Reaver's Servants

The Snowball Effect

The snow fell softly over Millfields, blanketing everything from trees to houses. Bower Lake had completely frozen over and looked quite majestic with the snow covered trees lining the banks and the frozen waterfall standing guard nearby. It was early morning and the children of Millfields had already started playing on the frozen lake. The sounds of giggling echoed off the hills as the children ran about, tossing snowballs and building snowmen as their parents watched from indoors.

Along the overcast sky, smoke from chimneys could be seen with each cozy little home making Millfields look like a painting one found in a gift shop. It was almost too perfect to actually be real and it was only sun up (from what one could tell, anyway). As long as one ignored the struggled grunts of a man attempting to shovel the front walkway of Lakeview Manor, then it certainly was a perfect snow day.

"Come on, Hatch! Put your back into it!" Reaver shouted, bundled up in his fancy fur-lined leather jacket. Barry grunted loudly as he shoveled the walkway leading toward the front gate. Reaver rewrapped his scarf and took a deep breath as he carefully walked down the icy steps of his home. "Don't you just love the snow, Hatch?" Reaver asked joyously. Barry, who was still struggling to get the packed on ice and snow from under the front gate, didn't answer. "It's so invigorating and peaceful at the same time!"

The snow kept falling slowly, even as Reaver and Barry went back inside. It certainly was a lovely snow day. Inside, Beryl took Reaver's jacket and shook it off over the front porch. Barry took off his own jacket and sneezed loudly. At that point, Miss Sarah came into the foyer with a tray and two mugs.

"I figured you two would be cold, so I made some tea." Miss Sarah took the tray into the study and placed it down near Reaver's big chair. Reaver sat down and took his cup. "Is it still snowing outside, Mr. Reaver?" she asked, carefully handing a cup to Barry.

"It's still coming down a bit. I don't think it's going to let up. Miss Sarah, have Gordon pour some salt on the snow and ice near the front gate. My newspaper is buried somewhere under it and Hatch couldn't break through it to get it." Reaver lamented as he watched Barry fumble with his pipe. "Do be careful lighting that, Hatch."

As Miss Sarah left the study, Rosie walked in just as Barry sneezed. She grabbed the pipe before he could drop it and presented it to Reaver. "Mr. Reaver, I had to hang the laundry over the stoves to get them to dry, seeing as it's too cold to hang them up outside. If you find a sock in your soup later, don't panic." With a nod and an uninterested wave of his hand, Reaver left Rosie to it. Rosie bowed and left the study. Even in the snow, things were business as usual.

Reaver sat in his study as the fire crackled softly. Barry eventually brought in some things for him to look at regarding the factories and now Reaver found himself engrossed in work. The snow made it almost impossible for him to get to the factories today, so he decided to work from home. As Reaver went over certain schematics for a proposed new machine that separates bones from the body "painlessly", Reaver heard a thump on his study window. He turned around and saw nothing. He shrugged and went back to his work.

THUMP!

Reaver turned around and saw a snowball dissipating on his study window. With a huff, Reaver put his work away and got up, stomping over to the front door. He opened one of the front doors and was met by a small snowball being tossed in his face. Shaking off the snow, Reaver watched a group of children run away laughing. Gritting his teeth, Reaver went back inside. "Dirty little snow monkeys." He murmured, walking back toward the study. When a knock came at the door, Reaver decided not to wait for Barry and answered it. He opened it slowly and was met by a barrage of snowballs hitting him.

The front of Reaver's body was covered in snow. Before he could retaliate, the children ran off laughing again. Closing the door and turning around, Reaver let out a big puff of air mixed with snow. Willa, who saw the entire thing from the top of the steps, came to Reaver's aid with a towel. "Are you alright, Mr. Reaver?" she asked as the other servants piled into the foyer.

"Surely you jest, Little Bit. Because you obviously see I'm covered in cold, wet, snow!" Reaver shouted, tossing the towel back at Willa. Reaver shook the remaining snow out of his hair and went upstairs.

A little later, as Beryl was mopping up the melted snow in the foyer, Reaver descended down the stairs in his thickest white fur coat. "Good afternoon, Mr. Reaver. Watch your step, the floor is wet." Beryl chirped, getting out of Reaver's way.

Reaver ignored Beryl and simply cleared his throat. "Servants! Assembly in the foyer, s'il vous plait." He shouted.

