FIC: The Weather Outside
Jan. 5th, 2009 09:44 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
romanticalgirl.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
picfor1000TITLE: The Weather Outside
AUTHOR: Laura Smith
PAIRING: Charlie, Dani
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: Do you know the difference between an adult and a child?
SPOILERS: None really, but it's best to know what's going on.
DISCLAIMER: Life and all the characters therein belong to people who are not me. I make no profit from this, I just like playing with them.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
inlovewithnight for the beta. Written for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
picfor1000 from this photo prompt
“Do you think we can make snow angels?”
Dani doesn’t look away from the road as the car tackles the ice-laden tracks. She’s grateful that they’re close enough to civilization, or at least farm life, that there are tracks in the road rather than just silt-fine snow. As it is, the car tends to skitter from one side to the other, coming dangerously close to the piles of plowed snow off to the sides. “No.”
“But there’s snow.”
“You want to lay on your ass in the freezing snow and flap your arms around like some sort of demented idiot, you go ahead. I’m not.”
“I bet you’d make a good angel, Reese.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t know me very well then.” She tightens her grip on the steering wheel and exhales roughly. “Why are we going here again?”
“I haven’t seen snow in a long time.”
“Look out the window, Crews.”
“Plus, I own this house. I thought I should see it.”
She takes a risk and looks at him out of the corner of her eye. “You have a huge house with no furniture.”
“I have furniture.”
“A couch and a dining room table don’t count as furniture.”
“I bought them in a furniture store. Plus, I have a chair.”
“You have an orange grove.”
“I like fruit.”
“And you have a house in the middle of nowhere.”
“It’s in the mountains.”
“Fine. You have a house in Mount Nowhere that you’ve never even seen.”
“I’ve seen pictures. Do pictures count? There was one of those tour things on the internet where someone walked around with the camera and did a video. Can you imagine that? Just walking around in a house without making any noise?”
“I think they turn the sound off when they make those.”
“Oh. That would make more sense.” Charlie nods and bites into an apple. “Honeycrisp. You want one?”
“No. I’m driving. In the snow.”
“It’s a nice day for it. The driving I mean, not the apple. Though the apple too. But it could be worse. I mean, it could be snowing some more, and then this wouldn’t be nearly as much fun. Well, for you. I think I’d like it if it was snowing again. What about a snowman? Would you make one of those?”
“What are you, ten? You were in prison for twelve years, Crews, not your entire childhood.”
“You know, it’s funny.” Crews’s voice gets that faraway tone that she recognizes from when he talks about prison or when it’s something he doesn’t quite understand. “I know that. You know that, so I must know that, right? But it’s not like that. You know what the difference between a child and an adult is, Reese?”
“The amount of time they do and if it goes on their permanent record.”
“No. Well, yes, okay, but the real difference is when a child sees something it’s new and full of wonder, even if they’ve seen it before, and an adult just keeps going like it’s not even there.”
“Trust me, I know the snow is there.”
“But instead of building snowmen and making snow angels, you’re complaining. See? Adult.”
“I’ll throw a snowball at you. Does that make me a child?”
“No, that means you have anger issues.” Crews takes another bite of his apple and watches the scenery as Dani adjusts her sunglasses against the glare off the snow. “A snowball fight could be fun though.”
They’re quiet for a while, only the sound of Crews and his apple filling the car. Dani tenses as she turns off one road to another, her hands tightening further on the wheel. “My dad used to take me up to the mountains when I was little.” She frowns at the road in front of her, at the past. “We’d go sledding and have snowball fights and all that. Then we’d get in the car, shivering from the cold, and he’d take us to a diner somewhere and we’d have hot chocolate with lots of whipped cream.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, but that was a long time ago, and now I prefer my hot chocolate with a shot in it.”
Crews keeps his gaze fixed out the window, which surprises her. Normally he looks her in the eye. “You’re not drinking again.”
“Not right this minute.” She relents after a moment, sighing softly. “No. But my first answer is the most…right. Minute by minute, day by day. All that meeting claptrap.” She glances over at him. “Did you think about snow in prison?”
“I thought about everything in prison.”
Dani nods, knowing that she’s edging in on dangerous territory. “My dad used to talk about you sometimes. Not in front of me, at least not on purpose, but he’d talk about you like you were guilty, but everything I heard about on the news was really about how you claimed you were innocent. And I thought about it, how I’d feel if it were me.” She doesn’t wait for an answer, not sure he’d give her one if she did. “I couldn’t decide what was worse – everyone I knew thinking I could do something like that or knowing there was someone out there who did it and got away with it.”
“It snowed once.” His voice isn’t quite right and she doesn’t interrupt. “While I was in prison. They let us all out into the yard so we could see it. Grown men, hardened criminals, playing around like children. Throwing snowballs and their heads tilted back to catch flakes on their tongue.”
“Yeah?”
“It was like during the first World War where both sides played soccer together on Christmas. At least until someone stabbed someone else and the snow turned red.” Charlie points to a driveway coming up on their left. “Turn in there. That’s the house.”
“Yeah,” Dani nods and does as he says, turning onto the packed snow. “I’ll make a snow angel.”
