He was sitting in a taxi, staring out the window. It had been a year since he last been in London, yet he was not paying attention to the city. He was thinking about his upcoming return to 221B, and John.
John.
It felt like a lifetime since he had last seen him.
He would be mad at him. Most likely kick him out. If he still lived there. No matter what, things would never be the same again. He still loved John. Probably always would.
The taxi stopped. Sherlock stared at the familiar building, dread in his heart. He unlocked the door( the lock had not been changed-good) and walked up the creaky stairs. All to soon, the door to the flat was in front of him.
He knocked.
After what felt like an eternity, the door opened. An all-to-familiar worn face stared at him for a moment.
And then broke into a huge(shocked) grin. John pulled him inside and shut the door.
Then John kissed him. Sherlock was stunned for a moment(this was not supposed to happen) before leaning into it.
He was finally home.
A/N: Just a short drabble in honor of the fact that Season 3 started filming today. This did not end up the way I thought it would go. I blame the sleep deprivation. Dialogue did not quite work properly, so there you go. Now I will go watch Reinenbech Fall and try to forget I have school tomorrow.