As if by magic, the servants assembled in the foyer, in front of Reaver. "As you all know, it's snowing outside. Today is not a day to be cooped up inside. I've enjoyed the snow since I was a boy and I assume you all have too. Now, if you all finish your chores in a timely manner, you may join the merriment outside after lunch. Snowball fights, making snowmen, ice skating, etcetera, etcetera..." The servants looked at each other excitedly and bowed before their boss. "Hop to it, my dears! I want everything done in a timely manner! Do not skimp just to get it done sooner, I am a tough inspector as you know!"

After the chores were done, each servant ran to grab their respective coats, hats, and gloves. Reaver told them to stay in uniform, which meant the girls had to put on thicker stockings. As uncomfortable as they were, when the servants walked into the snow, they were thankful to have them on.

Reavie, being the pampered kitty that she was, could barely walk in the posh sweater and booties she was wearing. While it was Rosie's job to get her ready, Reavie never gave her a problem. Each servant had an agenda for the snow day. Miss Sarah had recently ordered a pair of ice skates when she heard snow was coming from the mountains and they had arrived a few days prior. Now, it was time to open the box.

Miss Sarah was the last one out of the manor. She presented her box and opened it to reveal brand new ice skates. "I had to special order these because the shop in town didn't have any left in my size. I can't wait to try them out!" Miss Sarah gleamed with happiness and ran toward the dock after closing the box again.

"Well, I think I might join her a little later. But first…" Reaver, putting his goggles on to shield his eyes from sun glare, filled his gloved hand with snow and patted it down. "…some naughty little children are about to find out why I am called the Hero of Skill…" Reaver chuckled evilly, leaving the front gate.

Willa and Beryl wasted no time preparing to make a snowman. Rosie sat nearby and watched. Not really one to join in such activities, Rosie still enjoyed sitting and watching the snow fall. Gordon, having been recruited with Barry to follow Reaver, found himself packing snow into snowballs. Reavie decided (in her kitty mind), to stay out of the way of Reaver's snowball war and perched herself near the maids.

"Oh, Reavie! You look so cute!" Willa squealed, picking up the cat. Reavie was wearing a thick sweater (she was a small cat, so it looked bigger than it actually was) and little booties on her feet. Reavie made it obvious she did not like these booties, but the ground was too cold for her to take them off. Her bow was made out of a thicker material, doubling as a scarf.

"WAAAHHH-CHOOO!"

Barry's sneeze could be heard for miles. "Quiet, Hatch!" Reaver shouted as the three men hid behind a snow covered wall. Reaver, not wearing his hat, peeked from their hiding spot and glared at the children playing in the snow. "Ahh, the enemy has their guard down. Gordon, how does our ammunition look?" Reaver asked.

Gordon, who had been put in charge of carrying a bucket of snowballs, looked over at their ammo and then back to Reaver. "Still snowball-like, Mr. Reaver." He answered, dryly.

"Good, good. Now, we must make this attack swift. Hand me the first snowball." Reaver held out his hand, feeling the cold wet snow through his glove. Reaver patted the snowball some more and straightened his goggles out. "Yes, build your snowman, you disgusting little waifs. For this winter belongs to Reaver…" Standing up, Reaver showed himself to the preoccupied children. "I'll teach you little heathens to throw snowballs at me!" With that, Gordon and Barry watched Reaver chase a group of children around the banks of the lake.

Barry kept a close eye on his boss as the children screamed and ran from him. "Surprisingly, not the strangest thing I've seen him do in public." Barry muttered, bringing his handkerchief close to his face. When Gordon heard Reaver call for more ammo, he carried the bucket toward Reaver's current position. Barry sat there, wanting nothing more than to sit under a blanket for the rest of the day. He looked up momentarily at the lake and saw Miss Sarah glide by on her new ice skates.

Not really paying attention to the snowball fight, Miss Sarah cascaded across the ice with a big smile on her face. She didn't know any impressive tricks, but she enjoyed ice skating either way. Some other villagers had already joined her on the ice, some skating circles around Miss Sarah. Miss Sarah looked up and waved to Barry, who sat on the stone wall near the shore. If she had been paying attention, Miss Sarah probably would have seen a couple of nobles skate out in front of her. Miss Sarah noticed them in time to swerve around and slip, falling on her bottom.

