Things were still tense three days later when Sherlock and Molly were on the plane to California. The last three days were busy with packing and explanations to their friends and saying goodbye. There was no time to talk about their little fight.

Sherlock didn't say anything to her the day before they were supposed to leave and the silence fell over them like a heavy piece of lead. If his aim was to make Molly feel horrible, it was working. She felt dreadful and what she once thought was a good decision, asking Mycroft, she now believed to be possibly the worst. Because for once Sherlock was right about their relationship; she shouldn't have gone behind his back like that. She should have gone back to the flat and convinced him to let her go. Mycroft was the easy way out. Molly knew deep down that he would go along with her, that he would send her with Sherlock.

She was sitting on the couch with a mug of tea in her hand, taking a break from packing, just as he was about to leave, to where, she didn't know. He was brooding and she hated seeing him like that, and hated it even more that she was the one who put him in that state. He had his hand on the doorknob when she spoke up, her first words to him in days.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock," she said softly, her eyes staring down into the hot liquid, trying to let the sweet aroma calm her nerves. He simply grunted and walked out, shutting the door behind him. She felt deflated, tears beginning to prick at her eyes threatening to fall over. What was the use of going with him if they were just going to fight the whole time? But in the next second the door opened again and he made three steps toward her. She looked up into his eyes and saw his expression soften a bit as he leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.

"We'll talk later," he muttered and then exited again, but Molly couldn't help but feel a little bit better.

Sherlock sent a text to Lestrade and John when he left the flat and climbed into a cab.

Angelo's. 12:00 –SH

Is this a date, Sunshine? –GL

What's wrong, Sherlock? –JW

I need advice. –SH

Stop laughing. –SH

Still laughing. But I'll be there –JW

Be there in ten. I'm recording this conversation, though –GL

For Sherlock, he was mad. And in his mind he had every right to be. He had always thought that Molly was on his side, not his brother's. And now his brother was putting his pathologist in danger for absolutely no reason. He didn't need someone there with him. Yes, Molly would be a comfort. But he would do anything to keep her safe.

He called Mycroft from the cab, his brother's voice putting him more on edge than what was normal. "You're putting her in danger," said Sherlock as soon as Mycroft picked up.

Mycroft sighed heavily, knowing that he would eventually receive a call from his enraged brother. "She's an important asset to this, Sherlock. She's been a part of this mission since the very beginning; you can't deny that."

"Yes but she has never been put in the line of fire…"

"She's the reason we were able to jail Moriarty in the first place! Dr. Hooper and I have an understanding, Sherlock. I will assure that she won't be put into any danger."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and looked out the window, out into the London rain. "I don't like that you're in cahoots with my girlfriend."

"You're in cahoots with my partner as well," replied Mycroft easily.

"That's…beside the point…"

"Just prepare for your trip, Sherlock. I'm emailing you the details as we speak. I'll see you tomorrow."

When he arrived at Angelo's, John and Lestrade were already there, chatting about a case Lestrade was on. Sherlock had it solved before he even sat down. "If the brother has a yellow car, arrest him," he said quickly when he sat and then ruffled his curls.

"Well hello to you, too," replied Lestrade with a grin. Sherlock grunted and the group gave their orders, save for Sherlock, before John spoke up.

"So what seems to be the problem, Sherlock? I didn't know you were on a case," said John and Sherlock sighed in reply.

"I'm having brother problems. And…girlfriend problems. And I am on a case and it's extremely important and I'm leaving the country for an undecidable amount of time. And apparently Molly is coming with me," replied the consulting detective.

"Wait. You're leaving?" said Lestrade.

"Yes." He looked around the restaurant, looking for anybody who could be listening in, and then leaned in to his two friends. "Moriarty's network is building back up."

"But he's in jail," said John.

"Yes. But it turns out I didn't annihilate the network the first time. Mycroft and I have some leads and I'm following them. I don't really know when I'll be back. I'm sure Mycroft will be in contact soon. He probably has a plan to cover for my absence."