Charlie’s smile reaches his eyes. “I’ll make you hot chocolate.”
AUTHOR: Laura Smith
PAIRING: Charlie, Dani
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: Do you know the difference between an adult and a child?
SPOILERS: None really, but it's best to know what's going on.
DISCLAIMER: Life and all the characters therein belong to people who are not me. I make no profit from this, I just like playing with them.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to
inlovewithnight for the beta. Written for picfor1000 from this photo prompt“Do you think we can make snow angels?”
Dani doesn’t look away from the road as the car tackles the ice-laden tracks. She’s grateful that they’re close enough to civilization, or at least farm life, that there are tracks in the road rather than just silt-fine snow. As it is, the car tends to skitter from one side to the other, coming dangerously close to the piles of plowed snow off to the sides. “No.”
“But there’s snow.”
“You want to lay on your ass in the freezing snow and flap your arms around like some sort of demented idiot, you go ahead. I’m not.”
“I bet you’d make a good angel, Reese.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t know me very well then.” She tightens her grip on the steering wheel and exhales roughly. “Why are we going here again?”
“I haven’t seen snow in a long time.”
“Look out the window, Crews.”
“Plus, I own this house. I thought I should see it.”
She takes a risk and looks at him out of the corner of her eye. “You have a huge house with no furniture.”
“I have furniture.”
“A couch and a dining room table don’t count as furniture.”
“I bought them in a furniture store. Plus, I have a chair.”
“You have an orange grove.”
“I like fruit.”
“And you have a house in the middle of nowhere.”
“It’s in the mountains.”
“Fine. You have a house in Mount Nowhere that you’ve never even seen.”
“I’ve seen pictures. Do pictures count? There was one of those tour things on the internet where someone walked around with the camera and did a video. Can you imagine that? Just walking around in a house without making any noise?”
“I think they turn the sound off when they make those.”
“Oh. That would make more sense.” Charlie nods and bites into an apple. “Honeycrisp. You want one?”
“No. I’m driving. In the snow.”
“It’s a nice day for it. The driving I mean, not the apple. Though the apple too. But it could be worse. I mean, it could be snowing some more, and then this wouldn’t be nearly as much fun. Well, for you. I think I’d like it if it was snowing again. What about a snowman? Would you make one of those?”
“What are you, ten? You were in prison for twelve years, Crews, not your entire childhood.”
“You know, it’s funny.” Crews’s voice gets that faraway tone that she recognizes from when he talks about prison or when it’s something he doesn’t quite understand. “I know that. You know that, so I must know that, right? But it’s not like that. You know what the difference between a child and an adult is, Reese?”
“The amount of time they do and if it goes on their permanent record.”
“No. Well, yes, okay, but the real difference is when a child sees something it’s new and full of wonder, even if they’ve seen it before, and an adult just keeps going like it’s not even there.”
“Trust me, I know the snow is there.”
“But instead of building snowmen and making snow angels, you’re complaining. See? Adult.”
“I’ll throw a snowball at you. Does that make me a child?”
“No, that means you have anger issues.” Crews takes another bite of his apple and watches the scenery as Dani adjusts her sunglasses against the glare off the snow. “A snowball fight could be fun though.”
They’re quiet for a while, only the sound of Crews and his apple filling the car. Dani tenses as she turns off one road to another, her hands tightening further on the wheel. “My dad used to take me up to the mountains when I was little.” She frowns at the road in front of her, at the past. “We’d go sledding and have snowball fights and all that. Then we’d get in the car, shivering from the cold, and he’d take us to a diner somewhere and we’d have hot chocolate with lots of whipped cream.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, but that was a long time ago, and now I prefer my hot chocolate with a shot in it.”
Crews keeps his gaze fixed out the window, which surprises her. Normally he looks her in the eye. “You’re not drinking again.”
“Not right this minute.” She relents after a moment, sighing softly. “No. But my first answer is the most…right. Minute by minute, day by day. All that meeting claptrap.” She glances over at him. “Did you think about snow in prison?”
“I thought about everything in prison.”
Dani nods, knowing that she’s edging in on dangerous territory. “My dad used to talk about you sometimes. Not in front of me, at least not on purpose, but he’d talk about you like you were guilty, but everything I heard about on the news was really about how you claimed you were innocent. And I thought about it, how I’d feel if it were me.” She doesn’t wait for an answer, not sure he’d give her one if she did. “I couldn’t decide what was worse – everyone I knew thinking I could do something like that or knowing there was someone out there who did it and got away with it.”
“It snowed once.” His voice isn’t quite right and she doesn’t interrupt. “While I was in prison. They let us all out into the yard so we could see it. Grown men, hardened criminals, playing around like children. Throwing snowballs and their heads tilted back to catch flakes on their tongue.”
“Yeah?”
“It was like during the first World War where both sides played soccer together on Christmas. At least until someone stabbed someone else and the snow turned red.” Charlie points to a driveway coming up on their left. “Turn in there. That’s the house.”
“Yeah,” Dani nods and does as he says, turning onto the packed snow. “I’ll make a snow angel.”
Charlie’s smile reaches his eyes. “I’ll make you hot chocolate.”
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