It was Friday afternoon. The children would be home from school in about an hour.
Woody and Bo sat by the bed, sharing block seats. "How about Texas?" Woody asked, his arm slung causally around her shoulder.
"Doesn't it get awfully hot there?"
"I think it depends on where you are."
"I don't know. I'd like someplace cooler. Where it snows every Christmas."
"Okay," he agreed. "How about Oklahoma?"
She smiled wryly. "'Where the wind comes sweepin' down the plain?' Kind of dusty, don't you think? What about the Sierra Nevada? I've seen pictures in one of Andy's National Geographic magazines and it's beautiful."
"Near Coloma? All right then," he turned to face her, grasping her pretty white hand. "We'll build our ranch in the Sierra Nevada. We'll raise horses and sheep and maybe some cattle..."
She smiled dreamily at him through half lidded eyes. "Or we could always start our own vineyard."
"Yeah," Woody put his arm back around her shoulders. "We'll have a vineyard. And twelve kids."
Bo looked at him in surprise. "Twelve?"
"Sure. I like kids, you like kids..."
"I think you'd like making twelve kids, if you know what I mean." Woody blushed and laughed awkwardly. "Twelve kids. I don't want to be pregnant for one hundred and eighty months."
"Well, maybe you can have four or five sets of twins..." Bo gave him a look. Woody sighed. "All right. Eight kids."
"Three."
"Five."
"Three."
"All right, three." Bo leaned into him and he rested his chin on her bonnet. "Three kids and a vineyard."
"Sounds idyllic." By the end of the bed, far enough away so that they weren't really part of the conversation but close enough so that they could hear, Jessie and Buzz were playing the board game "Trouble".
Jessie continued, "While you two lovebirds are on your ranch, me and Buzz are gettin' a room on the Enterprise. With our own Holodeck."
"Ooh..." said Buzz, clearly liking this idea.
"The Enterprise?" repeated Woody.
"I say if yer goin' dream, dream big." She leaned over and began to push the "Pop-O-Matic" bubble with spitfire speed.
"Hey it's not your turn!" the Ranger protested.
"I know! I just love that sound! Pop, pop, pop, pop..." She grinned at him. "It looks kinda like you when you got your helmet up. Does your helmet pop, Buzzy?"
Woody chortled. "His wings do." Buzz shot him a death glare.
The Cowboy sighed and pulled Bo close. It was nice to fantasize, even it was about impossible things. Maybe in Toy Heaven...