A Walk in the Snow
by
Owlcroft

Lydia held out a hand to catch the snowflakes that were beginning to fall just a little thicker. "I love being able to walk out when it's snowing." She sighed happily. "Thank you for agreeing to come out with me."

Beetlejuice shrugged carelessly. "I don't mind. Whatever you want to do, babes, you know that. And it is sort of fun."

"It's all so beautiful," she waved her mittened hand at the sky, then at the trees powdered with snow. "Back in the city, you couldn't really walk in the snow like this. There were so many people and the snow got dirty and turned to slush almost as soon as it had fallen. And Central Park was too far away, so being here is the first time I can really walk outside when it's snowing." She threw a quick glance over at a Beetlejuice starting to collect snow on his hair and shoulders. "You sure you don't mind?"

He gazed at her, admiring the way her red parka hood framed her face as she tilted it to the sky. "Nah. I sort of like watching the snow start to cover everything, the way it shows up on the trees and your parka." He nearly added, "And on your eyelashes," but stopped himself. She's so beautiful, he found himself thinking, then quickly erased that word and substituted cozy. He shook his head. Cozy isn't right, but the other is just . . . It's true, but I shouldn't be thinking it.

Lydia turned her head to look at him again then said in surprise, "You must be freezing!" She took one of his hands between hers and shivered at the feel. "Beej, juice yourself up a coat and some mittens!"

His thoughts diverted, he realized he did feel chilly and hastily assumed a black-and-white-striped mackinaw with matching mittens. "There, that okay?" He spread his arms and looked for her approbation.

"No, you still need a hat," she said thoughtfully.

Quickly, he produced a pomponned beret. When she shook her head with a frown, he changed it to a striped ski cap.

"No." She tapped her cheek with a finger, then said, "One of those Swiss hats, with a long feather. You know what I mean." He instantly obliged with a felt Alpine fedora complete with a pheasant's tailfeather and she grinned at him. "That's better. You are so cute in that hat!"

The ghost stared at her in astonishment. "Cute? Me? Lyds, the cold's getting to your brain! Maybe we should head back inside."

She shook her head and laughed. "There's no way I'm going back inside yet. Oh, Beej," she held up a finger, "just listen to that . . . well, that . . . absence of sound. I love that particular kind of quiet when it snows."

"Yeah," he agreed quietly. "Everything's muted, sort of. Muffled, I guess."

They stood and listened in silence for several moments, then Lydia carefully stomped on the half-inch covering of snow. "I love that, too; that scrunchy noise the snow makes."

The ghost lowered his feet to the ground and stomped, gently, to make the noise himself. "Me, too. There's a lot to like about snow." He wrinkled his face in thought. "As long as you can always go inside away from it if gets too cold or starts to melt."

"Oh, but you don't have to walk. You can float." Lydia watched as he shook his head, then scuffled his boots in the snow. She smiled, winced a bit, then pulled a small tin out of her pocket to dip a finger in it and then swipe the substance across her lips.

Beetlejuice watched interestedly, then avidly, then forced himself to look away and speak. "What's that?" he asked although he knew what it had to be.

"Lip balm, of course. The lipstick helps, but I need the balm, too in this weather. I hate it when I get chapped lips." She finished and re-pocketed the tin.

"You know when it's really, really cold – like this," he waved a newly-mittened hand, "and your nose feels like it's frozen solid and your lips are really chapped –" He looked at her and grinned. "You know I love it!"

She laughed again, squinting at him with her head tilted. "Not even you like having chapped lips!"

His grin widened. "Can't fool you any more, can I, Lyds?"

"Nope. Not for a minute." She pulled the tin back out and began to hand it to him. "No, wait, don't take your mittens off. My hand's already cold. Let me do it for you." She removed the lid and looked at him expectantly.

"No!" He pulled back at once, looking alarmed and wary.

"Beej?" She put surprise and hurt in her voice although she knew immediately why he'd objected.

"I just . . . it would . . . I'll do it. No problem. Don't want you to bother. My hands aren't cold at all," he babbled. "Really, babes, I don't feel cold at all, not one teensy bit." He reached for the small tin and realized his hand was trembling but couldn't decide if it was the cold or the thought of her touching him so personally.

"No," she insisted. "My mitten's already off and I could feel how cold your hands were. It's not a problem at all; just bend forward a little." She took hold of his jacket and tugged him toward her, having already scooped her finger through the balm.

"Ah, I could . . ." He couldn't think of a thing to say, so he simply did as he was told and felt a gentle finger run a thin film over his upper lip. Then he felt a more lingering touch across his lower lip as Lydia concentrated on what she was doing. He couldn't help himself. She is beautiful, he thought. Beautiful and precious and so very dear to me. Suddenly, he wasn't cold at all; warmth spread from the middle of his chest throughout his entire body and he felt extraordinarily happy.

When she finished, she smiled with content and re-capped the tin. "There, that must feel so much better."

Beetlejuice collected himself and pressed his lips together, moving them side to side while he remembered the touch of her hand on his mouth. "Uh-huh." He lifted a hand to touch her face, then realized what he was doing and changed direction slightly to brush a clump of flakes from her shoulder. "Um, thanks," he said quietly.

"Glad to do it," she told him with an honest, if somewhat sly, look. "Now come on before the snow gets any thicker. We should at least be able to make it to the fenceline before we have to go back in. Let's see just how far we can get today." Her smile grew just a little artful. She took his hand and pulled him gently after her.