"Explain to me again why you need to learn how to dance," Sherlock commanded as he set up the cd player.
"I-it's a wedding," Molly mumbled, "My cousin," Sherlock made an indistinct noise in the back of his throat as he finished setting up the music. He threw his coat over one of the empty slabs, then turned and pushed play on the player. Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake filled the room and Sherlock motioned for Molly to step closer as the sweet notes played in the air. Molly hesitantly drew nearer and Sherlock, grinned at her. He didn't tell anyone, but he secretly loved ballroom dancing. It was unfortunate that somethings required a partner and he really wasn't about to ask anyone to dance with him, but since the opportunity had arisen, he figured he might as well take it.
"Put your left hand on my shoulder and your right in my left," he held out his hand for her and when she placed her hand on his shoulder, he wrapped his arm around her, placing his hand gently on her back. "Excellent, now step back with your right foot, then step to the left," Sherlock moved with her as she did as he instructed. "Feet together," Molly moved her left foot back as Sherlock did the same and tripped over him. Sherlock tightened his grip until Molly regained her balance,
"S-sorry," she gasped, turning an interesting shade of pink.
"It's fine, next time step with your right," Sherlock was a little embarrassed, he had forgotten to tell her which foot. "Let's try again, shall we?" Molly nodded and readjusted her grip on his hand. "Back, left, right," Sherlock reminded her as he led her through the steps again, this time more smoothly. They continued with the three steps until Sherlock was satisfied that Molly wasn't going to step or fall on him. "Now do that again, then switch feet," he was amused to note that Molly looked incredibly nervous, far more than she really should have been. He didn't know that Molly was trying not to think about how wonderful it felt to be able to feel his muscles moving beneath his thin linen shirt, how the top three buttons of his shirt were undone, the tiniest glimpse of his collar bone showing through. She was trying not to think about his penetrating gaze or how he smelled faintly of clover and cut grass. Sherlock didn't know that she was desperately trying not to think about his hand, placed slightly lower on her back than it needed to be, or how gently he was holding her hand. Sherlock just noticed that her pulse was elevated and that her hands were trembling ever so slightly.
They began to repeat the steps again, slowly until Molly got the hang of it, then more quickly, eventually in time to the music. "You learn quickly," Sherlock remarked, pleased that she wasn't falling all over the place. Molly didn't reply, she couldn't really, she was concentrating too hard on the steps and not making herself look stupid. Much to Molly's dismay, the tune was soon over. Sherlock wasn't pleased either. He hadn't danced in ages and he didn't want to stop. He released Molly and stepped back.
"Is that it then Sherlock?" She asked, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice.
"Of course not," Sherlock replied, seeing that she was just as eager to continue as he was, "Molly Hooper, you have so much more to learn about dancing," he bounced back to the speakers and soon Swan Lake was playing all over.