steps through, closes it behind her and freezes. Mycroft is leaning against the front of his desk, arms folded and peering intently at three formal dresses hanging on a collapsible clothing rack.

"Sir?"

"Oh it's you. Good."

Anthea steps forward, stopping just short of his desk. She raises an eyebrow and nods towards the dresses.

"Something I should know about, sir?"

Mycroft smiles, and replies in a sarcastic tone. "Not for me, Anthea."

"Never said they were."

"Which one do you like the most?"

"Of the dresses?"

"Mmm."

Anthea examines the dresses, head tilted slightly to the side. The first dress was green with a full-length skirt and strapless. The second and third was the same dress in two different colours. One purple, one blue, just below the knee, empire line with lace detailing on the back.

"The blue one."

Mycroft nods. "I thought you might pick that one. It was between the blue and purple. I don't pick you for a green person."

"How- oh never mind. Why are you asking my opinion on dresses?"

Mycroft steps forward, takes the blue dress of the rack, places it into a dress bag before handing it to Anthea.

"Yours now."

Anthea takes it. "I'm sorry, but what? You giving me a dress wasn't in the contract."

"No, and I do hope you will forgive me for taking the liberty but we are short on time. Tell me, would you have something appropriate to wear to meet royalty back in your flat?"

"Uhnn no, and royalty, sir?"

"Yes. The Queen, to be precise. She requested a meeting." Mycroft glanced at Anthea. "Oh don't look so terrified. Elizabeth is lovely."

"You're on first name terms with the Queen. The Queen of England. I'm an office aide. What am I going to do? What do I say?"

Mycroft chuckles. "You will be fine."

Slightly panicked, Anthea turns to look at Mycroft, dress in one hand, the other on her hip. "Fine? What-"

Mycroft cut her off, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Anthea. I wouldn't not have said I was bringing you if I didn't think it was going to end well."

Anthea took a breath and nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Go home, change and get ready. I will be around to pick you up at six. Why you decided to live in Camden, I will never know." He releases her, before pushing her gently towards the door, an exasperated look on his face.

Anthea shrugs as she goes. "It has charm. And that only gives me two hours."

"Make it quick, then."

Anthea rolls her eyes as she moves out the room. "Yes, sir."

Six o'clock on the dot there was a tap on Anthea's front door.

"I'm coming, I'm coming."

She checked her appearance one last time in the mirror before picking up her back and coat, swiping her keys of the kitchen bench. She walks to the door and opens it to find Mycroft standing on the other side. He's dressed in a new suit; dove grey with a slight pinstripe, antique white shirt, dark grey waistcoat and a tie the exact same colour blue as her dress. He steps forward, kisses Anthea on the cheek before offering her his arm. She pulls her door shut, locking it and tucking her keys away before taking his arm.

"Good evening, sir."

"Evening, Miss Jones."

They make their way down to the car waiting for them, Mycroft holding the door open while Anthea slides in. He joins her, closes the door and taps once on the glass and they are off. They sit in silence for a while, Mycroft tapping out a rhythm on his thigh, Anthea gazing out the window, fiddling with the chain around her neck. Mycroft lets out a breath before turning to Anthea.

"Any questions?"

Anthea scoffs slightly. "Uhmm, we are actually going to meet the Queen?"

Slightly puzzled, Mycroft replies. "Yes. I wouldn't lie about something like this."

"Sorry. Yes. Just, not exactly what I expected."

"You know partially what I do. Why are you so surprised?"

"Yeah, I know theoretically what you do. I just organise things." Anthea shrugs before continuing. "Rosters. The archives. Paperwork. Why me?"

"I like you."

"Good to know." Anthea shakes her head. "But in all seriousness, why?"

Mycroft glances at Anthea, before turning back to his phone. "You can read people. You don't think that you are, but you subtly change yourself depending on whom you are speaking to. It's a slight manipulation of people to get what you want." Anthea opens her mouth to speak. Mycroft stops her, holding up one finger. "I'm not done. You pick things up quick, know what needs to be done without having to be told. You're organised. Dreadfully organised. It puts me to shame how quick you can get through paperwork. You remember things. Never make the same mistake twice. And as I said, I like you."

Anthea stares at Mycroft, a shocked expression on her face. "Okay then."

Mycroft turns his attention back to his phone, a slight smile on his face. He waits, letting Anthea digest the information. "There is no one else who I would have brought tonight."

Anthea nods, turning away for a moment. She turns back to Mycroft. "That aside, what do I actually say?"

