My girlfriend requested ice skating and a New Years kiss. I know the winter holiday special is late, but I need more inspiration! Hopefully I can update more in the future. Thanks for reading!

Christmas

"This is ridiculous, I won't do it." Sherlock sulked, the usually tall and powerful looking detective was currently cowering in the snow. He was kneeling, regarding John with a look of pure annoyance. John knew the look was only there to hide the detective's embarrassment and unease with the situation, so he ignored it.

"Come on, it's not that hard." John gestured to the detective. The pair of them were out in the countryside this holiday season, much to John's annoyance Sherlock had taken a small case far from London despite the impending holidays. Now that the little murder was tied up, John realized he didn't mind being away from everyone so much. Though he loathed to admit it, Sherlock's solitary ways came in handy around this stressful time. He at least enjoyed a break from Harry and her habitual holiday drunkness.

Of course this little ice skating excursion was still a sort of revenge, even if John didn't mind leaving London for the holidays he did mind spending Christmas Eve with a corpse. So once he learned that Sherlock wanted nothing to do with the frozen lake outside their current lodgings, he immediately purchased two pairs of ice skates in town and demanded that Sherlock join him.

"It doesn't matter how difficult it is. I'm refusing based on it's juvenile uselessness." Sherlock rolled his eyes, still avoiding standing on his skates. He'd already tripped twice trying to walk and had had to lean on John half the way to the lake.

"Not everything has to be useful." John sighed.

"I'd prefer if things were." Sherlock sneered. "I deal with enough of your pointless activities, wasn't it enough coming to your birthday party this year? I had to talk to so many people, your friends really are quite idiotic."

"Yeah, okay that's nice." John rolled his eyes. "What I'm getting here is that the great Sherlock Holmes is too scared to try a little skating."

Sherlock tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. John knew how vain the detective was, and he wasn't afraid to use that to his benefit.

"I'm not frightened." Sherlock scoffed.

"Coward." John crossed his arms over his chest. "How disappointing."

Sherlock's face actually twitched and he lurched forward, stumbling rather than walking towards the ice. He took a tentative step onto it and was dismayed when his skates slid forward without him, causing him to fall backwards rather ungracefully. John tried not to laugh, covering his mouth with a hand but still the chuckle slipped out. Sherlock rewarded the laugh with a baleful glare.

"Here, up you go." John pulled the detective to his feet and then interlocked their arms, taking Sherlock's hand in his own. "It's easier this way. Come on." John glided forward with ease, his balance impeccable. Both of Sherlock's hands flew to John's arm, and he grabbed it in a tight hold. He had to bend over slightly to use the smaller man for support, so he looked rather undignified hanging off of John.

"Don't be so stiff." John laughed, and he picked up the speed a bit. Sherlock made a sound like a dog that had got it's tail caught in the door and fell again, this time onto his knees. He winced and attempted to stand again, rubbing his knees absentmindedly.

"This is absurd." He spat.

"Let me lead you. Come on it's not too hard." John took Sherlock's hands and spun about so that they were facing each other. He moved backwards slowly, pulling Sherlock along. The detective was still stiff with fear and glared at John, but he slowly warmed up to the movement. The pair came quite close at one point, their breath fogging in a singular cloud. John stopped and Sherlock did as well though with a bit more arm flailing involved.

"See? You've got the hang of it." John smiled.

"Well I still don't see the point." Sherlock grumbled, though inside he was already wondering if he could always hold John's hand while they skated. Surely...that was a good enough reason to put up with this absurd and horrendous winter activity...

New Years

"Weren't you going out with some friends?" Sherlock asked. The detective sat in his chair with his knees drawn up to his chest, his head resting on his knees and giving him the over all look of some odd bird of prey.

"Nah, I didn't really feel like going out this year. Too crowded." John replied as he walked out of the kitchen into the sitting room, a bottle of champagne and two glasses in his hands. "I'll just stay at home and deal with you."

"Hmm." Sherlock grunted, not overly concerned with John's social life. New Years was not an important holiday in Sherlock's mind (though then again there weren't many important holidays in his opinion) it was just another of humanity's attempts at making sense of time by marking it down with dates and calendars. He would spend his New Years just as he spent every other work-less day: thinking, experimenting and perhaps reading. John had gotten him a rather interesting book for Christmas, and though he'd read it already he felt an itch to reread it again.

