Here we go guys. Onward and south!

Chapter 17

0010

Heathrow Airport

London, England,

United Kingdom

The four agents caught the same cab to Heathrow and, now, as the boarding call for first class went out, they were going to split up for the first time on assignment. John knew he wouldn't see Lestrade and Sally for about another week and strangely, that made him feel like there wasn't something quite right, but he pushed it aside,

"Good luck," he said, shaking Lestrade's hand and giving Sally a quick hug,

"Same to you," Lestrade said,

"You'd better come back to us in one piece," Sally said and John nodded, smiling,

'I will,"

'See you then," Sherlock said, shaking Lestrade's hand and allowing Sally to give him a hug.

"Yeah. Have fun in first class,' Lestrade said, sounding fairly envious as both he and Sally were stuck in economy,

'We will," John said, grinning and looking quite mischievous as the green eyes lit up.

The two of them walked to the counter and handed their tickets over to the assistant who slid it through and pointed to the door,

'Through there, sirs," She said and they both nodded before walking into the aerobridge.

'We're actually doing this?" John asked and Sherlock nodded,

'Yes, my dear doctor,' he said,

"Remember, it's my dear millionaire now," John chuckled as Sherlock shot him a glare,

"Thank god this is only going to last for a week,'

"Oh shut up," John said, but he was smiling and he could've swore heard an 'awww' from behind them, but didn't turn around to see who it was.

They finally reached the plane and were directed to the left, through curtains and into completely luxury.

"Wow," John said, almost stopping dead,

"Keep moving," Sherlock said, pushing him to get him to move. They had seats that faced each other on the left hand side of the plane, a window in between them and a whole lot of space that sort of sealed them away from the rest of everyone else, as the seats had a screen that could be pulled forward. John also noticed, with pleasure, that they were leather and looked very, very comfy.

Sherlock flicked the overhead locker open and pushed his bag in before turning to the left to watch John do the same, if not with a bit of a stretch. Sherlock smiled and when John finally managed to get the bag in and turned around to see Sherlock smiling, he huffed,

'You could at least help," he said and Sherlock walked over,

'Too tall for you, Major?" he asked and John rolled his eyes,

'Your jokes have no effect, you arse,"

"Really?"

While the two of them kept at it, the boarding call for economy echoed over the speakers and the rest of the lounge – the majority of the passengers – got to their feet, including Lestrade and Sally,

'Are we ready for this?"

'I don't think we're given much of a choice, Greg," Sally said and the DI nodded,

'Still don't know why I signed up for this," he muttered.

Their tickets were stamped and they were ushered through to the aerobridge. Sally was glad that she only had her handbag with her because she didn't particularly like having to carry so much extra luggage around. As they filed into the plane, from the left Sally chuckled as a raised voice that could only be John's floated through the curtain,

'They're at it again," Lestrade said, turning to Sally,

"Surprise, surprise," she said, as they were directed right,

"You know…" Lestrade looked up at the numbers and had to step over a child who decided to throw a tantrum right in the middle of the aisle,

"What?" Sally asked as they continued along to get to their seats, somewhere near the back of the plane – trust Stone to get them the worst seats –

"You think they should get married?" Lestrade asked, as they finally did reach their seats, and he hefted his two bags into the overhead locker,

"They are," Sally said, ducking underneath her boss' outstretched arms,

"I mean afterwards. Properly," Lestrade let out a huff of air as he finally got the bags in and closed the locker,

"What with the whole dress thing?"

"Please don't talk about men in dresses," Lestrade said, his own little excursion with John in a cocktail dress and high heels still too fresh in his mind. Sally had to contain her laughter as she remembered the sight of her boss, the respected DI Lestrade, in a red cocktail dress.

"Sorry," Sally said and he gave her a suspicious look as she hid her smile, "The whole suits and flowers and"

"Yeah, the whole affair," Lestrade cut her off before she could slip in another reference to dresses and Sally shrugged,

'Well, it wouldn't take much persuasion," she said and Lestrade nodded,

'Hmmm… true that," he said, picking a magazine out of its pocket behind the chair and settled himself in for a long – and judging by the noise of the small family in front of him – noisy flight.

