A/N: In which Holmes experiences driving a motor car in the winter…

I never did like these blasted automobiles.

These were the words echoing throughout my whole being—from my frosty nose to my stiff legs and my numb feet, as I trudged through the snow.

I really ought to have known something would go wrong. I had only driven one of these new-fangled carriages less than half a dozen times, and never in weather conditions such as this!

It had been snowing for nearly an two hours, but there was almost no wind, and the sun not yet completely set. I had driven horse-drawn carriages in such conditions before, and so was not too terribly concerned about the inclement weather.

When I found myself and the motor car in the ditch, I decided that perhaps that had been a mistake.

In my defense, I did had a good reason to be driving. My client's house was only fifteen miles from the nice place in the country that good old Watson had recently moved into, and I'd decided to spend the night there rather than with my rather batty female client. (It had been a frustrating case, given that the poor old woman seemed to be in no danger except from her own paranoia. Unless it was perilous to own more than two score of cats. Eugh, I wouldn't be surprised if that were true!)

My footprints were the only thing disturbing the smooth blanket of snow coating every surface as far as the eye could see. I shivered and shoved my hands deeper into my pockets. Blast! I hadn't even thought to bring gloves…how perfectly marvelous. I gave a dry laugh.

I had phoned Watson from my lady client's house to ask if he would mind much if I stayed with him for the night.

"Of course, you are always welcome here, Holmes!" my dear friend had replied. "But promise me you'll be careful—even more so than usual. The snow will make the roads terribly slick."

I had chuckled. "My dear friend, you are getting too old to fuss over me! Of course I'll be careful. If you don't see me in an hour's time, then you can resume your role as my sainted mother, all right?"

"Really, Holmes, it's not something to joke about!"

"All right, all right," I replied, shaking my head though I knew he couldn't see it. "I promise I shall be careful, and I'll see you soon. Good-bye."

"You had better be here in an hour or less," said Watson in a warning tone. "Good-bye."

I'd chuckled again after hanging up. Of course I'd be fine! I wasn't as young as I used to be, but that didn't mean I couldn't drive an automobile! I'd driven all the way here from London, so I certainly had some experience "behind the wheel", so to speak. And besides, I was willing to take the risk if it meant spending the night with my dear friend rather than with my elderly client.

But now this blasted cold was beginning to make me wish that I had stayed with the woman, felines and all.

I shivered again, wondering how much farther it was to Watson's place, and why in Heavens' name he hadn't moved to somewhere with houses a bit more frequently placed, so that I might at least have a chance to stop and warm my toes on this long walk. And perhaps have a hot drink as well…

I was absorbed in a vivid daydream about a steaming cup of coffee when I saw a light in the distance, coming over the next hill. I quickened my pace, hoping it was another motor car, and that the driver would be kind enough to give me a lift.

Squinting, I saw that it was indeed an automobile, and I waved to it as it came closer, hoping I had arrested the driver's attention.

The light of the headlamp was bright enough that I couldn't see the driver's face until he had nearly reached me.

"Good God, Holmes!" came a familiar voice from the car. "I can't trust you to do anything without getting yourself into a mess, can I?"

"Watson!" I exclaimed. "What are you doing out here?" I raced to the side of the automobile and climbed in, grateful for what limited shelter there was.

My friend rolled his eyes as he threw a blanket over my lap. "Looking for you, you bloody idiot! Are you hurt?"

"No, no, I'm fine," I said quickly. "Just a bit chilly, that's all."

"More than a little, I'd wager," he muttered under his breath. "How far did you get before you got it stuck?"

"Seven or eight miles," I replied. "Far enough I decided it wasn't worth backtracking so I started walking in your direction instead."

"It's not in the way of traffic, is it?"

"No, it'll be fine where it is for now."

"Excellent, we can worry about it in the morn—goodness, is that really you shivering or have you developed epilepsy since I last saw you?!"

I'd given a rather violent convulsive shiver, and now I waved my hand in protest. "I'm all right, just a little cold."

"And no wonder! You didn't even think to wear gloves! You'll be lucky if those long bony things haven't gotten frostbite!" he exclaimed as he put the motor car into gear and turned it around. "As your doctor, I order you to keep them as warm as you can, but don't rub them. As your friend, I hope they fall off! Perhaps you'd get into less trouble if you didn't have fingers!"

"Watson! Please, calm yourself!" I exclaimed, alarmed at my friend's sudden firey outburst.

"Holmes, you could've been seriously injured or even killed!" My friend glared at me for a moment and quickly returned his attention to the road.

"But the important thing is that I wasn't," I replied gently.

Watson sighed. "You are right. But you had me dreadfully worried!"

A knot of guilt formed in my stomach. I'd been irked and vaguely amused by my predicament up until this point, but now I realized how anxious my dear friend must've been. Poor Watson! It was no wonder he'd snapped at me!

I took a deep breath. "I'm terribly sorry for all the stress and inconvenience I've—" I began, but Watson cut me off.

"No, I'll have none of that, it's perfectly all right," Watson replied. "I'm sure it wasn't your fault. What happened, exactly?"

"I'm not entirely sure," I replied, frowning. "One moment I was driving, and the next the car was spinning completely around and before I had time to react, I was in the ditch facing the opposite direction. I nearly flew out of the car, I think, but I stayed inside somehow—grace of God, I suppose."

Watson nodded. "It sounds as though you'd found one of the slipperier parts of the road. It could have happened to anyone. I've heard some of the boys around here remarking that one isn't truly a driver until he's landed himself in a roadside ditch." My friend gave a wry smile.

"I suppose," I replied. I still felt horrible that my friend had been so worried about me, and it was beginning to occur to me just how much worse things could have gone for me. I could've suffered a concussion and died of exposure, or even crashed and died on impact, and no one would've been the wiser until Watson came across my cold corpse. I shuddered, trying to erase that image from my mind.

"Still cold?" Watson inquired, apparently seeing me out of the corner of his eye.

"A tad," I answered.

"We only have another two miles to go," Watson informed me. "You'll be warm again soon."

"And you as well," I remarked. "You must be rather cold yourself."

Watson shrugged. "A little, yes," he admitted. "It is dreadfully cold tonight."

I nodded.

"How was the case?" Watson asked.

"Dreadful. It seemed intriguing at the start, but it seems my client is no more than a lonely old woman with wild imagination and far too many cats than is possibly beneficial to human health."

"That's too bad," my friend replied sympathetically. "Hardly made your trip out here worth the hassle, then."

"Nonsense, I am still glad for a chance to visit you," I replied, smiling.

Watson laughed. "I certainly hope that next time it is under different circumstances!"

"This isn't an experience I plan on repeating," I said. "I haven't been able to feel my feet for a good long while now!"

"I hope the damage isn't too great, or you may have to stay with me longer than you had planned. I can't allow you to be walking about on frostbitten feet. I hope you didn't have anything too terribly important planned for the next few days?"

"Well, I was planning to have tea with the prime minister—"

"I am being serious!" Watson was fighting back a smile.

"No, I don't have anything in particular planned," I said. "And I suppose I wouldn't mind too terribly if I must spend a few days with you."

"Whether you like it or not, you won't be leaving until I am sure you are all right. Understood?"

"Yes sir," I replied, giving a mock salute.

Watson shook his head in exasperation, but I could still see that he was fighting back a grin. "Have you always been this frustrating, or have you just missed me?"

"A little of both, I think," I replied quietly.

"I thought as much," said Watson, grinning broadly now as he turned into his driveway and parked the automobile. "Come, let's go inside, before we both freeze to death!"

A/N: Don't worry, Holmes will be all right. He's in safe hands. :)