"Where are we going?" Gillian just about whispered against the skin of Cal's neck as she leaned on his arm and they walked along the street. The air was frigid to the point of uncomfortable and it choked at her lungs until she adjusted as they strolled slowly along. Snow was coming down in swirling flurries but despite all that Cal had insisted they go out. Gillian had gloves on and she had reached for his bare hand and he had tucked both inside the large pocket of his black pea coat; plenty of room for two. He had a knitted red scarf around his neck, that matched the colour of Gillian's coat, and a dark blue beanie shoved down over his ears. Gillian had a scarf too and now she wished for a woollen hat of her own; she didn't think it would be so damn cold!

The snow had just started half an hour ago. As soon as Cal had spotted it he had leapt up from the couch and demanded they go for a walk. He muttered something about going out to enjoy the first snow fall of the season but whatever excuse he gave, Gillian was starting to believe it was sheer lunacy that motivated him and meant she followed. Cal nudged her with his elbow as they headed down the damp sidewalk; it looked like it had just rained, technically it was.

"Just to the park," Cal answered finally.

'What was so great about the park?' Gillian thought to herself. The snowflakes fell on her nose and eye lashes and she giggled as she thought of movie lyrics and winter wonderlands.

"What's funny?" Cal nudged her again.

Her nose was attuned to the warmth of him and his scent, kind of... musky, she supposed; she knew from now on she would not only associate snow with fairy lights and Christmas, like she had since she was a child, but with the scent of her boyfriend. Her boyfriend. Her heart leapt to think of it. They were official now. They were out and everyone knew and it had been a year since they had succumbed to a kiss in his darkened office, which had snowballed, excuse the pun, into this.

Gillian turned her head and kissed his neck again, just beneath his jaw, which was already rough with stubble, even though he had started to shave regularly. She knew why. He had made it clear why and her body flushed a little with the memory of him between her thighs telling her exactly why he had started shaving regularly. There was nothing like it, he had told her, than smooth skin against smooth skin. Gillian shivered a little with thoughts of him and the smell of him and just... him.

"Nothing," she answered him. "I'm being a girl."

"Hmph," Cal offered in response. His fingers tightened on hers and he turned his head to gaze at her, his stride faltering to a stop as turned and brought his other hand up behind her shoulders. He pushed her gently towards him while he leaned in to kiss her. His lips were cold and it was chaste to the point of disappointment.

"How much further?" Gillian shivered and it wasn't from the cold.

"Not far," Cal told her softly; they both knew she knew exactly where the park was. His blue eyes swept over her features and he gave a slight smile; that sweet, endearing smile that was just for her. It was his way of saying 'I love you' without the use of words. In this case though, he might have been saying 'thanks for indulging me'. He brought cold fingers against her cheek, brushing away melting frozen rain and then turned and tugged her back against his side.

Gillian kept her gaze up towards the sky as she walked, watching the way the flakes danced on the breeze under the street lights; like sugar plum fairies. Even if they were going to the park so Cal could show her a dead duck the walk would be worth it. She was freezing cold and her hair was damp with snow but it was magical. The houses were draped in twinkling white lights and the sidewalks reflected back the stars and her boyfriend was warm against her side. The world was magic like this and she felt excited inside to be alive; life was good, great, perfect about now.

Cal could hear the grunt of engines on the air and knew they were close. Gillian hadn't cottoned on to exactly what they were doing right now and out of the corner of his eye he could see her constantly looking up at the sky. Her capacity for bright happiness made him smile. He could get used to this, to making her erupt into content little sighs merely by suggesting a walk in the first snow fall of the year. Who knew it would be so magic for her? He wished for a little of her enthusiasm to rub off on him. He could do with feeling that joy. He wondered what it felt like inside, to be carefree like she was... to be happy like she was. He caught glimpses of it within him, moments like these helped, but it wasn't his normal and he wanted Gillian to be that for him; his normal. He had a feeling, now that he was in this, waist deep with her, that she would.

