MAY PART III

Mycroft folded his hands over his desk and considered her with a discerning eye. 'There is nothing I can say to change your mind, I take it?'

Molly shook her head. 'I cannot thank you enough for everything you have done for me. But it's time I moved on.'

'You have another position lined up then.'

Her momentary flicker of panic was all the answer he needed to his baited statement.

'Miss Hooper, I do not know what has transpired between yourself and my idiot of a brother, but surely this is not in either of your best interests. Pardon my bluntness, but I see how much you care for him. And, despite what you have been trying to tell yourself otherwise, he cares just as much for you.'

A blush stained her cheeks, but she lifted her chin up, determination in her eyes. 'My feelings were never a secret, Mr Holmes. It's his that you are mistaken about. And it's time I accepted that.'

oOo

'What do you mean, she's leaving?' Sherlock bellowed.

Mycroft busied himself straightening the papers on his desk. 'Just what I said, don't make me repeat it.'

'But-but why?'

'I assume it has to do with why I received a text from Anthea the other day saying Irene Adler had arrived on a charter flight from Karachi.' He gave his brother a pointed look.

Sherlock growled and dragged his hands through his hair. 'Bloody woman misunderstood the whole situation!'

Mycroft sighed as if disinterested (which he most certainly was not). 'Well, do try to clear it up. I would hate to lose Molly because you couldn't keep it in your trousers.'

The slam of his office door was the only reply to his barb.

oOo

Bing Bong

'Good morning ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain, Sherlock Holmes. If you don't know the usual Captain's monologue by now, the person beside you can fill you in. Short version: buckle up, tray up, seat up, and shut up. Miss Hooper, a word please.'

Bing Bong

'Now.'

oOo

The door to the cockpit opened and they both turned expectantly to Molly.

'Hello,' she greeted them briefly, flashing John a small smile, but refusing to make eye contact with Sherlock.

John looked between the two and excused himself. 'Well, I'm going to pop off to the loo; too much coffee this morning.'

Sherlock tried not to resent the way Molly widened her eyes in panic and watched John leave, almost helplessly. He stood, having to bend slightly to not hit his head on the low ceiling.

'You're leaving.' He hadn't intended to sound so accusing, but he felt betrayed and it came out rather harsh.

Molly finally met his eyes. 'Yes. I am,' she affirmed, as if daring him to defy her.

'If this is because of the other day-'

'It's because I need to move on, Captain Holmes,' she interrupted sharply. Sherlock eyed her warily. The abruptness of her departure had everything to do with Irene and where she thought they stood.

'Molly, I need to explain what you saw-'

'There's nothing to explain,' she interrupted and brushed down the front of her skirt with shaking hands. 'I misinterpreted something and that's my issue, not yours. It has nothing to do with my decision to leave. So there is nothing left to talk about.'

Lying. The accusing word was practically stamped across her forehead.

Sherlock nearly growled in frustration. 'That woman was Irene Adler, she was the flight attendant-'

'-before me, yeah, John filled me in,' Molly interrupted. She bit her lip, her cheeks flushed red, and she was clearly more angry with herself than with him. Sherlock found himself at a loss at the thought. 'What he neglected to mention was that she had returned and the two of you had, erm, picked up where you left off.'

Sherlock's eyebrows jumped to his hairline and he stepped closer. 'No, that's-'

'But, like I said, it's none of my business and by next week you'll have Irene back on board and I'll be gone.' She flashed him a bright, fake smile and spun around. She jerked open the door and strode out, giving a haughty glare to John, who jumped back and tried to pretend he hadn't been eavesdropping.

'What happened?'

Sherlock shoved past him and followed Molly into the galley. 'I don't want you gone,' he snapped. 'I want you here. Right here. In my plane.'

'My plane,' Mycroft corrected from the entrance.

Sherlock ignored the interruption and crowded behind Molly as she bustled about putting together the cart, her hands shaking.

'Molly, will you just stop!'

'I have to prep the drinks and give the pre-flight instructions, Captain,' her voice shook as badly as her hands. 'Shouldn't you be doing the walk around?'

'Yes, Sherlock, do not delay the flight even further,' Mycroft admonished.

'It's already been done.' Sherlock shoved past him and followed Molly into the cabin, where she pulled the lever to retract the stairs. The door shut and latched, the airtight seal working to stabilize the interior. 'Molly, listen to me-'

Both were unaware that they now had the undivided attention of not only Mycroft and John, but the full complement of passengers aboard their small airplane.

Furious, Molly whirled about and glared at him. 'I've done enough listening to you, Captain! I thought-I don't know what I thought, but the other night was very revealing as to exactly where we stand. So if you would please, get out of my way! '

Though just five foot four with heels on, she glared up at him with a ferocity that made Sherlock feel about three inches tall. He'd cocked this up, but he'd be damned if he let her go over a misunderstanding and his own stupidity.

If only she would just listen for one second!

'No.' He stood his ground and glared right back at her. 'Not until I've had my say. You may have made up your mind already, but you're wrong, and I'm trying to clear this mess up.'

'There's nothing to clear up, I got your message loud and clear, Captain, ' she snapped. Her glare threatened to burn him to the ground.

'For the love of aerodynamics, Molly!' he finally bellowed in exasperation. 'I'm trying to tell you that I bloody love you! '

Her eyes widened to cartoonish proportions and the plane descended into a stunned silence as he grabbed her arms and hauled her against him, planting what he considered to be a passionate, scorching kiss on her lips.

Utterly stunned, she was limp in his hold, her eyes blinking back at him as she tried to understand what was happening. But then, to his great relief, her eyes fluttered and she melted into his kiss. Her body relaxed and her arms slid up around his shoulders, anchoring her to him.

'I love you, too,' she whispered when they finally broke apart, both oblivious to the cheers and awws from John and their passengers and the fond eyeroll from Mycroft. She smiled up at him shyly, a twinkle in her eye. 'You clot.'

The fond way she said it made him smile. And if he thought his kiss had been passionate, when she pulled his head down and crushed her lips to his, his legs nearly buckled and it was as if he'd ceded control of the throttle and was just along for the ride.

And with Molly in his arms, he knew it was going to be an amazing ride.