Molly, herself, had thought the flight too short. After all, it was only her second time in first class in her life. She had only just become accustomed to the luxury when they started to make their descent. For his part, Sherlock had looked like he was born in first class. That sort of thing would have made the old Molly feel insecure - like she wasn't posh or proper enough for the man by her side. New Molly pushed those feelings aside because she knew her place, knew he not only accepted her penchant for thrift store clothing and moderately priced wine, but found it an endearing part of who she was.

She didn't have to worry, however, that the luxurious part of the trip was over, not once the taxi pulled up in front of their hotel. Her brief run-in with the woman at the airport (where Molly was concerned at first that she might have been pick-pocketed) was all but forgotten as they checked in and were brought up to their lavish suite with the most exquisite view.

"You have truly outdone yourself, Sherlock," she said, almost breathless from the idea that this was theirs for an entire week. It was almost too much. "I'm embarrassed to say that sightseeing may have just dropped a bit further down on my to do list."

Which was saying a lot for someone like Molly who always had a mile-long list of things to do and see while on holiday.