Summary: Zane and Cole decide to go ice skating.

I own nothing but the story.

Saturday evening was usually a fun night for the ninja—so long as each of them had something to do. Saturdays were intended for going out, whether it be for dinner, dates, or both, and staying in for the evening was considered both pathetic and a waste.

This was why, with the clock reading 7:30 and still ticking the night hours away, Cole lay fuming on the living room couch. The television flickered in and out of focus, its signal wonky due to the Bounty's position in the air. Cole grumbled as the campy sitcom he was watching repeatedly cut out in favor of static. He picked at little balls of fuzz gripping the couch's fabric, seething as he thought of his so called "friends" who all made plans without him.

They didn't appear to have meant to; it just happened to work out that way. Jay and Nya had left for dinner and a movie, Kai and Lloyd had hunted down every last quarter on the Bounty and headed off to the arcade, and Zane had been out all day in the city's largest public library, doing something nerdy that Cole wasn't sure he'd be able to follow. That left him to spend the evening entertaining Sensei Wu, who wasn't much of a playmate anyway.

It wasn't the first time this had happened. Every once in awhile, some unfortunate ninja was left to spend their Saturday night alone with the television set, and out of the entire team, Cole found he hated it the most. Not only that, but it seemed to be happening a lot lately, and there were only so many weekends Cole could walk into a lonely café and sing the night away.

The television began to hum as it blinked into static once more. He threw his head back and groaned. Goodness, did he hate nights like this. He looked towards Sensei's room, wondering if his teacher would be up for a game of Blackjack.

The door to the Bounty's cabin suddenly squealed open, heavy footsteps following in its wake. Cole snapped his gaze to the other direction, and was surprised to see Zane appear in the living room entrance, carrying a bag nearly half his size and looking bushed.

Before Cole could think of something to say, Zane dropped the bag with a thud and said, "Some man hit me with his truck on my way back over here."

Cole's jaw fell to the floor, "Are you alright?"

Zane shrugged, "I am, but he made me drop my books all over the sidewalk. Do you have any idea how filthy the streets of Ninjago are?"

Cole's head spun in circles as he processed Zane's nonchalant demeanor, "I guess, but were you hurt? Injured?"

Zane shook his head, "Aside from a shallow dent in my thoracic cage, not really. Nothing happened to me that I cannot fix in the next day or so," moving on, he gestured to the couch, "May I sit down?"

Cole shifted his feet to the floor, growing pleased that he finally had someone to talk to other than himself. Dragging the large bag behind him, Zane collapsed onto the other end, eyeing the television curiously.

"Are you fond of watching white noise?"

Cole shook his head, shutting off the set, "The signal's flickering out."

"Oh," Zane said.

"So how was your day at the library?" Cole asked, reaching over and grabbing a handful of pretzels from the bag he set out earlier.

Zane responded with a smile as he turned on a nearby lamp, "Aside from the rude man in the truck, it was wonderful," he unzipped his bag and pulled it near him, digging around inside until he reemerged with a book almost the size of the coffee table, "I found the most delightfully large book about ocean life! I cannot wait to read it," he set it on the coffee table with a grunt, "I think I will spend the rest of the night on this, actually. That is, if I can get it into the bedroom. Would you mind helping me carry it?" he looked at Cole with one of his most earnest grins on his face.

The actual question was if Cole would carry it for him, but he smiled and said he didn't mind.

"Thank you, friend. So how has your evening been so far?"

Cole let out an exasperated noise, "Couldn't be worse, Zane."

His teammate frowned, "Why?"

"I'm just bored. Everyone has plans, and I hate spending Saturday nights alone."

"Oh," said Zane, "Would you care to read about ocean life with me?"

Cole laughed, "Not especially. The ocean weirds me out."

"Really? We could build a pillow fort."

That sounded interesting, but he'd still have to read a book about oceans, and Cole didn't think he'd be up to that.

"No thanks," he said, sighing, "I think I'm just going to head down to the all night café and sing the blues 'till the sun comes up."

"You don't sound too enthused."

"Well, my good man, there's only so many nights I can do it before I start looking pathetic. I'm pushing the envelope already."

"Why not do something else instead?" Zane suggested, putting a finger to his lips in thought, "Is there anything you would like to do?"

Cole ran a few ideas through his head, "None that we could do right now."

He could almost see the lightbulb appear over Zane's head as his eyes lit up, "I know!" he said, "I saw an ice skating rink on my route towards the library, would you be interested in skating for a few hours?"

"Hm," Cole looked towards his reflection in the empty TV set, "I dunno. Never been ice skating before."

At Zane's silence, Cole looked over to see his friend staring at him with a slightly horrified expression.

"You've never been ice skating before?"

Cole gave a slow head shake, "I grew up in the southern end of Ninjago. I'd hardly even been around snow until I became a ninja."

Zane was silent for a long time, to the point where Cole began to get concerned.

