So this is the continuation of a story I've been working on with Morbidbydefault, Svartalfhild, Listrant, Lilyismilesaway & rilakjenya. The full story is on sherlollydotcom in the fanfiction forum headed collaborative fic. Molly, Sherlock and John have been following up on the scientists who worked on the H.O.U.N.D project. It's taken them on several transatlantic flights. The action picks up just after Molly has been ill in Hong Kong.

The threesome sat in the first class lounge in Hong Kong airport. Despite Molly's recent ill health, Sherlock insisted they press on. With all 5 principal H.O.U.N.D scientists now dead or eliminated, it was time to focus on the research assistants. Several were no longer involved in this field of science and could be eliminated. Dr Thomas Reilly had been just a PhD student when he'd worked on H.O.U.N.D. He was now head of the biochemistry department at Trinity College, Dublin in Ireland.

"Sherlock, we can't fly directly to Dublin from Hong Kong."

"No, we'll go to London and fly on to Dublin."

Molly perked up at the sound of home.

"We may have a problem with London too."

"Why?"

John held up his tablet. The headline on the Guardian said:

LONDON GATWICK CRIPPLED BY AIR TRAFFIC CONTROL STRIKE. FEARS IT MAY SPREAD.

"Aren't you just a bit tired of all this traipsing around, Sherlock?" asked Molly.

"Of course not, we haven't solved the case yet. And we're so close."

John groaned.

"We are not. It's all over the place. We've left a string of dead scientists in our wake. This Dr Reilly better have his affairs in order."

"John, that's a terrible thing to say. But maybe you have a point. Sherlock, couldn't we just give up on this?"

"Give up?! Never!"

4 hours later, they sat on board the plane bound for London. An announcement from the flight deck left them all looking glum.

"Ladies & Gentleman, this is your captain speaking. I regret to inform you that the unplanned air traffic control strike in Gatwick has spread to Heathrow. Consequently, we will be landing in Paris. Once there, we will endeavour to get you to your final destination by other means."

John looked at his companions.

"Guys, we did not sign up for this."

"I admit it is inconvenient. We'll just have to take a train across to Cherbourg in France. From there, we can take an overnight ferry to Rosslare and then rent a car. Dublin's only a couple of hours away."

Molly looked aghast. Her patience had been stretched thin.

"Sherlock, I'm not up to this. Three trips across the Atlantic - we could have planned that better, and now Hong Kong and back again. I've been shot at, ill, and stressed. I just want to go home."

"That's it, Sherlock, you've got a full scale dissent on your hands. Mild-mannered Molly says no."

"I'm not saying no, I'm just saying, can we slow the pace?" she dissembled.

"How much slower would you like? Trains are quite the downgrade from planes!" retorted Sherlock.

"I just need a break."

"Fine! I'll make you a deal. Do as I ask with Dublin and then I'll pay for you to have a proper holiday once the case is solved."

"What makes you so sure the case will be solved in Ireland?"

"I've finished translating the journal. Reilly was the linchpin, even though he was just a student at the time. I think we can break him."

"Break him? What are we: MI6?"

"He's quite religious now. I think we can appeal to his better nature and get him to come clean."

"But even if he wanted to, wouldn't he have signed the official secrets act?" said John.

"What will he even know? He's hardly taking time out from lecturing to run around murdering former colleagues," Molly pointed out.

"Obviously, the CIA is doing that part of the job. What I want to know is why."

"I really do think we should take a break, Sherlock. We've traversed the world more than once in the last couple of weeks. None of us is at full strength," added John, seriously.

Sherlock crossed his arms and pressed his lips together. After a tense moment, he said,

"Fine. We'll spend a weekend at home and once we're over the jet lag, we'll head to Dublin."

John and Molly's eyes met in a silent victory dance.

Far too many hours later, the trio arrived at Waterloo, having taken the Euro-star from Paris. Molly fumbled in her purse for her Oyster card.

"You're not thinking of taking the Tube after all that?" said Sherlock, aghast.

"It can hardly be any worse than the other trains, planes and taxis we've been in today. I'm doing this my own way!" she retorted.

