The time 23:17 displayed on his phone and John let out a heavy sigh. "We've been at it for two hours now."

"That's because you're awful at this," Sherlock retorted. He poised again and continued to play the violin. John's feet were starting to ache as he continued swinging around with the mop, only seconds before he almost tripped.

"No, no, no, John apart from being an admirer and a companion as well as a helper on our trips, also to add a writer whom people deem excellent, is there anything else that you can do!? Have you never danced?" Sherlock scorned, humphing. "The violin is graceful and you are not."

John rolled his eyes. "An army doctor, you forgot the army doctor part."

Sherlock seemed on the brink to explode. "Tomorrow's the wedding and you can't get the waltz right, this is nerve-breaking!"

John laughed at Sherlock's distress, he seemed too stressed about the wedding lately. He plopped down on the sofa. "Why are you so worried?"

Sherlock scoffed and put away his violin. "Because you dance awfully, even I can dance better than that, and I've never danced in public in my life."

John arched an eyebrow. "In public? and if your'e so bloody good, why don't you show me then."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed and lit up like they did when he was handed a challenge. He put away his violin and straightened up, holding his hand out. "Okay then, come on."

John grabbed his hand and let himself be pulled up. Sherlock placed his hands around his waist, and John raised an eyebrow. "I'm supposed to be the boy, you're Mary."

Sherlock's mouth curled sourly, and John wondered if that was a small blush on his cheeks. "Fine, now pay attention, Watson."

He placed his hand on John's shoulder and let him in turn place his hand on his hip. Sherlock twirled them around gracefully and John was actually impressed by his good dancing. He tried to follow his pace, counting the steps in his head. 1,2,3-1,2,3-1,2,3,4

"Not a fourth step!" Sherlock said as he moved them slowly around the living room. John grimaced. "Sorry, I always mix u-"

The door opened. "What's all the ruckus, dears? I thought Sherlock was going on about his usual violin but then I heard arguing, and oh-" Mrs. Hudson smirked, clapping her hands together. "Oh how marvelous."

John could almost feel the embarrassment coming off in waves from Sherlock, who slowly pulled his hands away. He cleared his throat. "I was just teaching John how to waltz, since he seems completely unable to learn the steps. Was there something you wanted, Mrs. Hudson?"

Mrs. Hudson shook her head, still looking at the boys. "No, just keep your voices down. Are you two going to dance at the wedding?"

Before John had the chance to reply, Sherlock was at the door. "No, goodnight, Mrs. Hudson." He slammed the door in her face and spun around. "Now where were we? Let's get this over with, John. Mary will be very disappointed if you trip over her dress and indeed make a fool of yourself. Also, my reputation will be scarred."

John cracked a smile. "One last round, and if I don't get this one, we give up. It's bloody late, and I need some sleep."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "No sleep, not before I check you out of this. You need to be exceptional for tomorrow's wedding." He straightened his suit and got into position again.

"How did you learn how to dance?" John asked as he tried to keep up with him. The hardest part was that Sherlock had long paces and he was taller than him.

Sherlock shrugged dismissively. "Just did."

John looked at him suspiciously and Sherlock raised an eyebrow down at him, his curls bouncing off his head as they moved. "You're suddenly doing exceptionally. The trick is to keep your subconscious mind to dance, while your conscious mind is busy talking."

John smiled as he counted the steps in his head. "I am doing good."

Sherlock's smile dropped. "And now you stepped four again. For the sake of my sanity, your pride and Mary's embarrassment, do keep yourself occupied while you dance, and do not count the steps."

"Okay, okay, I got it," John said as he tried to move them, tried to take the upper hand. He tried swishing them around as graceful as Sherlock had done it, but he kept his gaze on the window. He focused on the window hard, narrowed his eyes and tried to keep himself busy by looking at the opposite buildings window.

"What are you doing? You look like you're in the need to pass a stool," Sherlock said in confusion to John's grimace-like face.

"I what?" John asked, attention snapped back to the man.

"You look like you have constipation," Sherlock deadpanned. He pulled away and kicked the mop away. "Tomorrow morning, early. Let's see if we can perfect this then."

He shook his head as he turned around. "Get some sleep John, you certainly need it."

"Not everyone has bee a ballerina when they were little," John said, just taking the leap. Seemed like it was wrong as Sherlock turned around with an amused smile. "Good luck deducing, but I don't think you're ever going to find out how I learned the waltz. If you need the case of "How Holmes learnt to dance" you should go to this consulting detective I know, he can probably deduct the right thing. Other than me-him, there's no one in the world. Unless he refuses to help you, then there's actually no one in the world."

"Oh piss off, you arrogant ballerina," John said and Sherlock grinned. "Nope, not a ballerina."

"Besides, I wouldn't name it that!" John yelled after him as Sherlock left to go sleep. "I would name it "Sherlock's dancing secrets!"