"Miss Sarah!" shouted Beryl as she and Willa finished packing a giant snowball. Beryl stood and ran for the frozen over lake. Neglecting that the ice was still somewhat wet, Beryl ran out and almost immediately lost her footing. As a seasoned contortionist, Beryl's life was all about balance; but a slippery slope always seemed to get the best of her. Leaning against the dock, Beryl regained her footing and started out for Miss Sarah again. Again, she started to slip and fell face first onto the ice.

Not wanting to see Beryl continuously hurt herself, Rosie got up from her spot and simply walked across the ice. Willa, who was having trouble balancing on the still somewhat frozen dock, made her way to Beryl and helped her up. They watched as Rosie simply walked across the ice, ignoring the traffic of skating nobles in her way. She bent down and helped Miss Sarah up, then made her way back toward the dock. Rosie sat back down in her spot near the nearly completed snowman.

"No one likes a show-off, Rosie." Willa scolded as she helped Beryl back toward the snowman. Rosie just shrugged and decided to help them make their snowman.

Reavie, having wondered off during the excitement, made her way toward the shores of the lake. Something caught her attention. A new smell in the air. She didn't like this new smell and she followed it with dedication. Some new smell has intruded on her turf and she was going to set it straight. Reavie followed the smell until she got to the bridge leading to the gazebo on the lake. Usually, she would see nobles drinking tea out there, but today it seemed empty (except for the owner of the new smell).

Her fur already frizzing up, Reavie cautiously approached the gazebo and got her claws ready. When she arrived, she looked up and down. She saw nothing out of the ordinary and decided to walk around the stone table in the middle of the gazebo. She walked the full circle and then sat down to rest. Above, she heard a soft shuffling sound. Before Reavie could react, an orange blur jumped down and faced her. This was the owner of the new smell and Reavie had found it!

In front of Reavie sat a scruffy looking orange cat, probably a little older than her. He wore nothing to protect himself from the cold, so it was obvious he was a stray. Where he came from, Reavie didn't care. She just wanted him gone.

"It's good, but it's missing something." Beryl mused as she, Willa, and Rosie finished their snowman. It was a pretty well done snowman, as far as snowmen went. It had two rocks for eyes and a carrot for a nose, along with string for a crooked smile. Willa sized up the snowman and walked around it a few times before an idea came to her. "It's naked!" she shouted. The girls glanced at the snowman and turned their heads. Beryl and Rosie nodded in agreement. "To be a proper snowman, he needs clothes. Not just regular clothes, but nice clothes. A snowman was expertly designed as this one deserves only the best. Mr. Reaver would agree if he were here helping us."

"By helping, I'm going to assume you mean watching us do all the work. But you're right, this snowman does need clothes." said Rosie, circling the snowman. As they did so, a snowball flew past them. It didn't hit any of them but it was noticeable. The girls looked in the direction the snowball came from.

With a jaunty laugh, Reaver reached for another snowball as he chased the children all over Millfields. Gordon stopped to rest against a tree. "I need to exercise more." He grumbled. He had never seen Reaver laugh so hard or enjoy the outdoors this much (except the time they went to the nudist colony). Reaver cantered up to Gordon, who gave him the ammo bucket. "We're about out, Sir. Maybe we should take a small break." Gordon said as he tried to catch his breath.

"Nonsense!" Reaver shouted. "We're just getting started!" Reaver started packing more snow into snowballs when he noticed the eerie quiet. The snow was still lightly falling and the wind could be heard. Reaver's keen hearing made him notice every rustle of the leaves and every movement by the local fauna. "Something's not right…" he murmured as he placed another snowball in his ammo bucket. Gordon noticed it as well, but kept helping his boss pack snowballs. Reaver raised his hand, indicating that Gordon stop.

Reaver ducked, leaving Gordon standing there as a barrage of hiding children descended on him with a fury of snowballs. Every angle except up, snowballs flew at Gordon. When they ran out of ammo, the children ran off, celebrating their attack. Reaver stood up again, happy he wasn't the poor sod covered head to toe in snow. Gordon shook in his spot from both cold and terror.

Barry, deciding to let Reaver wage his insane snowball war, wandered toward the manor sneezing up a storm. He wished he hadn't gotten this stupid cold so he could enjoy the snow more. Right now, the only thing that appeared remotely appealing was a big bowl of warm soup and a nice hot cup of his mother's home remedy. He finally reached the manor gates and looked down. Apparently, the salt mixture Gordon used earlier worked like a charm, as the newspaper sat there in its wet plastic.

