She grins at him. She likes him. She probably would've kissed him herself within a day or two.

There's her house.

"I don't know if Charlie's looking out the window, but - lemme find out some way to explain you to him before risking it, okay?" she says ruefully, letting go of Sherlock's hand. "It might take me a while to come up with something sufficiently likely to leave your next favorite coat intact."