Poison & Wine//A BBC Sherlock fanfic

Then

"Oui!" Sherlock repeated, shouting the word. He raised his arm and spun Cosette around, making her squeal as she pirouetted, the dress she was wearing flaring out around her knees. She heard Sherlock's baritone laugh in reply and soon they were dancing together, Cosette moving quite fluidly for a girl who had consumed a bit of alcohol already in the past hour. Sherlock was a little awkward but he was still able to dance to the beat of the music, stumbling every now and again due to the alcohol in his blood. Cosette couldn't help but watch as he danced, his legs looking longer than usual and much more defined in his new tight jeans he had only brought a few days ago. There was no denying that Sherlock was a great dancer, even while drunk. He moved easily with the music, only making a few minor mistakes as he danced. Cosette took in his arms, clad in his letterman jacket, and she imagined the lean muscles that hid underneath. Without a word she leaned in closely, running her hands up his chest before reaching under and sliding his jacket off.

"Good decision," he told her as she tied his jacket around his waist. "I was feeling a little hot."

"You look eet," Cosette replied, looking up at him with a grin. He stared down at her for a moment, trying to decode what she had just said. In the end, though, he just gave up and grinned back at her. They continued to dance, Cosette glad that Sherlock was wearing a t-shirt. Because of that she could finally see his pale arms, lean and strong and bright in the darkness. She looked up at his face and gasped, her heart fluttering in her chest almost painfully. Shadows danced across his face, battling with the flashing lights and making his cheekbones look sharper or his eyes more blue. He was like a god, cut from marble and ice and placed before her like a tempting desert she knew- deep down- that she didn't have a chance with.

"You've stopped dancing!" Sherlock remarked, noticing how still Cosette had become. His voice surprised Cosette out of her daydream and she smiled.

"Sorry, I was-" she began, but it seemed that Sherlock didn't care what her answer was. He took hold of her arms and pulled her close, making her body sway in time with the music.

"I will help you, you've obviously forgotten how to dance," he told her, making her laugh.

"Yes, I guess I 'ave forgotten. Eet must be all ze alcohol," she answered, earning a nod from Sherlock.

"You're a bit of a lightweight, aren't you?"

"Me?!" Cosette gaped, staring up at him before erupting into a peal of giggles. "Oh, mon Dieu, Sherlock, you really are something, hmm? Come on, zen. Let us see who ze real lightweight ees."

With an elfin grin she led Sherlock away from the dance floor, hurrying towards the first table she could find. A game of beer pong had just finished up and the loser was keeled over, looking extremely pale and ready to be sick. As a friend led him away Cosette threw up her hand.

"Can my friend and I do the next game?" She asked a man who seemed to be running this table. He looked at her before looking up at Sherlock, having to do a double take at seeing the usually antisocial man at a party.

"S-Sure!" he told her, before shouting out, "Oi! Come look at this you lot! Seems like Holmes wants to have a little fun!"

There was a surge as people crowded around to watch the two friends battle it off. The man in charge filled up the new cups, putting them in order at each end, before handing a ping pong ball to Cosette.

"Ladies first," he grinned, eyes flickering towards Sherlock who stood at the other end of the table, eyes narrowed towards her. Cosette smiled crookedly, her golden eyes meeting Sherlock's.

"Now let's see who ze real lightweight ees," she challenged, before bouncing the ball off the table and watching it arc towards Sherlock's drinks.

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