Title: White Out

Pairing: Val/Jon

Implements: hand

Warnings: none

I was sitting in the living room by the window while watching the snow fly, paying only slight attention to the weather report on the TV. I had already heard it several times now, and it was pretty much the same thing-some weatherman dressed in his coat, hat and gloves standing in the snow, telling us all about how bad the snow was. As if they think we somehow couldn't look out our own windows and see just how bad it was. Virginia it seems was being hit with its first major snow storm of the season, and it was a doozy. It looked like half the state was shutdown, if the listing of closings was any indication.

I had already been up for well over an hour, and noted that the college I worked at was closed for the day along with pretty much everything else. I stood up from my seat by the window then slipped into our bedroom to quietly tell Jon the snow was so bad that nobody was going anywhere. He barely opened his eyes, mumbled an "okay", and proceeded to roll over and snuggle more deeply into the covers. I wasn't sure just how much of my message had registered, but I leaned over and shut his alarm off and left the room. Then I went to the kitchen to fix a cup of coffee and watch the morning news, which was dominated by the massive and unusual snow storm for our area of the country.

I was looking at the snow falling through the window, as I finished off the last few swallows of coffee. I was about to go pour a second cup, when I heard a panicked commotion from the bedroom, then a door slam and a few seconds Jon frantically came rushing into the living room from the hall. He was pulling a shirt on as he entered, and his currently blond hair was still a bit mussed from sleep.

"Val, why didn't you wake me up? I am almost an hour late for work-shoot why didn't Suz call me for that matter?" He said, as he finger combed his hair trying to make it look presentable.

"Relax Jon. Just take a look out the window and that should answer both of your questions. And I did wake you and tell you about the snow, but you obviously didn't wake up enough to remember the message." I said as I gently shoved him towards the window to see about 6 or so inches on the ground with more falling thickly from the sky.

"Damn, what happened to the 2-4 inches they predicted when we went to bed last night?" Jon said with a look of shock on his face. "I don't think I have ever seen that much snow all at once-at least not here."

"Half the state of Virginia seems to be shut down, and the weatherman is predicting 6-8 inches at this point total, so we are in for even more snow before the day is through."

I heard him mumble a quiet expletive under his breath, and then he looked at me.

"Val I really need to go to work, can't I just take your Jeep? It has 4 wheel drive. I should be okay-there's not that much snow out there. Besides people up North drive in this stuff all the time." He looked at me with pleading eyes. "If I miss today, I don't know how I will ever get caught up. My schedule is crammed full for the next few weeks, and I don't know how I will make up all the missed appointments."

"No! This isn't even debatable. There is a weather advisory for today. They don't want any non essential traffic on the road. And as much as some of your customers might think getting their hair done is essential, I am pretty sure the state police wouldn't agree. My jeep is staying right where I parked it in the garage."

I could see a look of frustration on his face, and I did empathize with him. Rescheduling a full day of appointments was a lot more stressful than missing a day or so of school was for me. I could just shift a few of my lectures around a bit, and all would be fine, but he was probably looking at having to work some overtime to get his appointments back on track. I could see the wheels turning in his head, whether or not he should give the argument up-he stood there tensely for just a moment, and then I guess he decided against further argument, since he gave a nod in agreement.

"I want another cup of coffee, and you haven't had breakfast." I said, nudging him on through the doorway into the kitchen. I was pouring a second cup of coffee, while he prepared a bagel. "After you finish your breakfast and shower, we need to go out and shovel the snow on driveway and walk. This mornings weather forecast was predicting 6-8 inches, so there shouldn't be too much more snowfall today."

About an hour later, we were both bundled up in our winter wear and outside shoveling away. I couldn't believe how fast the snow seemed to be falling, it was swirling all around us as we worked, and visibility was low-definitely not something to be out driving around in. I could already hear the sounds of kids in the neighborhood enjoying the unusual snowfall, and I saw the VERY occasional car trying to make it up the hill by our house—most of them unsuccessfully. Barney, our dog was out running around in the snow. He wasn't real sure what to think at first, and sort of danced around trying to pick his feet up out of the deep snow, but once he realized it was that deep everywhere, he started to root and dig around in it, and let out the occasional playful bark.

