Revenge is a four letter word || Mycroft/Anthea
She’d booked the restaurant that they were eating at long before they even landed in Spain. It as a five star place, with reservations many months in advance. She of course, using strings she probably shouldn’t, was able to book them a table for a lovely dinner for two, long after the last meetings for the day were through.
However.
Things don’t always go as planned, and the formal Mr. Holmes found himself instead at the bar, in a back corner of the velvet booths, dining on hundred euro lobster and caviar. The restaurant was closed, thanks to an afternoon accident, and so dinner guests mingled with rowdy bar trash to dine. It would’ve cost a fortune, but they’d gotten it free, thanks to a stern voice and a pretty face.
She’d edged herself away from her employer, the more he drank at dinner, until she was perched at the edge of the round booth. One eye on her employer, the other on the crowd, she unwhittingly gave a man in the corner a smile, and up he came to talk to her, as if she could possibly be interested in him.
Mycroft was unamused. He had been expecting to be seated in a restaurant and not in a noisy, busy bar. He had chosen a booth as far away from the rest of the crowd as possible, choosing to eat his lobster and caviar in semi darkness rather than be forced to endure the incessant ramblings of drunk men at the bar.
As he sat there Mycroft looked around, an eyebrow arching upwards as he noticed Anthea edging to the corner of the booth, her eyes scanning across the crowded bar. Food momentarily forgotten Mycroft watched as a man approached her, wide smile on his lips as he surveyed her. Mycroft felt a momentary twinge of annoyance at the way the other man was looking at Anthea, staring at her, an almost hungry look in his eyes.
Mycroft was about to say something however he managed to stop himself. It was none of his business who Anthea talked to in her free time. She was entitled to do whatever she wanted. Clearing his throat he looked down at his lobster, suddenly not hungry. He lifted his glass of whiskey to his lips, taking a long swig of it as he watched Anthea out of the corner of his eye.
