Sherlock's last words to John and his reaction to them was all Sherlock knew as the plane took off. He vaguely knew that he should be upset that he was essentially going to his death and was never going to see anyone he cared for (and some he just tolerated) ever again, but...The shock on John's face, the tremble of his lip, the widening of his eyes, kept running through Sherlock's head. For once, his brain wasn't jumping from subject to subject, or desperately looking for stimulation. It was stuck.
That was, until the call came in.
Suddenly his mind was going a mile a minute, the image of John pushed to the side as the plane turned around and headed back to London. Theories on how he survived, theories of how his archenemy could have pulled this stunt, theories on who the person really was behind this (it was entirely logical to think that it wasn't Moriarty) ran quickly through the detective's mind. He was so preoccupied with theories and data and angles and 'did you miss me' and not enough evidence-
He didn't even notice that the plane had landed once more and people were ushering him out.
It was ironic that the only thing to yank him from it all was a voice. Not just any voice though.
"Sherlock!"
His body stiffened when he heard John's loud voice call his name. He became alert in an instant and quickly took in the scene. John was a few feet from him, stiff and blank. Mary was behind him, tears in her eyes but a small smile on her face. Sherlock brushed that fact off, assuming it unimportant.
Now that John had his attention, he turned to his wife and whispered, "Mary...Can you leave us for a second?"
A look of understanding passed on her face and she nodded to both of them before heading over to the car that held Sherlock's brother.
That's when he realized.
"John..." Sherlock's voice shook, and that was...unnerving to say the least.
The army doctor just sighed, before striding over confidently to the detective.
Before Sherlock could apologize, or insist he didn't mean it, or simply say he meant it in a friendly manner, lips were on his. They were rough, and dry, but that didn't ruin the kiss any. After all, it was so warm and it was so much more...caring then any other kiss he'd ever been on the receiving end of. That fact alone made his whole mind stutter and stop.
It worked better then any drug.
John pulled away after only a few seconds, but he didn't go too far. With his face still close, he whispered, "You're the thickest genius I've ever met."
Sherlock frowned to convey his confusion, since his mouth hadn't caught up with his brain or his communication skills yet.
"I love you too you idiot."
Sherlock's brain was still stuttering, but he was pretty sure of what he was supposed to do next.