“It’s snowing.”

The icy tone with which it was announced by his husband could have rivaled the chill of the day. It amused him, though he decided it was likely best not to show it.

Instead Jim stopped walking, pausing on the sidewalk in front of the store they were about to go into that afternoon. He looked up at the sky and as he did so just the very lightest dusting of flurries dotted his face.

“Just flurries, Spock.”

“Which are in fact…snow.”

He chuckled. “Technically, yes. Sweetheart, this isn’t your first time in Riverside at this time of year. You know how it can be.”

“Still I had anticipated, based on reports and my calculations that the snow would not begin until after the first of January, when we would be leaving and going to visit my father on Vulcan.”

Jim smiled slightly. “Hate to break it to you, Mr. Spock, but your calculations were mistaken this time.”

He looked affronted. “Obviously.”

Jim glanced up again. “Nice puffy clouds. Won’t be too much snow out of those. I’d call those marshmallow clouds.”

“They are not made out of a sweet confection.”

“No? Well. I don’t know about that. They’re being friendly, those marshmallows.”

Spock peered at him as though he had lost his mind. And Jim thought maybe he had. He was just feeling so ridiculously happy.

So much progress had been made between them and Spock had remembered so much, including, apparently, his disdain for snow.

“There’s a song, you know.” Jim knew he didn’t have the world’s best voice, but well…when had that stopped him? “It’s a marshmallow world in the winter, when the snow comes to cover the ground.”

“Hmm. Perhaps we should make haste with our purchases inside so that we can return home before it gets worse.”

Jim noticed Spock made no particular comment about his singing and he tried not to be offended by the lack of response. He shook his head, and gestured to the door for entrance.

By the time they came out about forty-five minutes later, the flurries had given way to much heavier snow fall. The trip back to the farm promised to be a bit dicey. He could already see that his Vulcan was more than a little disgruntled.

“Seems like your calculations were also incorrect, Jim.”

“My calculations?”

“That these marshmallow clouds would not produce much snow.”

He laughed. “Oh that.” He linked his arm with Spock’s. “It’s a yum-yummy world made for sweethearts. Take a walk with your favorite guy.”

“We have a hover car.”

Jim laughed harder. “Yeah. Yeah, we do. I love you, by the way.”

“And I love you. Can we return to the farm now?”

“We sure can, Spock. We sure can.”

“I will drive.”

“But…” Spock arched a brow. Jim shook his head. “Spoilsport. Fine. You drive.”

“Thank you. I prefer we make it back in one piece.”