It was a hot afternoon in November and Toots, Cuddles, Sherlock, John and Mycroft sat together on the porch of Toot's house. They had all been happily gossiping in Toot's room, when Toot's mother had come in and shooed them all out of the house.
Mycroft wiped the back of his neck with a hankie from his purse. "Toots, I don't get it. Why does your mom always shoo us out of the house when Liberace comes on?"
Toots shrugged and took another sip from her cola. "I don't know maybe she has a crush on him."
Sherlock snickered. "Well, good luck to her on that one. I'm pretty sure that Liberace was gay."
Toots and Cuddles looked at each other in confusion. "Gay?" Cuddles asked aloud. "He does seem happy, but what does that have to do with Toot's mom's crush?"
Sherlock sighed and in the most imperious tone a teenage girl could manage he spoke, "Your mom would not have any luck dating Liberace because he likes…" Sherlock's sentence was cut off when John kicked the side of Sherlock's foot. "Ouch, look what you did to my saddle oxford." Sherlock wined as he inspected the scuff on his shoe.
"So, speaking of crushes do you like anyone at school?" Toots asked Sherlock.
Sherlock looked back blankly at Toots. "What do you mean?"
Toots laughed. "Sheryl, you are such a scream. What kind of guy would you want to go steady with?"
When Sherlock didn't answer Cuddles chimed in with her opinion. "I want a boy that's kind and chivalrous, you know my knight in shining armor-my future husband."
Toots laughed. "Cuddles, you are such a romantic. I want to marry an old man with one foot on a banana peel and the other in the grave."
Toots and Cuddles laughed. After their laughter subsided Sherlock took a drag on a cigarette he had lit and fished out of his purse and commented, "Well, at least you're practical."
"Sheryl, put that cigarette out. If my mom catches you she will have a fit." Toots admonished.
Sherlock took another purposeful long drag on his cigarette. "Toots, don't be such a square. Your mom is going to be holed up in the house with her fake boyfriend for at least a half hour."
Toots frowned at Sherlock. "Hey, who are you calling square?"
Cuddles the peacemaker quietly but firmly interrupted the discussion. "Okay, let's change the subject. Sheryl, you never answered us. What kind of boyfriend-husband do you want?" Cuddles asked.
Sherlock didn't answer for a moment or two and then without hesitation he answered." If I were to date I would want my boyfriend to be honest, true and brave."
Toots nudged Sherlock in the ribs. "He sounds perfect, maybe a Doctor or perhaps a soldier?"
"Or maybe both?" Mycroft said mockingly.
"Okay, smarty pants, what sort of man do you want?" Toots asked Mycroft.
Mycroft grabbed Sherlock's cigarette out of his hand took a drag and answered. "I'm going to remain an old maid librarian."
John nodded. "Yep, that sounds about right."
Toots pointedly looked over at John. "Okay, so what kind of man do you want?"
John cleared his throat. "Um well I guess I want a hero. After all doesn't everyone want someone who makes them feel safe-less alone?"
Cuddles smiled. "That's really sweet Jean, so I guess that makes you a romantic too."
John swallowed and looked down at the ground. "Yea, I guess so."
Cuddles patted John on the back. "It's okay Jean, we'll show them."
John nodded sadly. "Yes, that we will." John said as he stared off in the distance.
Toots jumped up and announced. "We are all getting too serious. Let's walk to the park and take pictures with my Brownie Camera."
"Sheryl, did you bring your transistor radio, if so turn it on so we can listen to music on the way." Cuddles said as she skipped along on the outside of the little group.
Toots took a deep breath. "Wow, I can't believe it's this hot in November. I guess this is what they mean by an Indian summer."
Sherlock frowned. "Besides being politically incorrect the term Indian summer is not scientifically valid. I believe that this unusual warming trend in the weather is perhaps the very beginning of Global Warming."
Toots stared at Sherlock like he was a being from another planet. "Okay, H.G. Wells's time traveler let me get this straight. The future is full of gay men, global warming, flat colas, weak cigarettes, and reefer addicts?"
Sherlock thought for a moment. "Yep, that pretty much sizes it up."
Toots playfully punched Sherlock in the arm as she said, "Come on, Miss H.G. Wells, let's go take some pictures."
Sherlock, John, Mycroft and Cuddles all poised for a picture near a drinking fountain in the park as Toots took a picture, then Sherlock took a picture of Toots and Cuddles, and lastly Toots took a picture of John and Sherlock. "Come on you two, get closer together," Toots ordered. Sherlock and John took a hesitant step towards each other and stopped. "Oh for goodness sake stand next to each other hugging like Cuddles and I did. It's not like either of you has coodies. Hey, Sheryl, Jean dosen't bite lean over on her shoulder so I can get you both in the picture." Sherlock looked at John cross eyed and then put his arms around John's waist and leaned his head down on John's shoulder. Toots took a couple of snaps and then nodded satisfactorily. "That's more like it; these are going to be some great pictures."
