They sat as far apart as the small backseat of the cab would allow, both refusing to be the first to break the silence and look at the other. John scratched at his head with the hand that wasn't wrapped up in a cast from their recent endeavor. Sherlock crossed his arms across his chest and let out a deep sigh.
"Oh shut up," John rolled his eyes cast a sideways glance at Sherlock.
"Am I bothering you?" Sherlock asked as he clenched his forearms with his fingers.
"Just stop it," John said.
"I said I was sorry John," Sherlock pointed out.
"And I never asked for an apology."
"You just don't get it," John slapped his hand down on his knee, causing the driver to raise an eyebrow at the pair through the rearview mirror.
"Please," Sherlock all but screamed, "explain it to me!"
"You do these things and get us into these situations and you never think about what could happen to us!"
"Don't be overdramatic John, you broke your wrist," Sherlock scoffed.
"I am not talking about my bloody wrist! Or my leg or my jaw! I am talking about you!"
"I'm fine," Sherlock said, holding out both arms to prove to John that he was completely unscathed.
"This time! This time you're fine, but what about next time? What about when things don't work out how the great Sherlock Holmes thinks they will?"
"Death doesn't frighten me," Sherlock stated.
"Well it frightens me!" John screamed, they were now stopped in a row of traffic and the driver was turned around and watching them. "Look Sherlock I love you but-"
"You love me?" Sherlock asked, cutting him off from the rest of his sentence.
"Oh you know what I mean," John sighed but he felt his cheeks warm all the same.
"I think I'm starting too," Sherlock said, looking into his eyes for the first time. Neither were aware of the drivers wide doe eyes and eager expression at the transaction between the pair. John felt the sides of his lips twitch but still refused a smile. Sherlock wasn't smiling; he kept a very serious expression as he watched his friend.
When Mrs. Hudson arrived back at the flat that evening she found the two sitting at opposite ends of the couch. John was typing on his laptop while Sherlock read the paper, neither seeming to acknowledge the other's presence. However she noticed a change in the two men, something she couldn't quite explain.
"Tea?" She asked after she hung up her coat.
"Yes," they answered in unison, neither looking up. When she returned later with the tea they were sitting in the middle of the sofa, arms barely touching.
"I'll just leave these on the table," she said as she placed the tray in front of them.
"Thank you," John said.
"Get out," Sherlock said seconds later.
"Bring em to the sink when you're finished, I won't be getting them," Mrs. Hudson warned, "I'm not your housekeeper you know." When she left, both turned to each other and cracked a smile.
"I care about you too John, you do know that don't you?" Sherlock asked.
"I believe the word I used was love," John corrected.
"Fine," Sherlock sighed as he ran a hand through his tousled locks, "I love you too."
"In a completely platonic way," John added.
"Of course," Sherlock agreed.