Disclaimer: nothing mine, everything is ACD's and/or BBC's. I took a bit of inspiration from the restaurant teaser I did NOT watch, but I read about it from other people's fanfiction. So, probably a lot of mess up. Forgive me. Oh, and I have two competing Return scenarios in mind. I'll write both, please enjoy this for a start.

Unexpected

Sherlock ran mental simulations of his Return (it's not egotism, the capital is really needed) for months. He created countless scenarios of John's reactions, ranging from violence (most likely) to shock to disbelief to coldness (please, not this) and was ready to counter each and every one of them appropriately. But when he did come back, John's reaction astounded him. John always, always managed to surprise Sherlock (he should have remembered that bit). It's part of why they were so good together. A boring companion would have been unbearable.

If you managed to pilfer Mycroft's CCTV records, this is what you'd see.

He's crashing John's date (old habits die hard, especially when all you want is to go back – to former times). Well, not quite ruining the date since the Girl of the Week (ok, more than a week, according to Mycroft) is fashionably late herself. He cannot wait another second though, so he approaches his friend quietly and calls, "John." He hopes his reappearance in such a public place will postpone the violence that he suspects may occur.

"Sherlock," the doctor acknowledges. He doesn't sound angry, or flabbergasted. Instead he sounds (Sherlock is not 100% sure as this is an emotional thing) almost – annoyed. A normal reaction to this specific custom of the detective, if today was normal, which it's not. Perhaps John believes Sherlock to be a hallucination.

"Sit down," John prompts, and Sherlock does, stealing the chair meant for the absent girlfriend. He's ready to prove he's real but John speaks again, "I hope you haven't been working on just one case all this time, Sherlock…because if you have, you are very much off your game." Obviously aware of Sherlock's old trick. And unimpressed. Very much so.

The lack of praise (yes, he expected praise for cheating death; how pitiful) actually hurts, even though it shouldn't since Sherlock is more than used to being mocked but…this is John.

So, instead of ignoring the barb, or replying with something more scathing (and usually unrelated) he justifies himself, "Moriarty's web spanned all over the world, John. And I had to destroy every last thread."

"And?" his friend says, looking at him expectantly. Clearly he still thinks Sherlock was too damn slow.

"I was alone," he whispers. He didn't mean to say it. In all his simulations, he never told John more than a few sentences about his time away. He certainly didn't draw attention to his loneliness. Why had that become a bad thing after John anyway? It used to be almost comforting.

"You didn't have to be," John hisses back. He's finally working himself up to angry. Good. Sherlock is prepared to deal with anger. A shadow behind him stops his reply, though.

"Hello, Mary," John welcomes her with a wide smile, "told you Sherlock would crash a date sooner or later."

The feminine gasp proves she hadn't believed him. Idiot. And Sherlock can't deduce her without moving to look at her, but he doesn't want to move a muscle lest he be chased away. He isn't back in John's good graces yet.

"Figures it would be today; I was long due for a dose of Murphy's Law," the doctor remarks, shaking his head. Years ago, this would have meant nothing to Sherlock but John had explained this law to him. Like everything John taught him, he never got around to deleting it. Sherlock is mildly nauseous that his return is classified as 'things going wrong.'

"You couldn't wait a bit, could you? I might have been engaged. God, if you were slow enough, maybe even married!" John continues, eliciting twin, "What?" from both Sherlock and Mary.

"Well, it's useless now. I really, really love you, Mary, and if you'd believed me and consequently be ready to face him, I wouldn't even have to suggest this. But my life is about to get crazier than ever – it always is, when he's around – and therefore this is so not the time to plan a wedding. Just the opposite; perhaps it would be best to put things on hold for a little bit? Until it all gets sorted at least?" he suggests, weary. It's so cliché he'd roll eyes at himself. But what else is he supposed to do?

Sherlock's relief is so deep he's almost dizzy; he still is higher priority than any girl for John, even when he's not entirely forgiven.

Mary shrieks another "What?" and then finally enters the sleuth's visual field…to slap John. Hard.

"How shameless you are," the detective's baritone drawls "not to mention self-deluded. Ah, but that runs in the family, doesn't it? Whatever you think you've inferred from the blog, marrying John is not the answer to dealing with your brother's schizophrenia. You might want to lure a psychiatric professional next." John looks stricken (but Sherlock talked because John needed to know; doesn't he realize?) and Mary runs away crying, like she should. The intermezzo has finally ended.

A long sigh, then the doctor whispers, "At least now I know what the bloody family emergencies were."

"You had no idea and you wanted to get engaged?!" Sherlock replies.

"If I'd married her at least her relations wouldn't be likely to kidnap me," he quips.

"I wouldn't be so sure, John; these kind of people are awfully unstable."

"I suppose so," John agrees, with a sudden chuckle. "You still have a lot of explaining to do, Mister and this is not the right place." He tugs Sherlock by the wrist to lead him. Hopefully home. But honestly, anywhere would be fine.