#fff351

The scent of Sherlock sometimes overwhelmed John completely, and all he wanted was to lean his head on the other man’s shoulder and inhale deeply. Maybe place a kiss to his neck or run his fingers through those curls.

Sherlock in turn, became dizzy when John crouched down next to him; his calm presence paired with the intrigue of the grim scene before him, made the great detective want to snog his blogger senseless.

They did nothing of the sort, of course. The Work came first, and they were (mostly) professionals. 

But the thrumming energy between them needed an outlet, so when they walked away from the scene, both searched for an acceptable space behind the lights from the police cars and, more often than not, the emergency lights from the ambulance(s).

“The alcove,” John whispered, reaching for Sherlock’s hand.

“Perfect,” Sherlock praised and hurried after him.

Sherlock hunched down a little, widened his stance to make some sort of barrier between the street and the opening. In the dim light, his dark figure, dressed in his long coat, completely hid the alcove.

John was mindful of wrapping his arms around Sherlock’s waist inside the Belstaff; his bare hands would stand out against the dark fabric. To hide what they were doing, Sherlock needed to rest his arms and gloved hands on the wall, which intensified the experience tenfold. He hated that he couldn’t touch John, but he knew it would be worth the wait.

They kissed frantically for some glorious minutes, but when John spoke, Sherlock had to end the rendezvous.

“God, Sherlock, I can’t wait to have your hands on me. You’re gagging for it aren’t you? I can feel it. It’s so bloody sexy, you’ve no idea.”

It was a herculean effort to part from John’s lips and warmth, but Sherlock thought he would come in his pants if they kept it up much longer. They had run all over London for days, with only a few hours to spare for sleep, and he was harder than he’d been in a long while.

“Home. Now!” he growled.

John’s wicked chuckle did nothing to ease the arousal that was building with alarming speed. Luckily, a taxi approached them seconds later. Sherlock was quite certain he would have a hard time walking properly; his tailored trousers were becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

Neither of them was sad to see the emergency lights disappear behind them, and John wondered if it might be time to reveal their secret soon, though he found it indecently exciting to rile Sherlock up. Not that he was unaffected himself, but he had the benefit of slightly wider trousers than his vain boyfriend.

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It's a whole ordeal, but that's to be expected. Granted, when a person talks about landing on a planet, they usually mean just returning back to Earth after a flight, be it in a plane or the very rare honour of a spacecraft.

But I had to be different, didn't I?

I spent most of our descent to Erid unconscious - The same can be said for my first days and weeks there.

Armando dealt with keeping me from starving with intrusive wires and my muscles from atrophying with electrical stimulation.

There was only a vague awareness that I was still alive, and a much more stronger one of this… noise, this music, always surrounding me. And though it could have been terrifying, maybe should have been terrifying, I was comforted.

I could always hear Rocky by my side, even if I couldn't understand every sound he made, and I could hear something similar to his constant tinkering I had grown used to in our time together, only on a much larger scale. Really, I should have put together what that meant faster than I did.

It's the light that finally stirs me enough into a more wakeful state.

There's a flash, far too bright to be comfortable, and my thoughts are echoed by Rocky in an anxious fashion until it dims.

I open my eyes and see, for the first time in I don't know how long, so much colour. I'm not embarrassed to say I started crying almost immediately from the relief of being, in a much more palpable sense.

A weight presses carefully to my side, and when I look I find Rocky, no longer in his Xenonite ball but in a much less restrictive Xenonite suit. Lifting my hand to rest on top of it takes effort, but it's worth it to see his body language relax in response.

I understand entirely. I spent a long time waiting for him to wake up once - But I know I've taken longer than he did, somehow.

Then it hits me.

Light. Colours. Oxygen. Comfortable gravity. Rocky in a protective suit.

… No way.

I sit bolt upright, veer a little to the left, then straighten myself again. Above me are dancing lights, not unlike the Aurora Borealis on Earth, and when I focus my eyes into the distant sky I can just barely make out where the edges of panels meet each other.

Beneath me, sand. Or something like it.

"You did not make me my own little beach, Rock."

