This is just a cute little fluff one-shot inspired by a comic I found :)
It had been snowing heavily all night long, and John Watson woke to find that the streets of London were hidden, buried underneath thick piles of blanketing snow. John was happy to see snow again, is always gave him a feeling of nostalgia and reminded him of his childhood. He and his sister Harry had always rushed outside excitedly whenever it snowed, pulling on their parkas and mittens as they ran and dived into the icy piles in their backyard. They would play for hours on end, making snowmen, having snowball fights and making snow angels, until eventually, their mother would make them come back inside for worry that they would catch a cold. John smiled as he remembered being wrapped in blankets and sat in front of the fireplace with a warm cup of cocoa. His reminiscing was soon interrupted as a sleepy Sherlock appeared from his room, yawning as he plodded along to his desk, wrapped only in his bed sheet. John wondered if Sherlock had ever had any experiences in the snow similar to the ones John had as a kid.
'Aren't you cold?' he asked Sherlock. Sherlock slowly turned his head to face John, who was still standing by the window.
'No.' He said gruffly. John chuckled.
'Tea?' he asked as he headed to the kitchen to make himself a cup.
'Please.' Sherlock mumbled, running his temples.
'Did you actually sleep last night?' John asked.
'Yes, much to my annoyance.'
'You need to sleep Sherlock.'
'Then why do I feel so terrible?'
'Because you haven't had enough and that little bit has made your body realise that you need more of it.' John said, in his most doctor-sounding voice.
Sherlock huffed in response and turned on his laptop, and curled himself up in his sheet. John made their tea, and bought it over to the desk for Sherlock, who took it and sipped at it slowly. John watched him for a few moments, and then sat in his armchair. He'd had an idea.
'Did you have any plans for today?' He asked.
'None that I have been made aware of.' Sherlock replied from over his tea. John smiled and stood up from his chair.
'Well then, we are going out.' He said happily.
'Why? It's snowing John.'
'Very good deduction there detective.' John smiled, Sherlock frowned at his sarcasm. 'Get some clothes on; you're going to need more than your sheet.'
Sherlock sighed and got up from his chair, and plodded to his bedroom.
'Where are we going?' Sherlock yawned from his doorway as he reached it.
'To the park.'
'What for?' Sherlock asked. John loved to see him look confused, it was such a rare thing and he rather enjoyed being the one who knew what was going on.
'You'll see.' John said, as he headed upstairs to get his parka, leaving Sherlock irritated and confused.
'Did you and Mycroft ever play in the snow together as kids?' John asked as they sat in the back of a taxi. The snow fall had slowed and it was safe enough weather to drive in, as the roads had been cleared.
'No, there is quite an age difference between us John, that and we never played.' He said the word as if it were a complete waste of time for him to even speak it, let alone do it. John sighed.
'Every kid plays Sherlock, that's what kids are supposed to do.' He said.
'Well I never did.' Sherlock huffed and yawned again. John could see how tired he was, and wished that he idiot would just let himself sleep.
'That's sad Sherlock. That's what being a kid is all about.'
'Not for a Holmes, the closest we came to playing was learning how to fence, as every boy in the family does.'
John smiled weakly at him. The cab came to a slow as it pulled up beside a small park. John paid the driver and hopped out, huddling his parka around him as the cold air hit his face. He made his way round to Sherlock's side of the cab as he got out, and the two of them followed the footpath into the park. Kids and their mothers were everywhere, screaming, running and paying in the ice. John grinned excitedly as memories flooded back to him.
'Isn't it wonderful Sherlock?' he asked happily. Sherlock looked at him, his nose crinkled in confusion.
'Why are we here John? I don't understand.'
'How can you not understand? It's beautiful!' John said, still grinning as he picked up a lump of snow in his hands, he flinched as the cold pinched his skin. Sherlock was busying himself with his phone.
'It is simply precipitation of crystalline water ice flakes, I don't know why everyone is getting so excited about it, and this is juvenile behaviour–'he said, as a ball of ice smacked him in the side of the face, cutting off his deduction midway. He stopped, shocked and stared at John, who was giggling furiously at his clever shot.
'Sod off Sherlock, have some fun for once!' He said as he balled another pile in his hands. Sherlock stood, nose crinkled, brow furrowed and braced himself for impact as another ball smacked him in the side of his chest, causing him to drop his phone. He glared at John angrily, as he bent down to pick it up and pocket it.
'Fine, if that is how you're going to be, you can play with the children while I wait outside.' He said grumpily. He felt another icy smack at the back of his head. John looked at him, eyebrows raised suggestively. He stared at John for a few moments, before looking down at the snow, and picking up a handful. He palmed it curiously.
'Just try it Sherlock.' John said encouragingly, before receiving a lump thrown at his chest. John had already armed himself with a coupled of snowballs and retaliated immediately, throwing one after the other at the detective, who groaned with each impact.
'John Watson, I will end you!' Sherlock yelled as he furiously attempted to make another ball. John laughed hysterically and ran away to hide behind a tree as Sherlock tried to chase after him, stumbling along the way as his long legs kept tripping themselves up on the slippery ground. The heads of confused mothers and children turned to watch the two men chase each other around throwing snow, one hitting every time he threw one, the other missing almost constantly.
'Sherlock, your aim is terrible!' John shouted at him from behind another tree.
'Shut up!' Sherlock yelled as he threw another one, and smiled triumphantly as it smacked John on the side of his face. John laughed and saw Sherlock's smile. His heart warmed as he saw it, and Sherlock didn't try to hide it, as he realised, as juvenile an activity it may be, he was actually having fun.
Mrs Hudson had not been amused at their arrival home. The pair of them were freezing, and almost soaking wet, and she ordered them to go upstairs and change immediately. She was surprised to see Sherlock looking so happy and thanked John. John assured her it was his pleasure, and headed upstairs to light the fire.
Sherlock sat in front of the fireplace, wrapped in a blanket as he waited for John to finish making cocoa for them. John was beaming with joy, he was so glad that he had shared a piece of his childhood with Sherlock, and had actually seen him have fun from something other than playing with chemicals or body parts. He finished fixing the cocoa and headed over to the fireplace to sit with Sherlock, to find him sleeping soundly. He smiled, Sherlock had been exhausted from chasing him at the park, and now he would finally get the sleep he needed. John sipped his cocoa and smiled as he picked up the newspaper. It had been a good day for the pair of them, one that he would never forget.
Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it! :D
