A/N: Sometimes I'm dared to write fluff, just for fluff's sake. Look what it does to me D:
...
FLUFF
When Olivia gets back outside, trying to close the sliding door without using her hands since she's precariously holding two mugs full of steaming coffee, she knows from the sound of it that she hasn't missed much. She walks back to her chair, seating down next to Peter, who's looking at the scene with that same, affectionate smile. She knows he must be enjoying it for still being out there; he's obviously cold, despite his several layers of clothes and thick hat; the tip of his nose is adorably red.
"Here you go," she says, handing him one of the mugs, which he takes with a smile. "She still hasn't given up?"
"She's your daughter, hun," he chuckles. "What do you think?"
"Fair enough," she says, smirking at the scene.
Farther in the distance, Etta and Walter stand in the middle of their snow covered yard. The four year old is evidently bundled up in about three sweaters and a thick snow jacket, but she has categorically refused to put her hat on. "It makes my tiara look ugly," she had explained. Walter wears a similar pink tiara on top of his hat, and Olivia has to admit, it looks rather distasteful.
For the past half-hour, Etta has been trying to teach her grandfather how to do a perfect rendition of the scene "Let It Go" from 'Frozen', using her snow-covered swing set as ice castle. While Walter is getting pretty good at singing the lyrics, Etta is much displeased with the way he's using his magic powers.
"No, no, you have to move your hands like that, look, LET IT GOOOOOO, LET IT GOOOOO, see?"
Peter makes an odd sound at her side, and Olivia looks away from the scene to look at her husband, who's frowning down at his coffee. "Uh, why does this taste like there's whiskey it in?"
"Whoops, my bad, that's mine," she says, handing him the other mug, her eyes already back on Walter, just in time to see him twirl, Etta already shaking her head, unimpressed.
"You should just play Olaf, grandpa," she resigns herself.