Author's Note: Ok, so I had this scene in my head since forever and I had no idea where to put it so I cheated and made it a fluffy flashback. There. It's out of my system
Somewhere outside London, Great Britain
2 years ago
Moriarty skipped through the front door, spinning on his heels as he shut it behind him. Everything was great. Everything was falling into place. He was positively giddy. He felt like music. As he strode down the hall he shuffled through his iPod until he found the right song. He then played it through the Bluetooth speakers built into his house. He rocked his hips to the intro and danced toward the study where he posed dramatically in the doorway.
Samantha, from where she sat at the computer, glanced up at him with one eyebrow raised.
"What has gotten into you?" she said tentatively. Her olive green eyes scanned him with suspicion.
"It's a beautiful day," he sang, "Everything is perfection." He shot out one hand. "Come dance with me."
Samantha gave an awkward laugh and said, "I still have work to do."
"Take the rest of the day off. That's an order."
Samantha threw her hands up in defeat and stood from her chair.
"Why aren't you dancing?" Moriarty remarked accusingly, swaying to the music.
"I don't really know this song."
Moriarty sputtered.
"How do you not know David Bowie?" he cried, aghast. "Have you been living under a rock?"
She gave a guilty shrug.
"I guess I'm just not that into pop music," she said.
That did it. Moriarty dropped his arms and looked at her as if she had just insulted his ancestors.
"Pop - Pop music?" he uttered in disgust, "This is classic rock. How dare you?"
Samantha shrugged again, her mouth twisted up in an apologetic smile.
"Come here," he said, grabbing her by the hand, "Let me educate you."
She laughed as he spun her toward him, a sound that both surprised and delighted him. She didn't laugh often, he noticed. He danced behind her, holding her hands with her arms criss-crossed around her.
"You like me, and I like it all," he sang to the lyrics, "We like dancing and we look divine."
"You're a terrible singer," Samantha commented.
"Shut up!" he said and he spun her again to face him. She looked directly at him, her eyes playful.
"So what has you in such a good mood?" she purred as she began to pop her hips to the beat.
The smile he hadn't noticed he was wearing waned slightly. He didn't particularly want to talk about work right now. More so, he didn't want to associate Samantha with work. At least not now. Not in this moment.
"I'd only bore you," he ushered.
"Worth a dance though?" she shrugged.
He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her closer.
"You and I have been working very hard these days," he said, "I think we deserve a dance."
"Fair enough," she replied, reaching up to rest her arms around his neck, "The music's not bad."
"You're really trying to wind me up, aren't you?"
"Is it working?"
"A little."
She laughed again, and as she flashed him a brilliant grin he knew with absolute certainty that she was going to ruin him. But in this moment, with her hips between his hands and her forehead touching his, part of him was ok with this.
