From Book girl fan: Snow angels
They ran into some of Holmes's street urchins on their way back to Baker Street from the Yard. The detective was animated, rattling on about the stolen jewels they had been asked to investigate, but Watson soon found himself distracted.
"That's not it!" Wiggins was telling one of the younger boys. "It's the one yew put on top of the tree! That's the snow angel-"
"Naw!" The younger boy, Will, puffed his chest out. His cheeks were cherry red, for this particular group of Irregulars had been engaged recently in a snow fight. "Yew have to lay down, my dad told me. That's when the angel comes!"
Wiggins spotted Watson then, the twelve year old rolling his eyes in a world-weary manner, as if to say: "Children, eh?" Watson laughed despite himself.
"Watson?" Holmes turned to his friend and scowled once he realised he had been talking to himself for the past minute.
"A moment, Holmes." Watson went to the gaggle of children, ignoring the detective's outraged spluttering behind him. The boys were gathered in a cold, frost-bitten corner of Regent's Park; the shadowy spots were the best ones for fresh snow. "I'm afraid that Will is actually closer than you are Wiggins."
"Told yew!"
"But that ain't true, Doctor Watson! At the top of the tree-"
"The angel goes," Watson interrupted sternly. "But your father was right, Will. You have to lie down."
And lie down Watson did, moving his arms to demonstrate the best technique to make a snow angel.
Holmes crossed his arms with an exasperated puff of chilly winter air. "Really, Watson, what about your shoulder?"
Watson ignored him and regained his feet, beaming as the Irregulars saw the angel outline left behind and immediately lay down to try it for themselves.
Later that afternoon, ensconced back at 221B Baker Street, Watson removed his damp jacket with a wince. Holmes noticed and quirked an eyebrow.
"Do not say that you told me so."
"I didn't say anything," Holmes exclaimed indignantly. But he couldn't resist adding, "You knew what would happen as well as I did. What was the point?"
Watson's eyes twinkled. "There is always a point in fun, Holmes. Now, tell me all about these missing jewels."