23:24

Somewhere above Europe

British Ariways Flight 0111

"I'm sorry." Sherlock said as John still refused to talk to him two hours into the flight. The refrormed sociopath had tried everything to get John to forgive him. He'd even ordered a triple chocolate cake and cookies just for John but it still didn't make the doctor talk to the detective. Sherlock Holmes, at his best times, never sat still. He couldn't and wouldn't. He didn't like it. Sitting on a plane for sixteen hours was one thing. Sitting on a plane with a hostile John opposite him was torture.

Okay, yes, he had taken the teasing a little too far by asking how John had ever managed in Afghanistan if he couldn't see over the dunes. But it was a fact. John was shorter than the average man. Although, Sherlock thought as he watched John tilt the seat back and close his eyes, he should probably know by now that people don't like being told obvious facts.

Sherlock needed help. Getting to his feet as quietly as possible, Sherlock turned around and made his way through the curtain, hoping that the finely tailored quality of his suit which did actually appear to shimmer with a lustre, didn't catch anybody's attention in business and economy. Sherlock walked down the aisles with as much purpose as possible and kept walking when he reached economy. Keeping his eyes open, Sherlock walked a little slower, past families with kids and lone travellers, one of which he was sure was going to see her boyfriend of ten years.

Deleting this unnecessary information, Sherlock continued on down, and finally, at the back of the plane, found who he was looking for – a snoring Lestrade and an irritated Sally. "Sally," Sherlock walked up to her and she looked up in surprise,

'Sherlock! What are you doing here?" she asked, worried that maybe Howell was watching them,

"I need help," Sherlock said, with all the seriousness of a man who was diffusing a bomb,

'What happened?" Sally asked, worried now,

"Well…" Sherlock looked around them as if there were eavesdroppers everywhere,

"I pissed John off," he finally said and Sally dropped her head into her hands,

"Sherlock!" she breathed, thoughts of possible hijackings or deaths evaporating. Only Sherlock Holmes would have no idea how to deal with an irate spouse.

"Sherlock, you go to him, get down on your knees and-"

"On a plane?" Sherlock asked, genuinely confused and Sally took a couple of seconds more to understand what Sherlock was getting at,

"NO!" the mother in front of her, who had finally managed to get her baby asleep turned around with a glare and Sally smiled weakly at her.

The sergeant turned back to Sherlock, "Not that way," she whispered and before the detective could open his mouth she continued, "Get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness."

"Beg?" Sherlock asked. That was one thing he hadn't tried yet. Hmmm…interesting. I missed the most obvious one out of all. I'll need to do a little research when I get home.

With a quick thankyou to Sally, he turned around and walked back down the aisle, his pace increased slightly. He all but jumped back into first class and walked over to where John was sleeping. He placed both his arms on the armrests and looked down at John. The doctor's eyelashes – died black – fluttered slightly and Sherlock knew the man was awake,' "John," he said, keeping his voice incredibly low, in the timbre that he knew would catch the doctor's attention,

"Please open your eyes," Sherlock said and, for the first time in two hours, fourteen minutes, and twenty four seconds, John responded to what Sherlock said. He did open his eyes to be greeted with the mercury eyes of his partner.

"Sh-Sherlock," he said,

"John," Sherlock said, tilting his head to one side, and then, much to John astonishment, Sherlock go to his knees, but kept his hands on the armrests "I'm sorry," Sherlock said, widening his eyes just a bit and lowering his voice again.

"Really?" John felt proud of himself. He'd managed the word without stuttering.

"Yes, John," Sherlock said, and John figured that could've passed for a growl.

"Good, do you want to seal that with a kiss?" John asked, smiling as Sherlock realised he had been played.

