Sherlock stopped in his tracks. John halted in the doorway as he saw that Sherlock wasn’t moving forward.
“Sherlock? What is it? Are you coming?”
“In a moment, John.” he said in a strangely calm and controlled voice. Then he turned around to face in the direction of their friends again.
“Oh Molly?” Sherlock called back over to the table, and she looked over at him. “Molly I almost forgot something. Could you come here a minute?”
Molly immediately got up from her seat and began walking toward the door. The rest of the party was watching as well, since Sherlock had to yell over to get Molly’s attention. As she made her way over to where Sherlock stood, he began taking quick strides over to meet her halfway. In the space of that ten second stride Sherlock also reached up and quickly loosened and yanked off the scarf that was, as always, looped in the front of his neck. He then literally tossed the scarf behind him where it happened to land on the head of an unsuspecting man who sat at a neighboring table. Just as Molly was starting to open her mouth to ask what he was doing, she was stopped short.
And everyone else’s mouths dropped to the floor.
Sherlock halted only when he’d come toe to toe with her and the split second before he’d reached forward to grab her head in his hands and cradle her face. He didn’t hesitate even a bit as he dove downward and pressed a strong, insistent, and passionate kiss onto her lips.
Sherlock felt Molly let out a slight gasp at the first contact of his lips, but then she almost instantly relaxed against him and he felt her hands dart up to hold tight to the collar of his coat. Her mouth then responded more than willingly against his own… and the kiss was very mutually deepened.
The fire from that kiss was palpable to just about everyone who had functioning eyesight.
“I knew it! I knew it! What did I say?!” Anderson exclaimed as he pounded a fist on the table and glared at the rest of them. But nobody else could even pick their jaws up from the ground, let alone make any sort of answer.
Sherlock kissed Molly till he felt dizzy and began to forget why he had even started this in the first place. He was only jolted back to reality when he felt her fingers leave the fabric of his coat collar and slide up against the bare skin of his neck. He finally pulled his face away, gently separating their now swollen lips. They stared back at each other while trying to still their unsteady and heavy breathing. Molly’s pupils consumed almost the entire iris in her eyes and he could only assume, to his slight embarrassment, that his looked about the same.
Sherlock was vaguely aware that a few random tables of people started clapping. But for the moment, he could only focus his gaze on Molly. He cleared his throat and swallowed before attempting to speak.
“Forgive me Molly… I- I needed to… prove a point.” and he finally slid his hands away from her face. They suddenly felt empty as they hung by his sides. She let her hands fall away from his neck as well.
“N-nothing to uh… forgive.” she tried to say evenly, but her voice cracked of course. She had to then clear her own throat and quickly lick her lips before saying anything else. “I’m not sure what you were trying to er, prove… but I’m sure you proved it.”
Sherlock’s mouth curled in a small smile as he looked down at the sweet woman smiling back at him. Then he straightened himself and fixed his collar again, turning to face the rest at the table.
“I think she’s fascinating because over time, certainly by the time you get to the second series, she wins every encounter with Sherlock. All the time, always. And by being honest and truthful with him. He’s so on the back foot now with Molly, I think it’s hilarious. In a way that John can never put Sherlock on the back foot, Molly really, really does. She sort of wins every single conversation.” - Steven Moffat