Chapter one: Night Time Navigation

"I can't believe we missed the bloody bus. The only bus there is and we missed the damn thing! You know it's going to be freezing tonight, don't you?"

John was severely pissed off. Sherlock had dragged him out on a wild goose chase across the countryside on New Year's Eve. He could've been home watching telly with Mrs. Hudson or having a beer and celebrating with Lestrade and Mike Stamford. Instead he was forced to join Sherlocks ridiculous pursuit. Sherlock had no problems. He didn't mind the cold, it helped him think. If the man they were after hadn't been picked up by that black van they would've caught him. There were only two ways this was going to end. Either Sherlock would figure out where they went and head after them, or Lestrade would find the man. Maybe Scotland Yards' incompetence would be lifted just long enough to catch him. He was vaguely aware John lagged behind. Sherlock knew John was looking forward to a nice night off but then there was the opportunity of the exciting game that unravelled in the last couple of days. How could he refuse. After all, he wanted it as much as Sherlock himself did.

"There really is no use talking to you right now is there. Do you even know where we're going, because we are in the middle of nowhere, no light to be seen anywhere."

The only sounds were their shoes hitting the frozen grass. Every step they took caused the grass to look dishevelled, the untouched grass looking more pristine than before. John sighed, he was really getting angry with Sherlock now. If only he'd pay some attention to his only friend, then maybe, just maybe, he would actually have a friend left by the time they got home. If they ever made it home, that is. John leaped forward and pulled Sherlocks arm to make the man face him.

"What, John! I'm thinking. I know exactly where we're going and that is north-north-east, navigating by using that bright little sparkle in the sky called a northstar. And you John, should've known that since you had to learn night time navigation skills as part of your army training. So next time you pull me out of my mind palace make sure you have something valuable to say!"

Sherlock didn't mean to be so harsh but he was THIS close to cracking the location of the suspect but now that John pulled him out of his own mind he needed to retrace the steps again.

"You know what, you're a twat Sherlock. Have fun walking home by yourself. I'm done."

John was livid and he knew that he would punch Sherlock if he didn't calm down. He turned on the spot and walked back to a fallen tree that would make do as a resting place for the time being.

Sherlock didn't fully understand what just happened. He fell out at John, but he knew better than to disturb him when he was in his mind palace. Lives usually depended on it. Why was it such a problem now all of a sudden? Surely it wasn't the cold. Sherlock kept walking away from John. In his mind he went over how John had acted before they went out. First happy, content even? Then slightly annoyed at having to go outside. But John loved a good chase so that wasn't what set him off. The suspect got away and then it all seemed to spiral out of control. The limp that plagued the doctor from time to time wasn't anywhere to be found all day, but that had been indoors. Did his leg act up in the cold? Sherlock wasn't sure and made a mental note to check that later. But John couldn't have been cold in that ridiculously large parka. What else was he wearing then? His old jeans, sturdy shoes. No problem there. A long sleeved shirt under one of his trademark brown knitted jumper and his black leather patch jacket.

"Oh!" Sherlock exclaimed as he finally realised. He turned around and ran back to John as fast as he could.

All John needed was to rest his leg for a bit longer. He shivered involuntarily as he fought the cold. The jacket he was wearing didn't keep him warm on this cold night. He stretched his leg while his teeth chattered. Unable to relax he fidgeted with the bark of the fallen tree. Slowly, he seemed to relax. In all actuality, his limbs just got too stiff to fidget any longer. His face was drained of colour but the anger he felt for Sherlock still roared inside him.

When Sherlock finally made it back to the tree he saw his friend sitting on the forest floor against the tree. His lips were utterly blue and he was dangerously rigid. Still, when John lifted his head towards Sherlock he could see he hadn't calmed down.

"Are you too stubborn to move or are you planning on freezing to death?"

"Suicide is your expertise not mine."

John spat out the words. Sherlock winced ever so slightly. It was still a sore wound. Logical, yet so annoying. He took his long coat off and walked up to John.

"What the hell are you doing you'll freeze your head off."

"As opposed to what you are doing now?"

Sherlock draped John in his coat. Sherlock kneeled down and straddled the smaller man. He opened the black leather patched jacket and settled in, pulling his own coat around them both. John didn't even bother to put up a fight. Sherlock tried to call Lestrade a couple of times but he didn't answer his phone. He knew John needed to get out of the cold as soon as possible. Sharing body heat would not be enough. Slowly, John started to shiver again. At least that was a good sign.

"If my arms s-start work-king again-n, I'll p-p-unch you in the face for dragging me out here tnight."

"Nonsense John! You'll be fine."

A glimpse of doubt sprang across his face. Thankful John couldn't have caught that he stood up. Sherlock helped John sit up on top of the rough tree and started shivering too.

"Sh-Sherlock. Take. Coat. Take your c-coat."

Sherlock felt his phone buzz. The display said it was Mycroft. He really didn't feel like talking to his brother but he needed to get John away from here. Back home where it was warm and safe. Sherlock answered Mycroft and spoke quickly. Mycroft send a car over. All he needed to do was get John to the road. Which was close enough but would certainly be a strain.

"Let's just hope Mycroft send out a competent driver this time."

John needed to be out of the cold night air as soon as possible. Back home, where it was warm and safe. Sherlock took John's pulse.

"You're doing much better already."

He was worried but put up a smile anyway. John knew he needed to get warm, he pulled Sherlock closer until he could easily wrap his arms around him. Sherlock adjusted his coat along the doctors' shoulders. It had slipped off slightly. He was getting rather cold himself by now. He knew the roles would reverse if he didn't stay warm himself. He put his arms around John and for a couple of minutes, they stood in this slightly awkward embrace in silence.

John knew the car would arrive soon. He wasn't warm and he knew that his limp would get the better of him when they started walking again but they had to go. He rather enjoyed having Sherlock so close and didn't want to end the embrace just yet. He lifted his head and watched the stars for a bit. It was a beautiful night, had it not been so bloody cold! Reluctantly he unlocked his arms from Sherlock's waist. The longer man seemed to have been dozing off, probably sunken back into his mind palace, hardly aware of his surroundings. John stood up a little wobbly. He pulled Sherlock's coat off his own shoulders and draped it around the tall man.

"Come on genius, let's get home, okay?"

Sherlock didn't say anything. The two of them started walking in the direction of the road again. John with his limp, Sherlock supporting his weight in silence. It was strenuous, John tripped over a branch once and ripped his jeans. Sherlock silently laughed at the doctor's display of colourful vocabulary. After half an hour they finally reached the road. The car should be here any minute now.

"Incompetence, yet again. Mycroft needs new staff!" Sherlock spat out the words. It was the first thing he had said in a while. Worry crossed his face, he was no longer able to compose a cool expression.

"How is the leg? Do you need my coat again, I can do fine without it."

John shook his head, unable to speak through his chattering teeth. A pair of headlights came down the road. Sherlock visibly relaxed again. John would be fine. They would be fine. "Sh-Sherlock?" He turned towards John, a questioning look upon his face. The car stopped in front of them.

"Happy New Year." In the distance fireworks went off as the two men stepped into the warm car, grinning broadly.

A/N: The lay-out really bugged me so I updated it. I also fixed a couple of spelling and grammatical errors. A huge thank you to capricorn5 for pointing them out to me and helping me out in general! :)