Bending down, Barry picked it up. As he was standing back up, he felt something cold hit his behind. He shrieked in surprised and stood up straight, covering his bottom. He looked behind and found Willa, Beryl, and Rosie laughing hysterically. Ignoring his snow covered bottom and his stuffy nose, Barry snarled loudly, clenching the newspaper tight. Miss Sarah, who decided to take a break from ice skating, walked up to the group, giggling softly.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hatch; you made it too easy!" Beryl laughed as Willa geared up another snowball.

Before she got a chance to throw it, Miss Sarah walked up to Barry with a concerned look. "Mr. Hatch, are you coming down with something?" she asked. Barry sneezed his response into his handkerchief, not wanting to get anyone else sick. "Girls, I'm going inside for a bit to help Mr. Hatch and to get started on dinner." Miss Sarah walked with Barry toward the front of the manor. When bent over to take off her ice skates, she felt something cold hit her behind as well. She glared back at Willa, Beryl, and Rosie, who were laughing up a storm.

When Miss Sarah and Barry finally made their way into the manor, Beryl looked over at their snowman. "He is indeed an elegant snowman." She murmured. "I bet Mr. Reaver would like him." She placed her finger on her chin and then looked over at Willa and Rosie. Rosie didn't like the "I've got an idea!" look the two were getting and followed them when they ran into the house.

The girls ran past the kitchen and up the stairs as Miss Sarah poured an odd concoction into a mug for Barry. "Here you go, Mr. Hatch. I hope I got the recipe right. I must admit, the Tabasco sauce threw me off." She chirped, sitting across from him. Miss Sarah and Barry sat at the small corner table that the servants sat at when they ate their meals. It was a simple table with two benches, nothing elegant like Reaver's grand dining room table with chairs.

Barry drank it all in one gulp. With a happy gasp, Barry put his mug down and wiped his mouth. "Just like Mother used to make." He murmured as Miss Sarah took his mug. Though she didn't know the science behind it, Barry's home remedy seemed to make everyone feel better when they felt sick (if one ignored the tuna fish flavor). Barry ignored the sounds of giggling girls running through the foyer carrying a laundry basket and he ignored the sound of the door slamming. He was too transfixed on Miss Sarah, who had gotten up to start dinner.

"These stoves feel so nice after being outside all day." Miss Sarah giggled. "Mr. Hatch, can you ice skate?" she asked, warming herself up by the stove.

Finishing the last little bit in his mug, Barry nodded. "Somewhat. Not a professional, but I do have a pair of ice skates in my closet. I haven't used them in years."

Miss Sarah turned around and beamed with joy. "After dinner, I might go out to do some more ice skating. I want to get my money's worth for those ice skates. You should join me. I'd love to have a skating partner." Miss Sarah walked off to the pantry to fetch more ingredients for dinner. Barry beamed with his own joy and poured himself some more home remedy.

Outside, Reavie glared at the orange cat. Her growls and hisses didn't seem to deter the stray. In her kitty language, Reavie decided to confront this newcomer. "Hey, you!" she shouted, though most people would have heard just hisses and meows. "You probably don't know this, but this is my territory. I'm sure you know who I am, so I'll forgive this simple mistake and let you off easy." Reavie was indeed Reaver's cat.

The orange cat just stared at Reavie and turned his head. "I can't say I've ever met you." he responded in their kitty language. He glanced at Reavie, who had a stunned look on her face (or the cat equivalent). "I just came from the city to enjoy the snow, but I think I've decided to stay for a while. The other animals say this place is heavenly in the springtime."

Reavie, whose fur was starting to stand on end, hissed loudly at this cat. "I'm Reavie and I don't like your kind on my turf!" she hissed.

The orange cat didn't know what Reavie was getting so mad at. "Ahh, I should have known from the odd garments you're wearing. You belong to that guy in the fancy white coat. I've heard of him."

"For your information, these happen to be the latest in kitty winter fashion, handpicked by Master himself! He only chooses the best! You being a lowly stray wouldn't know anything about fashion, so I'm going to ignore your remark about my sweater and give you one last warning!" Though she didn't look imposing with a sweater, scarf-bow, and booties on, Reavie could be quite intimidating. The orange cat actually looked quite scared, but then remembered Reavie was a pampered pet and he was a stray. He probably had more experience dodging attacks than she had making them.

