Author's Note: I was asked to show the dance. Please enjoy this new chapter. To view Molly's dress, go to the Harrods website and search for 17053737
Chapter 4: Trip the Light Fantastic
"Sorry," Molly muttered, blushing deeply. That was number three – three times she'd stepped on his toes.
Sherlock's smile widened. "Don't apologize. You're doing splendidly."
Molly gathered her courage anew and they continued to waltz in silence for a few more minutes. She couldn't decide which felt warmer – his right hand pressing hers or his left arm firm around her waist, fingers splayed between her shoulder blades, keeping her flush with his body. Molly had never been ballroom dancing before, and it amazed her how much he communicated through his arms and hands about where he wanted her to go, how he wanted her to move. Left, right, forward, backward. A twirl here, a spin there. She'd been very worried about being too clumsy, but all she had to do was relax and hold on as he guided her expertly around the floor. The occasional misstep notwithstanding.
"You look exquisite tonight, Molly," Sherlock said yet again.
She really did look gorgeous in the shimmering midnight blue Talbot Runhof, which perfectly hugged her figure and set off her fair skin and auburn locks. Molly sent a silent 'thank you' to Mycroft. Since she hadn't had to go frantically hunting for a dress, she'd been able to take time getting ready. Her hair was glossy and curled, with naturalistic makeup to highlight her cheeks and eyes and lips.
"Thanks. You look very smart as well, Sherlock," Molly replied quietly, grinning back shyly. Sinful was more like it! Sherlock was dressed in a slim tailored black suit, with crisp white shirt and black tie. Classic. He'd even gotten his unruly hair under some semblance of control, which brought all kinds of wicked thoughts to mind about running her fingers through it to mess it up again. Looking at him, touching him, holding him was wreaking havoc with her insides, melting them all to goo.
The music changed and they glided along to the new tempo in silence for a few more minutes.
Kiss her, you dolt! said John's voice in his head. That seemed like excellent advice, so Sherlock brought them to a standstill in the middle of the dance floor. He tightened his hold on Molly and her eyes grew huge. He brought one hand up to cup the ladle of her jaw and angled her head just so. Then a warm, soft press of flesh, with lips slightly parted and just a hint of tongue. Sherlock's internal chronometer cut off the instant their lip met, so he couldn't say how long the kiss lasted, but it seemed to him it lasted the perfect amount of time, and yet not long enough. He leaned in to kiss her again, but Molly turned her head and laid it on his shoulder. She sighed contentedly.
They resumed dancing, not following any pattern but rather gently swaying back and forth in time to the music.
"Thank you for tonight, Molly," Sherlock murmured and she felt the deep rumble of his chest. "I love dancing."
"Sherlock, what is this? What's happening between us?"
"I believe this is what's known as dating. But you're the expert, what do you think?"
Molly lifted her head and looked him in the eye. "I... I think I could get use to this," she said sweetly and smiled. Sherlock's stomach did a flip-flop.
Sherlock nodded. "Right. Then that's settled."
This time she kissed him, and it wasn't quite as innocent as the one which had preceded. Then the music flowed around them, and, now both surefooted, they danced late into the night.