"Oh, thanks." He gave another little jerk of his shoulders, and then he looked up at him with a slightly subdued smile. "It could be, I guess. That'd be nice." But he had already decided that it wasn't. Whatever had happened to Watson and to him, it was real, because this was not how a dream or even a hallucination felt. He'd enjoyed enough nightmares and enough drugs to know the difference. Either someone was fucking with him - first choice Sherlock, but he'd have been unlikely to drag Watson into the mess, so maybe not - or this was just ... something completely different.
"So you've just come back into town," he said with the clunky air of someone trying to get off an unpleasant topic. "I hope you like it. I mean, I know you will. It's really good having you around Bart's. The two of you, of course. You're just ... a lot easier to talk to than he is."