I was working on the last bit of the driveway, and Jon was about halfway done with the walkway, neither one of us saying much to each other at that point. As I shoveled I noticed just how perfect the snow was for snowmen, snow forts, and best of all snowballs. I could remember similar times from childhood, when my brothers and I would have elaborate snowball fights-although more they could more appropriately be called snowball wars-with each other and the other kids from the neighborhood. We didn't get snow all that often and when we did, the kids would make the best of it-we would spend almost the whole day outside chucking snowballs at each other and making various snow creations. We were reluctant to go inside unless forced to by cold or parents. The more I shoveled the more I noticed that it was just wet enough to be the perfect packing snow, the kind meant to be made into perfectly round snowballs. With each shovel full I flung the more tempted I became, and I just couldn't help myself and gave in to the temptation. I secretly started to build up a nice stockpile of snowballs, and when I felt like I had a large enough supply of ready ammunition I let loose with the first one.

The snowball struck Jon dead center on his back. At first he sort of stiffened and slowly started to turn, his voice faintly saying "Val . . .?" but his words were quickly cut off, as I immediately threw two more snowballs that hit him directly on his chest. It may have been a long time since I had a snowball fight, but my aim was still excellent. At that point, he was smart enough to take cover behind a shrub and start to make some ammunition of his own.

"You better hide, because I am definitely going to get you back," he called as he worked to create a pile of snowballs. Then he launched the first one in a counter attack. The attack was a quick flurry-some of them hitting, while a few sailed over my head, because he was tossing several of them blind. The war was on. We both attacked each other with gusto, while Barney ran back and forth between us barking excitedly and trying to fetch the various missiles we were chucking at each other. Eventually my superior weapons stores won out and Jon couldn't keep up. So, left with little choice, he raised his arms and offered his surrender.

"I give up, Uncle, I surrender, no more," he called, grinning as he stepped out from behind his meager shelter, and we both collapsed into the snow, laughing from are efforts.

"I haven't had a good snowball fight in years--the snow was so perfect I couldn't help myself." I confessed. "I remember my brothers and I having all out snowball wars as kids. Although none of us ever wanted Rick on our side-he would happily throw them at us, but the second he got hit, he would go inside crying to mom. At first we would always end up in trouble for picking on our brother, but she eventually caught on, and put a stop to the tattling."

"Well you weren't very fair today, you had a whole pile of snowballs before you even started, maybe I should call your mom and complain."

I let out a laugh and stood up, "Well, I learned a long time ago, that you don't start a war until you have a good supply of ammunition. Besides you would have done the same thing if you had thought of it first, and you know it." He didn't deny the charge as I reached down to help him up. "Come on, let's finish up the walkway, so we can go in and warm up." Once he was standing in front of me, I leaned in and kissed him. As the kiss deepened, I heard him groan slightly and then I felt him pull away.

"Mmmm, that's nice, I can think of some really interesting ways to warm up, and they don't involve hot chocolate or fires," he said wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Then we better get back to work, and finish this up, I could use some warming up," I laughed as I went over and picked up my shovel from where I abandoned it.

A few hours later, I was sitting in the living room, grading some papers, with Barney curled up quietly at my feet. Jon walked out of the office, where he had been entertaining himself playing some game on the computer. His eyes were bright with excitement.

"Hey Val, I was thinking about what we should have for supper, and I want to make some of my super hot chili, but we need to run to the grocery for some of the ingredients, in order for me to fix it right. We can just make a quick run to the store." I was wondering what planet he was on, that he could ever imagine any drive in the snow we had outside would be 'quick.'

