Okay so this is my very first posted fic so reviews would be GREAT. I want to thank my fiction class lunch time sherlock-off because that inspired my story. This is meant to be a cutesy, feely, awwww story so I hope you guys like it!
DISCLAIMER: the characters are not mine and the world is not mine
It is was unusually cold and harsh winter that December down in London, specifically at 221b Baker Street. Above the rooftops of the townhouses and above the whole of the city at the clouds, specifically snow clouds. The fluffy giants are rather uncommon, but that winter is special.
It was just the first week of December when the storm came. Snow floated down and covered the streets and buildings, making the traffic even worse than it was and the inhabitants stayed in the warmth of the buildings. Schools were closed, offices shut down, and stores shut their blinds.
Around this time Sherlock was working on a particularly fun murder. A child's body was found floating in the Thames, but that wasn't the fun part. All of the limbs were missing and were found stuffed away with other murders, and each limb was painted beautifully. Sherlock wanted to take those limbs home as decoration, but John refused to have a bloody arm with flowering trees painted on it hanging above the couch.
During the storm, John was writing on his blog while Sherlock protested at John's refusal to hang the art limbs.
"Those flowers were beautiful John! Didn't you see the detail in them?"
"No."
"You won't have to hang it up, I'll do it."
"No."
"Please John, an early Christmas gift?" John looked up from his laptop and gave a pointed glare to Sherlock. Sherlock rolled his eyes and hopped onto the sofa chair, deep in thought. After a couple minutes of Sherlock's breathing and the clickity-clack of typing, the ringing of John's phone interrupted.
"Lestrade?...Another limb…puppies? Seriously, puppies? …We're coming…" John put down the phone and looked towards Sherlock.
"Time to get another limb." This made Sherlock immediately look up and hop off his throne. By the time John pushed himself up Sherlock already had his coat and scarf on, ready to instigate the murder.
"Anything special about this one?" Sherlock asked while John was zipping up his own coat.
"Well," John was opening the front door, "The foot has puppies on it."
Sherlock nodded and bounded down the stairs, excited at the idea that he might be able to sneak a foot in coat pocket. Once outside the pair fully noticed the growing snow sticking to the ground and the cars skidding slightly on the roads. Sherlock wanted to get there as soon as possible, but John forced him to walk, claiming that the roads were too dangerous and the murder won't undo itself if they were five minutes late.
While walking down the pavement, John noticed something. Sherlock's shoes were getting soaked in the snow and he was shivering slightly.
"Are you cold?" John asked.
Sherlock didn't answer.
"Your shoes are getting soaked." John commented. "Don't you have boots?"
Sherlock only shivered in response.
John looked at him, thinking about what to do. After a couple seconds of thought he pulled Sherlock into the nearest café that was open. Inside he immediately bought two hot cocoas and slipped Sherlock a cup without comment. Sherlock looked at the hot drink in his hands and muttered thanks. John then pulled them back outside and they continued on their way to the murder.