"Mr. Holmes! Wh-what are you doing here?"

Sherlock Holmes, reputed rake and highly eligible bachelor, raised one elegant eyebrow before glancing down at the fan clutched so nervously in Miss Molly Hooper's hand. "Ah," he said, bowing slightly. "You were signaling someone else with your fan to meet in the gardens. I thought you were looking at me…well this is awkward."

Miss Hooper's cheeks turned red with mortification. "I was not...how dare…"

He had the audacity to laugh at her reaction. "However, I fear the object of your flirtation, Mr. Thomas Ashe, is untutored in the language of the fans, and is currently dancing with Miss Janine Hawkins."

Instead of wilting, Miss Hooper straightened her (delightfully bared) shoulders and gave him a look of cool appraisement. "The same Miss Hawkins who has been seen much in your company as of late, Mr. Holmes?" She snapped open her fan and fluttered it in front of her (impishly lovely) face, so that only her (large, doe-like) brown eyes showed above the yellow lace.

Sherlock studied her through narrowed eyes. Clumsy as her use of the fan had been when attempting to signal to the young man for whom she'd presumably set her cap - and as nervous as her reaction to him had been when he instead of the insipid Mr. Ashe had joined her - he'd anticipated a corresponding lack of spirit in her responses to him. Instead, he found himself facing a very spirited young lady, not at all the wallflower society whispered her to be.

"Miss Hawkins finds my company tolerable only in that I am able to steer her towards the unmarried young bucks who might best suit her temperament," he said, surprising both Miss Hooper and himself with his honesty. "She believes me to be, shall we say, uninterested in the charms of the fairer sex, despite my reputation to the contrary."

"And why would she believe such a thing?" Miss Hooper asked, her fan lowered and her face bright with curiosity. "Could it be because you have deliberately led her to such an understanding, in order to keep her attention away from you? I have heard that you are not much interested in putting aside the freedoms of bachelorhood in order to take on the role of husband."

"Well, Miss Hooper," he replied, dropping his voice an octave and quite enjoying the way she swallowed and moved a nervous step backwards, "I find that you are much more interesting than you have presented yourself previously at these tedious functions."

He took a deliberate step forward, causing her to back up yet again, until stopped by the presence of a pear tree. He leaned one arm above her shoulder and dipped his head low. "Tell me, Miss Hooper," he purred as his mouth hovered just above hers, "what other fascinating things shall I learn about you this night?"

She surprised him yet again by breathing out, "Why don't you kiss me, Mr. Holmes, and find out?"

Sherlock quirked an eyebrow in surprise, lips curling in a reluctant smile of admiration at her daring - nay, challenging! - response to his blatant sexual teasing. If she thought he'd back down she was in for a shock as he closed the slight distance between and claimed her lips with his own.

oOo

Oh, la, what was she doing? Molly felt her heart hammering in her chest, not so much a frightened dove seeking freedom as a war-drum beating out a dangerous rhythm. Sherlock Holmes had just complimented her; he'd joined her in the moonlit garden even knowing that her fan signal hadn't been for him...and now he was kissing her. Her very first kiss, and hardly the chaste, tender peck her novels told her young ladies should expect from their swains. No, this kiss was hungry and demanding and made her heart beat even faster.

She barely noticed when she looped her arms around his neck, her hands clinging there for dear life as he slid his tongue between her lips. Her mouth parted in surprise and then his tongue was sliding against hers and it was all sorts of sinful and wrong and she never, ever wanted it to end.

All too soon, alas, he pulled back, studying her intently. She felt her already-flushed cheeks warming even more beneath his scrutiny, but she raised her chin and met his gaze unflinchingly.

"Miss Hooper," he said, "I do believe we are about to shock everyone at this ball."

"How so, Mr. Holmes?" she asked.

His smile was closer to a smirk as he stepped away from her, bowed, then straightened and offered his arm. "Because I am going to fill your dance card, cause Miss Hawkins to berate me for misleading her, and give your chaperone palpitations when I announce my intention to call on you tomorrow." He tsked in mock sorrow. "All very shocking behavior for a supposed rake."

It might be a scandal in the making and the ruining of her reputation, but all Miss Molly Hooper could do was laugh helplessly and allow him to lead her back into the ballroom.

No matter how the night might end, she decided, it would all very much be worth it.