Dancing Lessons

by bringonthefeels

With John and Mary's wedding approaching faster by the minute, Sherlock and the happy couple have much planning to do. However, can the consulting detective solve the troubling case of the soldier with two left feet? Sherlock acknowledges John's inability to dance and takes the opportunity to teach him the basics. (Johnlock. Cute and fluffy)

3. Balance is Key

"Sherlock, I honestly have no idea why you're making me do this," John complained as he tiptoed around the flat with a pile of books on his head.

"Balance, John. If you do not have proper balance, you cannot even hope to succeed while dancing."

"Yeah, but-" The books tumbled to the floor and landed with a satisfying thud.

"Drat." John cursed under his breath as Sherlock smirked and picked up the books. He placed them on his head and began twirling and moving with the grace of an antelope prancing happily through the forest.

"Oh for God's sake-how do you do that?" John inquired, slightly annoyed at his former flat mate for giving even more proof that he can, indeed, do everything well.

"I love to dance," Sherlock replied. "Here." He placed the books back on John's head. "Keep your weight centered, and stay planted on your toes."

As he spoke, his hand lightly brushed against John's stomach, showing him where to concentrate all of his weight. John blushed. Why does he have to be so… so… fantastic? At everything. There's nothing he can't do. Good Lord, he thought. However, he was able to follow Sherlock's instructions in spite of his wandering mind.

Step, step, watch the loose floorboard. CRASH. John, I've told you a million times, alright, try again. Step, step, tiptoe tiptoe step, there's a table there, John. CRASH. Really? Fine, again. Step, step, step, here comes Ms. Hudson. Oh do keep going, John, she's just the landlady. Step, step, shuffle, step, now you're getting the hang of it. Step, step, tiptoe. CRASH. Obviously not. Again.

2 hours and, admittedly, several drinks later, John could finally walk a length of the flat without creating a literary avalanche. Although he was slightly miffed at Sherlock's less-than-admirable teaching methods and fairly humiliating exercises, he was grateful for the help. He was going to need it.

"I better be off, then. Got to work early over at the surgery tomorrow."

"Yes of course. Goodnight, John."

John headed to the door, but just as he was leaving, he spun around.

"Oh, and do you think you could maybe not tell Mary about this? She might… well-"

"I understand. I'll see you later, John," Sherlock interrupted.

"Yes. Good. Um, thank you. G'night!"

John left 221B Baker Street, leaving Sherlock at the window, smiling to himself. Maybe this wedding won't be as bad as I thought.