BalletLock

Chapter 3

       "What on earth have you been doing?"  John splutterd.

         Since it was quite a warm day and Sherlock was already very hot and sweaty from dance, he jad been forced to take off his heavy long coat on the way home. He hadn't expected to find John sitting on the stars to his flat eating a basket of chips. Sherlock had no idea how to respond. His t shirt was completly soaked and clung to his torso, and his dance shoes were hanging from the strap on his new "dance bag."

       "Your wearing pants that have a draw string!" John exclaimed in disbelief. And then he saw the shoes. He let out a sound that was something between a gasp, a shout, and a laugh. Thrusting aside his snack, John jumped to his feet and grabbed the pair of dance  shoes.

       "Been training for the ballet have you, Holmes?"

       "It was just a class" Sherlock mumbled as he brushed past John and darted up the stairs.

       Laughing heartily, John folowed him into the apparrment.

       "Come on then, show me one of your moooves" he draweled, adding a little swoosh of the hips to emphisize the comical element of the occasion. Although Sherlock was quite miffed at John for mocking his new hobby, he couldnt help but to feel temted at showing his best friend a step or two. So with a sigh, sherlock pushed the chairs in the living room to the side. He stood in the center of the space and stared at the floor, debating what to demonstrate. Then he cleared his throat and looked up at John who still wore an amused expression. At least it makes John smile, Sherlock thought. Lately John had been going through some rough patches in his relationship with his wife Mary, and he often appeared to be half dead from lack of sleep and emotional stress.

       Sherlock began by taking to elongated walking steps, in order to establish a prescence, and then tried some quick but big jumps. He then did a few balancés and pas de bourrés, using his arms, upper body, and head to create tone and expression. The tall stiff man in the long coat that John was used to had now transformed himself into a firy creature filled with movement and life.

        When Sherlock finished, John's expression turned from humorous to bewildered. His lips hung apart and his already huge eyes had widened even more.

       "You're--"

       "Ammatureish, I know. It was my it was my first class."

       "No! Sherlock! That was unbelievable! I mean, that couldn't have been your first class!"

       "Well, I've sort of been...............

practicing. Here."

       Sherlocks cheeks were bright red, but John was unable to tell wether they were from the exercise or John's compliment.

       "I-er should go have a shower" Sherlock said awkwardly before darting up the stairs.

       "Right. Yea."

       He turned awkwardly and absent mindeldy wandered into the kitchen, opening rhe fridge and staring at its contents with a glazed expression. He couldnt get the image of Sherlock's impossibly gracefull body twisting and spinning out of his head.