Doctor Who is owned by BBC and Supernatural is owned by CW. Just borrowing.
Wrote this for a friend.
-Panda
Her tea was getting cold.
She knew that, but she couldn't bring herself to stand up and go back inside.
She rubbed her hands together, crossed her arms, and leaned forward. Her breaths came in clouds in front of her face and she had lost feeling in the tip of her nose a long time ago. But still, she sat and she watched.
It was snowing.
Not a heavy downpour of flakes, the clouds themselves falling down to earth. Also not a light dusting of snow, the earth being frosted in a powder sugar covering. It was somewhere in between. Light and silent, but thick, it softly and deftly covered the world in a blanket of cold, white velvet.
And she couldn't stop watching it.
She had been gazing for a while, and the sky had transformed several times now, revealing a palette of colors just for her. Now it was a soft yellow-gold, barely breaking through the wall of iron-grey clouds that emptied themselves on to the frozen world below. The light glinted off the small icicles clinging to the gutter, scattering sun droplets across the wood at her feet.
She pulled her sleeves down over her hands and leaned her elbows on her knees, frozen fingers splayed against her frozen cheeks. The yellow deepened to an orange, and the snow kept falling.
She was so mesmerized by the silence and the softness, she didn't even hear the creak of the screen door, or the soft mention of her name. She did, however, notice the gentle kiss placed against her forehead, and the laugh issued at her ensuing jump. She knew that kiss, and loved that laugh.
"Hi," she grinned sheepishly, looking up into a pair of beautiful hazel eyes.
"Hi Rosie," Dean said, handing her one of the two steaming mugs in his hand, before settling down next to her, and wrapping a strong arm around her shoulders.
She relaxed into him, head against his shoulder, fingertips gaining feeling against the warm ceramic.
"You've been out here a while," Dean said softly, rubbing small circles into her shoulder, and she hums softly in agreement, "Wanted to make sure you hadn't frozen to death."
"I was just watching the snow." She said, equally softly. It felt like a betrayal, somehow, to speak loudly in the silent, blanketed world.
"Have you never seen snow before Rosie?" He said, half teasing.
She shrugged, sipped her tea, and let the minty flavor flood her taste buds.
"Rose, have you seen snow before?" He asked again, more seriously this time.
She made an exasperated noise in the back of her throat. "Yes, I've seen snow. Just not like this." She whispered the last part in reverence, eyes still fixed on the falling fractals.
His eyes were fixed on her, filled with love and questions,"What do you mean not like this? Snow is snow."
She shook her head, lips quirked up in a half smile. She turned towards him, eyes finally meeting his again.
"The only snow I know is dirty and wet and pathetic and disappears in a matter of minutes," She turned back towards the scene, golden brown eyes soft and nostalgic, "This is something else. This is... Is magical. It's another world. A world where we're all by ourselves, just us, nothing can get to us."
He gazed at her throughout the quiet speech, lips pulled up in a soft smile. At the end he pulled her closer, lips pressed into the soft sunshine of her hair. "Okay. I think I get it."
"Really?" She asked, turned towards him again.
"No," He admitted, "I don't really do the sit still by myself thing. But I like that you like it. And I like that I can sit here and use you as a space heater while you like it."
She laughed at that, head thrown back. "Okay. I can live with that compromise."
He grinned, and leaned forward to press a kiss against her cheek.
"Y'know what else I think is absolute magic?" She asked cheekily, tongued tucked into the corner of her smile the way she knew he loved.
"Mmm, what's that Rosie?" He asked, eyes fixed on her smile, on that little bit of bubblegum pink tongue.
"You."
The kiss tasted like mint, and he chased down that little bit of bubblegum pink tongue. And the world turned quietly, and her tea got cold, like she knew it would. But she didn't care.
They were watching the snow.