A/N: Last chapter, guys! I'm so sorry for the hiatus, and thank you SO much for all of your kind and supporting reviews! It's a short fic, I know, but I had *so* much fun writing it. I hope you have just as much fun reading! *Blows a kiss*

"You can't be serious!" Sherlock pouts. John sighs, and stands on tip-toe to adjust the taller man's tie. "John, I don't even like wearing ties!"

"We made a deal, Sherlock," he warns. "And you are sticking to it. Your experiment can wait for one night."

"Can it?" Sherlock challenges.

"It can. Now if you would just stand still, I'll have your tie fixed!"

"Why do I have to wear a tie?"

"Because it looks nice. So just stop being a git, and cooperate." Sherlock huffs.

"Fine. I'll go to the wedding dance," he replies. "But I don't have to like it."

Much to John's surprise (and probably Sherlock's anguish), Greg Lestrade is sitting at a table with a couple of John's old friends when he and Sherlock walk into the dance. Greg stands up to greet John and Sherlock with a warm slap on the shoulder, and invites them to sit down.

"He's drunk already," Sherlock notes quietly to John. "Reddening face, the smell of-"

John shushes him. "Be polite, Sherlock." He and Sherlock each pull out a chair and sit down, John still adjusting to the loud music, and Sherlock looking like he's in for an all-night sulk.

"I'm surprised he showed up!" Greg beams.

"Well, we made a bit of a deal," John says. "And this is Sherlock's end of it!"

Sherlock rolls his eyes. Greg stands up and walks around the table, and crouches down to whisper into John's ear.

"I hope you're thinking what I'm thinking," he says. He looks up at Sherlock, and then back at John with a sinister grin. "I say we get him having fun, with a little help from Captain Morgan!"

John smiles, resisting the urge to rub his hands together like a true evil mastermind. Tonight is going to be fun.

Sherlock Holmes is dancing.

Dancing!

John and Greg lean back in their chairs, amused. Greg fishes his phone out of his trousers pocket and begins to film Sherlock from a distance. Sherlock is trying, and utterly failing, at trying to keep up with everybody else, as "Thriller" blares over the speakers. John feels himself breaking into a grin, and soon, he's smiling so hard, he wonders when his face will split in two. He glaces down at the four empty plastic cups around Sherlock's spot at the table, and wonders if maybe he and Greg had given Sherlock a bit too much...

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen!" One of the DJs shouts into his microphone. "We're gonna play a song that everybody knows! Get on out to the dance floor and let's go!" He gives the other DJ a grin, and John bursts into laughter. The Macarena starts up, and he finds himself standing up and taking Greg by the wrist.

"Let's go watch Sherlock up close," John says. "And maybe dance along with him!" Greg hesitates at first, but then reluctantly nods.

Dale a tu cuerpo alegria Macarena

Que tu cuerpo es pa' darle alegria y cosa buena...

John dance-walks across the floor in search of Sherlock, and finds him right away, the man's long legs bobbing awkwardly in and out of time with the music, his arms waving and flailing as he tries to dance. His long, black curls bounce along with the song, and he shouts out the lyrics, nearly drowned out by Greg's laughter.

"I didn't know you knew the lyrics!" John exclaims. Sherlock looks at him with a crooked smile.

"I don't!" he replies. "That's the beauty of it! You just scream out whatever comes to mind, and everyone thinks you know the words!" John snorts. He can't argue with that logic.

"Remember how to do the Macarena?" John asks.

"I remember most of it."

"Good!" John looks over at Greg, who is more than likely taking another video. "Let's do this, then!"

After a few seconds, Sherlock starts to imitate John's moves until he is finally in time with the rest of the dancers. John smiles as his favourite part of the dance comes up.

Dale a tu cuerpo alegria Macarena

Que tu cuerpo es pa' darle alegria y cosa buena

Dale a tu cuerpo alegria, Macarena

"You've got to shake your hips at this part," John tells Sherlock.

Hey, Macarena! Sherlock swivels his hips with his hands held over his head, and claps enthusiastically. "John! Did I just shake my booty?" he asks with a wink. John bursts into laughter at Sherlock's question.

"Yes, Sherlock," he says, nodding. "you did. Good job!"

Back at the table, Sherlock downs his fifth drink, and pulls a face when he swallows.

"John," he says, sounding like he's in deep thought. "You've taught me how to dance. But I haven't returned the favour yet."

"No?"

"No, I haven't. John, when the right music comes on, I'm going to teach you something!" he smiles.

"Yeah, okay Sherlock..."

Almost as if the DJs had been listening to the conversation, the music changes from a slow, romantic tune to a fast, bouncy melody. It reminds John of Spanish flamenco music, but he's not quite sure if he can put a finger on just what genre it is. At the start of the song, most of the couples leave the floor and return to their tables, while a few brave pairs remain. Sherlock slams a hand down on the table, jumps up with a start, and grabs John by the hand.

"Perfect!" he says excitedly. He pulls John along behind him, and then pulls him in close, placing one hand on the small of his back and interlocking their fingers with the other. John can feel his face warming up. This is going to be a bit not good...

"Um, Sherlock? What are we doing?" Sherlock chuckles, and brings his face close to John's.

"I'm going to teach you how to Salsaaaah," he replies with a shimmy of his hips. "It's okay, I'll lead!" John's face grows from warm to burning. What is he getting himself into?

Much to his surprise, Sherlock actually knows how to Salsa. He takes a dramatic step forward, while John steps back awkwardly. After a few clumsy moments, John is finally able to keep up with Sherlock, and he even manages to complete a couple of spins without losing his balance and falling over. A few steps here, a trip or two there, and Sherlock spins John again, this time pulling him right up close to his chest. He looks up into Sherlock's face, and the taller man quirks an eyebrow.

"You're doing well, John," he says, his deep voice rumbling. "Very well..." He squeezes John's hand tightly.

"Sherlock, people are watching," John says, looking around uneasily. It's true. The other couples on the floor have since stopped dancing, and are watching the two with amused expressions.

"All the better," Sherlock replies. "The song's almost over, so when I tell you to dip me, dip me."

"But you're the one leading!"

"Doesn't matter."

"Dip you, though?!"

"Yes, John..." he pauses. "Okay, NOW!"

Instantly, John moves his hand from Sherlock's shoulder to his lower back, and tips him nearly over. Sherlock feels light as paper in John's arms, much to John's relief. Sherlock tips his head back and closes his eyes, his curls bobbing as he does so. He extends a long leg in front of him, and wraps the other one around John.

John has never recieved so much applause in his life before this moment. Sherlock stands back up, and the cheering grows louder. John isn't sure if he should be feeling proud, or if he wants the floor to open up and eat him right now...

"I think that went rather well," Sherlock says into John's ear. "Considering how inexperienced to this kind of dance you are!"

"Uh, heh," is all John can manage. He looks around in the general area of their table. "Um, where's Greg?"

"Yoo-hoo!" John turns around, startled at Greg's presence behind them. He clicks a button on his phone.

Oh God, John thinks. Greg's taken another video.