Title: Taking Flight

Summary: The masks were just a part of the game. Sentiment is left for a real life. The truth is only for them. Spoilers for 3x03.

Author's note: This takes place in the final moments of 3x03 and is my first attempt at writing Sherlock and Irene so any input is welcome.

-II-

He prided himself on being able to walk the line. It was a fine line of moral integrity, woven so carefully and with great care that his mind only worked for that purpose and he became the master of it. Not many could see the both sides of the coin as he was able to. It served him well all these years, but the last one didn't leave him any other choice but to cross it.

Now, he had finally proven to the world that he is what they always thought he'd be. A murderer. No matter that it was the right thing to do, he still believes so. It didn't take long for him to figure it out. He had fallen because of one single thing he thought that he would never become. The sentiment that left him with nothing but the one thing and that was to get on the plane and never return.

Eastern Europe. Six months, Mycroft has said and he hasn't even flinched as he shook hands with his brother and possibly walked to his death. But then there was Mary with her kind, knowledgeable smile and a tight, warm hug and there was John with his steady handshake and a soldier's stance, being brave and stoic even in the worst of times.

By the time he made it to the plane the curtain has fallen, the last act over for the great detective, and away from the harsh light of day and the inquiring eyes he had to acknowledge that it was getting harder to stay focused, to think only of his job. How could he when all that he valued in his life was left behind on that runway. All he had to look forward to now were bleak days in some MI6 hideout in a city he wasn't even marginally familiar with.

He wrinkled his nose in discomfort. Even as distracted as he was the moment he had stepped onto the plane he'd recognized the perfume. Jasmine, vanilla and a hint of amber.

A seductive scent that had his mind working overtime in the past and now he could almost feel the way it just kicked him into a higher gear. Glancing over the compartments he saw nothing out of the ordinary. This all just didn't sit well with him.

Still the day's events stayed with him and he let his mind drift over everything that has happened. While he made himself comfortable in the chair he tried to come to terms with what all of it lead to. Not being Sherlock Holmes anymore just wasn't something he could get over.

"I knew that the only way for you to leave London is if you left in dramatic fashion. Once again you didn't disappoint." someone said, interrupting his thoughts. "Does this mean you are finally free for dinner? I won't bite, much, only if you want me to, Sherlock."

Looking to the woman that was sitting next to him, he just couldn't help but be impressed. Not wanting to be her dancing monkey, he decided a level of indifference would do the trick.

"Ms. Adler, what an expected surprise. You couldn't have been more obvious."

Seeing her lips stretch into a smile told him that she wasn't fooled by his antics.

"Come now, detective. Don't act like you aren't impressed with how I managed to get here without anyone noticing. Still an open book Sherlock, but don't worry, only to me."

The dark circles under her eyes told him that it wasn't an easy task and that worn out look just didn't do her justice. A tad difficult wasn't it. Yet her eyes shone, aware and ready to battle once more with his.

"I am not even going to ask. I just need a moment. It is so plainly clear- after all didn't you misbehave to get here."

The smile that lit up the mischief in her eyes was impossible to ignore. He has missed her.

"Naturally."

Not many things could make his heart pump as if he was solving the most important puzzle of his life and he didn't like it. It still irked him just how much of an effect she had on him. Shouldn't all this time that had passed without seeing her make things easier? Yet, the impact of her presence on him was like she never left, even worse than before.

"By the state of things, it seems to me the things weren't as easy as you hoped. Were they, Irene?"

A hint of concern in his tone just escaped him and he couldn't help but wince at the rookie move. She would never let him live it down. Opposite of him was the one and only Irene Adler and she had always managed to keep him on his toes.

She certainly noticed his slip, but chose to ignore it softly placing her hand on his shoulder, leaning slightly into his side. A look in her eyes just described something he wasn't ready to admit to, at least not yet.

"It was all worth it if I get to see you Sherlock. I am not impressed by many men."

Turning away to look out the window as the plane was starting down the runway, he delved into the unsaid. Still, he couldn't help that she was impressed by him. His past years without her and how he had somehow managed to survive without her guidance in his life could take some of those points. Once more he was trying to impress her.

Clearing his throat and feeling the warmth where her hand was placed he decided to divert onto other topics in hope to avoid more of the emotional entanglement.

"Well, did many things, interesting cases were impressive to most. Nothing that stuck out to much, except for Magnussen of course, cleaver one that man, but kept me entertained. Moved passed it, the usual, someone else defeated. Game is put to rest, for now."

In the middle of his little speech, she turned back towards him. Her eyes, even though tired, followed his every small movement excited at the stories in his life that he was sharing with her. She always seemed amazed at how he saw the world, others fascination with him and his detective prowess he understood, hers, not so much.

"Will you miss it, not having a worthy opponent to enjoy a battle of wits with?"

A teasing smile followed and he wanted to say that he had her, but the words wouldn't leave his mouth. She will always be a worthy opponent. Thinking back at how John and Mary had settled things to start their small family and how everyone genuinely would be better without his chaos to follow them around he answered.

"Ah well it was fun, will be again. Always able to find new cases, intrigue is all around they say. I will put it to the test. The world is big, lots to see discover and solve. Hopefully Mycroft doesn't plummet England to the ground without my presence, but oh well. One can only hope."

He knew that in spite of everything, he will feel homesick. At a later date, he will smell, see or hear something that will remind him of London and as much as he would like to be unaffected he knows it will be hard to deal with. It is just a place that he breathes, every street corner, building and curve of the stone it was built with. That comfort he will surely miss.

"Will you allow me to join you? Me and you, Sherlock, just enjoying the world- it would be divine. No matter what we have done we don't deserve to live through everything alone. We could finally enjoy our dinner, not having to expect the world coming to an end because of it."

Despite of her being who she was, the woman, taking what she wanted and when she wanted it. He saw that this small question once again threatens her weakness, the sentiment, and is putting her feelings on the line. She always was the brave one.

Taking her hand in his, while extending his finger to her pulse, he felt the quick and firm beat of it. It matters to her. It was the unsaid. Her own fingers extended to take his and he knew that she felt the rapid drum of his heart. This was not another game between them.

"Let's be honest there aren't many things that can hold my attention. It wouldn't be bad to have your company, if for nothing more than to hear how you spent your years since we last saw each other."

Mentally, kicking himself for not being able to say it more plainly and not having her feel like an object for diverting his boredom. Looking back at her he saw a serene smile, followed by a knowing look. His little wall never was strong enough to hide what he really meant when it came to her.

Curling her fingers around his, the warmth surrounding him, and somehow the fear of unknown just fades. She was always the one who brought out the best in him and with her he really didn't have to pretend. Neither of them did.

The masks were just a part of the game. Sentiment is left for a real life. The truth is only for them.

"Let's have dinner, Irene."

And really that was the only thing that mattered. With that the plane took off, leaving everything else behind.

"By all means, Mr. Holmes."