'Now boarding Flight 734 to Madrid, now boarding Flight 734 to Madrid,' the disembodied female voice broke through the fog in Molly Hooper's mind. Gathering her bag and jacket, she joined the queue, ticket in hand. A part of her was excited for the trip, a last-minute invitation to speak at a pathology conference and an absolute honor for her. But the rest of her, the part that wanted to turn it down, was regretful for leaving for an extended holiday without informing anyone aside from her supervisor. He had been pressuring her to use her significant vacation time before she lost her mind from work. Now seemed as good a time as any.

Especially after the incident on Monday. Sherlock Holmes, the love of her life and bane of her existence, had strode into the lab like the bloody King of England and demanded she immediately stop what she was doing and get him a cup of coffee. And for God's sake, wipe off that lipstick, it looks like a child drew on her face.

Unfortunately for him, Molly was at the end of her rope. Between the end of her engagement, Sherlock's drug use and subsequent false-engagement and near death (he was dead for a time, but it did Molly no good to dwell on that), then the appearance of a fake Moriarty across the country, Molly could no longer hold back. She only counted when he needed a favor and the thought made something inside her snap, the mouse retreating as the lioness inside her roared.

If the slaps she delivered after his drug testing were surprising, the near pummeling he endured Monday shocked him to his core. Nursing a bloody nose and what promised to be a brilliant shiner, he gaped at her in utter astonishment before hastening to obey her bellowed demand to get his high-handed, arrogant arse from her lab before she aimed lower.

Molly internally groaned at the memory, reddening in pride and shame. She regretted losing her temper and attacking him, but a part of her was proud for standing up to him, in some manner.

Finally making it to her seat, she pulled out a book before shoving the bag into the overhead compartment. No one else was in the two-seat section yet, and Molly secretly hoped they wouldn't show. Settling in to the window seat and fastening the seatbelt, she cracked the book open, looking forward to a quiet 2-hour flight to lose herself in a fictional world. People moved about her as she read, the door eventually closed and sealed tight.

Just as she heard the ding for the captain's announcement, the seat beside her was taken by a latecomer. She ignored whoever it was, burying her nose further in her book, effectively blocking out the flight safety instructions she knew by heart.

With a lurch, the plane began to pull away from the gate.

As she flicked her eyes to the window and back, her peripheral caught a familiar looking figure. Her heart skipped a beat. Horrified, she slowly turned her head and locked wide eyes with the man beside her, one very perturbed Consulting Detective.