"Jon, have you looked out the window? The weather report has already updated that 6-8 inches from this morning to more than 12 inches. We aren't going anywhere today." I could see the light in his eyes die just a little. Jon is the kind of person who goes 100 miles an hour, and he liked having lots of company along while he was going. That is one reason his job suited him so well, he was constantly in motion, with chatty coworkers, and with always somebody fresh to talk to as his customers came in for appointments during the day. He was looking for something to fill the void. "You know, I am sure we can probably find something to fix with what we have on hand. If you don't have all you need for chili, why not some fresh vegetable soup, I think something soupy and hot sounds wonderful. Go see what we have and let me know what I can do to help." I suggested. Planning and preparing dinner would be enough to keep him occupied for now, but I knew we were in for a tough time, if the snow didn't stop soon. Cabin fever was just around the corner.

While I heard Jon rummaging around in the kitchen, I gave another quick peek out the window. If my eyes weren't deceiving me, I would swear there was far more than 12 inches outside, and the snowfall hadn't even come close to letting up. I turned the TV on to get an update on the weather.

The poor weatherman wasn't the only person standing outside now. The news station had reporters all over the place, one at the capital, one reporting "live" from I-64, and another one someplace else I couldn't easily identify, but it was also outside in the snow of course. The reporters were telling all the viewers that it was snowing, just in case we couldn't figure it out. I never quite got the reasoning behind sending reporters outside to report on the weather, much less the tendency to do every report "live" from wherever something was happening. It made me glad I wasn't a reporter. I listened to the poor guy in his snowsuit reporting live from the studio roof tell me all about the snow.

"Well, so far the snow hasn't shown any signs of letting up," as if I couldn't see that from my window "and the system seems to just keep churning out snow. It is dumping snow all over Virginia, the southeast and is heading towards New England. Snowfall is reported to be more than a foot in most areas, and weather models seem to indicate that we may see as much as another 6-8 inches of snow before nightfall." Uh-oh, that doesn't sound good. On top of the snowfall we already had, that would be at least 20 inches of snow-maybe more. "The roads are extremely slick and dangerous, and the state police are reporting accidents all over the state and at least 3 fatalities. The interstate and other major roads are completely impassable, and the governor has called in the National Guard to help get stranded people to shelters that are opening all over the state. The state police are requesting that only essential personnel attempt to go out on the roads until the storm has passed . . . ." On that note I turned off the TV, not really needing to hear much more. It looked like the first snow of the season was going to probably top the snowfall totals for most years in a single day.

"Hey, Val, I think we have all the stuff to make the chili in the pantry after all. I don't have as many fresh peppers as I would like, but I can make do with what we have. It isn't going to be my 'special' chili, but it will still be chili and close enough. I can mix up some cornbread to go with it, if you want." He said as he leaned in the open doorway between the living room and kitchen.

"Do you want some help?" I offered.

"Nope, I think I got it." He said. Jon took over the majority of cooking duties when we moved in together, and given my lack of real skills in the kitchen, we were both fine with that-but I was happy to chop veggies and do some of the other grunt work required to prepare a suitable meal, if or when needed. Since Jon didn't need my help with the meal, I went back to grading tests. A while later I put the stack of tests back down on the coffee table, glanced out the window to look at the snow, and went into the kitchen to check on Jon.

He was by the counter stirring something, so I walked over to stand behind him, wrapped my arms around him, and peeked over his shoulder as I nuzzled his neck. "Mmmm smells good, what are you making?" I asked when I saw that he was stirring something that look suspiciously like brownies.

He laughed, when I lightly blew in his ear, then answered "I thought I would make some dessert to go with the chili" then he pulled away just enough so he could turn his face up for a kiss, which I gladly provided. After a moment he gently pushed me away "Move, I need to dump these in the baking pan, and get them in the oven. Can you grab the pan for me, it's on the counter over there?" he asked, nodding his head in the direction of the sink. I let go of him and helped him get the brownies poured in the pan and into the oven. I admit I had a small ulterior motive in helping-because left me holding the chocolate covered spoon-which I happily licked clean before dropping into the sink.

