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After a few days of observation, Sherlock had determined that he wanted to kiss you. Not on the lips, that was too personal, too intimate for what he had in mind. He had settled to kiss the apple of your cheek. His logic wasn't entirely sound on the subject, so Sherlock devised this little experiment… It was all John's fault!
You had become a part of the duo as a live-in maid, courtesy of Mrs. Hudson. Every morning, you made breakfast for Mrs. Hudson and the gentlemen downstairs. When you first met them… another story for another time. Anyway, you had become a permanent fixture in their lives whether the men liked it or not.
John had taken the information quite well, even if he thought it was strange for Mrs. Hudson to hire someone so suddenly. He had enjoyed your company, the small talk moments. Though he admitted to you one day that he felt kind of useless not having to clean the flat all the time or shop for groceries or… anything really. You had made a deal with Mr. Watson though – you would ask if he needed something cooked up and if they needed anything from the store immediately, but the cleaning would still be yours to do. However, you left John's tea making to him; Sherlock was very particular about his tea.
Sherlock was not happy when he learned that Mrs. Hudson had hired you. He immediately deployed ways to get rid of "the new maid" – outright ignoring you, creating difficult messes, leaving hazardous messes, even going so far as to have you arrested. But you came back every day, except for those two days you were in jail, and thankfully it was "a misunderstanding" and the incident wouldn't go on your record. You made it clear Mrs. Hudson was your employer and that wasn't about to change. As time went on, you became more comfortable around them and they were more comfortable with you.
The first time John kissed your cheek, you were making breakfast for him and Sherlock (that is if he chose to eat). You were just buttering toast when John came in, and Sherlock was enjoying his tea, he grabbed a slice of toast, rounded the counter, and pecked your cheek. At that moment, the kitchen froze. Sherlock was about to brush off the entire moment, but then John turned and said,
"I am so sorry, (y/n). That was very inappropriate of me-"
"It's alright, John." You interrupted him quickly, turning back around to hide your small shy smile. John returned it without your notice, sat with Sherlock, and munched away at his toast.
Now that little exchange had piqued Sherlock's internet. He'd studied human emotion and reaction before, and was quite good at deducing the correct result. He knew John would pause and then immediately apologize, which he did. Sherlock also expected John to receive a reprimand with grace. However, when he thought you'd instruct John to never kiss you again, you didn't. You told John that it was alright and quickly turned to hide your flustered reaction. Sherlock then concluded that you had feelings for Dr. Watson, and would therefore invite further advances.
As the weeks passed, the frequency of John's cheek kisses increased, but it never went beyond that. Sherlock figured that John was biding his time with you, woo you into a romantic relationship. It never went in that direction, so Sherlock sought a different answer. He found that John had changed since he started kissing your cheek. He observed that John seemed lighter on his feet, inflections in his speech changed. Happier? Pleasant? Sherlock wasn't sure how to explain what he was seeing. It just didn't make sense to him. Then, the detective came around.
Sherlock had no idea why the hell it happened, which infuriated him to no end, but Detective Lestrade had kissed your cheek one day. Just like John, it was no more than a peck on your cheek. It was friendly, not sexual or romantic. Not assertive or possessive, a greeting, just an acknowledgement. It was a bloody kiss on the cheek! It shouldn't have affected both parties so – the gentle smiles, the shy tilt of the head, the "twinkle" in their eyes. It was maddening to Sherlock that he couldn't figure out this simple action. And therefore, this experiment was made.
It was morning. You were making breakfast around the awful mess Sherlock had made last night; he was up all night thinking. The best thing you could manage was toast because most of the pots and pans were covered in things you really didn't want to think about.
Sherlock had walked into the kitchen; you hardly paid him any mind. He had his favorite teacup in hand, stepped next to you to reach for the sugar. Sherlock stood there relaxed, his hands rested on top of the counter. He could see the inner workings of your mind, seeing your subtle glances his way and how your hands still moved with ease. He knew that you were curious as to why he was standing so close to you. Sherlock carefully stirred his tea and waited for the perfect moment to kiss your cheek. One kiss and it should explain everything that he couldn't figure out.
. . .
Now!
"Mr. Holmes, did you-"
Sherlock was kissing your nose. You had turned your head to regard him, but he never expected that he'd kiss your nose. He clearly underestimated the difficulty of kissing one’s cheek, yours specifically.
Your eyes met for a split second before Sherlock pulled away. Butter knife still in hand, you stared up at the disgruntled man. You had no idea what to say. With a nearly-silent growl, Sherlock shouted,
"John, we have a case!"
Sherlock set down his tea and grabbed his coat. Once John was downstairs, you returned your attention to the toast, received a kiss on the cheek, and a 'thank you' from John. You hadn't noticed that Sherlock had seen that too.
In the cab, Sherlock was practically seething at his failed attempt. He couldn't manage one kiss on the cheek, one quick peck on the cheek! If only you hadn't moved–
You moved!, he thought accusingly.
Sherlock made a sound of disgust and said, "How can you kiss Maid (l/n) every morning? It's pathetic how much you pine after them."
"Alright, I am not pining after (y/n)-"
"You immediately denied it though."
"I'm correcting you because it's not true. And I enjoy kissing (y/n) on the cheek because… I can."
"That's very presumptuous of you and definitely not an acceptable answer."
"I-I don't know, Sherlock, I just enjoy it. To see them smile and know they enjoy being around our crazy lives, it's a good feeling."
"We enjoy our lives." Sherlock countered. "You'd be bored if you didn't have these cases."
"Excuse me, you would too. And that's not the point. (y/n) enjoys being around us, someone that isn't us. An outsider, if you will."
Sherlock hadn't expected to find a hint of loneliness in John's voice. Even he had to admit that it was nice to share in the craziness with not only John but you too. He just didn't expect to admit that even to himself.
They went into Scotland Yard and were quickly directed to Detective Lestrade's desk, which he wasn't at. Sherlock, more or less, rammed through the office while John had to apologize to the people that were nearly knocked down and "try" to get Sherlock to stop, chasing after the man.
"Sherlock," John shouted. "Would you stop? You can't just-"
Too late.
"You have a case for me, Detective," Sherlock stated as he entered the room.
"Sherlock? I didn't even call you."
"Obviously. Your stupidity beacon was detectable, even from my flat."
"Well." Lestrade huffed. "This is what we have so far," he said as he slid the file to the consulting detective.
For the next three days, Sherlock and John barely returned to the flat and therefore hardly saw you. You left them microwave-safe containers of food, which John greatly enjoyed and Sherlock nibbled at. You knew to make yourself scarce when they were on a case, worried you might disturb them. You just couldn’t stop thinking about that nose kiss.
How peculiar, you thought to yourself as you wiped down the counter.