Sometimes I just wanna kiss you

"Thank you again for saving my husband from going in jail," a brunette woman thanked Sherlock. She stood in front of him and John with her husband, mister Drake, who was hugging her. "I don't know, what I would do, if I wasn't in his arms right now."

"It's always a pleasure to help, madam," Sherlock nodded.

"Mhm," John confirmed his friend, with his mind barely on the subject. He just sawMary walk in, his long-term girlfriend. They were together long enough to make Sherlock acknowledge her name and to make him realize Mary was here to stay.

"We should be off now," said mister Drake. "Goodbye, mister Holmes, and thanks again."

They walked away and John took the opportunity to go to his own girlfriend. Sherlock rolled his eyes at the sight of them kissing.

"Funny, how suddenly everyone has that special someone, huh?"

Sherlock turned to see Molly, who came up to him. She could see the slight surprise in his eyes, but then it was replaced with confusion.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, you know. Love seems to be ruling over around here," Molly shrugged. "Just look at everyone. Mister and mrs Drake, John and Mary, Lestrade and his wife ..."

"She's still cheating on him," Sherlock darkly pointed out as they both looked at the married couple. Mrs Lestrade was glancing over and winking at one of the officers.

"Well, they at least appear happy," Molly sighed. "And even Donovan found her strange match," – they both looked over to Donovan and Anderson, who were talking and laughing over coffee, in more than just a friendly manner – "Who knew that hating you would bring two people together?"

Sherlock dismissed her last comment and rather looked at the small and shy pathologist besides him.

"And you?"

"Me?" Molly looked confused. "What about me?"

"Are you currently in a relationship?" Sherlock asked. Molly found the question a little suggestive, but didn't quite know in which direction it was turning.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked, hoping he would pay her a piece of his twisted genius mind.

"Well, you are only noticing all the sentiment here now, although it is all here for ages," Sherlock said. "Usually feelings of the observer alone can cause seeing so much of the same feeling around them."

"I'm not dating anyone," Molly said, oblivious to Sherlock's gleam of happiness that was shown for a moment in his eyes. "And I don't have to be an expert or in love to see what's in front of me."

Sherlock looked around again and saw mister Drake kiss the top of his wife's head as they walked out, how John kissed Mary on the lips and how Donovan kissed Anderson's cheek before she left.

He looked at Molly. She had lipstick on her lips. A new shade, he noted. It fitted her. Her lips were nicely emphasized and a small smile on her face brightened her whole face even more.

There was something inviting on her lips. Like they would have a voice of their own, screaming at him to touch her, to ... To kiss her.

Sherlock shook that thought out of his mind. There was never anything about kissing he found attractive. Too much spit, mixed up together, while the two lovers sucked their faces off. But still, why did he suddenly want to kiss her?

"I have to go," he said, trying to get the beautiful picture of kissing Molly Hooper out of his mind. In conflict with his words, his legs wouldn't move and his heart – yes, his heart. He had no idea what was going on – didn't want to leave.

"Yeah, I should go, too," Molly replied, seemingly facing with a similar problem. Sherlock's legs finally moved, but not in the direction he wanted them to. Instead of walking away, he took a step towards Molly. And another. And another.

He leaned in, much to Molly's surprise. His mind, eyes, lips and whole body itself, aimed for her lips, but in the last moment, he got a hold of it and changed the course, pressing his lips softly to her cheek.

"Catch you later, Molly Hooper," he said, just wanting to go already.

Molly looked at him, dumbfounded. She bit her lip, trying to suppress a big smile. He wanted to kiss her on her lips. It wasn't just her imagination, she could already feel his breath on them.

Sherlock Holmes tried to kiss her.

And she wouldn't mind, if he succeeded.

(A/N: please, R&R! And I hope you enjoyed this one at least as much as I enjoyed writing it ;))