Sherliam oneshots :)

A capturing dance

A mysterious masquerade ball, hosted by a dashing unknown young man. The ball only for the noblest of them all, not for those peasants, the invitation letter said.

One of the letters somehow ended in the hands of a certain detective. A detective that saw the connection between the deaths of other noble people. He saw the chance.

Soon enough Sherlock had bought himself a rather expensive suit to wear to the ball. Perfect for blending in.

"Oh? And you have the money to buy fancy suits but not pay your rent, huh?" Ms. Hudson stopped Sherlock as he was leaving the house.
"But Ms. Hudson, this might be my chance to find love!" Sherlock responded over dramatically.
"So you're just planning on cheating on that math professor who comes by every now and then?" Ms. Hudson asked, raising her other eyebrow.
"We're not together!" Sherlock protested but the corners of his lips turned to a hopeful grin.
"Yet", Ms. Hudson added.

Sherlock just scoffed as a response before leaving the house to attend the ball.

The manor was beautiful. It's decorative lights illuminated the dark sky in shiny gold.

The staff of the manor were greeting guests right at the gate and handing them masks. A total of five different masks to pick from. It was a fancy ball after all, the mask had to fit the outfit.

The interior of the manor lived up to expectations just as well as the beautiful gardens of it. Everything was decorated on point, keeping the mysterious theme of the masquerade on.

Soon enough, the ballroom was filled with excited people. Most had already found themselves someone to dance with. Curious gazes were thrown across the ballroom, not a single person was left unobserved.

But out of all gazes, Sherlock's gaze was the one winning the trophy of the most observant one. As always.

Out of all the people here, who could be the murderer? The Lord Of Crime? Who? What tiny detail was he missing? Maybe it was the host? Or was that too obvious? Maybe someone who knew the host and suggested the idea to not be in the light because of the title of host? Or may-

Sherlock was snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed someone that piqued his interest. And it was better for blending in if he wasn't just standing there, giving dazing smiles to people who walked past.

"Good evening. May I interest you in a dance?" Sherlock asked as he gave a polite bow to the beautiful individual.

Sherlock looked up at the most stunning man he had ever met, his ocean like blue eyes staring in the crimson eyes of William.

No matter how much of a covering mask, the best disguise you'd ever see, a new voice, a whole new body, those two would recognize each other without a second of doubt.

William placed his hand in Sherlock's, accepting the request to dance.

Sherlock led the dance with grace. They were like floating above the dance floor. Above everyone else. Above all problems. Above all responsibilities.

Every spin was like a cool breeze during a hot summer day, William leaning against Sherlock's hand on his back, leaning his head back, making his hair flow beautifully.

"You brought your own mask", William noted as the two danced through the crowds of people.
"Count for every possibility", Sherlock responded, his gaze glued to William's capturing eyes.

Sherlock's mask was basically a perfect copy of the ones given at the masquerade, only someone who was staring so intensively at Sherlock's face as William was would notice a small detail like that.