No Worries

My first ever story on AFF. Comments is love :)

He had let himself stray close to the glass wall and was looking down into the terminal at a familiar coat-clad figure. Sherlock was pacing, fidgeting in a way John knew meant he was dying for a fag, casting nervous glances towards the arrivals hall. John, looking down from nearly four metres above him and behind one of those holed-through adverts stuck to the glass wall, would be practically invisible to the detective.
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to proceed," a ground attendant told him.
"Oh, sorry." He'd really become captivated by the sight of a worried Sherlock. He let the attendant chivvy him on down towards passport control and the exit.

He deliberately walked a little slower than necessary, deliberately looked in the wrong direction first. When he heard the oh-so familiar voice call his name he turned.
Sherlock was leaning against a pillar about ten metres away, smiling that infuriatingly smug smile, completely relaxed and at ease with himself. "John," he said again as the doctor reached him. "Your plane was late."
"You're telling me," John replied tiredly. "Can we just go home?"
"Come on, let's go find a cab."

He waited until they were in the cab and well under way before saying, "I hope you weren't too worried," as casually as he could.
"Why would I be worried?" The reply, word for word as John had predicted it. The words snapping out just a fraction too quickly.
John affected a shrug. "No reason," he said.
"Exactly." Sherlock's voice was calm once more. "Dinner at Angelo's tonight?"
John smiled to himself. Ah, it was good to be home.