Author's Note: It's so funny that this was suggested, because this is my first year living in a snowy climate, and on Friday it snowed for the first time :D So, yeah, I was excited, okay? I haven't actually seen real snow since I was little, which was forever ago, so… Can you really blame me? Anyway, in honor of my first real encounter with winter, I decided to use LeoLuver's prompt (again). I'm not entirely happy with how it turned it out, but whatever. I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think! -Emmy
On a side note, "Sophia" (or the original version of it) means wisdom in Ancient Greek.
9. Snow
A little girl with blond curls and bright green eyes sat at the living room window, looking eagerly outside. She pressed her nose and fingers against the cold glass, leaving smudges on the usually spotless surface. Her mother, a young woman in her late twenties with the same golden curls, simply smiled indulgently and ruffled the girl's hair.
They sat together for a while, the little girl constantly squirming and pointing at things, babbling excitedly.
The woman glanced at her watch, obviously waiting for something. She sighed, pulling the toddler onto her lap and stroking her hair in an attempt to quiet her. The little girl squirmed for a while before finally yawning and settling down. She snuggled into her mother and quickly fell into a deep, sweet sleep.
The woman sat back and relaxed, resigned to letting the girl sleep for a while as they waited. She was beginning to drift off herself when she saw something that caught her eye: several small fluffy flurries of white crystals, drifting lazily past the window. The woman smiled.
"Sophia," she said gently, watching as her daughter stirred. "It's snowing."
Sophia groggily blinked around the room, instantly awake and jumping around when she registered this new development. She reached toward the window as though she was trying to grab a handful of little flakes through the glass, smiling a small child's smile of absolute delight.
"Look, Mommy! It's so pretty!" she exclaimed.
The woman chuckled, shaking her head, just as she heard a car pulling into the driveway. She stood and glanced out of the window, confirming her suspicions. She rolled her eyes as he walked into the house, grinning widely.
"Daddy!" Sophia shrieked excitedly, running to meet him. He knelt and gave her a big hug, picking her up and spinning her in the air while she laughed.
"Daddy, it's snowing! Did you see?"
He put her down and looked her in the eye seriously, still kneeling.
"I know, Soph. I told you I would make it snow for you, didn't I?"
She giggled, crossing her arms and shaking her head.
"Daddy, you can't make it snow! Mommy always says that your brain is full of seaweed," Sophia said solemnly, almost sternly, a mirror image of her mother.
The man exchanged glances with the woman, who was standing to the side with an amused expression on her face. He raised an eyebrow at her, which she answered with a smirk and a shrug. He shook his head and turned his attention back to his daughter, who was still looking at him disapprovingly.
"Well, Soph, I guess you caught me," he sighed theatrically. "It wasn't really me. You're just too clever for your own good. You must get that from your mother."
Sophia laughed and grinned, giving him a kiss on the cheek before running to the back door and starting to go out.
"Don't forget your scarf and hat, Sophia—your mittens, too," her mother called, making sure that she was bundled up before letting her out into the cold.
The parents stood at the kitchen window, watching their daughter play, running around with the dog—inexplicably named Mrs. O'Leary, for reasons that most people couldn't fathom—and making snow angels happily.
The women glanced over, raising an eyebrow at her husband for a moment. He met her gaze, grinning.
"Percy, please don't tell me that you did what I think you did."
"Well, that depends what you think I did…" he answered evasively.
She rolled her eyes—she seemed to do that a lot around him—and pursed her lips.
"You knowperfectly well what I think you did, and I'm really starting to worry that you actually did it."
"Well, so what if I did?"
She exhaled slowly.
"You're saying that you did?"
"Did what?"
"Percy—"
"Fine, Annabeth yes; I pulled a few favors with some friends. It's not a big deal."
"You pulled a few favors with some friends? If by friends you mean gods, then…"
"Well, yeah," he said as though it were obvious. "How else would I get it to snow in New York City in September?"
She rubbed her forehead tiredly, not able to resist a small smile.
"You spoil your daughter."
"Hey, she's yours, too."
"You are such a seaweed brain, you know that?"
"Oh yeah—always will be. You know you love it."
"Whatever, Seaweed Brain."
And they both watched their daughter play in the September snow with smiles on their faces.
