The plane was about to leave and everyone was waiting. Sherlock had asked for one last moment with his friend. There was something on his mind and he knew he could not possibly leave without saying anything and this might be his last chance to say it.
"John, there's something ... I should say; I-I've meant to say always and then never have. Since it's unlikely we'll ever meet again, I might as well say it now."
He hesitated for a long time, then drew in a deep breath and raised his eyes to John's. When their eyes met, John could see that something was up. He may not have been as clever as the great Sherlock Holmes, but he got to know the man pretty well over the past couple of years and he knew when something was on his friend's mind.
They both stayed in silence for what seemed like forever, Sherlock's eyes back on the ground. Feeling slightly uncomfortable, John broke the silence. " Well, what is it?" he asked, unsure he was ready for an answer.
Sherlock scanned John from head to toe before meeting his eyes again. "This is it" he thought, "Just say it!"
"John.. I..." he started with confusion in his voice. John looked at him with an even more confused look than before. Sherlock shook himself up quickly. This wasn't the way the great Sherlock Holmes was supposed to act. He was always the strong and emotionless one, and now that he finally let himself feel something, it felt like he was not in complete control of his mental faculties, which he hated. This needed to be said and it needed to be said right. This was his only chance and he was not going to let his emotional side, if he had any, get in the way.
"I love you" he finally said in his cold and deep voice.
Sherlock saw John's pupils dilate to their widest, either from terror or excitement.
"What?!" John asked in a clearly panicked voice.
Sherlock frowned.
"Wh-why would you say that Sherlock?!" John asked, with what sounded now more like an angry voice.
Sherlock stayed silent, more confused than ever.
"Say something! Sherlock?" said John, now starting to feel concerned about his friend's lack of talking.
"I'm sorry, that was not the reaction I was expecting..." answered Sherlock.
John looked at him, incredulous. "Not what you expected? You've got to be kidding me Sherlock! This is no joking matter! You can't just tell people you love them because it's part of your little games! I swear to God, Sherlock..." he said angrily.
"It's not a game, John", simply answered the detective, unimpressed by his friend's over the top reaction.
"It's not?"
"Of course it's not."
John starred at him in silence for a while. "Sherlock... What do you mean..?"
"I mean this is not one of my little games, as you like to call them"
"No, no, I know what it's not a game means. I meant the other thing. What did you mean when you said..."
"I love you?"
"Yes.." John cleared his throat. "Yes, that."
"Oh." simply said Sherlock. "Well I meant what I said, what's more to explain."
John thought about it for a second then said in a soft voice "Then stay."
"Stay? Wh-Why? I can't stay John, Mycroft's waiting for me to, hum, save the world or something. Why would I stay?"
"Because I love you too" answered John in a breath.
Sherlock's eyes grew wide, this time out of surprise and excitement, though his facial expression quickly changed as Sherlock frowned.
"You do?" he asked in pure confusion.
John simply smiled in response.
"Why?" asked Sherlock in a meaningful tone.
"Why?" repeated John with a soft laugh. "Sherlock, you are the best man I've ever known. I've never felt more alive in my long and miserable life than when I'm with you. You take me on adventures, you make me laugh, you make me mad far too often, but to be honest, I wouldn't have it any other way. You make me a better man Sherlock, you do." He paused briefly before adding "Plus, I've been living with you for the past couple of years and I had to put up with all of your heads in the fridge and gun holes in the wall, so I guess that counts as love" he said with a chuckle.
Sherlock listened to John's little speech with a big smile up on his face. John Watson, his John, said he loved him too. That was better than expected. It was better than any morbid but fun case he would solve. It was better than tea. Better than playing the violin. Better than beating his brother at a mind game. Better than anything he's ever come to know.
Sherlock got shaken from his thoughts when John broke the silence. "Would you stay with me Sherlock?" he said with a shy smile.
The detective turned to face his brother and gave him a meaningful look. Mycroft simply nod and gave a hand signal to his crew to board the jet. As Sherlock turned back to John, their eyes met and the tall man gave him a smile. John laid out his hand for Sherlock to take. Sherlock quickly grabbed it and thought to himself "better than the word better."