The detective leapt of his knees as John's wonderful laughter echoed around the room. Sherlock tried to keep the straight face as John kept laughing but found it impossible and started laughing as well, collapsing into his chair with a contented sigh. John got up and fell into Sherlock's lap, not particularly caring that they were getting a rather odd look from the man sitting across from them – the only other passenger in first class.

'You really thought that I was angry over something like that?" John asked, as Sherlock wrapped his arms around the doctor's waist and buried his face into the crook of John neck,

"Yes," Sherlock said, the word coming out petulant and muffled. John laughed again, placing his hands on Sherlock's arms,

'Silly detective," he said, laying his head against Sherlock's collar bone, looking up into Sherlock's eyes,

"Ridiculous doctor," Sherlock muttered back, but the smile on the corner of his lips betrayed his real feelings.

0400

British Airways flight 0111

Kuala Lumpur International Airport

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.

Falling asleep on a plane and with half your body slumped out of a chair, Lestrade decided, was not a good way to sleep. "Ow," Lestrade moaned as he got up and the plane finally stopped, pulling up at Kuala Lumpur International Airport.

"Serves you right." Sally said, watching as the family in front of them savagely pulled their bags out of the top locker,

"Are we going out?" Lestrade asked, looking at the fog that hung outside and really not wanting to leave the warm cabin,

"Do you want to?"

"No, Not really," Lestrade,

"Hmmm," Sally replied, before leaning forward and pulling out a woman's magazine. Lestrade sighed and leant back, closing his eyes. No time like the present for some sleep.

In first class, John was shaken awake by a smiling air-hostess, "Would you like a drink, sir?" she asked as John's senses returned and he realised why the chair appeared to be breathing – he was still on Sherlock.

"Uh, no," he said, finally remembering how to speak. She nodded and walked off again. John turned around to see that Sherlock's eyes were open and watching him, "So, what are we going to do now?' John asked,

'We're here for the next three hours," Sherlock said,

"Right,' John got to his feet a little unsteadily and pulled Sherlock up with him as well.

"Where are we going?" Sherlock asked and John didn't reply,

"We'll be back in time, don't worry, just keep the tickets."

Sherlock checked his inside jacket pocket to find that the tickets were still in there and he allowed John to lead him off the plane.

Three hours later the plane was ready for takeoff and Sherlock and John returned, both bearing bags of random items them decided to buy – including, much to John's irritation, a new butchers knife. How Sherlock intended to get it past customs, the doctor couldn't quite fathom. "Sherlock, I swear, if we get detained because of you-"

"I know, I know," Sherlock interrupted as they walked back to their seats to find a plate of steaming food waiting for them and another hostess laying the table,

"Your food," she said and John smiled at her,

"Thank you," he said, and she walked off, "Mmm, fish," the doctor said, dropping the bags to the floor and falling into his seat,

"I don't like fish," Sherlock said, staring at the plate,

'Live with it Sherlock," John said, already finished with a quarter of the meal. Sherlock stabbed the fish and wished they could get off the plane.

0713

Melbourne International Airport

Melbourne, Victoria

Australia

The sun was blazing down as the plane pulled up at Melbourne International airport and John stared out the window at the fact that the tarmac seemed to be shimmering not far away,

'I thought summer was coming to a close?" he asked as the pilot announced overhead that it was 35 degrees outside and that there was no chance of rain,

"It is," Sherlock said, getting to his feet and getting both their bags down, to save himself from another fight about height.

Knowing that they would be allowed out first, Sherlock and John carried their bags out of the plane and into the aerobridge.

"Melbourne, right?" John asked, looking around as they walking into the terminal.

"Yep." Sherlock looked around, "We're staying at the Grand Hyatt," he said and John nodded,

"C'mon," he led the way forward and Sherlock found he really wanted to get to their hotel - there would be things to do at the hotel.

Okay. Slightly new format of writing because we've entered the MI6 stage of the story. When ever the team reaches a new location, the time is given, followed by the place, then the city and state followed by the nation. You know. James Bon style. :D

Pwease Weview?

Aza

xoxo