"I think we are going to need to go shovel some more before dark sets in. The weather report is predicting around 20 inches of snow, give or take a few. I can't believe how much snow is out there, I can't see anything but white." I helped him get the kitchen cleaned up, and while the brownies were cooling, we bundled up for round two of snow shoveling.

When Jon opened the garage door, I couldn't believe what I saw. It didn't even look like we had shoveled anything that morning-there was snow everywhere. Armed with our snow shovels we both went to the end of the drive and began shoveling.

"You know Val, I really think we should go get a snow blower, we could really make quick work of this driveway."

"Jon, we are NOT getting a snow blower, we don't need a snow blower."

"But Val, just think how much sooner we could be done, if we had one. We could take your jeep to the Home Depot right now, and it would save us tons of time."

"Jon we live in Virginia, I don't think this part of the state averages above 10 inches a year, if I had eight hundred bucks to spend on something right now, a snow blower would not come anywhere near the top of the list of things to buy. And we are not taking my Jeep anywhere."

"I bet there is somebody at the Home Depot right now, just waiting to sell us a snow blower."

"If there is somebody at Home Depot, we aren't risking life and limb to go and keep him company."

"But . . ."

"Jon, let it go, and just keep shoveling," I said, hoping he would take the hint and drop it. I don't even think he really wanted a snow blower, I think he wanted to go somewhere-anywhere-more than he really wanted to get snow blower. Jon and cabin fever do not go hand in hand, and I could already see early signs of it settling in. We finished up the shoveling, went in and had supper, and spent most of the evening calling friends and family to see if they were as snowed in as we were, and the general consensus was pretty much everyone got hit badly.

* * *

The next morning we got up a little later than usual, since neither one of us was going to go to work that day. Even though he knew the shop wasn't going to be opened, he was anxious to go to work. But desire or not, there was still snow everywhere, weather advisories all over the place, and half the state was still shut down, with plenty of accident reports to indicate that while the snow had stopped, the inability to get the majority of roads cleared were making driving dangerous. Jon's desire to go to work, and the knowledge that he wasn't going to work, or going anywhere that day, made him irritable and snappish.

Things started sliding downhill even more, when he realized there wasn't anymore strawberry cream cheese for his bagel, which led to another discussion of why we weren't making "quick runs" to the grocery store, and how he would have to make do with plain cream cheese or choose something else for breakfast. Jon spent most of breakfast somewhere between sulky and accepting. I knew I was going to have to come up with something, or he wasn't going to survive until the melt off was enough to let us safely leave the neighborhood.

I started whistling the tune to "Winter Wonderland" half consciously as we loaded the dishwasher, and cleaned up from breakfast.

"Do you have to do that?" He asked snappishly.

"Do what?"

"Whistle that song."

"What's wrong with the song?" I asked. I really didn't have any idea what was wrong. Jon was more than used to me whistling while I did various chores, and I couldn't think of any reason he would object to the Christmas carol.

"A song about snow, and more snow, I am sick of the fucking snow, I do not want to see another flake of snow for as long as I live." The problem here wasn't so much the sentiment he expressed but the tone he expressed it in, and I knew that he was heading for trouble. The best way to keep Jon from dwelling on the things he doesn't like is to occupy him with other things, and I had the perfect project in mind for today, a day where I knew we weren't going to be going anywhere.

I gave him a less than gentle swat on the butt and said, "Jon, get some work clothes on, we are going to start stripping the paper from the guest bedroom today."

"What? You mean the Amish room," Jon hated the Amish room, and routinely complained about it, but that didn't stop him from crossing his arm with a look of mutiny in his eye.

And no, there weren't any Amish people actually living in the Amish room, and no Amish people had ever lived in the house. The previous owners had interesting taste in wall paper and home décor. The kitchen, one of the first rooms I redid after purchasing the house had yellow and orange chickens all over it. The living room also had chickens in mauve and blue, but with the added benefit of an egg basket and bow here and there. The chickens, baskets and bows were now long gone, but I confess I kept putting the Amish room off, because it was the guest bedroom. It was easy to just shut the door and ignore it. Ever since Jon moved in, he had complained the guest bedroom, and had been chomping at the bit to get it done.