"Uh...Zane?"

"Get your shoes."

"Huh?"

"Put on your shoes. And grab your sweater." Zane stood up and stepped over his bag, now forgotten. Cole sat up straight.

"We're going skating?"

"Of course," Zane went down the hallway, grabbing a knit hat.

"But what about your ocean book?" Cole asked, standing.

"The book can wait," Zane turned back to look at him, "This can not. I can't believe you have never gone ice skating."

"It's not—my fault," Cole said as he went over to his shoes. He didn't really want to skate, but he didn't want to stay in, either.

"That is of no matter," said Zane, "You are going to come with me, and we are going to skate."

Okay, Cole thought. He didn't know how to skate, and he was certain he would look like a flailing baboon the whole time he did it, but he'd much rather spend the evening goofing around with his friend than silently seething all alone.

And who knows, he thought as they left the Bounty, This might actually be fun.

He immediately regretted ever leaving the couch as soon as he entered the rink. It was far colder than he had expected, and he wished he had thought to bring his beanie, or some mittens. He shoved his hands into his pockets as Zane went over to retrieve some skates.

Cole began to examine his surroundings, and was surprised to find the rink completely empty. While he felt glad knowing no one would bear witness to the monstrosity that would be him skating, it was unnerving to enter a popular public area on a Saturday to find it completely empty. It felt like going to see a concert only to find yourself as the sole audience member.

"Here Cole!" Zane called from a patch of carpet at the rink's edge. He already had his skates on, and was holding up the other pair.

Feeling self conscious, Cole went over and began slipping on the skates.

"Make sure they are laced tight," said Zane, his voice warm.

Cole pulled at the shoes until they were choking his shins. He stood up with a wobble, and Zane stepped onto the ice, gliding away with the all the grace of a professional figure skater.

"It is a good thing we are alone tonight," said Zane, "Now we won't have to worry about other skaters running over your fingers."

Cole pressed his fingertips into his palms. Zane moved in a little circle before stopping to face him.

"Well come on," he said, "Step onto the ice."

Cole stepped to the edge of the carpet, using one hand to grip the rail. He put one foot forward, and drew it back.

"What's wrong?" called Zane.

Cole shrugged, "I don't want to fall."

Zane laughed, "Do not worry about that. The first thing I am going to teach you is how to fall properly. Have you ever gone roller skating before?"

Cole nodded, "That I have done."

Zane clapped his hands, "Good. Ice skating is similar. This will make teaching more of a breeze."

Good, Cole thought as he crept onto the ice, I might not be a complete failure.

He gripped the railing so hard his knuckles turned a shade lighter. Zane skated to a stop near him, spraying a flurry of frost onto his ankles.

"Ready to fall properly?"

"Yes, I'm going to be doing it so much, I'd hate to do it wrong." Cole yelped as his left foot began sliding away from him.

"Do not worry," Zane wrapped his arm under both of Cole's and pulled him away from the rail, "It's for your own safety. It is important to fall so that you can keep your limbs protected, and so you know how to get up again."

Cole sighed, "Alright."

The falling process was about as painful as Cole imagined. Zane said it was important to fall sideways, and to keep all appendages, "towards the trunk," as he put it.

Falling down was the easy part; the hard part was getting up. Zane said to, "Keep your center of gravity," to keep your foot in between your hands as you stood up. Ten minutes of trying and failing had passed before he was able to do it by himself.

He was feeling pretty proud until Zane cheerfully sang that it was time to start, "marching and gliding," moving across the ice at a steady speed without falling. It was similar to roller blading, and while Cole was able to do it, it was just different enough to reduce him to floundering. This created more than a few problems.

"You have to march," said Zane as Cole flailed about for the eightieth time.

"What do you mean, march?" his foot slipped out from underneath him and he slammed into the ice once more. Getting back up was a slow process, and all the while Zane skated gracefully around the rink, spinning and jumping and making Cole feel pretty darn cruddy.

"Are you okay?" Zane said as he came to a stop next to him, "We can quit if you want to."

"No, no," Cole stood up a little higher, trying to keep his center of gravity constant, "Just got to get the hang of it."

"Hmm," Zane pressed his fingers to his lips, "I think I know something that may help you."

Cole nodded, inviting his friend to continue.

Zane held out his arms at a forty-five degree angle, "Try and—when you're gliding, pretend you are on a scooter. Try and pretend the ice is the road, and that's how you propel yourself forward. This will help you move around."

Cole thought he understood now, "Okay."

Things were much easier after that. Once he was able to move around, everything else seemed to fall in place. Stopping was as simple as sliding the skate flat until it scraped, creating what was known as a "snowplow," a term Cole enjoyed so much he smiled every time he thought of it.

Turning became easier when he finally figured out how to maneuver the momentum he carried. After a while, he was able to move around the rink with little to no trouble, much to Zane's delight.

"You did it!" he exclaimed.

