"John, will you please stop staring." Sherlock snapped in an irritated fashion.

"I can't help it." John said through his wide grin. "It's just uncanny."

"I personally don't see it." Sherlock said coldly while he flipped through a magazine.

"You've got to be joking. It's like a shorter, ginger version of you."

"The nose and chin are similar." Sherlock said following John's gaze. The cabin crew were arguing in the galley. Martin was standing in the perfect spot for Sherlock and John to be able to see him. The pilot seemed to be growing redder by the second, his face starting to match his hair. "Less prominent cheekbones and a rounder face." Sherlock finished his analysis.

"Still, the resemblance is amazing."

"If you insist." Sherlock said dropping the subject.

John went back to staring at Martin He was making his excuses for being late but it seemed that Carolyn wasn't having any of it. John sipped his tea and tried not to be obvious that he was looking, after all he didn't want to seem weird or like he was prying. But it was like being in a bizarre alternate reality where Sherlock was not only a pilot, an actual human being.

With John and Sherlock growing quiet, the cabin crew's voices carried so John could hear them. "This is your job Martin and I expect you to be on time."

"I'm sorry Carolyn but I was busy doing the job I actually get paid to do. It just took a bit longer than I was expecting."

"And what's your excuse?" Carolyn asked turning her attention to Douglas.

"I was rather busy having dinner." Douglas answered simply.

"Oh how rude of us to interrupt your feast!" Carolyn replied snidely.

"With my daughter." Douglas finished. "Who I never get to see."

"Doesn't she live with you?" Arthur asked.

"No, she sadly has the unfortunate luck of staying with her mother, the first Mrs. Douglas Richardson."

"Listen up you two. I cannot keep clients waiting while you lollygag doing whatever you please."

"But Carolyn I—"

"Shut up Martin." Carolyn shot back. Martin opened his mouth to say something but then shut it firmly.

"So the question becomes, why are we still keeping the clients waiting? Shouldn't we, I don't know, start actually flying the plane?" Douglas interjected.

"Look, I'm getting paid an inordinate sum of money to take these two to Paris. The man who booked the flight said that they are to get there as quickly and comfortably as possible. That means no mistakes gentlemen and none of your regular foolishness."

John grew concerned. He looked over at Sherlock, who had finished his tea and had his phone out, texting away. "Did you book this flight?" John asked.

"Of course not. I told you Mycroft took care of everything." Sherlock replied not even glancing up from his phone.

John relaxed. He was somehow fine with Sherlock's older brother paying for everything. He and Sherlock did not have inordinate amounts of cash to be paying for this trip. But that begged the question why Mycroft was paying for it. Why was he being so accommodating? Then again, John had no idea why they were going to Paris in the first place. Did the case they were on have something to do with Mycroft? Maybe he was the one who had brought the case to Sherlock and therefore felt the need to pay their expenses for the trip. It was the only logical conclusion.

"So are you going to tell me about the case we're on or are you going to continue to leave me in the dark?" John asked trying to start up a conversation.

"You'll know when you need to." Sherlock answered cryptically.

So much for that, John thought as he slumped down in his seat. It was going to be a long flight.

"This is ridiculous." Sherlock grumbled and was out of his seat in seconds. John quickly got up to follow him, recognizing that Sherlock was in one of his moods. He would probably insult the entire cabin crew and get them kicked off the plane.

"Excuse me, might we expect to be in the air soon or should I just plan on dying of old age while I wait?" Sherlock asked, his voice louder than necessary.

"Sherlock." John said through gritted teeth.

"Of course, we will be in the air momentarily." Carolyn said being appeasing because of what they were paying her. John offhandedly wondered just how much Mycroft had generously given for this trip.

"Good. We'll see if your seemingly incompetent staff can handle it." Sherlock's eyes flashed with malice.

"Hey!" Arthur said offended.

Sherlock turned on his heels and went back to his seat to sulk. John looked at the cabin crew, who all looked unhappy and slightly murderous. He couldn't really blame them. "I'm so sorry." He said, very familiar with apologizing for Sherlock's behavior

"Douglas, Martin please go to the flight deck and get us in the air as quick as you can." Carolyn instructed them. They both grumbled under their breath but did as they were told.

"I really am terribly sorry." John apologized again.

"Not to worry. Come along Arthur, let's see about putting the dinner on."

"He's not at all like Miss Marple." Arthur said sadly as he followed his mother. John went back but chose the seat as far away from Sherlock as he could get. He knew there was no reasoning with Sherlock when he got like this. A short film played welcoming them on board with Douglas pretending he was his own twin. John couldn't help wondering if people actually were thick enough to fall for that.

BING BONG. This is first officer Douglas Richardson. We'll be taking off in a moment and apologize for the delay. We certainly hope no one has died during the grueling wait, as that would be a crying shame. Thank you.

John snorted and looked over at Sherlock He had his jaw tight and his hands were clenched into fists. Honestly the man did not know how to take a joke. He looked as if his head was going to explode. John watched Carolyn hurry into the flight deck, probably to yell at Douglas.

Arthur appeared at the front of the cabin, looking unsure. John raised his hand to give a little wave and Arthur smiled. Bounding down the aisles, he came and sat down next to John, ignoring Sherlock as he passed completely.

"So what do you do John? Are you like Sherlock's plucky sidekick?"

"Oh god I hope not." John said making a face. He really hoped that wasn't how people saw him. "No, I'm a doctor. I was also in the army for awhile."

"Brilliant. So you've fired a gun?" Arthur asked excitedly.

"Yes, lots." John nodded

"And have you ever been shot?"

"I have in fact."

"Wow. So you're like a proper hero?" Arthur said blinking at him in awe.

"I really wouldn't say that." John had never considered himself to be one.

Arthur continued to ask John all sorts of questions about being a soldier until Carolyn came out of the flight deck. "Arthur, you're supposed to be putting the dinner on!" she yelled at him, appalled.

"Oh right." Arthur said getting up out of his seat. "I forgot."

"You're too modest John." Sherlock finally spoke up when they were alone in the cabin. "You've done some remarkable things."

"Doesn't make me a hero." John shrugged. "And I distinctly recall you telling me that heroes don't exist."

"I believe idolizing someone is foolish and a waste of time. Still, I stand by what I said just now. You're a remarkable man."

John stared at him for a moment. "You're not usually one for doling out compliments."

"I give credit when it is deserved." Sherlock said simply and turned away.

John continued to give his flatmate a funny look. This had been a strange day even compared to the usual oddness his life enveloped. A surprise trip to Paris, Sherlock's doppelganger, being called a hero not just by Arthur but by Sherlock of all people. This day was turning out to be very bizarre indeed.

A wave of exhaustion washed over him and he remembered how tired he was. It was uncertain how much rest he would get in Paris since they were on a case. That usually meant a great deal of running around and very little time to rest. It would be smart of him to take advantage of this opportunity to get some now. He pushed back against his chair to make it recline a bit and closed his eyes, prepared to sleep the entire trip to Paris.