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"Good Morning Sir, and what can I get for you today?"

"One large coffee, black. Thank you"

"And can I have a name to put with your order, sir?"

Mycroft stared over the counter, his eyes narrowing at the bubbly young barista.
 

"No."

She didn't seem fazed, typing something into her computer, and told him the total.

"That should be right up for you!" She smiled at him, eyes twinkling. He was perplexed. He had been brisk and a little bit rude to her. Most people didn't interact with Mycroft Holmes in such a ...chipper way.

He waited at the end of the counter as was expected, and watched appraisingly as the younger male barista poured his cup. The youth looked at the ticket, puzzled, and turned to the brunette woman at the till
"who's this for?"
"Oh! You...I'll take care of it, Jeremy"
"His name can't actually be..."

She had moved to the end of the counter, her dark brown eyes locking with Mycroft's, and she smiled brilliantly at him.

"Your coffee's ready, Control."

Mycroft nearly dropped his umbrella.

"I...thank you..." his voice trailed off, speechless

"Name's Anthea. Have a good day, sir. Try to avoid any international incidents with South America, yeah? Bad for business."

"I'll...do that."

After he'd finished the cup, he realized she had been wearing a nametag the whole time
One that most certainly had not said "Anthea."

He obviously needed more coffee.
 

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