Why was it called the Amish room? Well, because the walls had wallpaper covered with little pictures of Amish buggies and Amish children in various repeated scenes. Not exactly the wallpaper you would expect to see in the home of a man-or really anyone who had even the smallest amount of taste. Redoing the room had been on our list for a while, but we just hadn't worked our way down to it yet. Luckily, we had purchased the supplies needed to strip the paper, and paint the walls a more suitable color in anticipation of getting to it.

"But I don't want to strip wallpaper today. I think I can get to work today, the roads can't be that bad, it stopped snowing sometime last night."

"Jon, we aren't having this conversation again. We aren't going anywhere; you heard the weather report as clearly as I did. And you can look out our window and see that a plow hasn't even come close to our neighborhood. We don't need to go anywhere, and since neither one of us is working today, we can get the guest bedroom finished off. Now let's go get our work clothes on." I said giving him a look that indicated I wasn't in the mood for anymore arguments. I could see by the look in his eye, and his body language that he was thinking about continuing the argument, and I could tell when he decided against it, and I imagine the sting from the earlier swat helped him make the wise decision. He didn't say anything, but he turned sharply on his heels, and walked towards our bedroom.

I followed him, and while he had given in, I could tell from his body language that he still wasn't all that happy about it. He wasn't talking, and he was pulling things out of drawers, and shutting them with a little more vigor than necessary.

"Jon," he looked at me from where he was pulling on his work clothes by the bed, his eyes dark with a hint of annoyance, "you need to get control of your temper now, before you find yourself in more trouble than either you or I want you to be in. Now, you have two choices, you can continue to argue and snap at me, and find yourself in a good deal of trouble, or you can do the one thing you have wanted to do for months." I walked over and put my hands on his shoulders. "What are you going to choose?" He stepped in to embrace me.

"I just hate being cooped up in the house. And it isn't even that I hate being home, it's just that I can't go anywhere. It sucks."

"I know, but sometimes you just have to deal with things that suck, and you have to do it without ripping the heads off the people you love."

I gently pushed him towards the door, "Go ahead and start getting the stuff to strip the paper from the utility room, while I finish getting dressed. Then meet me in the guestroom, and we can get everything shifted around in there so we can access all the walls." Jon nodded, and headed towards the utility room, while I pulled some old jeans and an old shirt out of a drawer and pulled them on. I went across the hall into the guest bedroom ready to get to work.

The wallpaper truly was awful and the room was sparsely furnished. There was a full size bed, a small dresser, and a cheap bookshelf that also served as a bedside table. I figured, once we got the hideous wallpaper off the walls, and repainted the room, we could look at getting new furniture. Right now the room screamed "college bachelor" or maybe "just out of college bachelor" since the mattress wasn't on the floor. While I waited on Jon to bring in the supplies, I start shifting smaller things into the office or onto the bed.

As Jon and I worked on the wallpaper, his mood gradually improved, it still wasn't perfect, but at least he wasn't snapping and griping at every moment. In the late afternoon, we were filling in the various scrapes and nicks in the drywall, when the telephone rang. Jon said he would answer it, and ran out of the room to get to the phone before the machine picked up. I could tell by his response after answering the phone that the call was for him, so I finished filling in the last few holes, and started cleaning up the mess. I was tying off a large trash bag, when he came back into the bedroom.

"That was Matt, and he said that the roads where he was at were mostly cleared, and he was going to go to a movie tonight. Yes, did you hear that? The movie theater is open with real people selling tickets and popcorn and everything. There isn't any reason we can't go somewhere. I don't see why we are staying cooped up in the house."

"Jon, what did I tell you this morning about going somewhere today?"