"Here." John set a glass of champagne on the side-table next to Sherlock's preferred armchair. John expected the night to be quiet, a strange change from the usual hanging out at the pub with friends and making all sorts of noise when midnight came. He didn't quite know why he was staying home this year, it was just...he rather enjoyed his solitary Christmas with Sherlock. Sure he had been an awful sod the whole time but there were a few wonderful moments. Ice skating, walking quietly through the snow, hell Sherlock had even remembered what he'd wanted for Christmas. Maybe spending a quiet New Years with him wouldn't be so bad.

The two sat in silence, downing a few glasses of champagne while John watched tv and Sherlock sorted through his mind palace.

"So..." John broke through the quiet. "Got any plans for the new year?"

"I don't see why this year will be different from any other..." Sherlock grumbled, not bothering to open his eyes.

"Well you know some people try to change for the better." John sighed. "Though I doubt you know anything about that."

"It's a pointless tradition and a futile one." Sherlock sighed, opening his eyes and rising from his chair so he could pace about the way he always did when he lectured John on something. "People see the rising of a new year and it makes them sentimental. They suddenly think there's hope for a big change in their life. If they really wanted to change for the better they'd have stopped having affairs, eating too much and gotten out of their pointless job already."

"Well some people really do achieve their goals!" John countered.

"There's always an exception to the rule, that doesn't make the exception or the reasoning behind it any less idiotic." Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Alright. Forget I asked." John raised his hands in surrender, and poured another glass of champagne. He'd better get really drunk if he was dealing with this kind of Sherlock tonight.

"Why do you ask?" Sherlock narrowed his eyes, curious. "Do I need to change?"

"No, no. Well, that's up for debate." John shrugged. "I don't think so at least."

Sherlock considered the idea, walking around the room with his hands clasped behind his back. Then he nodded, seeming to accept it. He took his glass of champagne and joined John on the couch. "And what about you, do you plan on making a goal for the new year?"

"Me?" John shook his head and sighed. "I don't think so, no. I guess it is a sort of stupid idea."

"You even admit it." Sherlock took a sip of champagne. "You're such a confusing man, John Watson."

"You just confuse me." John admitted, then coughed slightly realizing there could be a second meaning to that. He quickly changed the topic of conversation. Two thirds of the bottle and a couple hours later the two had abandoned the idea of new year's resolutions and were instead discussing Lestrade's recent appearance in the news following a case that Sherlock had solved for him. John just barely caught the time on his watch, 11:59.

"One minute to midnight." He declared.

"I can hardly contain my excitement." Sherlock replied sarcastically.

"Well I suppose it's not exciting to someone like you, but there are some of us that get kisses at midnight." John jested, elbowing the detective playfully.

"Waste of time." Sherlock growled, though he couldn't quite convince himself that it was. How odd. He was feeling strangely warm all over, and dizzy from the champagne. He couldn't quite take his eyes off John and memories of their ice skating trip were doing figure eights in his head.

"I figured you'd say that." John snorted.

"We could try..." Sherlock suggested slowly, not quite sure of what he was saying. John made a choking noise, and Sherlock felt his heart sink as he realized that maybe John wasn't quite so open to the idea.

"Well...we certainly...could try." John chuckled slightly. "I mean, we would't...would we?"

Clocks were striking midnight all throughout the city, and Sherlock shrugged slightly leaning forward towards John. His voice grew deeper in that way that John found thrilling, and his pupils expanded. "Why not?"

Their lips brushed lightly against each other, a chaste kiss. Then they grew more desperate. John found himself practically laying on top of Sherlock, who had turned bright red and was having trouble-it seemed-keeping up.

"Sorry...bad?" John started to scold himself for being a drunk idiot and getting mixed up in this, but then Sherlock shook his head.

"It was...it was very good. Good...just fast." The detective was still blushing, and John realized this could be quite possible the most romantic encounter Sherlock had ever had. No wonder he was so overwhelmed. Well...there was a way to give him more experience.

"Come here." He chuckled, pulling Sherlock in closer and kissing him again.