Laughing softly (or the cat equivalent of such an action), the orange cat got up and walked past Reavie. "If it interests you, my name is Tumble and I usually stay in the market near the fish stall. But after hearing about Millfields, I decided to take a look. I think fish caught fresh from here would be quite delicious."

"I don't care what your name is; you will not touch these fish!" Reavie hopped up and down, obviously getting upset.

"The ice hasn't thawed and you're claiming fish that haven't even hatched yet." The orange cat, Tumble, slowly walked away, leaving Reavie in her puffed up angry state. "You know, I think I should tell you the other reason I came here. I heard from the other strays in town of a pretty female who wore these cute bows and lived in the manor by the lake. I wanted to see her for myself and maybe spend some time with her."

Reavie gushed a bit and her fur softened a bit. She twirled her tail around as if hiding herself behind a fan. "Well, now…"

"If you find her, tell her a cat named Tumble is looking for her…"

With that, Reavie lost her cool and started chasing Tumble. Tumble had to admit that Reavie was fast for someone weighed down by booties, a scarf, and a kitty sweater. It was a good thing no one (besides Barry for certain reasons) couldn't understand kitty language, because the people would blush at the things Reavie shouted at Tumble as she chased him along the banks of the river.

Ignoring the soft running and shuffling sounds coming from the bushes, Reaver and Gordon decided to stake out the snow fort the children had made near another dock. "Alright, Gordon, it seems they are taking a juice break. But be on your guard, they will strike at any moment."

Gordon, arms crossed, just sighed. "Mr. Reaver, are you at all aware that we've been out here in the freezing cold for hours waging a snowball war against children?" he asked, glancing down at the bucket of snowballs and then back to his boss.

"And enemy is an enemy!" Reaver announced, turning back to Gordon. "Now, place the decoy!"

Gordon sighed and walked over to a scarecrow he had picked from the fields. He propped it up and dressed it in an old coat, ratty gloves, and one of Reaver's discarded hats. The children looked up from their juice and saw the decoy placed on a hill nearby. They readied their ammo and started for it.

"Now, we take them by surprise and end this and get some cocoa!" Reaver shouted happily. Moving slowly, Reaver and Gordon marched toward the decoy with their ammo ready. Gordon was ready for this pointless "war" to be over and just carried the bucket. They approached silently (or as silently as one could in snow) a found their targets. "Got you, you dirty little…" it was then Reaver noticed the children were themselves decoys. Snowmen made in haste. "…wait, how did…"

Reaver didn't get to finish his sentence. All Millfields heard was screaming from Gordon and the sounds of snow being pelting against a body.

"Finished!" shouted Willa as she, Beryl, and Rosie stood back to admire their handy work. Rosie grinned and nodded. The snowman was dressed in Reaver's clothes (from the laundry basket) and looked very regal standing near the dock.

Beryl traced a mouth on the snowman's face. "Now, it's finished."

Rosie, scratching her chin, stood behind the snowman and moved him about. "You call that a snowman? Little Bit, that snowman is much too plump to be me!" said Rosie, in her best Reaver imitation. "Why, the bottom is much too big! Are you insinuating the marvelous Reaver has a big butt?"

Beryl and Willa laughed loudly. "Let me try!" shouted Beryl as she took Rosie's place behind the snowman. "Beryl! Where is that lazy girl? She had better be up here to dust my study or I'll bend her into a pretzel myself! Beryl, shine my shoes! See if dinner is ready! Sort my papers! Mop up that mess, make another mess, and mop it up again! Tell me I'm not a self-serving ass!"

Willa, when she finished laughing, decided to give it a try. "Rosie! You made my bed too perfect! Mess it up and make it again! Tell me a fortune and then make so it doesn't come true if I don't like it! Find Hatch and tell him to back his behind into my study so I can yell at him for no reason whatsoever! I need someone to scream at! Where is Miss Sarah with my lunch? Find Gordon and tell him to tend to the garden topless today!"

As the girls laughed loudly, they noticed a weird slushing sound coming their way. Looking up, they saw Reaver and Gordon drag themselves toward the manor. Both of them were wet from the snowball barrage and looking pretty miserable. "I need a change of clothes, a bowl of hot soup, and a warm bath. Though not particularly in that order…" Reaver moaned as the girls came to help him. He looked over at the snowman that made itself at home looking over the lake and then at the girls. "That looks nothing like me!"