He hesitated at first then answered grudgingly, "That we weren't going to talk about it anymore."

"That's right, so I don't care what Matt told you he was doing. Matt isn't my partner, you are, and we still aren't going anywhere. Now," I said, turning him around, and pointing him towards the bedroom, "Go take a shower." I gave him a nudge in the right direction, and he started walking, although I heard him murmuring in frustration as he went. I am pretty sure I heard something about the point of having a 4 wheel drive and over cautiousness.

"What did you say?" I asked him.

"Nothing, I . . . um just said I was going to go take a shower," he answered, and I decided not to press him for what he actually said. I knew that much of his snappishness was born from frustration at being unable to leave the house. I was hoping that maybe a shower would remove the dark mood that had returned after his phone conversation.

Work on the Amish room, was pretty much done for the day, since the mud had to dry before we could prime it. So, I picked up the bag of trash I had tied off, and carried to the bins we kept in the garage. Then I decided to check the weather. I took care not to sit down or let my filthy clothes touch any of the furniture-so I just watched the report standing in the middle of the room. Apparently there had been some clean up underway, but with the temps going back below freezing overnight, roads, especially those that hadn't been cleared or plowed, were expected to turn to ice, and be even more dangerous. Half the state still appeared to be shut down, and a large number of people were without power. I muttered quiet thanks that we weren't among them. The good news was the high for the following day was expected to be well above freezing.

Jon came into the room, his hair still damp from the shower. He was quiet, which told me his mood was still dark, but he was trying to keep it in control.

"Unless you want to cook something else, why don't you warm up some of the leftover chili from yesterday for dinner, while I go get my shower?" He muttered an "okay" under his breath as he headed into the kitchen, and I realized that today's work only temporarily made things better. It only took the one call from Matt about going somewhere to turn his mood sour once again. It was going to be a long evening.

When I came down the hall after my shower I could hear the radio going, and his slightly off key singing, as he rumbled around in the kitchen. I leaned in the doorway, watching him mixing something in a bowl slightly dancing to the beat as he stirred.

"What are you fixing?" I asked.

He turned slightly to look at my face "I thought I would make another batch of fresh cornbread to go with the chili. I already put it on the stove to warm up." He turned back towards his bowl and kept mixing.

"Do you want my help for anything?"

"Nope, I am almost done. The cornbread should be done in about 30 minutes, and the chili should be warm enough by then," he answered as he poured the batter into the bowl.

I went and sat down at the kitchen table, and we chatted about trivial things-things that had nothing to do with snow or the weather. After we finished eating and cleaning up the mess, I suggested we play a game. He said he wasn't interested, and we eventually ended up in the living room together, although we were each occupied with our own entertainment.

I was reading a fluffy work of fiction, while he was flipping through channels on the TV-I say flipping, because he didn't stay on any one channel long enough to follow any kind of plot or storyline much less figure out what show was on. He tends to do a lot of flipping anyway, because he refuses to watch commercials. So he often ends up watching more than one channel at a time to avoid them, where I usually find something to watch and stay on that channel, entertaining myself with a book, paperwork or something else during the commercials. Because of our TV watching styles, weren't always compatible TV watchers, which was why I decided to leave the TV to him while I read. I think I had sort of tuned everything out as I read, because all of the sudden Jon lightly tossed the remote on the couch.

"Fuck it. There isn't anything on TV to watch." Exasperation was clear in his voice.

"Please put the remote on the table," I said as I marked my place in my book, and put it on the table. His actions weren't quite a tantrum, but he was flirting right along the line. "If you can't find anything to watch on TV, why don't you put in a DVD?" I suggested.

"I don't want to watch a movie," he said irritably, but he complied with my request to put the remote on the table. He remained standing with his arms crossed in front. "I have already seen all of them. There isn't anything to do."

