John arrived home to 221B Baker Street to find two suitcases by the door. It had been a particularly grueling day at the surgery and he was anxious to collapse onto his bed for a sleep. Still, he couldn't help stopping to ask Sherlock about the cases. If his flatmate was going to be gone for awhile, which two suitcases would suggest, John wanted to talk to him before he left.

"John, you're home. Excellent." Sherlock said appearing on the last step of the stairs. His footsteps had been barely audible to the point where John hadn't even been aware of his presence until he spoke.

"So you're off on a trip then?" John asked giving his friend a small smile. "Where will you be going?"

"Correction, where will we be going? I took the liberty of packing some of your things." Sherlock said motioning to the suitcase. John looked it over more carefully and realized it was his.

"What? Sherlock I can't just go on a little holiday with you. I've got my job." He reminded him. Sherlock seemed to function under the assumption that John was available for his disposal whenever it fancied him. It was the sort of inconsiderate behavior John had come to expect.

"It's not a holiday John, it's a case. You are perfectly welcome to stay here if you'd rather." Sherlock said indifferent, crossing the room in his usual graceful manner.

"Damn it." John mumbled under his breath. If Sherlock was going on a case, John couldn't exactly let him go on his own, could he? "I'll call Sarah and let her know I won't be in."

"It's already been done." Sherlock waved a dismissive hand before crouching down to put something in one of the suitcases. John sighed and shook his head. It felt like he no longer made decisions for himself and he really should have put a stop to it but at the moment he was too exhausted.

"Alright, I'll see you in the morning." John said heading for the stairs to pass out on his bed.

"No time for sleep, John, we're leaving now." Sherlock said closing the suitcase and standing.

"Now?" John asked scrunching his face in confusion.

"Yes, now." Sherlock replied impatiently. "Do try to keep up John. I realize you're sleep deprived and will therefore be a bit slower than usual but you can do better than that. Why would I pack the suitcases now if we were leaving in the morning?"

Because you're mental? John thought but didn't dare say it out loud. "We're leaving now? Right this second?"

"Our plane is already waiting for us and it's a fifteen minute cab ride to Fitton airfield." Sherlock explained quickly.

"Our plane? Please tell me you don't own an a plane." Although for some reason that wasn't very hard to believe considering everything he knew about the man.

"Don't be ridiculous John. Mycroft has arranged for a private charter plane to take us to Paris."

"A private jet?" John's head was all fuzzy from the lack of sleep. It felt like Sherlock was talking nonsense. Of course then Sherlock actually did start talking nonsense.

"Yes, I'm a bit worried about what kind of outfit it is. I went on their website and it was frightening stuff. A line of dancing planes."

"What?"

"It's not important. Come along John." Sherlock said walking over and guiding John out the door. John willingly obeyed and started down the stairs. He wasn't remotely surprised to find there was already a taxi waiting. Sherlock had grabbed their bags and put them in the boot.

"So are you going to tell me about the case?" John asked when Sherlock had climbed into the cab and was sitting next to him.

"All in good time." Sherlock said with a grin before giving their destination to the cabbie.