"Did, but not alone. Eridians all grateful Grace help save our star. All work together to make space for you with what I know."

Rocky drags a protected claws through the sand a little, carapace tilted down as though he's thoroughly inspecting it. I get the mental image of someone scuffing their shoe, trying to act casual.

"… I built your house. Stayed close. Made sure Armando had all supplies you need from Mary. Always watch. Adrian help."

Adrian!

I can't help grinning, getting an arm around Rocky and hauling him in closer for a noogie.

"And you were worried about them moving on. Looks like there was nothing to worry about at all, huh? Good for you, Rock! You'll have to thank them for me."

"You thank me first by stopping fist."

He wobbles his carapace, irritated, but I know he's not in that bad of a mood. I lived, after all. Not wanting to put a stop to that, I do indeed stop the noogie.

"If Grace can walk, can thank everyone. Try come to edge of dome, question? Should see some of everyone, at least."

And so starts my list of a million questions ("You built me a house but dragged me out here and got sand in my hair for when I woke up?" "Need Grace to know if light work properly. Stupid.") while Rocky helps me to my feet ("How did you make the sand? It's pretty good!" "Erid is rock planet. Sand is tiny rocks. Smart human scientist should know. Grace sleep more after say thanks, statement.").

With all we've been through, and all that's been done for me to get this far, I gladly take the sass as we stumble towards the edge of the dome, me with my legs slowly gaining proper function and Rocky slipping unsteady on the sand.

And then I see them. Not all of them, Rocky was right about that, but I know without prompting that before me, beyond the clear Xenonite panel, are so many Eridians of all different shapes, colours, and sizes - I'm amused, realising Rocky's actually a pretty small guy for his species.

He does his jazz hands and trills something I can't translate. In response the sea of his people who had all been leaning forward in anticipation seem to come to life - And the music I had been hearing in my dazed state returns tenfold.

What truly feels like a whole planet banded together to make sure I would live, and they jump with joy with the knowledge that they have succeeded in their goal.

The tears come back full force - Or maybe they never stopped in the first place, I can't be sure.

This day had hardly begun, in truth. Getting the spacefarers back to thesurface was just the first part. It would be nearly an hour before Iroh’s Special Diving Team would make contact with the capsule, though they’d be back on board the UFS Jeong Pi Mur-Ha within an hour after that. The medical checks alone were scheduled for two hours. Then they would be given thrity minutes to get cleaned up and changed before greeting their families.

The crew and families would be left alone to share a meal together, the press kept well away.

But then the families would be escorted back to their accomodations, and the spacers would be taken to the briefing room to face the world. She knew Kuvira would be there, ready to send reports back to Su in Zaofu. With Zaofu engineers scattered throughout the program, there was no reason to keep their reporter out.

Yes, this day, when she had already been awake for over twelve hours, had barely begun.

Not quite ready to relinquish the anxiety born of harsh experience, she tracked the capsule as it continued falling toward the gently rocking ocean. The teams of water benders waited on standby to catch the capsule and then float it on an ice floe to make retrieval easier.

The minutes crawled by at breakneck speed.

“Republic City, Integrity reporting in. We have splashdown. On standby to begin powering down.”

“Integrity, Republic City copies. Standby for equipment checks. Report on crew condition.”

Commander Sato responded with restrained cheer that all four of them were in excellent shape.

Beifong snorted to herself as she heard the phrase repeated over and over around the room.

The waterbending sailors circled the capsule, several of them diving into the water to check for debris and to encourage the wildlife to divert around the landing zone. When they had all surfaced and checked in, they coordinated a frozen platform sturdy enough to limit the rocking of the capsule.

The memory of being on one of those little boats, giddily waiting for the returning Bosco module over thirty years earlier overwhelmed her, and she took of her headset and stepped back into the corridor that led to meeting rooms, washrooms, and all the other parts of the facility.

She wrapped her arms around herself to give herself a moment to process the day so far.

And she pulled a slip of paper out of a pocket.

Here, behind the lights of the jubilant control room, Lin read over the names of the ones who had not come home. Lai-Ka. Kuruk, Ummi, and Kelsang. The four who were lost on the Challenger, and the four of the Balance.