Snow Business
'Sherlock, wait!, we don't all have incredibly long legs you know?' yelled John as he carefully made his way along the snow covered London streets.
'Come on, John, Lestrade is waiting at the Yard' replied Sherlock as he turned a corner up ahead of them, seemingly unconcerned about the weather.
When John finally made it to the corner there was no sign of his flatmate, so he stood and looked around trying to get his bearings. Suddenly as John turned back to look in the direction of where he had just walked, from out of nowhere a snowball made contact with his back just between his shoulder blades.
John spun around immediately and saw his flatmate standing a little way from him with his hands clasped behind his back and a suspiciously innocent look on his face.
'Sherlock, did you throw that?' asked John.
'Throw what?' asked Sherlock, at which point he brought one of his hands from behind his back and proceeded to throw the snowball it contained with deadly accuracy at John, he then spun on his heels and ran off laughing gleefully.
John spluttered at the face full of snow and grinned. 'So you want to play do you? I'll get you for that Sherlock.' John bent down and collected a portion of snow and began moulding it into a snowball, and ran after his flatmate.
As John approached Sherlock, he threw the snow he had held in his hands, and caught Sherlock on the back of his head, the snow covering his dark curls. John laughed at the expression on Sherlock's face as some of the snow melted and ran down inside the collar of his coat.
More snowballs were thrown between them, many reaching their target, until finally there seemed to be more snow on the two men than was on the ground, so they gave up and decided to call it a draw.
'You're covered in snow, Sherlock, let me brush you down' said John reaching his hand up to Sherlock's back and brushing the snow from his long black coat.
'Thank you, so are you, you've got snow in your hair', Sherlock said as he put up his hand to John's head to brush away the snow. At that point Sherlock froze, as he looked into John's eyes. His pupils were dilated and his breathing was becoming more erratic. Sherlock stared at him as his brain began to run at a million miles a second.
'What's happening? What does this mean?' thought Sherlock as his own breathing began to falter.
Before he could continue that thought, the sound of childish laughter broke the spell that surrounded John and Sherlock, and eye contact was broken as John looked around to see three young boys come around the corner laughing and throwing their own snowballs at each other. Sherlock cleared his throat and lowered his arm back to his side, as he turned and started walking away.
'Sherlock?' called John.
'Come along John, Lestrade will be waiting.' replied Sherlock as he strode away.
John stood for a moment, looking at his friend as he marched off down the street, a indefinable look on his face. Finally he pulled himself together, shook his head sadly and jogged after him.
A/N: This is my first attempt at pre-slash (please be kind), I'm thinking of extending this where they arrive at Scotland Yard and the tension between them is obvious to all, please let me know what you think.