Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock…otherwise this is exactly how it would have gone down! It's based off a Tumblr post I saw.
Sherlock slid off his glove, trying to hold back tears.
"To the very best of times, John."
John took his outstretched hand. The words unspoken between the two men lingered in the air.
Why are you really leaving? What are you not telling me?
Can't you see how I feel? John, you deserve happiness, and you can't find it with me. How I feel doesn't matter.
"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."
Their eyes met.
What is he going to say?
What will he think of me? I shouldn't-but I have to. I need to let him know how I feel. I'm never going to see him again.
"John Watson…"
Sherlock drew in a shaky breath, and then he leaned forward, pressing his lips to John's. John drew in a startled breath, and he pulled away.
John stared at Sherlock, his eyes wide in astonishment.
"Sher-Sherlock?"
"I love you."
Sherlock turned, his icy blue-green eyes welling up with tears. John shook his head as if to clear it and grabbed Sherlock's arm, pulling him around to face him. He couldn't say anything. His throat was tight, because he knew that if Sherlock was telling him that, if Sherlock had kissed him, than Sherlock wasn't ever coming back. That was his note. And maybe that was why John kissed Sherlock, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him close. For an infinite moment, the consulting detective and his blogger did what they had both wanted to do forever.
Mycroft sighed.
"I suppose this means I owe Gregory twenty quid."
Mary stared in shock.
Sherlock unwound Johns arms from his and softly whispered a goodbye in his ear.
And he was gone.
The plane took off.
Mary turned to John, a shocked expression on her face.
"What the hell was that?"
John shook his head.
"I…I"
Mycroft climbed out of the car, his eyes frightened.
"We need Sherlock."
"Why?"
Did you miss me? Did you miss me? Did you miss me? Did you miss me?
Mary shook off her anger for a second.
"But Moriarty's dead. You said yourself. He shot himself in the face."
John glanced up at the jet plane, a smile curling up at the corner of his mouth.
"Well, if it is him, he'd better wrap up warm. There's an East Wind coming."
And the plane landed. Sherlock appeared in the doorway like an avenging angel, descending the stairs with his coat billowing around him.
"I'm back."
Mary crossed her arms.
"Yes, you are."
John's smile faded.
"Oh. Well…this is awkward."
A/N
Just a little one shot. Reviews would be great!
Did you miss me?