Prompt from mrspencil: a pond has thinner ice than anticipated
The wind whipped his coat. "Holmes!" he cried against the howling of the storm. "Holmes, are we close yet?"
"Nearly, Watson!" Holmes shouted in return. He was barely visible through the heavy sleet, just a tall, dark-coated figure some distance ahead. "The pond can't be far now!"
Watson hurried along in Holmes' wake, knowing if he lost his friend now, it would take far too long to find him again and the effort could very well kill them both. He pulled his scarf tighter, fighting against the cruel winds snatching it away. "Will you even be able to see the evidence in this?"
His words must have disappeared into the storm, as Holmes did not reply.
Holmes was correct, as always, and a few minutes later Watson was stepping on the icy edge of the frozen pond. "Holmes!" he shouted. "It's here!"
Holmes was at his side in moments. Watson relished in the warmth, as the storm had only grown worse in the last few minutes, and his fingers were starting to grow numb. It was dangerous to stay out in it much longer, he knew, but he knew equally well that he had little hope of convincing Holmes to return to their accommodation until the evidence they sought for was found.
Holmes stepped out onto the ice. It creaked beneath him, barely audible over the howling gale, but held. He took a further step, Watson watching the ice underneath his feet carefully so as to catch the very first sign it would crack. If Holmes fell through, he would go after him, but he knew it would do little good.
At Holmes' next step, the ice gave. It was only the merest fraction, but it was enough for Watson to call, "Holmes stop! The ice won't hold!"
"One more, Watson!" He thought he heard in reply, but he couldn't be sure.
Holmes took another step.
The ice cracked beneath him.
"Holmes!"
Holmes took a step backwards, but it was too late. Cracks were already spiderwebbing across the ice, water leaking up through the narrow gaps. Suddenly, it was a race back to the shore between Holmes and the steadily cracking ice.
Watson stepped out onto the ice, relying on the thicker ice near the edge to keep him safe, but even that was thinner than anticipated. Thin cracks appeared, and water started to puddle around his shoes, but he didn't step back. With the rate the ice was cracking, he would need to grab Holmes and pull him ashore or watch him disappear into the freezing depths.
Finally, Holmes was close enough to grab, and he reached for his friend's coat, pulling with all his strength and sending the two of them careening backwards into the snow, safe.
"Next time, Holmes," Watson said, the storm still carrying on around them and dampness from the snow slowly sinking into their clothes, "perhaps we can wait until after the storm before looking for evidence."