There is nothing quite like a man who can dance, and if that man just happens to be Sherlock...
I will specify the song played in the story, but to you folks with slow internet etc. the song I will be using is 'A cool cat in Town' by Tape five. Listen to it, it really will add to the story.
I haven't written in ages, I would love to hear what you think. If people like it I might write another chapter.
I walked in.
Bright lights and white walls and a smooth, black floor greeted me. Mirrors lined the side wall and at the back of the dance studio stood a group of people chatting. With a determined sigh I headed over to the group. A man, short and thin, with wire glasses and an affable rodent like face, came up to me and stuck out his hand.
" Ah a new face! How nice to see you."
I smiled tightly. "Thank you, er... who should I see to sign in?"
" Oh you'll be wanting the man over there for that, impossible to miss."
I headed in the direction indicated. Slightly separate from everyone else stood a man with his leg slung carelessly on the bar. I coughed slightly to announce myself. The man lifted his leg off the bar, setting it gently back on the ground and, in the same move, turned to face me. There was something arch about him, and something decidedly aristocratic.
"Good evening, I would like to join your classes... obviously..." Something about his piercing eyes made me feel stupid for stating the obvious. He seemed rather amused by my annoyance at myself. "Obviously." He agreed, " obviously you're also just home from the war in... Afghanistan or Iraq?"
"... Afghanistan. Wait, how did you-"
" Classes run every Saturday, if you don't turn up you'll just have to catch up the next week and I do not take requests in the choice of music. Lets begin shall we?" He was halfway across the room before I had a chance to react.
" So that's it? You don't know anything about me, nor I about you. I don't even know your name."
The odd dance instructor turned on his heel and came back to tower over me.
"You're a military man just back from Afghanistan with a psychosomatic limp, you're therapist thinks it would be beneficial for you to limber up a bit and you agreed in the hope of staving off the boredom and because of a liking of dance stemming from your high school days. That should be enough for now don't you think?" He had started heading off but turned back, " the name is Sherlock Holmes and the price of my classes is ₤ 221,- per annum."
My new instructor strode into the centre of the room, silently commanding the room.
"That went well."
I shook myself out of my dazed state. It was the man I'd met when I had first walked in. I looked at him incredulously.
"By what definition did that go well?" He smiled.
" Usually he calls you stupid and incompetent, once he actually refused to teach a man because he said he was too stupid to learn anything."
I smiled slightly, genuinely, and took a spot at the back of the room, determined to prove myself to this curious man.
Everyone's head turned towards me, apparently the Sherlock had addressed me.
" Excuse me?" I asked.
" I said, No."
" I heard you. What are you saying no to?"
" Up the front Captain."
"I prefer Doctor" Sherlock's eyes widened slightly and I smirked.
" Up the front Doctor."
I obeyed, moving to a spot indicated by Sherlock, who was messing with the CD player. Everything about him was entrancing, the way he moved, how his face caught the light, how his eyes pierced you. I'd barely known this man for five minutes and I was fascinated.
The music started, it was a Jazz number and Sherlock started dancing, I gathered we were meant to watch once before trying ourselves; And boy did I watch. He seemed to have choreographed his own cat like routine to the song ' A cool cat in town'. He moved like a hypnotist, his nondescript black T-shirt and trousers clinging to the planes of his chest and hips, revealing a slight trail of dark hair on pale skin when he moved just so.
When the song ended he divided the group down the middle, directing each half in turn. Once he thought we had the hang of it he took his place amongst the group opposite me; directly opposite me. As the music started we started the dance, I only had eyes for one supple, feline man though. As we reached a particularly tense, up-beat part of the music, the two groups came together, clawing and hissing and colliding in a beautiful 'fight'. It was then that it happened. That my fate was sealed. As Sherlock came towards me, lording majestically over me, our bodies almost touching. He was sassy and sexy. All it took was a look into his cheekily twinkling eyes, I felt my pulse speed up and my pupils blow wide open as they dilated with lust.
That was my first dance lesson. I never missed one after that.
I hope you enjoyed it, please let me know.