"And Molly's going with you?" asked Lestrade.

"That's where my problems come in. She went to Mycroft, behind my back, and asked him to send her with me."

"And now you're angry with her."

"Unbelievably. And I'm mad at your boyfriend." Greg shot him a look. "Yes, I know about your relationship. The last to know apparently." He signed deeply. "So what do I do?"

"I say you let her go with you," said John to which Lestrade nodded his head in agreement. "She keeps you straight, Sherlock. And the chances of you getting yourself killed are greatly diminished if she goes."

"But the chances of her getting killed are greatly increased."

"I understand that, Sherlock. But just because you're her boyfriend doesn't mean you can make her decisions for her. And if you try to she's going to get mad and she's going to go against you. Molly has always been the one to protect you; that's all you've ever given her. And now she's just continuing that. You can't blame her for that. She loves you," replied John.

"And as for Mycroft," said Lestrade. "He really cares for you, Sherlock. He's told me about it. And if he thinks that Molly going with you is for the best, than you need to let her go." Sherlock simply nodded, realizing that his friends were right.

And now here he was the next day on the plane, staring at Molly staring out the window. Her hair was lit up from the sun coming in through the window, but a frown sat on her face and he knew that it was his fault that it was there. He reached over hesitantly and grabbed her hand, causing her to look over at him. "Are you still cross with me?" she whispered gently and he kissed her knuckles softly, a gesture that usually wasn't like Sherlock.

"No. I shouldn't have tried to make a decision for you," he replied. "And I'm sorry."

She eyed him suspiciously and cracked a smile. "You got that from John," and he nodded slowly, a smile now spread across his face as well. He leaned over and kissed her quickly, softly. "I've missed you," she mumbled afterward and he nodded his head in reply. And their fight was over as quickly as it began.

Molly leaned her head on his shoulder after that, thinking back to that morning. Everyone had come over to 221B to say goodbye and Molly had shed a tear or two. Sherlock pretended to be stoic about the entire situation, but everybody could see that he was sad to go, too. He held onto his goddaughter the entire time that the Watsons were there, speaking softly to her whenever he thought no one was paying attention. When Lestrade went to hug him he didn't look the least bit awkward. And when John went to shake his hand, Sherlock shockingly went in for a hug.

They all knew that the pair would return to London, but that didn't mean that leaving was any easier.

At LAX, Sherlock picked up Molly's luggage from baggage claim which earned him a smile and a kiss on the cheek. "Mycroft is having a car picking us up. We're currently posing as a married couple. Our last name is Smith."

"Smith? How original," said Molly sarcastically.

"Yes. Well next time we'll let you pick the name. Anyway, I'm a banker from London. You're a house wife."

"Boring."

"Yes. But just play along please. You are accompanying me on this trip because we're taking a holiday while we're here and you've always longed to go to Los Angeles. We…"

"Sherlock, wait." She grabbed his arm and stopped him in the middle of the crowd. "We haven't talked in three days. Don't you think we need to actually discuss what's going on?"

"I am discussing it."

"No I mean… we're a team, Sherlock. And you have to keep me filled in. No going out in the middle of the night without telling me. No racing off down the street when you've found a lead." He looked away from her, past her head and into the crowd. "Sherlock…" she said in a warning tone.

"Our current target is an English man who now works here under the alias of a banker. I'm going in tomorrow to a board meeting. I will then get the target into his office where a team of Mycroft's men will capture him and put him in jail. I will tell you as much as I can from here on out is that good enough?" he asked and dragged her along, heading toward a group of people who were holding signs. Sherlock headed toward the one that said Smith.

"That's good enough," she said. He stopped abruptly in front of her and turned sharply before she could bump into his back.

"I almost forgot," he said and reached into his pocket, pulling out three rings. Molly gasped audibly, knowing they were fake but not being able to help the images that passed through her head as he placed a simple gold band on himself and an engagement ring and wedding band on Molly. "Mrs. Smith," he said and held out his arm for her to take.

"Mr. Smith," she returned and the two set off toward their driver.