"Hey, look over there," Cuddles pointed, "It's the snow cone man. Come on."
All five girls ran over to the snow cone cart. "I want a cherry snow cone with shaved ice," Cuddles said as she placed her order. "Everyone else ordered the same thing and then the girls all went and sat on a low wall near the restrooms and happily ate their snow cones. Sherlock looked at his curiously for a moment or two and then took a cautious bite.
When the smooth ice shavings and intense cherry flavor hit Sherlock's tongue he exclaimed, "Holy shit, without a doubt that is the best thing I've ever tasted."
Toots was the first to react. "Sheryl, you have a mouth like a sailor. You had better curb it, or you will never find a decent guy."
Sherlock didn't reply for he was lost in sensory experience of the snow cone.
Cuddles was anxious for the atmosphere to return to its lazy afternoon contentedness, so after everyone was finishing up their snow cones in silence, Cuddles said, "Let's go swing on the swings."
Sherlock had just finished licking his fingers clean from cherry juice and he looked up a Cuddles' suggestion. "Okay, let's go."
All five girls ran over to the swings and Toots pushed Cuddles, Sherlock pushed John and Mycroft swung by himself. John had never felt so happy, as he rose higher and higher in the air. He squealed with delight when at one point he felt the swing was going to flip over the swing set frame.
"Okay, time to switch," Toots yelled out as her swing descended down to a point where Cuddles could grab a hold of the chains on either side of the swing and bring it to a stop. Sherlock went through the same slow down process with John's swing and then it was his and Cuddles' time to be pushed. Sherlock and Toots pumped their legs and without arranging it each seemed to be in competition with the other to see who could go the highest.
Cuddles clapped her hands in excitement. "Come on Toots, go higher." She cheered.
John was about to cheer on Sherlock but instead looked over at Cuddles, "They both appear to be going too high and too fast. Are you sure this is safe?"
Cuddles looked over at John and smiled. "It's okay Jean, we do this all the time. Just wait it gets better." Cuddles laughed. When their swings had gotten so high they began to bump up. Cuddles yelled out, "Okay, Toots, jump." Toots took a deep breath and then she was airborne. A few moments later Toots landed in a pile of skirt and slip at Cuddles' feet laughing. Cuddles helped her up and then they both shouted out to Sherlock.
"Come on Sheryl, jump, jump," Toots and Cuddles chanted in unison.
That was when the whole day turned into a nightmare for John, for instead of his being a fifteen year old girl in 1950's Corona; John was a full grown man watching his best friend Sherlock jump to his death.
As Sherlock jumped from the swing with his skirt billowing in the wind like a spindly jellyfish, John shouted, "Sherlock, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO…," and then he fainted.
When John came to Cuddles was sprinkling water in his face as he lay in Sherlock's arms. Cuddles looked into his eyes with a pinched worried look, "Jean are you okay? We are so sorry, I had no idea you were so sensitive." Cuddles said as she patted John's back softly.
John looked around at the concerned faces and then did what he had never done as a man. He wept nosily in Sherlock's arms until he got the hiccups. When he was cried out Cuddles put her arms around his neck.
"Poor, Jean, please forgive us. I wouldn't scare you for all the tea in China," Cuddles said as she held back tears of her own.
Toots stood up and put her arms around Cuddles and Jean, "Jean, let's go home."
The walk home was silent as each person remained lost in their own thoughts, struggling to bring back the carefree attitude they had all started out with. Sherlock looked over at John's pale face and mouthed the words, "I'm Sorry."
A teary eyed, John mouthed back, "I know. I know…"
Later that night as Sherlock lay in bed looking up at the ceiling; he could tell that John wasn't asleep even though his eyes were closed.
"John, I know you're awake. Again I am so sorry, I wish I could take it back…you know…St. Bart's and all that…" Sherlock whispered.
John kept his eyes closed as he answered Sherlock, "I know and I do forgive you. It's just that sometimes I feel so safe as if it didn't happen and then one small incident brings it all back. My heart forgives you, but my head is still scared to death." John whispered.
Sherlock took John's ice cold hand in his own and patted it. "I said I'm sorry to your heart and so this is for your head too I'm sorry."
John was about ready to reply when he was interrupted by Mycroft. "Oh, for God's sake would you two shut up. Some of us are trying to sleep."
John opened one eye to look at Sherlock and they both giggled, which soon turned out until all out laughter.
John would often look back on that night with fondness. With all the modern anti-depressants, therapists, and various recreational activities that involved the consumption of large amounts of alcohol, none of them made him feel as safe as that 1950's cry, hug, snow cone and shared laughter of his best friend-Sherlock.