John began in a conciliatory tone, "Alright, there's no need to have a row. Let's all just get home and have a rest." He looked at his watch. "We can reconvene on Thursday for lunch at Mishkins."

"I don't like Mishkins. The tables are too close together," grumbled Sherlock.

"Fine! You pick the venue and let us know."

"Right, well, good trip, haha," said Molly, "See you Thursday."

She waved with her free hand as she dragged her wheelie bag towards to the underground, wondering how the hell she could get out of more crazy travel with the others. Sherlock and John went outside and predictably hailed a cab.

"Don't say it, John."

"Don't say, 'I'm glad you saw sense because we're all worn out'? Too late."

After a couple of days rest and the comfort of home, Molly had almost forgotten the massive inconvenience that was actually being on a case with Sherlock. The close proximity to him had been quite the challenge too, at times. There had been a brief email scuffle and as a result, the group was meeting at Baker Street for takeaway lunch.

Molly arrived promptly. John had gone to the shops to buy sandwiches, so she found Sherlock alone.

"Hello, Sherlock. You don't look at all rested for our bit of downtime. Have you slept at all?"

"Of course I have!" His phone rang and he grabbed it.

"Well?" he said rudely, then listened intently. "You are joking. What good are you then?" Sherlock ended the call and threw his phone at the couch.

"What's wrong?"

"The air traffic control strike is still on. The country is almost at its feet. Mycroft has not fixed it yet."

"Oh really? I haven't paid much attention to the news for the past couple of days. We'll just have to postpone our trip to Dublin."

"Impossible!"

"I've never heard Sherlock Holmes say that before." John was home. Sherlock seized his phone once again and began surfing. After a moment, he announced, quite calmly,

"Right, we'll take a train to Holyhead and be in time for the 1845 ferry to Dublin."

"Sherlock, I really have to call mutiny on this. Let's leave it."

"Well, you don't really need me anyway. I'll just go back to work and leave you two to it," said Molly.

"Of course I need you, I mean, we need you. You've gotten us access to places."

"Yeah, but you don't need me to talk to a college professor. You'll be fine on this one." She turned to leave the room.

"Don't go!" said Sherlock.

"I'm just going to put the kettle on."

John grinned at Sherlock. Perhaps it was time to leave them alone.

"I'll just go wash my hands before we eat."

Sherlock followed Molly into the kitchen. She set the kettle back on its stand and flicked the switch.

"Where do you keep plates? Oof!" she said in surprise, as she discovered Sherlock was right behind her.

"Why are you always so sneaky?"

Sherlock grabbed her nearest shoulder, bringing her to face him.

"Molly, you must come to Dublin with us."

"I really mustn't."

"But you are really helpful."

"Sherlock, I could list out the ways in which I've been helpful in the past 2 weeks, the unhelpful list would be longer. You even had to spend a night looking after me in Hong Kong."

"You knew that was me?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"Well, er, yes. I thought it was John, but he said no. Thanks, by the way."

"Good, so you'll come with me then?"

"What? No!"

"Please?"

"Hang on, is this Sherlock Holmes begging me for something?"

"I'd hardly call it begging. I'm asking politely."

"I'll consider it."

"That means yes!" He kissed her on the forehead and turned away quickly.

"Plates are in the cupboard over the fridge."

He was hard to say no to; that was the whole problem. And so, after lunch, Molly returned to her flat, packed a small weekend bag, and met Sherlock at the train station.

"Where's John?"

"He is not coming," Sherlock admitted.

"What? Why?"

"Said his leg was hurting him. It's not true obviously."

"And you just let him away with it? Sherlock, we need him."

"For what? No, we'll manage without him."

"Are you sure that's all? His leg?" she continued as they took their seats on the train.

Sherlock's mind flashed back to his flatmate yelling.

"I've had enough of your convoluted notion of dating. Stop dragging that poor woman around the globe on a fool's errand. You solved this case at least 2 days ago."

No, he wouldn't think about that right now.

"I believe we'll be home within 2 days, Molly. Perhaps there'll even be some time for sightseeing."

