Beauty and the High-Functioning Sociopath {#PFCC2k16}

Just One Dance

Sherlock's glass shattered on the ground. Alex jumped and Sherlock looked down. He could care less about the spilled wine. There was a murderer here.

"Oh, sorry, I..." Sherlock's voice trailed off.

"Another glass, sir?" A waiter asked.

"Thank you, yes!" Sherlock said, taking the glass. "Thank you."

"Something is going to happen. Right here." Mycroft said in his mind palace.

"Now, where were we?" Sherlock asked.

"Could be any second." Mycroft said. "You have control of the room."

"Ah, yes, raising glasses and standing up." Sherlock said. "Very good, thank you."

"Don't lose it." Mycroft warned.

"And down again." Sherlock said, lowering his hands. The guests all sat down. "Ladies and gentlmen, people tell you not to milk a good speech. Get off early, leave them laughing. Wise advice I'll certainly try to bear in mind but now Part Two!" Sherlock lept over the table. Alex had to move to the side so Sherlock didn't kick her. "Part Two is more action based. I'm gonna walk around, shake things up a bit. Who'd go to a wedding? That's the question. Who would bother to go any lengths to get themselves to a wedding? Well, everyone. Weddings are great! Love a wedding."

"What's he doing?" Mary asked.

"Something's wrong." John said.

"There's going to be a murder or something." Alex said.

"And John's great too! I haven't said that enough, I've barely scratched the surface. I could go on all night about the depth and complexity of his...jumpers and he can cook. Does a thing...with peas...once. Might not be peas. Might not be him. But he's got a great singing voice or somebody does..." Sherlock said. He was beginning to get frustrated. "Too many, too many, too many, too many! Sorry, too many jokes about John! Now, uh..."

"Criminal intent." Mycroft said.

"Where was I?" Sherlock asked.

"Extraordinary lengths." Mycroft said.

"Speech! Speech. Let's talk about..." Sherlock's voice trailed off.

"Which is all suggestive of..." Mycroft said.

"Murder." Sherlock said. "Sorry, did I say murder? I meant to say marriage. But, you know, they're quite the similar procedures when you think about it, the participants tend to know each other and it's over when one of them's dead. In fairness, murder is a lot quicker though. Alex! You said you wanted deductions, so here you go! This man! His girlfriend's wearing brand-new, uncomfortable underwear!" Sherlock sent a text behind his back. "She also hasn't bothered to pick this thread off the top of his jacket or point out the grease smudge on the back of his neck. Currently, he's going home alone. Also, he's a comics and sci-fi geek. Jeff, the gents. The loos now, please." Sherlock said, looking at Lestrade.

"Greg." Lestrade corrected.

"The loos now please." Sherlock said.

"Why?" Lestrade asked.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe it's your turn." Sherlock growled, nodding towards the hall. Lestrade got the text that Sherlock had sent him and looked at it.

Lock this place down.

"Yeah, actually, now that you mention it." Lestrade said. He got up and went into the hall.

"Sherlock, any chance of an end date for this speech?" Johna asked. "Gotta cut the cake."

"Oh! Ladies and gentlemen, can't stand it when I finally get the chance to speak for once, Vatican Cameos." Sherlock said, glancing in John and Alex's direction.