It was a glorious October day … that early morning crispness in the air, the sunlight filtering through trees along the roadside, their colorful leaves dancing in a gentle breeze, casting flickering shadows on the road, clear blue sky seeming to stretch out forever over distant green fields … the type of day to make one glad to be alive … ahh, the joys of autumn -

"Just look at it - quiet, calm, peaceful …. Isn't it ghastly?" Martyred gloom from the back seat.

Followed by martyred whinging from the front, "Why are we doing this … we never do this."

Molly, at the wheel, rolled her eyes. "We're traveling together because it's silly and wasteful to take separate transportation for a quick visit with your parents." She snorted. "And even more ridiculous that two middle-aged men –" [raising her voice over their joint protests] "two middle-aged brothers, no less – are unable – unwilling - to ride in the same car for a ninety-minute trip."

"I'm not middle-aged." Molly glanced in the rear-view mirror at a scowling Sherlock. "Brother dear, however, will soon be eligible for senior concessions."

Molly didn't have to look at Mycroft to know he had a firm grip on the bridge of his nose. She discreetly slid her hand off the steering wheel to give his thigh a squeeze, letting her hand rest there a moment before slowly trailing off his leg. A side glance and suggestive lift of her eyebrow was enough to make him look less grim.

But just a bit.

She sighed silently.

Mycroft's seat abruptly jerked as Sherlock pushed his knees against it. "Move your seat up," he complained. "You're taking too much room to accommodate the excessive size of stomach."

Seeing Mycroft's hand clench out of the corner of her eye, Molly quickly stretched her left hand over the back of the seat, snapped her fingers and jerked her thumb toward the empty space behind her. "Shift over Sherlock. Now."

She heard him scooting against the leather seat, then a noisy exhalation, and rolled her eyes again.

Mycroft's hand relaxed, and a few miles passed in peace. Then came a slight intake of breath from the elder combatant, "Brother mine –" Molly turned to frown at Mycroft, who rolled his eyes but shut up.

More silence for, oh, about three minutes.

"Molly …." Wheedling.

"Sherlock, take a nap or something. Please!"

She started to relax when ten minutes passed without more squabbling.

"Why are you driving, Molly? Where's brother dear's usual flunkey?"

"I actually like driving," she replied, evenly.

"Oh, silly me," Sherlock said snarkily. "How like Mycroft to find himself a goldfish …" ["Sherlock," Mycroft, warningly] - "who enjoys catering to his every need, though how you can stand slaking his disgusting desires …"

He trailed off as Molly flipped the indicator, slowed and pulled off the road without saying a word. She unbuckled her seatbelt, shoved the driver's door open, stomped to the boot, and grabbed a duffle bag. She stomped back to the passenger door, motioned for Sherlock to open it, then glared when he didn't do so quickly enough. He hesitantly pushed the door open, looking at her with his best puppy-dog eyes.

"Molly –"

She unzipped the bag. "Here – [removing a pillow and throwing it at him] "here –" [throwing a comfy blanket at him]. "Now take a nap, Sherlock, or pretend to, but do SHUT UP for the balance of the trip!"

She slammed the passenger door, then stepped into the opening of the driver's door, and reached back into the bag. She more calmly offered Mycroft a horseshoe-shaped travel pillow. He took it from her, turning the pillow over as he inspected the silky blue covering then rubbed a finger over his initials embroidered in a corner. "I figured you'd end up with a headache and would need to rest your eyes for a while."

Still caressing his gift, he looked up at Molly with a wry smile.

She put the empty bag back in the boot, settled behind the wheel and buckled up. "You're obviously aware, Sherlock, that Mycroft and I know many ways to kill someone and make a body disappear."

A mumble from behind her, "That would be tremendously ambitious of you."

"Well, we both enjoy a challenge." Molly looked over her shoulder, then pulled back onto the road at the next break in traffic. "And while we love you …," she ignored the snort from the front and gagging noise from the back, "we could endeavor to overcome it."

Then she put her foot down.