The evening settled in and the snow had stopped. More was on the way, but for now Millfields was quiet. As the sun set, Reavie chased Tumble all the way to the manor. Both cats exhausted from the chase, they stopped by the steps and glared at each other. "You're nothing but a mongrel! When Master sees you, he'll be mad!" Reavie mewed.

"You know, the other cats were right. You are cute." Tumble teased.

"Other cats?" Reavie asked.

"Yep; other cats. There are plenty of them that stalk around Millfields. They don't see you much except through the windows of the big house, but they say you're pretty cute. I didn't see it at first, but now I do. You're pretty cute when you get all puffed up and mad." Tumble cantered over to Reavie and rubbed his cheek against hers. Reavie wanted to be mad, but she found herself getting used to Tumble's scent. "If you ever want to get away from this big drafty house and 'Master' for a bit, I'm thinking about setting up a home in a nearby tree. There's a knothole in a nearby tree that some crows abandoned."

Reavie, finding herself less puffy, purred softly. She shook herself out of her trance and turned her head away. "I have better things to do than hang around in a filthy tree!" she huffed, throwing her head in the air and walking toward the manor door. Tumble sat there and waved his tail about. "…but if you ever want to spruce it up a bit, I think I can let you have some of my old, less fashionable ribbons. Even if it is a hole in a tree, it should still look like a proper home."

Tumble smugly glanced at Reavie. "I think I'd prefer to stay warm than fashionable." He mewed.

Tumble was taken by surprised when Reavie, using her teeth, unwrapped her own scarf and laid it down in between them. "Even a filthy stray like you doesn't deserve to freeze." Before Reavie knew it, Tumble rubbed his cheek against hers again. Reavie even welcomed it when Tumble licked her cheek (kitty kissing) as a shadow loomed over the two.

"YOU FILTHY MONGREL! GET AWAY FROM MY REAVIE!" Reaver shouted, taking out his gun. Tumble screeched loudly and grabbed Reavie's scarf with his teeth as Reaver fired toward him. Tumble jumped into the bushes and ran off to parts unknown, with Reavie's scarf waving like a war flag. Reavie looked off into the distance longingly.

Reaver, now in a dry set of clothes and more groomed, picked up Reavie and brushed the snow off of her. "There, there, Mon chéri. That filthy beast won't bother you anymore. It's a good thing I bought you two scarves, or else you'd freeze because of that ugly little stray fur ball. Come along, Miss Sarah has a nice warm saucer of milk ready for you." Reaver cooed, holding Reavie over his shoulder.

That Night

With wet clothes hanging over the stove and everyone drinking hot cocoa, Lakeview Manor seemed the ideal place to warm up after a day of play in the snow. Reaver sat in his study as Barry brought him his wine. "Hatch, did Miss Sarah make those cookies yet?" Reaver asked, finally reading his newspaper.

"Yes, they're cooling on the counter right now. Why did you ask her do make cookies, Master Reaver?" Barry asked, pouring the wine.

Reaver chuckled and stood up, placing his newspaper down. He urged Barry to follow him. They walked into the kitchen, where Miss Sarah was finishing dinner. She didn't get a chance to say anything when Reaver picked up the plate of cookies and took them to the foyer. "You see, Hatch; sometimes the best plans are covert. In which I mean you have to take your enemies by surprise. Gain their trust…" Reaver put on a light jacket and his boots and went outside. "…and it makes the attack much easier."

Making sure no one was around, Reaver brushed off a garden table and had Barry put it just outside the front gate. He placed the platter of cookies on it and closed the gates. Making a loud whistling sound with two fingers and his mouth, Reaver then grabbed Barry by the sleeve and they hid in a nearby bush. After a few minutes, the children of Millfields cautiously approached the snacks. They made sure the coast was clear and started to eat the warm cookies, still celebrating their earlier victory.

"SURPRISE!" Reaver shouted, kicking a nearby tree. The tree shook and down fell the snow that had piled onto the tree onto the children, burying them underneath. Barry, shocked, looked at the pile of snow and wiggling children as Reaver laughed. "I'll have Gordon come dig them out later but right now…" Reaver laughed until his sides hurt, needing Barry to help him back in.

