The posters appear almost overnight.

The funny thing is, Sherlock isn't the first one to notice it. It's John.

John stops in front of one just outside Scotland Yard's main doors, eyes widening as he takes in the information on it. Sherlock, of course, keeps walking, everything but the case unimportant.

John frowns. "Sherlock…"

Sherlock sighs impatiently. "John, the case!"

John shakes his head. "No, seriously…what is this?" He gestures to the poster in front of him.

Sherlock rolls his eyes and steps over, reading the poster. "What is…" his sentence trails off as he takes in the information on the large, brightly coloured piece of paper in front of him.

It's an advertisement for a dance competition. At Scotland Yard.

And his and John's names are on it.

"What the hell is this?"

Sherlock shoves the poster into Greg's face, eyes sparking. John is standing nearby, arms crossed in front of his chest.

Greg nods apprehensively. "Yeah, about that, I was going to…"

Sherlock cuts him off angrily. "I absolutely refuse to get up there and make a fool of myself in front of a dozen odd people with you idiots!"

He sighs. "Sherlock, it's for charity, you practically work here anyways so I didn't think you'd mind…"

"Mind?" Sherlock splutters. "Of course I mind! Do you think I want to…to…"

"To what?" says a snarky female voice. Sally Donovan appears from around the corner. "To throw those gangly limbs around for people to gawk at?"

Sherlock looks at her as his mouth falls open in shock, offended. He closes it with a snap and gives her an icy look. "Unlike some people, Donovan, I actually know how to keep control over my body."

It's Donovan's turn to splutter. "Why, I…"

Greg holds up a hand. "Save it, Sally." He turns to Sherlock as Sally stalks off. "Sherlock, it's just one time, and it's for a good cause, okay? It's just

going to be a small crowd, not a gigantic thing."

Sherlock lets out a huff of breath and turns around to pace back and forth, thinking. Finally, he turns to Greg. "It's only once, right?"

Greg nods solemnly.

"Who's participating?"

Greg sighs and begins to tick off names on his fingers. "Me, Sally, Philip…"

Sherlock cuts him off, wrinkling his nose. "Who the hell is Philip?"

Greg rolls his eyes. "Anderson, Sherlock."

Sherlock makes a little noise of disgust and closes his eyes, thinking. "Go on."

Greg continues. "Uh…George-that's Dimmock," he says, seeing Sherlock's mouth open and sensing an incoming query, "Molly, Mycroft…"

Sherlock looks outraged. "My brother?"

"How many other Mycrofts do you know?"

Sherlock sighs loudly. "Go on."

Greg thinks. "Well, then there's me, and you, and John. That's it."

John starts. "Wha-me?"

"Your name is on the poster, John, do try and keep up," Sherlock says snarkily, and he closes his eyes again.

John turns to Greg, shaking his head. "No way. Absolutely not." His voice is slightly panicky. "For God's sake, Greg…I don't even dance!"

Greg sighs. He didn't think convincing the two of them would be this difficult.

"It's just one dance, John. Just follow the little figure and you'll be fine."

John and Sherlock arrive an hour early at the auditorium where the dance competition is being held to see far more cars than they thought they'd see.

"Jesus," John says, tugging at the collar of his coat uncomfortably. "I thought Greg said this was going to be a small gathering!"

"Apparently he was mistaken," Sherlock says, lips spread in a thin line. He leads John around to the back door entrance, as there are already several

people packed near the door waiting to be let in.

Greg looks up as they walk into the small prep room at the back of the auditorium. "Hey, you two."

"Greg, you bastard, I thought you said it was going to be a small crowd," John says, glaring at him as he gestures to the door. "That mob out there definitely doesn't count!"

Greg shrugs. "So I misjudged. Apparently the idea of all of us throwing our arms about on a stage appeals to more people than I thought." He grins as he walks away, heading towards the donut table.

Sherlock sighs and pulls off his coat, throwing it over a bar near the door. He holds out his hand for John's as the doctor strips it off.

The detective straightens his black jacket and looks over at John. "Are you ready for this?"

John laughs. "No."

Sherlock grins. "Me neither."

An hour later, the chief superintendent is up on stage, ready to begin the show.

"Good evening, everyone! We're all very glad to see you tonight…"

Sherlock looks over at John from where they're sitting in the front row and grins. They're both having the same thought, he's sure.

A few moments later, after a small speech about the charity they're raising money for, he finally introduces the first competition.

"And our first match for the A bracket will be…" There's a shuffling of papers and the superintendent looks down at his schedule. "Miss Molly Hooper versus Sergeant Sally Donovan in Just Dance!"

There's a round of applause and then Molly and Sally are onstage in front of them. The setup is fairly simple, but well thought out; a telly in front of them shows them the dance they're supposed to be doing, while a projector on a shelf above it projects the dance onto the curtain behind them. The telly is right in between them, so that you can still see the dancers themselves.

Sherlock has to admit, it's been well thought out.

The dance itself is fairly basic, and neither Sherlock nor John really pays attention to what the women onstage are doing. However, it's clear after the first minute that Sally has no business mocking Sherlock's limbs when she isn't too brilliant with her own.

At the end, when Molly has won, everyone claps loudly, accompanied with a few wolf whistles from some of the men, especially, it seems, Dimmock.

He winks at Molly, and she blushes.

"They're dating."

John looks over at Sherlock. "What?"

"Molly and Dimmock."

"Oh." John nods.

The superintendent comes back out as Sally and Molly head back to their respective seats. "Well, that was quite a match, ladies!"

Sherlock rolls his eyes as the superintendent congratulates Molly. "He's a pervert."

John's eyes go wide and he looks over at Sherlock. "What?"

Sherlock jerks his eyeballs at the superintendent. "He only volunteered to do this so that he could sit backstage and watch their posteriors."

John tries desperately to turn his giggle into a manly cough.

Up on the stage, the superintendent looks down at his schedule. "And next we have Inspector George Dimmock versus Dr. John Watson in…Pound The Alarm!"

John's giggles immediately dissipate and he chokes instead.

Next to him, Greg gives him a slap on the back and a grin. "Go get 'em, tiger."