A/N: Pure silliness. Read with caution.

Prompt from Wordwielder: Hijinks

Hijinks (noun, plural): boisterous or rambunctious carryings-on, carefree antics or horseplay ~ Merriam Webster online dictionary

Festive fripperies decked the mantelpiece of 221B Baker Street. Mrs Hudson's chef-d'oeuvres adorned the dining table and filled the flat with appropriately scrumptious aromas.

The Inspector took a sip of his whisky and with a contented sigh turned to the detective wreathing himself in boughs of smoke. "Any words of wisdom to share as the year comes to a close?"

Holmes paused. With a festive twinkle he turned to the man, "Inspector, you are well aware that I have oft criticised the Yard on their deficiencies this year. It is not in my nature to overlook mistakes, my own or others, and I rely on my comrade," he glanced significantly at Watson, "to smooth over the, er, disturbance that my words churn up. It is with hard-earned experience that I pass this axiom on to you today: Do not criticise another until you have walked a mile in their shoes."

The Inspector nodded, reflecting on the truth of the words.

But Holmes wasn't finished and with a growing smile held up a hand. "That way, when you criticise said person, you will be a mile away, and you will have their shoes."

Both Watson and Lestrade nearly lost their drinks.

With a new respect for this alternate Holmes, Lestrade cleared his throat. "While we're in the mood, I have a question."

"Do enlighten us with said inquiry."

"Tell me why I never see elephants hiding up in trees?"

"Outside the obvious fact that elephants are found only in the London zoo?"

"Yes."

Watson shook his head. "I cannot imagine. Do tell, Inspector."

"Because they are really good at it."

Silence.

"I suppose, it is my turn to share a riddle," Watson poured himself a dash of his favourite brandy. "Tell me, what falls down but is never injured." He glanced pointedly at his friend. "It's not you, Holmes."

Mrs Hudson bustled in to gather the tea dishes. "Why, rain, of course. Simple."

All three men stared. "Er," Watson cleared his throat, "That is correct, Mrs Hudson. And, would you care to join our holiday hijinks?"

"Thank you kindly, gentlemen, but I must get packed. I'm travelling tonight to see family. As a cook though, I will give you men a tip: justice is a dish best served cold."

Holmes gave the landlady an appreciative nod while Lestrade and Watson stared, uncomprehending.

"Oh?" Watson at last managed.

"Because," Mrs Hudson patiently explained, "just-ice served warm would be just-water." The landlady grinned as she exited the room.

A stillness settled on the room as the men deepened their repose, enjoying the warmth from the hearth. The doctor, stirred, "I, for one, am thankful for this season to remember the friends and family that warm our lives." He raised a glass.

"To friends," the three men murmured in agreement.

"Without you, Holmes," Watson chuckled, "I would be Holmeless."

"A touch! A distinct touch! Holmes laughed. "You are developing an unexpected pun-y humour, Watson. One I must learn to guard against."

The three men basked in the mirth of the season.

~o~

"A touch! A distinct touch!" cried Holmes. "You are developing a certain unexpected vein of pawky humour, Watson, against which I must learn to guard myself.

Holmes in The Valley of Fear, ACD