Mycroft chuckles and tucks his phone away. "Call her ma'am. Let her initiate the conversation. Watch her. You will pick up on the cues. And I'll be there. I don't expect you to be too involved, dear."

The car stops, and a butler opens Mycroft's door. He steps out, before reaching a hand back into the car.

"Welcome to Buckingham Palace."

Anthea steps out, peering around. The gardens are perfectly manicured, and the sheer size of the building in front of her is nothing she has seen before. She whistles low. "Fancy." Mycroft shoots a curious look at her. "Most people spend their lives imagining what this looks like, not actually getting to go inside to have dinner with the Queen. Give me a moment." She has visited Buckingham Palace before. Stood outside the gates with her sister and pointed out the guards. Anthea never actually expected to set foot inside.

They make their way inside, an attendant that clearly knows Mycroft waving them forward.

"Mycroft Holmes, a pleasure as always." He turns to look at Anthea. "And who is this you have with you?"

Mycroft shakes his hand once, before stepping back and presenting Anthea. "Eric, let me introduce you to Anthea Jones, my personal assistant."

Anthea barely blinks at the comment, before taking the proffered hand and a murmured "Pleasure to meet you." As they follow Eric, Anthea leans into Mycroft. "Personal assistant? Where did that come from? I'm an office aide. I do the paperwork."

Mycroft merely grins. "Didn't I mention? You're getting a promotion."

Anthea gapes for a moment before whispering in reply. "You could have mentioned that sooner."

"Oh relax, you're doing fine."

They round a corner to a small drawing room, where Eric leaves them to wait. Mycroft gestures to one of the chairs, waits until Anthea has seated herself before sitting down opposite her. The rest of the evening passes in a blur. A meeting that Anthea still can't quite believe, dinner on plates that Anthea is fairly sure costs more than her apartment alone and tea after. Sharing tea with the Queen. She greeted Mycroft warmly, made polite conversation with Anthea. Discussion topics ranged, some seeming more important than the others. It gave Anthea an insight into just how important Mycroft was. Mycroft drops her back at her flat, requests a meeting when she comes in tomorrow.

Anthea sleeps, wakes up late but still manages to arrive on time, coffee in hand as she knocks on Mycroft's door.

"Come in."

Anthea enters, balancing the cups expertly in one hand as she opens and closes the door. She walks over, hands one to Mycroft before sitting in front of his desk. He sips, makes a pleased noise before placing the cup down.

"Whatever did I do to deserve coffee? And you're drinking it to."

"One of those mornings, sir."

"I see." He holds out a file. Anthea reaches for it, placing her own cup down on the desk as she takes it and opens it. She reads through it, twice. She goes back to check she read it right, checks the figure written at the bottom of the page. It's more than she has ever had as a salary. More than she was ever expecting to get as a salary in her life. Despite Mycroft's words last night, she isn't even sure she is the right person to take this position.

"Before you say it, I think you are the only person for this position."

"How did you know?"

"I'm a Holmes. Once you meet my brother, you will realise what that means."

"You, have a brother?"

"Yes. And a mother too, surprisingly. But we haven't spoken in a while."

Anthea nods towards the file in her hand. "What else does this entail? Being your personal assistant."

"I won't throw you in the deep end. But eventually, you should be capable of running this place when and if I need to go somewhere. Which means meetings with government, international arrangements. Communication with Clarence House. But to start with, you'll attend all meetings I do. And have free range of the IT department."

"Free range?"

"Whatever you want it's yours."

Anthea exhaled. There were a few projects she had lurking in the back of her head. A few ideas on how to improve her blackberry. If she could get them to work, it would change the way she used her phone. "This is dangerous."

"Come again?"

"Letting me into the IT department. I may never leave."

"That is rather the plan." Anthea looked up and met Mycroft's gaze. A moment passed and she understood the implications. Mycroft wanted her around, rather prematurely. There would be no other job offers, nothing else. He could make sure of that.

Anthea held her hand out. "A pen, please."

Mycroft handed her one. Anthea flipped back to the last page of the contract. Signed her name. Her real name. Signed the copy before handing the file and pen back to Mycroft. In return, he handed her a new access card.

"24 hours. No limits. The only place it can't get you is this room. There may come a time when that is necessary, but not yet."

"Understood, sir."

Mycroft turns back to his computer, making notes in the open file next to it. Anthea should go, but she doesn't. Just sits and drinks her coffee. She should go and continue with the archives organisation. She feels like something bigger should have happened. Her life has changed in that moment. Had started on a path that she isn't too sure where it leads. She hasn't thought that far ahead. Doesn't dare to. For now there's coffee and work to do.