─ tiny dancer, s.h.

ii. Swan Lake.

3rd Person

Arriving at the crime scene, Sherlock jumped out of the cab as soon as it stopped and left John to pay the cabbie, as usual. The cab shortly drove away, leaving John to make his way over to the dance studio, Sherlock having already gone inside and most likely started without him. He opened the main door, and walked inside. Once in there, John took a look at his surroundings and realized that you must need some money to be able to dance here. In the cab on the way over, he had searched up the studio, and it was home to some of the best dancers in London, including Ballet, contemporary, and modern dance.

While John was making his own little deductions, Sherlock was crouched in front of the body that Lestrade had led him to, after greeting him at the door. Of course, he already knew all about this dance studio, seen as he had a hidden love for dancing.

"Lydia Moreover, 28-years-old, a jazz dancer. Late last night, she was working, and someone came in and slit her throat. No security footage, no DNA, no fingerprints, nothing. Well, nothing we can find, anyway." Lestrade informed him. "We haven't done a background check yet, so we don't know who has any odd connections to her."

Sherlock gave a hum of reply, and continued to examine the body that was led on the floor, face down, with a massive pool of blood just above her head. He noticed that John had walked in just a minute ago, so decided to acknowledge his presence. "John, did you notice anything?" He asked before adding, "Anything of importance?"

"Yes, actually. You have to be at least a little bit rich to practice at this place, so maybe she had enemies, who wanted money?"

"Good. That's good."

"You're being sarcastic, aren't you? I'm only asking because, well, I can never tell whether you're being serious or not."

"No, you actually did some good work today, John. Back to what you said, it makes sense that she would be rich, or at least her family, then she inherits the money. Based on the items in her bag, her family has money, and she lives off them. She has lots of very expensive items, even down to the hand sanitizer, and she wouldn't spend her hard earned money on something so petty. I think she may have been entitled, gotten on someone's wrong side, and ended up here, dead." Sherlock blurted out in a rush.

Lestrade nodded before walking over to the door. "Okay, well if you're finished here, i'll go back to the station and get up history records and get them over to you. Call me if you find anything useful."

Sherlock nodded and John tipped his head towards the Detective Inspector. The boys decided that it would be good to also make their way out, and to come back the next day to interview other people who were also working the night of the murder. They started walking down the hall on the second floor, when Sherlock abruptly stopped in his tracks. This caught John's attention, and he too stopped and walked back over to the detective. "Sherlock? Everything alright?" He questioned. When he didn't answer, John tried again. "Hello! Earth to Sherlock?"

What John didn't know, was what had caught Sherlock's eye. Or rather, who.  He could hear the faint sound of Swan Lake by Tchaikovsky blasting through the speaks of the room he was looking into, so he thought that maybe he stopped to admire the music. But, inside that room, and evidently, what had caught Sherlock's attention, was a woman, ballet dancing. Effortlessly. Sherlock was completely mesmerized by her, causing him to block out the sound of John's voice, ignoring him. 

This feeling was new to him, foreign, even. He'd never felt like this before, and he didn't even know what he was feeling. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but if he had to take a guess, he would probably say affection. He shuddered slightly at the thought, but he still stayed emotionless on the outside, causing John to still be oblivious as to what was going on. Although, he did catch a glance at what Sherlock seemed to be looking at, and as soon as he did, Sherlock dragged him away from the window in the door so he couldn't make any assumptions, coming back to his senses, just about.

But of course, John had seen enough. And even though he couldn't quite believe it, what he saw in front of him was real. Sherlock had been distracted by a woman. Even in the middle of a case. The only time a woman had caught his attention was The Woman, and that was years ago. Of course, Janine doesn't count, because that was all planned. And as far and himself and Missus Hudson knew, Sherlock hadn't had any girlfriends prior to them knowing him.

So, it came as a shock when it looked like a girl that hadn't even tried, had caught his attention. And if he knew Sherlock, he would take his chance to speak to her tomorrow, being his usual cold self. Or maybe he wouldn't be. Maybe she would soften him up a bit. But John thought that would be very unlikely, because nobody could do that. Nobody. He was the only one who had gotten even close to doing that. Him and Mary, that is. But they didn't tend to speak about her too much recently.

Before they could leave, they were stopped by a voice. Donovan. Clearly she decided to ignore Greg's warnings, because she didn't hold back any of the insults. "Aww, pining over a girl now? Let's hope she doesn't become the next subject to your torture, i'd feel sorry for her if she had to listen to a monster like you for hours on end with your mindless blabbering."

This time, unlike some others, he didn't deduce her, he just simply stated facts. "Aww, Donovan, are you still heartbroken enough from the time I rejected you that you feel as though you have to take it out on other people? You know, actually, while i'm here, I wanted to ask you something. As an outsider, what's your perspective on intelligence?" Donovan certainly didn't have anything to say to that, and so Sherlock strutted out of the building with his head held high.

Once they were back at the flat, John decided that it would be a good idea to talk to Sherlock about what happened at the dance studio. Of course, he would be discreet about it, but he wanted to try and get some information out of him. Although knowing that Sherlock would probably figure him out in mere minutes, he thought it was worth a try. John also knew that even if Sherlock did feel something that could possibly be close to what he felt for The Woman, he wouldn't know what it was. Because that's how Sherlock is in these situations. Even though he is a genius, he is completely oblivious when it comes to 'feeling things'.