Chapter one

John leaned back in his seat and popped one of his sweets in his mouth in preparation for the pain he knew he'd feel in his ears when the jet took off. He turned to his left and offered one to his friend

"Do ya wanna sweet?" the question was slightly muffled but Sherlock understood the army medic perfectly.

"No thank you john, if I do feel any pressure around my Eustachian tube I'm sure a yawn will suffice to sort it out" Sherlock responded quite sharply, he stretched his legs forward and leaned back, blowing upwards so that his mop of hair lifted slightly out of his eyes.

John rolled his eyes and huffed "Suit yourself, you miserable git", to be fair to Sherlock John had kept him up the night before when the rest of his training regiment decided to celebrate finally completing training and being deployed to Kabul in Afghanistan. Obviously, Sherlock wasn't joining their drunken antics so instead missed out on sleep as his friends had kept him up doing stupid things like seeing how many beers it would take for John to start singing 'them bones' then start dancing around with the skeleton they'd sneaked out from the med bay and giving him lots of alcohol in the hopes of putting the man's theory that he didn't get hungover to the test.

Sure, enough John felt fine the next morning when their Captain woke them up to go to Gatwick, Sherlock however, did not feel fine- he had a headache and did not do well in confined spaces with little to do. Sherlock ignored Johns little dig and began to flick through the films on the tv in front of him. Suddenly he felt the seat jolt behind him as Mary jumped into the row behind, he turned around to glare at her and said;

"Was that really necessary Morstan?"

Mary leaned forwards and ruffled his curls; "We're not on duty Sherlock, just Mary will do. I really hope you're not this moody for the whole flight, we have 12 hours of this John will you sort your boyfriend out?" she turned and directed the end of her sentence to John who was flicking through the magazine he pulled from the pocket in the seat in front.

"Not my boyfriend. Not Gay." John muttered not even bothering to look up from the page.

"I never said you had to be gay, Jawnnnnnn" Mary said in a sing song voice.

"Do sit down Officer Morstan!" Captain Dimmock shouted down the aisle, before disappearing down the steps and onto the tarmac to welcome the second lot of soldiers arriving from other training camps.

Sherlock sat up as other soldiers made their way into the aircraft, he had glanced at the briefing document in the early hours of the morning- his photographic memory helping him remember that as well as his group leaving from 32MICoy they were being joined by; ITC Catterick, Dems Training regiment, 31MICoy and the Specialist weapons school. John had been stationed at ITC Catterick for the first year of his training until being transferred to 32Mi when it was clear he needed to improve his combat skills on top of his medical ones and to complete his training as an officer; he had met Private Molly Hooper when he was at Catterick and looked out for her as the crowd of soldiers boarded the plane.

"Lestrade!" Sherlock yelled and John brought his attention towards a slightly older man with greying hair and a tan. The badge on his green beret told John he was a Lieutenant belonging to the intelligence corps like Sherlock, Johns hands tightened around his own blue beret with the RAMC (Royal Army Medical Corps) badge on the side. They had been giving their berets and badges at their pass out parade, neither Mary, Sherlock or John had wasted time in putting their badges on.

Lestrade didn't seem to look up as he walked down the aisle muttering to himself, it was only when John saw the familiar face of Hooper touch his arm and point towards where the three were seated that Lestrade acknowledged Sherlock.

"Sherlock! You devil, how have you been? This is my friend Molly Hooper we met just a few moments ago when the Brigadier gave us a bollocking for swapping berets" he stuck his hand out towards Sherlock and watched as Sherlock just gazed at it confused.

John leaned over to whisper in his ear "Shake his hand you berk", Sherlock awkwardly grasped Lestrade's hand, he chuckled and said, "I should've remembered you weren't one for physical contact, good job you're our HUMIT specialist and not our linguist eh?" he grinned and clocked Mary, putting out his hand to see if this woman knew what a handshake was.

"Linguist, that would be me, Mary Morstan nice to meet you. Seeing as though Sherlock has forgotten his manners, allow me to introduce John Watson our medic, he will probably save your life at some point in the future." She shook Lestrade's hand and moved out into the aisle to hug Molly.

"Hello again, we met last summer at the women's night, didn't we? Glad to know Kabul won't be an all lads camp!" Molly threw her bag down onto the seat next to molly and threw her blue beret at John. "Watson! We match finally! You must tell me everything since we last saw each other." As the group were getting acquainted, the crew were boarding the final officers and preparing for take-off.

Lestrade launched into his story about the last time he was on tour and the Brigadier pissed him off so much he stole his fridge.

…"and what's worse is the pompous git has actually held a grudge about it. I mean for god's sake we returned the fridge, didn't we? I swear I could give him the secrets needed to take down the Taliban and all he would do is tell me that he can't trust my word due to the fact I nicked his fridge when I was an officer 3 years ago! He does my nut in, more preoccupied with ticking boxes than taking down the bad guys." Lestrade's hands flailed as he became more invested in his tale.

Mary laughed and asked, "Which Brigadier is it?"

"Holmes! Any relation Sherlock? Come to think of it he has a stupid first name too, Michael? Mycroft! "Greg laughed and didn't notice his friends faces go blank.

"I could say the same about your last name Gregory Lestrade, is this seat taken?" Greg went pale and turned to see Brigadier Holmes in his uniform standing over him.

This was Sherlocks queue to start pissing himself "Greg this is my brother Mycroft, I take it you've met?"

"Oh dear" Lestrade thought, "this will be a very long 12 hours" …