Cole cheered as he made his first full lap, "Finally."

"Give yourself some credit," said Zane, speeding up next to him, "You learned fast. I am proud of you."

"Thanks," said Cole, eyeing his friend, "Say, uh, how do you move so fast?"

"Get low, lean forward," said Zane, "And try not to look down so much. It's all about distribution of weight."

"Okay," Cole bent his knees and began gliding faster.

"There you go!" said Zane, slowing to turn.

Cole smiled, unable to believe he was having as much fun as he was. It was such a turnaround from the previous few hours, and he began considering returning for another Saturday. Sure, he was aching all over and was going to have trouble bending for the next few days, but this was fun, this was exciting, this was far more entertaining than roller blading. He ought to do this all the time, improve his skills. He began moving faster.

Zane suddenly let out a shout, and Cole became aware that the railing was coming at him pretty fast, and he wasn't sure he was able to turn in time. He tried to stop, but how was he supposed to stop again? Snowplow, right, snowplow. He turned his skate to the side, hearing it scrape layers of frost off the ice.

"Turn, turn!" came Zane's frantic call.

Turn? Now Cole was getting a little panicked. Should he turn or stop?

Listen to Zane, said a voice in his head, He knows more than you, therefore he knows best.

He turned his skate straight and began leaning to the right.

"Wait! No, Cole stop!" Zane raced towards him, but it was too late. Cole hit the railing with a dull thud, and while he managed to avoid slamming his entire body into the wall, pain exploded in the hand he used to shield himself. Before his tailbone hit the ice again, he managed to yell out a single, but expressive, curse word.

"Well, Cole," the doctor clasped her hands together, "You've torn a ligament."

"Oh, man," Cole clutched his tender wrist, which had grown twice in size since they'd left the rink.

The doctor laughed, turning to Cole with a smile on her freckled face, "First time skating?"

Cole shrugged, "Um, on ice."

From his spot beside the door, Zane offered a tight smile.

"Well, don't worry," said the doctor, "It's only a minor sprain, just a tear. With a little time, some choice exercises, and rest, it'll heal on its own. Let's fix you up with a splint."

"Alright," Cole rubbed at his hand and looked over to Zane, "We've got some painkillers at home, right?"

"Yes," Zane said, his voice just above a whisper.

Cole frowned. Zane had been acting strange since he'd come rushing over to him after so gracelessly damaging some more of his sit bones. The entire walk here he'd been mostly silent, only answering Cole's questions with a small, "yes," or "no."

This behavior continued throughout the entire doctor's session and well after they left the doctor's office. They'd walked halfway back to where the Bounty was parked before Cole finally broke the silence.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Hm?"

"Come on!" Cole nudged his friend with the shoulder that wasn't connected to his injured wrist, "You're acting all weird. What's wrong?"

Zane looked at the splint that covered Cole's hand and sighed, "I just feel bad."

"For what, me?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Zane barked out a laugh, "Look at yourself! Sprained wrist, multiple bruises, overworked muscles!"

With each injury, Cole became aware of how much he ached, but nevertheless, "So?"

"So? So!" Zane stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and faced him, "That was very poor teaching on my part. I should have properly protected you. I should have given you wrist guards, a helmet. You could have been severely hurt," his eyes widened as a thought struck him, "You could have gotten a concussion! No, no, no," Zane shook his head and sat down on the curb, "That was poor teaching, very poor. I'm sorry, Cole."

Cole stood for a moment before dropping down next to his friend, "Zane," he began, "It's really okay. It was my first time. We just move on, wiser than we were before. You were a great teacher. Besides, if tonight has made anything clear, it's that I got a real thick skull."

Cole smiled when he heard his friend chuckle.

"And hey," he added, "We can get wrist guards for next time. I know how to skate, now, so there should be fewer injuries, anyway."

Zane blinked, then turned to look at him, "You want to skate again?"

Cole grinned, "Yeah! This was the most fun I've had in weeks. We ought to go every Saturday."

A laugh left Zane's lips, "I think we should let you heal, first," he said, tapping at the splint.

Cole smirked, turning over his wrist, "Yeah, maybe."

"But we could—" said Zane, a little unsure, "In the meantime, we could get you your own skates, your own wrist guards, your own helmet."

"Woah, woah woah," Cole held up a hand, "I'll wear some wrist guards, but I'm not wearing any old helmet."

"Why not?"

Because it's dorky. "Because I'll get helmet hair!"

Zane smirked, "Okay."

Cole grinned. Together they sat under the yellow glow of the streetlights, watching the cars go by until Cole thought to check the clock, finding it was one in the morning, well after their curfew. Nudging his teammate, he stood up, offering his good hand to pull his friend up with him. Zane took it gladly.

They were silent the rest of the way back to the Bounty, but the silence was a companionable one. The following morning Cole hurt so bad he had to get Lloyd to pull his pants up for him, but all the same he couldn't wait for the following Saturday.

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