"Which makes you the subjective equivalent of probably more like twelve in terms of time available for useful stuff," she says, nodding, "and therefore it is not impressive at all that you should have such a skillset. I see now."

He laughs.

There is the brick place with Jarvis in! Hello, Jarvis-brick-place. Bella and Sherlock are going to fight in you now.

What fun.

"Dancing before or after nibbles?" inquires Juliet. "...I would like nibbles to be unsupervised when they happen, Jarvis."

"Before, I think," says Sherlock.

"So noted," says Jarvis.

Juliet manages a fairly able twirl based solely on her ability to move like a Slayer, but it's clear she has no dance training. "So," she says. "What do I do?" And she sidles up to Sherlock and loops her arms around his neck. "Teach me teach me."

He's easy to follow; she's pretty used to reading him after all the sparring, and now she's just trying to mirror, not counter. Her autopilot is no help, but she's still graceful and quick and soon they're whirling around the room and she's giggling.

"You are a delight," Sherlock proclaims.

She kisses him. "You're delightful," she replies, "and this is fun!"

"Dessert?" she suggests shyly.

The responding sound can only be described as a whimper. Her hands find where his are clasped around her and clench over them, although this time she retains enough presence of mind not to be hurtful. And she trembles.

She is such a tasty dessert. Also, cuddly. Cuddly and warm.

The noises she makes are much as before, whines and bits of "Sherlock" and profanity, but today, the writhing-as-though-itchy part comes just - a little - later - when it is almost time to stop.

"Nnnng?" pants Juliet, opening her eyes.

"Sorry, love," he says. "Delicious as you are, I think that's enough for now."

"I believe there are alternate solutions to this problem," says Sherlock.