Sherlock glanced back over to John as he spoke, watching the tiny movements, making note of even the most subtle flickers of emotion, cataloging and registering them as unique, putting them all together and wondering over the strange patchwork puzzle they made in his mind. He was in unfamiliar territory with this and it was somewhat terrifying.

Was it though? Why should he be terrified? He shouldn't be. Should he? No, not at all. That much should have been clear enough to him. He had no reason to be afraid.

"It could be." He said without thinking, staring at John, his brow furrowing a bit before he looked back away again, mussing with the map, restless. He was never one for long car rides and all of this tension was only making the journey that much more worse. "All I'm saying is that... I feel like I think a lot about you. Too much, maybe. And maybe that's for a real reason." The frown returned and he looked back out the window, rubbing at the edges of his mouth. "On the other hand," he cleared his throat, throwing his hand down rather abruptly back into his lap. "I really could use some funnel cake."