The water glove incident doesn’t work for as long as John and Sherlock might have hoped.

By nightfall, reporters are starting to group up outside on the street again.

“They’re back,” Sherlock says in disgust. “What did they think, my dropping water balloons on them was in invitation for an interview?”

“Just ignore them, Sherlock,” says John, but Sherlock doesn’t quite manage that. He’s brooding in the kitchen when John decides its time for him at least to go to bed.

Four in the morning, John’s being shaken awake by a fairly wired Sherlock.

“Mrrnf? Wha’s goin’ on?”

“John. Wake up. Mycroft’s about to kidnap us.”

“Again?”

Or, not exactly again, since the last time Mycroft had John kidnapped, Sherlock hadn’t been there. The detour of thought does Sherlock’s work for him, though. John is now awake.

“Happy?”

“Mycroft’s downstairs. I’ve already packed your things. Hurry and get dressed.”

“Where are we going?” John tries to ask, but Sherlock’s already on his way out of the door and John is left no other option than to do what Sherlock has requested.

By the time John walks into the living room, it’s to see Sherlock and Mycroft standing before one another stiffly. Maybe they didn’t need words to express how they’d missed each other, or how thankful they are for being able to see each other other again. Maybe they don’t have those kind of words in their vocabularies. Maybe all that had been said already while John was getting dressed.

“What time do you call this, Mycroft?” John asks.

“Time to get going,” says Mycroft, with a look towards his watch. “Have you got everything? The car is outside.”

The car ride is short, and takes them to a privately chartered airplane. At approximately 4.34am. It is at this point that John begins to grow worried. Sherlock, having grown up with his brother -and therefore had that much more time to grow acclimatised to his quirks- sits comfortably.

“Um,” John starts. “Has anyone actually covered what the plan is here?”

It’s about that time when Lestrade shows up.

“What are you two doing here?” he says, upon seeing Sherlock and John. “Mycroft said there was a dead body.”

“Change of plans,” says Mycroft briskly. “Everyone, into the plane.”

“Wait.” Lestrade stops them. Stops Mycroft and Sherlock, really. John is standing there feeling more than a little dizzy only a couple of steps in front of Lestrade. “I have work in a couple of hours. And I don’t have any clothes.”

“Actually, you have several days off,” Mycroft informs him. “And clothes are in that black bag over there.”

It seems the power of the Holmes men is having its effect on Lestrade too, for the inspector walks a couple of steps towards the black bag instinctively before thinking to question, “How do you know my sizes?”

John looks to Sherlock. “Should this be something we’re worried about?”

“Nonsense,” Sherlock says, and John starts to relax, before Sherlock adds. “Mycroft hasn’t been interested in men or boys since prep school.”

John splutters at that. “Not what I meant!”

Sherlock glances towards him curiously. “What did you mean?” he asks, but then Mycroft walks right by them, and John doesn’t get a chance to ask if they should be worried about the fact of their flying out of London in the middle of the night.

Instead, he asks Mycroft, “Where is it we’re going exactly?”

“Prague.”

*

John and Sherlock have a room to share. After the last comment made about Etrade and Mycroft, John isn’t game to ask about their dooming situations, and those details aren’t supplied.

It’s 6am when they reach the hotel rooms, breakfast time, but all John’s body wants to do is go back to sleep.

Theirs is a room with two king sized single beds, one against the wall and one by the window. John isn’t surprised when Sherlock takes the one against the wall.

“So, you ever going to tell me what this is all about?” John asks, because it doesn’t occur to him for a moment that Sherlock doesn’t know.

“Why, its to give the media time to get sick of us, of course.” Sherlock is addressing the pot plant in the room. John thinks he is looking for bugs that have been planted. Literally in this case. “If we are not there, they will have to run other stories. A whole hoard of them saw us drive off tonight, never to return…”

“And when we do get back?” John is trying to catch Sherlock’s eye, but the other man just isn’t looking at him. “Sherlock? We are going back?”

“Of course we are, John.”