She wasn't even complaining about how cold it was. He would be, if it hadn't been his idea to head out in the first place. They crossed the road and stepped up on the footpath of the other side and ahead of them was the open expanse of the park and people and great plumes of ice being shaved in to the air with chainsaws. Gillian turned to him with another excited grin. Her cheeks and nose were red and her hair was starting to wave with the wetness of the air but her blue eyes sparkled addictively. She didn't say anything, she didn't have to; the silent conversation passed between them. 'You knew about this?' 'I thought you'd like it.'

Gillian removed their hands from his pocket, pulling him along as she quickened her pace to check out the first sculpture. There was a crowd standing around watching as a man scraped a chain saw blade against a block of ice; he was just starting. Gillian moved on quickly and Cal barely kept up. The next man was carving a groundhog sitting on top of a log, the next one over was a woman making a snowman. Gillian stopped to marvel at the swan for a moment, letting Cal catch his breath. There was so much cold precipitation in the air his lungs were having a hard time.

"So beautiful," Gillian murmured and her voice was almost lost in the squeal of little girls in pink hats and scarves and coats.

"You know they do this every year," Cal noted.

Gillian turned to him, her lips a dark crimson red. "Do they? I've never heard about it."

"There was a leaflet in your box," Cal informed her.

Gillian gave him a slight frown, as if she were in amused disbelief, "Did you go through my mail?"

"I saw it on the bench before you put it in the bin." Cal saw the information click in her mind. That was how this ice sculpting display had slipped under her radar; she had been too quick to throw away the junk mail. This was only her second year in the neighbourhood anyway. Maybe last year she wasn't able to pay too much attention.

Gillian linked her arm through Cal's and they turned to wander slowly down the row again. At the end Gillian stopped and looked up at the great silver stream against the black of the sky. The sculpture was working on an angel; there had to be one at least amongst the bunch. Great wings already protruded from the six foot tall block of ice and a mournful face tilted to rest against the left shoulder. Hands were just under the chin, pressed together in prayer or parley. The detail was incredible; Cal could see sorrow in the eyes, a hint of tears on a delicate cheek. The ice, once it had been shaped was translucent and the sculpture, a middle aged man, in jeans, grey jacket and grey hat, kept to himself, ignoring or merely not aware of the crowd gathered around him.

Gillian rested her head on Cal's shoulder again and he felt her sigh gently. Cal watched the ice flying away from the chained blade, reflecting light into the darkness. Flood lights were pointed at the angel, making her seem almost liquid under their gaze, like some CGI lady of the lake. If there had been a lake nearby Cal would have taken Gillian ice-skating.

"It's beautiful," Gillian noted again.

"Yeah," Cal agreed.

"I'm glad you found this and dragged me out here."

"Such a way with words," Cal teased back. He felt a squeeze of Gillian's hand somewhere against his side and flinched a little. Nearby a baby started to cry and Gillian's head turned and Cal saw the longing in her eyes. It made his heart sink a little to see and resolved himself to trying to make her happy in any other way. Cal turned so they were facing each other and wrapped both arms around her, placing another quick kiss on her cheek, drawing her back in to him. She smiled pleasantly and pushed her arms inside his coat to hug him back. She felt cold at first but quickly warmed and she rested her head against his shoulder once more, this time at the front of it; her head turned so she could watch the robes of the angel take place; the sculpture switched off the chainsaw and reached for another tool. Cal kissed the top of Gillian's head, then sealed over the spot with his cheek, letting it absorb.

They stood for at least five minutes before Cal started to think he couldn't feel his toes anymore and just as he was preparing to interrupt the silent observing Gillian straightened up and gave him a slightly apologetic expression. "I'm an icicle," she announced.

Cal gave her a grin. "Me too. We can come back tomorrow and see the finished ones," he took her hand and they turned. "Let's go home and warm up."

"And how do you propose we do that?" Gillian gave him a solicitous grin.

Cal's lip turned up in amusement. "Cocoa of course."

"Of course," Gillian mused as they started a slow stroll again, heading in the direction of her home. "And maybe a bath."

"Could definitely go for a bath," Cal agreed.

"Or, you know, we could put the two together."

"Now you're thinkin'."