Day 4 prompt: Snowball fight


Feeling slightly depressed, John left Sherlock to his investigating and wandered to the outside of the house. Sherlock had been in a mood all day and with the clipped conversation since arriving at the crime scene a while ago, it was clear that Sherlock didn't want him around. He'd been snapped at back at the flat too so John wondered why he even followed Sherlock to the crime scene. He hated it when Sherlock's mood began to influence his own.

John stepped out the front door and spotted the homeowner's young son in the fenced-in yard playing in the snow. It looked like the boy was trying to build a snowman. He sat down on the porch steps and watched.

The boy looked up from the pile of snow in his hands and spotted John. "Excuse me sir, would you like to help me build my snowman? I can't get it as big as I'd like by myself."

With nothing else to occupy his time, John stood up and went out to the yard. If anything, it'd get his mind off Sherlock. "Sure." He began helping the boy make the base of the snowman. "My name's John. What's yours?"

"Timmy. I'm six."

"Well it's nice to meet you Timmy."

The two worked in silence for about one minute when Timmy plopped his handful of snow on the base and stood staring at John. "Do you have kids?"

"Nope," John answered while he shaped the base into more of a ball. "I think we're ready to build the snowman's middle." John looked from the snowman to Timmy. "I'll be right back. Keep on building."

John returned with a step stool he spotted by the kitchen sink when they first arrived at the house. He placed it in front of the snowman right in the center. "Here. This should help you reach higher."

"Thank you," Timmy said shyly but with a wide smile.

"So have you written your letter to Santa Claus yet?"

"Uh huh. I asked him for a bike, a video game, and a jigsaw puzzle."

"Well I hope you get everything you've asked for. You've been a good boy all year, right?"

"Yep." Timmy stood on the step stool and jumped up to add snow on top. As he came down, he missed the step and began to fall to the ground. John caught him before he could hit the ground.

"Be careful, Timmy." He made sure the boy was steady on his feet. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said shakily.

"Good. Let's get this snowman finished." John formed the middle into more of a ball shape as Timmy added snow.

After a while, John noticed Timmy stopped adding snow to the pile. John turned around and saw Timmy staring at the ground with a big frown on his face. "What's wrong?"

Timmy looked up with tears pooling in his eyes. "I don't have a daddy. I want a daddy to build snowman with like this forever."

John was at a complete loss. He walked over to Timmy and knelt down in the snow taking the boy's small hands into his own. "I know you feel sad that you don't have a daddy. But you do have a mommy who loves you very much. I bet if you asked her, she'd build snowmen with you."

Timmy shook his head vigorously. "She always tells me she doesn't like snow."

John's shoulders dropped as he thought of something else to say. "Well, have you ever asked her to build a snowman with you?"

"No," he said quietly.

"Then you should ask her." John brushed his gloved hands over Timmy's cheeks. "Stop those tears and let's have some fun." He stood up, walked a few feet away from Timmy and scooped a small handful of snow into his hands. "Let's have a snowball fight."

Timmy's face lit up. "Really? I've never had one before."

"Well, we're definitely fixing that right now." He set the ball on the ground and began making another one. Before he had even finished rolling it into a ball, he was hit in arm with a rather small snowball. "That's it. Just make them a little bigger." John finished rolling the ball and threw it at Timmy. "Like this."

Three minutes later both had huge grins on their faces and a mound of snowballs ready for attack. Snowballs were flying everywhere, but never really hitting them. A minute later John dived behind the half snowman as he began getting pelted by snowballs with some hitting him pretty hard. He peaked around the snowman and spotted Timmy bent over the ground gathering snow and Sherlock throwing the snowballs. "Hey," John yelled. "That's not fair."

"Of course it is, John." Sherlock threw a rather large snowball near where he estimated John's head to be. "It's payback for leaving me in there by myself."

"You didn't need, or even want, me in there." John combined two of his small snowballs into a large one now that he was aiming for Sherlock.

"That was definitely not the case."

"And how was I supposed to know." John threw the snowball and was met with a grunt a few seconds later. Happy to know his aim was still good, he bent down and began rolling another ball. "You sure acted like you didn't want me there."

While John and Sherlock were talking, Timmy crept to the opposite side of the snowman. "I win," he shouted happily and threw all his snowballs onto John.

John began laughing. "That you did." He stood up and began brushing the snow off himself.

"Timmy!" Timmy's mom called from the porch. "The policemen are done now. Why don't you come inside."

Timmy looked sadly at his snowman and then at John.

John bent down to Timmy. "You won't know unless you ask her."

"'kay." Timmy walked to the front of the snowman. "Mummy, will you help me finish my snowman first?"

"Of course. Let me get my gloves and coat first."

"See?" John said.

Timmy beamed at John then launched himself at him, giving him the biggest hug he could, even if it was only around John's middle. "Thank you, John. Thank you thank you thank you."

"You're welcome, Timmy." He glanced at Sherlock as he approached the two of them. "I have to go now, but have fun finishing up with your snowman."

"I will." Timmy bounded over to the front door to wait for his mom.

"Let's go, Sherlock. I need to get out of these wet clothes."

"And whose fault is that?" Sherlock asked as he led them down to the main road to catch a taxi.

"Yours, actually."

"Ah. Well…" Sherlock trailed off.

They reached the main road and within a minute were in a taxi on their way back to Baker Street.