Hey, just wanted to let everyone know that I do have a new one-shot up called "Is This What It Felt Like" in case you didn't already. Please go check it out and tell me what you think! As always, reviews are 243% appreciated, even if it's just a quick "good job" so if you could comment that would be great! This is one of my favorites so far, so as always, enjoy!

~Sophia

25 Days of Christmas

OTP: Johnlock

Day 14: Ice Skating

John let out a light sigh as thundering food steps on the stairs warned him of Sherlock's excited approach.

"Grab your coat John, we're going out," the man announced as he entered the room.

"What? Where?" John asked, feeling a little more shocked than he thought he ought to be.

"Didn't I just say? Out John, out!" Sherlock said, swirling around the room as he searched for something, his long coat billowing around him.

John sighed again and shook his head, knowing that he would get no further explanation out of Sherlock, and if he did it was would be with a heavily annoyed and chastising tone and for now John would rather just avoid all that.

The blogger stood, grabbing his coat as Sherlock found whatever it was he was looking for with a pleased sound and slid it into his pocket. He whisked past John and raced down the steps and out the door without checking to see if John had followed.

Out on the curb of Baker Street, the consulting detective waved down a cab and climbed in, John following suit, unable to catch the address.

When they pulled into their destination, John still hadn't figured out what was going on and Sherlock wasn't dropping any clues, at least not ones he could pick up on. He stared at the ice rink in confusion, he hadn't heard of any cases involving such a location or anything related, so unless Sherlock knew something he didn't, which was more often than John cared to admit, he really had no clue what they were doing here.

"Hello," Sherlock said at the counter, where a man stood in a polo shirt, the wall lined with ice skates behind him. He gave their shoe sizes and slid two white pieces of paper towards him. The man checked both pieces with a blue marker before sliding them back to Sherlock who slid them back into his pocket. While the man stepped back to find their sizes, John tugged Sherlock to face him.

"Sherlock, what are we doing here?"

Sherlock gave him that look. The one that said, 'Really John? Sometimes I don't understand how you can be so stupid.'

"I thought it was obvious, John, we're ice skating," he answered, taking the skates from the man behind the counter and handing John his pair.

"Yes, I can see that, but why? I don't remember their being any cases where—"

"This isn't for a case John," Sherlock interrupted as he sat down on a bench and removed his shoes. Upon glancing up and seeing John's perplexed expression, he continued.

"Most people would consider this a fun past time. Mrs. Hudson got some tickets somehow, I don't really know, I wasn't really listening, but she gave them to me for you and I to go."

"You and I-," John clamped his mouth shut. He wasn't quite sure how to react. He didn't mind skating, actually, he rather enjoyed it. But ice skating, with Sherlock Holmes? If people didn't talk before…

"It's just ice skating John, no need to knot up your brain over it," Sherlock said, interrupting John's thoughts as he stood on the thin blades with perfect balance.

"I just never pictured you to like skating," John said, forcing his thoughts away from their previous subject.

"I don't mind it, though it has been many years, I am hoping not to make a complete and utter fool of myself."

John had to bite his tongue to keep the several snide remarks from forcing their way past his lips. Sherlock obviously caught the shift in expression, but didn't question John about it more than a slight raise in the eyebrow.

"But wouldn't it have been… better if we had given them to someone else? Molly perhaps, I'm sure she would enjoy skating," John said.

Sherlock let out a light sigh. "Somehow Mrs. Hudson managed to get our names on the tickets, we are the only ones able to use them. That woman can be such a bother." The last line was mumbled under his breath but John still managed to catch it. "I thought it best we used them instead of letting them lay to waste, Mrs. Hudson did seem very adamant about their use."

Now that John could believe and a small smile played at his lips as he tried to imagine the scene.

A few minutes later they were on the ice, it was somewhat awkward at first, neither of them used to the situation, but after a while, they both started to relax and actually enjoy themselves. It helped that both of them were fairly good skaters, at least good enough to not be falling on their bums every time they pushed a foot forward. For the next couple of hours they casually skated in circles around the rink, neither of them really talking as it was hard to make conversation with a man like Sherlock Holmes who was in his head more than he was in the real world.

Once they had thoroughly exhausted themselves, they turned in their skates and got coffee as they headed home.

Back at the flat, they hung up their coats and Sherlock went to start the fire.

A disapproving sound had John's head turning in the taller man's direction. "Seems we are out of matches, I'll head down and ask Mrs. Hudson if she has any," he stated and was gone before John could respond.

John's eyes trailed over to land on Sherlock's coat and he stared at the long Belstaff until curiosity got the better of them and with one more quick glanced at the stairs, he slid his hand into the pocket and closed his fingers around the tickets. Pulling them out, he read them over several times, and flipped them over, mildly confused.

They were as Sherlock had explained, tickets to the ice skating rink in which they had just spent the day enjoying, but there was something odd about them. Something was missing and John couldn't understand why Sherlock would lie about such a thing. He read them over a fourth time, but it was certain.

There were no names of any kind on the tickets.