"John, you're doing it wrong!" Sherlock exclaimed, shoving his friend out of the way so he could round the snow better.
"Am not!" John shot back, blowing out an angry cloud of steam into the frosty air.
Sherlock only rolled his eyes; of course John was doing it wrong, anybody could see that. But he allowed his friend to elbow back in front of the partial snowman with the next ball, making the chest.
"When's Mycroft coming to get us?" John asked, batting Sherlock's hands away and fixing the second ball himself so that it sat straight. Sherlock shrugged.
"I don't know, Mummy said to be home by dark, though," Sherlock said. He didn't really care where Mycroft was, he wasn't any fun since he started going away to school. All he wanted to do was read his boring books, books that weren't even interesting; politics and government and all sorts of boring things. No, Sherlock would much rather spend his time out in the snow with John, even if John was a little silly.
"Good. Mycroft's lame," John said seriously, bending down to form the snowman's head. Sherlock laughed a bit and bent over to help the struggling John push the head on top of the snowman. John took a step back, and frowned. "He needs a face."
Sherlock reached into his coat pockets. The coat had been Mycroft's before he got boring, so it swam on Sherlock's tiny body, but the pockets were big and deep and useful.
"You're smart," John said, taking the coal and carrot Sherlock had just pulled out and sticking them into the snowman. Sherlock grinned and pulled off his own scarf to put it around the snowman's neck. "And my hat!" John insisted, trying to put it on top. He couldn't reach. Sherlock took it from him, a little smug that even though John was older, Sherlock was still taller.
The kids stood back for a second, grinning at the snowman. He looked silly, with John's hat with the bobble and Sherlock's dark scarf and no arms, but Sherlock liked him.
"Hey, freak!" Sherlock turned, knowing who it was before he saw her. Sally came charging across the snow, her crony Anderson right behind her. Sherlock frowned.
"What do you want, Sally?" Sherlock asked, turning to straighten the scarf on the snowman so Sally couldn't see his face.
"Just wanted to see what the freak was doing," Sally said, putting her hands on her hips, showing off for Anderson's sake.
"I told you not to call him that," John cut in angrily. Sherlock tried to shake his head; it'd only make things worse if John tried to defend him.
"What're you gonna do about it then?" Sally demanded, turning on John. He stood there a moment, angry, but Sherlock knew he wouldn't do anything. John wouldn't hit a girl, no matter how mean she was to either of them. He was too nice.
"I'll tell Greg!" John threatened. Sally turned white. Greg was the oldest by two years and he was the only one in the neighborhood that could scare Sally into listening. Sally turned away angrily, muttering under her breath.
"Oops," she said as she walked away, shoving out a hand and knocking Sherlock into the snowman so that they both fell down. His eyes closed automatically and when he opened them again, it was to John, bending over Sherlock and the remains of their snowman.
John's hand was stuck out for Sherlock to grab; he hauled his friend up to his feet and helped dust the snow away from his coat.
"Sally's a jerk," John decided, picking up his hat and Sherlock's scarf. Sherlock nodded, allowing John to fix the scarf around his neck, even if it was a little wet from the snow.
"Yeah," Sherlock agreed, jamming John's hat onto the boy's head. "She really is."
John grinned at him for a moment. "Wanna go sledding?"