A/N: Ok, guys, tried to do better at the grammar but undoubtedly failed, I'm sure. So as usual WARNING for bad spelling and grammar. Anyway. This is my first Sherlock/Cabin Pressure story and have only been listening to it for a few days so please forgive any mistakes or OOC moments. Hope you like it. Previously posted on DeviantART.

CHAPTER TWO

John hadn't said two words to him since take off and Sherlock had to admit it was beginning to get to him. Although he was used to his friends use of the silent treatment as a form of expressing his displeasure, this was the worst it had ever been. John just sat at his side click, click, clinking at his laptop, his jaw tight with frustration. If Sherlock was honest he hated it when John was disappointed in him.

Luckily though a distraction came in the form of the far too chipper flight attendant.

"Can I get you anything Mr Holmes? Tea? Coffee?" He beamed.

Sherlock shook his head.

"Tea please." John announced from his side in that polite friendly way of his, when the man rushed off Sherlock heard John finger resuming their tapping.

Three minutes later the man was back, cup in hand and smile the size of the Nile plastered on his face.

"Thank you." John nodded taking the beverage.

"Are you the only flight attendant?" Sherlock asked, deciding he'd better set his mind to the case. After all that's why he'd come.

"Oh yes." Arthur grinned with pride.

"So you were on this flight yesterday with Mr McAvoy?"

Arthur nodded.

"What did he do?"

"Do?" Arthur's brows furrowed a little, though his smile was still in place.

"Yes."

Arthur thought for a few moments. "Well, he sat there…" he pointed to the set of seats two rows down. "…read some papers, slept. That's it really."

Sherlock steepled his fingers under his nose. "Did he eat or drink anything?"

Arthur tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Hmmm, he had a packet of dry roasted peanuts and a bottle of water."

"Anything else." Sherlock frowned up at the man.

Arthur shook his head and Sherlock sighed. He'd been sure at least one of his theories would be correct.

"Why?" Arthur asked intrigued.

"He'd dead." Sherlock said bluntly as his brain sorted through data.

"Really? - Brilliant."

Sherlock and John both looked at him with wide eyes surprised.

"No, I mean it's not brilliant that he's dead, that's awful but its brilliant that you're here to solve the case cause your so cleaver."

Sherlock gave him that of-course-I'm-cleaver smirk.

"Martin's cleaver too…"Arthur announced hardly seeming to take a breath. "…he knows everything about planes and stuff. But then he'd you brother so that makes sense."

John smiled while sending a scornful look at his friend.

"There was one time where he made a bet with mum that he couldn't stop Douglas from stealing this really posh and expensive bottle of whiskey. When it was opened it turned out not to be the whiskey and Martin investigated to figure who'd taken the whiskey because Douglas said it hadn't been him. Martin figured out that I'd spilt the whiskey and was too scared to own up so had switched the bottles…."

John smirked smugly at Sherlock. "So he figured it out. No such an idiot after all."

"Oh no, he was terribly wrong. Douglas had stolen the whiskey, - Douglas is very cleaver too. - But it was brilliant the way Martin figured it was me. He was just like Miss Marple."

"Except he got it wrong." Sherlock smirked back at John.

Arthur sighed sadly. "Well, yes."

"Well, thank you for your assistance Arthur is it."

The man nodded with yet about bright smile before turning to leave.

"Oh, oh, oh…" Arthur suddenly rushed back to the two very surprised men. "I just remembered. That man, Mr McAvoy, he had an orange."

Sherlock lifted a brow. "An orange?"

"Yes."

"You gave it to him?"

"Oh no, he had it with him."

Sherlock gave that satisfied grin and pulled out his phone. "Thank you Arthur, that was most helpful."

John gaped at the politeness of Sherlock's gratitude. So utterly out of character for the consulting detective. Then he saw that gleam in Sherlock's eyes. He'd done it, solved the case. As Arthur rushed off like an excited child John told himself he wasn't going to ask. He was still made at the man. As he typed away at the keys he had to bite his lip. The curiosity was killing him and giving the growing grin of his friends face, the man knew it.

~ SHERLOCK/CABIN PRESSURE ~

The atmosphere in the cabin was stifling. Martin refused to play word games, his grip on the controls had his knuckles turning white and he wouldn't even rise to Douglas's baiting. All in all, Douglas had seceded this was the worst flight ever - and that was really saying something.

Arthur's arrival did nothing to break the tension. No matter how chipper he was. At least until he informed them that the great boffin of baker street Sherlock Holmes was here investigating a case.

"Of course he is." Martin grumbled. It wasn't like his big brother. - who was only older by two minutes and four second. - would actually lower himself to visit the runt of the family.

"What kind of case." Douglas asked, fidgeting nervously in his seat.

"Don't worry Douglas, he wouldn't lover himself to investigate anything as low as smuggling or petty larceny - it's probably a murder."

"Ooooohhh. Brilliant. Your really are his brother." Arthur grinned, bounding on the balls of his feet once again.

"Yes I am, much to my displeasure, and as such I know what an arrogant self-important sod he can be."

"Family trait is it?" Douglas baited, receiving a glare from Martin.

"I am nothing like my brother. - As I have been informed countless times." He said with a little sadness in his tone that silenced Douglas completely.

After a moment silken Martin quizzed Arthur. "So, who died?"

"Mr McAvoy."

Both men's heads snapped around.

"From yesterday's flight?" Douglas gasped. "Does Carolyn know?"

Arthur shrugged.

"How?"

"I don't know."

"What did Sherlock ask you?"

"Just what he did. What he ate and drank?"

Martin frowned. "What did you tell him?"

"Peanuts, water and an orange." Arthur announced like he'd just solved the crime himself.

