"No one?" he asks, surprised. He hadn't expected Watson's reaction to be so surprised, but then again, Holmes's prior relationships had had strong literary components from the start. "Then I suppose no one has mentioned to you that you have a face that inspires poetry?" He smiles lightly and kisses Watson again, gently, before he props himself up on one arm.

He shuffles quickly through the library of poems in his head before settling on one a little more recent than the Bard, but nonetheless suitable.

"The fountains mingle with the river
And the rivers with the ocean,
The winds of Heaven mix for ever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single,
All things by a law divine
In one spirit meet and mingle -
Why not I with thine?"

He pauses for his memory and breath's sake, and he gently traces his fingers along Watson's jawline. He'd nearly forgotten what joy could be derived from such a private performance as this, and he thinks fondly of the stage, which he hasn't done in a while either.

"See the mountains kiss high Heaven
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea -
What are all these kissings worth
If thou kiss not me?"

Through this last stanza, he gets nearer and nearer to Watson's lips, so that he says the last line very nearly on Watson's lips themselves.