Molly looked at him like he'd been replaced. "Okay, hold back on the being extra nice, it's making her suspicious," he thought.

The train journey passed in relative peace. As they sat down in the bar on the ferry, Molly commented that boat travel was so much more relaxed than air.

"It helps, of course, that we have a common travel area with the Republic of Ireland – no need for passports." agreed Sherlock.

"Where have you booked us to stay?"

"Some city centre place called the Shelbourne." Molly got out her laptop and looked it up.

"Oh it looks fancy and historic."

"Yes, the British troops commandeered it during the Easter Rising and shot people occupying the park across the road. I thought it would be suitable for our invasion." he smirked.

"Great. So we'll meet Dr Reilly tomorrow then?"

"Yes, I've made an appointment. Or rather, John did."

"So how will we play it?"

"Similar to the professor in America. We'll pose as a couple, very religious, so he engages with us. We'll offer to take him to lunch and then just follow my lead. I believe we nearly have the case solved. Lestrade has given me a contact in the Gardaí. I'll check in with her once we get settled in the hotel."

When they arrived at the hotel, Molly had a surprise. They were sharing a suite.

"Don't worry, Dr Hooper, there's two bedrooms. It was all they had on short notice," Sherlock said.

"Sherlock, this is bigger than my flat, and yours." She wandered around, opening cupboards and looking out the multiple windows.

"Yes, plenty of room to relax. Now, shall we have some dinner?"

"You want to eat?"

"Don't you?"

"Of course, I'm just surprised you do."

"Do you really believe I don't eat on cases? I'm not actually a robot." Sherlock's phone bleeped with a text from John which read: Did you tell her this was a mini-break yet? He deleted it without answering.

"I'm pretty tired after the journey. Can we just order some room service?"

"Just what I was going to suggest."

Molly had never seen Sherlock so conciliatory. It was strange, but perhaps for the best. Soon, they were ensconced in the suite's living area, eating off trays and shouting at the television. It was quite good fun, which soon had Molly questioning again. If it had been anyone else, she would have guessed they were on a date (the sort that people who are already friends have when feeling change). She looked at Sherlock and mentally shook her head. Sherlock cleared his throat.

"I've had a lovely evening, Molly."

"Er, me too. Sherlock, what's going on here?"

He stood up and paced for a moment before answering.

"I have not been entirely honest with you."

She looked at him quizzically but he held up a hand.

"I am closer to solving the case than you realise. There's just one or two more threads to wrap up, probably one more trip to America. But, I confess that I have enjoyed spending this time with you. John…John suggested that I might have prolonged the outcome so you would help."

"I need a reality check. Are you saying you delayed solving the case so I would stick around?"

"Yes."

"Are you mad?"

"Apparently."

"Sherlock, you don't need to make up a reason to hang around with me. You could just say, 'Hey, Molly, let's go to the cinema'. Oh, but wait…I see now. You thought you were infallible."

He approached the couch and sat beside her, taking her hand and lacing their fingers together. Molly stared, watching as if outside her body.

"Yes exactly. You always see through me, Molly."

She said nothing for a moment.

"Not quite. You've done an excellent job of making me think you didn't care," her voice hitched a little as she considered the wasted time.

"Since I faked my death," he answered, anticipating her unasked question.

"That's long enough," she said. Molly pushed Sherlock's hair out of his eyes.

"I'm going to kiss you now…if you need to run away, you have a 4 second warning," she advised.

But he didn't go anywhere. She leaned in, savouring the moment, and finally pressed their lips together. Of all the kisses she'd imagined with this man, she'd never expected the real thing to either happen, or for it to be sweet and gentle, and so very eager. He broke the kiss, keen to put his mouth on her neck.

"Wait. Do we even need to meet this Dr Reilly tomorrow?"

"No," he grinned. "We can just stay here."

"So you dragged me here, to seduce me, and then tell me it's all done. You could have done this without the travel!"

"There's no fun in that. Besides, surely you want to do some sightseeing."

"I do. Don't think you're getting away without it."

"I'd quite like to see some sights myself."

"Was that a double entendre?"

"Yes. I thought it was very smoothly inserted. John would approve."

"No doubt."