Martin looked out over the horizon. His mind flipping through the data. "Peanut allergy?" he murmured.

"What?" Douglas frowned

"Nothing." Martin brushed it off as a stupid assumption after all, if Mr McAvoy had a peanut allergy he wouldn't have eaten the peanuts.

"What else did he say?" Douglas asked with interest, turning to look at Arthur.

"Oh nothing. He asked about the food and drink then got out his phone and started typing."

"Clearly he solved the case." Martin grumbled, glancing at his watch. "Thirty minutes, he's getting slow." he announced with a hit of smug joy.

"I told him about your case." Arthur announced.

Martin turned warily in his seat fixing the man with a hard stare. "My case? - What case?"

"You know. The Case of the Stolen Whiskey…" Arthur said dramatically, adding a "buh, buh, buh." at the end.

"Oh god you didn't. - Please Arthur, tell me you didn't."

The man nodded, grinning like a loon. Martin's head dropped down with a painful moan.

The sound of the cabin door being opened drew their attention as Carolyn's head peered around the edge. "Martin, Your - brother, wishes a word."

With another painful groan the captain pushed himself reluctantly to his feet and made his way to the door.

"Martin, you hat." Douglas said holding out to the young captain.

With a deep sigh Martin shook his head and left the cabin feel like he was being sent to the gallows.

~ SHERLOCK/CABIN PRESSURE ~

John couldn't hold onto it any longer. Not talking to Sherlock was more a punishment to himself then to the detective.

"Alright smart arse, who did it and how?"

Sherlock smirked and shrugged his shoulders. "Not a clue."

"Shut up Sherlock. I know you've figured it out. It obviously has something to do with the orange."

"Obviously."

"Well?"

"Yes thank you. Yourself?"

John gave a huff of frustration and slammed his laptop closed. "You're such a dick at times Sherlock."

They fell into silence both knowing that everything would be explained before they landed in Cork. Giving up on getting a straight answer out of Sherlock, John turned his attention to Martin.

"Tell me something Sherlock; do you really hate your brother because he's not as bright as you and Mycroft?"

Sherlock didn't answer at first. He just stared ahead and pressed his lips together.

"Of course not. - He'd my brother and my twin."

John smiled. "To there is a hint of humanity under there. I was being to wonder."

Sherlock sent his friend a side long glance.

"So why did you for along with this ridiculous gag order?" John asked, anger still tainting his voice.

Sherlock shrugged. He really didn't want to talk about it. It was the only thing he'd ever been ashamed of. He'd locked that small part of his conscience away where it couldn't be touched along with all thoughts and feelings involving his twin brother. Though over the last two years Martin had become a constant dark presence at the back of his mind, probably because of his friendship with John. After meeting John, Sherlock had come to see that he didn't need to lock himself way from relationships in order to do his job. The worst moment when Martin had crawled out of that dark place was when Moriarty had threatened to burn his heart out. Whether the man knew about Martin he wasn't sure. He hoped not. But it had doubled the fear he had already been feeling at the threat to John.

"You don't know?" John snapped, pulling Sherlock from his thoughts. "Really?"

"What would you like me to say John. I did not force Martin to sigh those papers, that was his own choice."

"Did you try to stop him?"

Sherlock pressed his lips together once more and fought the guilty.

John groaned and slouched in his seat. "Sometimes Sherlock I think I see you better than anyone in the world - but at others I swear your as much as stranger to me as before we met."

There was a long painful silence. "Why do you think me and Mycroft don't' get on. - what do you think that so-called childish feud is about."

John's gaze snapped to Sherlock with surprise.

"I was not happy at all with my father and brothers decision, and I did try to reason with them but they said I was allowing my emotions to cloud my judgement. That it was better for everyone if Martin was give the means to live his own life away from the expectations of his family.

John's jaw clenched tight. "And you went along with it."

"It was Martin's decision, I respected it."

"so you've spent how long ignoring his existence?"

Sherlock swallowed and answered under his breath.

"Pardon?" John demanded.

"Fifteen years?"

"Fifteen!" John yelled

"Shhh"

"You've ignored your twin brother for fifteen years? - How the bloody hell can you do that Sherlock? I had trouble ignoring Harry after six weeks."

Sherlock shrugged. "I never said it was easy John, but Martin made the choice."

John was silent for a few moments, thinking. "Did you ever try to contract him?"

Silence

"So he's spent fifteen years as an outcast from his family and you, his twin brother, have tried once to make contact…" John shook his head in disappointment at his friend. "…Did it ever occur to you that he might no have realised that he'd lose you all."

Sherlock turned a frown to John. "What?"

"It was a gag order Sherlock. Which meant that he couldn't tell anyone he was a Holmes, not that he'd have to stop being one. - I saw his face when he saw you. I may not be a great consulting detective, but I know people emotionally better than you do and what I saw in his face was hurt and anger."

Sherlock sat considering what John was saying. Did Martin really not understand what signing those papers had meant? - Or was it himself that hadn't understood.

"Where are you going?" John asked as Sherlock got to his feet.

"I think it's time I talk to my brother."

A/N: Well another chapter down. This won't be a long story, maybe only one more chapter. I have to redeem Sherlock cause I think he'd coming over as a bit of an arse right now and we all know that he'd not really like that.

I apologize for the spelling and grammar mistakes; I really am trying to do better. Though in my defense I did warn you at the beginning so… anyway, I have to confess that I have no patience to beta on such small stories. I know, it's selfish and wrong but I just want to share the story the moment I've written it

As always thanks for reading, reviewing the previous chapters (I love reading reviews, it makes me very, very happy. I can't help but smile when I see them in my inbox) and a special thanks if your one of those who has added this story to your favorite's list. I'm very honoured, truly.

Till next time.

GATERGIRL79