After dinner (and after hearing Reaver yell about finding a stocking in his soup), Barry dug through his closet and pulled out a dusty box. He opened it and smiled, carrying it under his arm and grabbing his coat off his coast stand. He waited until he heard Reaver's office door close and made his way downstairs. He opened the front door and put his coat on. As Barry reached the last button, he saw what he came outside for. Miss Sarah, having decided to get in some more skating before the lake melted, glided seamlessly across the ice.

Meeting her at the dock, Barry waved Miss Sarah down. "You decided to join me!" Miss Sarah said excitedly. "All of you!" Barry looked behind and saw the other servants holding up their ice skates. While he was hoping to skate alone with Miss Sarah, Barry just shrugged.

While the other servants stayed near Lakeview's dock, Miss Sarah skated toward the other end of the lake. The half-moon reflected nicely on the frozen lake and Miss Sarah stopped where she was to admire it. Barry soon joined her, having escaped a rather scary game of "Ice-Tag" with the other servants. Miss Sarah turned to Barry and smiled, skating beside him in the reflection of the moon.

Reavie stared out the office window longingly. Reaver told the servants he'd join them for night time skating as soon as he was done in his office. Reavie pawed at the window and mewed softly. "Don't worry, Reavie. I don't think that stray will bother you any longer. In fact, if he does, I promise I won't miss next time."

Those words shot through Reavie and made her shiver. Reavie may not have liked Tumble, but not even he deserved to incur Reaver's wrath. Thinking she was cold, Reaver picked up Reavie and set her down near his desk. He took out his journal and filled his ink pen.

"It certainly was a productive day, my dearest journal! Why, it snowed! Ahh, I am absolutely giddy! It's a good thing this journal is private or else I'd never live this day down. I would have had more fun had the Circus Rejects actually helped me in my snowball war against those little cretins from nearby. Why anyone would bother breeding and making children is beyond me. I loathe children, but they make for good target practice. Gordon was a good help, though I can't say the same for Hatch. He sneezed all over everything! I have no idea what is in that 'home remedy' of his, but it seems to do the trick as he was up and about within a few hours."

Reaver tapped his pen against the journal and looked over in the corner of the office. He had placed his ice skates there earlier before he got distracted by the snowball fight. He placed his pen on his lips and went back to writing after refilling it.

"My servants enjoyed the snow. Usually, I don't care what makes them happy but I didn't want to enjoy this snow day by myself. It's starting to get colder and the town crier said there is more snow coming tomorrow. I don't plan on spending it outside. First snow is special. Everything after that is just a mild inconvenience to shovel up. Speaking of which, I should probably have Gordon dig those children out from under that snow drift. The last thing I need right now is a bunch of noble parents bellyaching to me about their children getting frostbite on my property. The servants are probably outside ice skating. It might be snowing tomorrow, but the weather will definitely be warmer, meaning the lake will start to thaw. I should go take advantage of that."

Reaver closed his journal and left the office with his ice skates in hand. Reavie stayed inside, having had enough of the snow. She did watch from the foyer windows as servants and master enjoyed skating around on the ice in the clear moonlit night. Reavie watched Barry and Miss Sarah, who skated separately on the other side of the lake together. Reavie sighed (or the cat equivalent) and looked around. Something near the gates caught her attention. Stuck on one of the bushes was her scarf. Reavie mewed softly, happy and mad that Tumble was still around.

"You got off easy this time, you stray. But this is still my turf, and if you think Master is bad…" Reavie unsheathed her claws and glared out the window. "…then you don't know me that well…"

N'cha! Whoooo! What a chapter, am I right? I just went everywhere with this one!

A few days ago, my part of the world got a snow advisory. Of course, nothing came of it. Mostly sleet and wind, but nothing too damaging. Today, it was 70 degrees (Fahrenheit) and sunny. I don't know how to explain that one, but it is what it is.

It feels good to be back lurking around here. I missed the Fable area. Lots of interesting people. Love it to death. Oh! If you haven't already, go check out my other stories and also my dA account. I usually post updates and random musings there. The name is LunaPeachieWasHere and it's a hoot, I promise. I love hearing from you guys off and on both accounts, so don't be shy about dropping me a line! Oh! And don't forget to let me know how I did with a lovely review! I appreciate all reviews, but please keep it clean.

Get ready for some more updates from this one and my other stories. I have about three fics floating around here in the Fable section so go check them out as well. Remember, feedback, feedback, feedback!

As always, I appreciate your support and I hope to see more updates as inspiration and mood catch me.

Read, review, and of course, be merry my doves!

Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.