His frustration was back, and I was pretty sure it was spurred by the fact that Suz had called him earlier in the evening to let him know she was going to try to open the shop the next day, although probably a bit later than usual. The roads in the downtown area were mostly passable, or at least they appeared to be, so she was going to try to open up for the customers that were able to come in. She also told him she didn't expect him to be at work, understanding that the roads out our way were anything but clear. He made a futile argument that he should go into work, but he also knew at that point he was skating on thin ice. He gave up the argument, but his mood remained dour.

"Come here" I said, and pointed to the floor in front of me. He looked at me oddly, but complied, sitting in front of me, between my knees. I reached forward, and began to massage his muscles. After a few moments he began to relax, with his eyes shut loosely. Once I sensed he was more relaxed, and letting go of some of the pent up frustration, I leaned forward, and gently kissed the back of his neck. At some point, he turned towards me, and we continued to explore each other, with our mouths and hands. I don't know when we started to head towards our bedroom, but we gradually worked our way in that direction, shedding clothes as we went.

* * *

I slept in late the next morning, already knowing that the college was still closed down. I usually wake up around the same time each morning, but the lack of routine the last few days and knowledge that I didn't have to get up, made me a little more lax. But I sat up quickly when I realized Jon wasn't also in bed with me, and his spot where he normally slept was cold enough to tell me he had been up for a while

I leaned over to the bedside table to get my glasses, and managed to knock them off in my haste. I muttered a mild swear under my breath, as I carefully leaned down and began to feel around for them on the floor not wanting to step out of the bed in case I stepped on them. After fumbling around for a few seconds, I found them lying slightly under the bed, quickly grabbed them, and put them on. I quickly got out of the bed, and rushed down the hall-scanning rooms as I pass them. I went through the living room and into the kitchen but I saw no sign of him anywhere. I noticed that the house was quiet, too quiet. I opened the door into the utility room, and Barney quickly got up eagerly stamping his feet in greeting. I reached down, and scratched his ears and saw that Jon's coat wasn't hanging on the hook by the door to the garage. I got this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach as I opened the door to the garage, and realized that the space where his car should have been was empty. I looked out the window, just in case for some reason he had pulled it into the driveway, but the empty house and missing car were really more than enough evidence for me to know he wasn't anywhere in or near the house.

I went back into the kitchen and dialed his cell phone. I listened to the phone ring 4 or 5 times, before it switched over to his voicemail. I left a message for him to call me. Next I called his work, just in case he was there. Suz was surprised when I asked for Jon, since she didn't expect him in, and when she told me he wasn't at work, I tamped down the desire to panic. Next I tried calling Matt, just in case, for some reason he was trying to go visit him, although I was all but certain his goal was to get to work. Matt's phone rang several times, but there wasn't an answer there either. The fact that he wasn't answering his phone and wasn't at work brought images to my mind I didn't want to think about. I considered going out to look for him, but dismissed that idea. It wouldn't do either one of us any good to both be out on these roads. I was about ready to try calling his phone again, when the phone rang.

I quickly rushed to the phone and picked it up, "Hello!"

"Val?" I heard in a soft voice, but recognized it as Jon's immediately. "It's me, and, well I have a little problem." My heart raced at the word "problem" and the various possibilities it could be-many of them not very comforting. I sought to keep my voice calm as I asked.

"What is the problem?"

"Look . . . I know I am in trouble, but . . ."

"Jon, what is the problem?" I asked again.

"I got my car stuck in a snow bank, and I can't get it to move at all. I am okay; I wasn't even going that fast. I don't think the car is hurt either, it's just stuck, and well . . . I need help."

"Okay, where are you?" I was starting to consider our options. Option one involved driving to wherever he was in my jeep to pull him out. The downside was that while my Jeep was 4 wheel drive, it didn't have much power, and I wasn't sure it could pull him out. Option two would be calling on a friend with a 4 wheel drive truck or SUV with more power, but I quickly dismissed that idea, since I didn't want to ask anyone to go out in the snow-even if they were willing. Option three was call the tow service, which came with the added advantage of towing it to the garage to make sure there wasn't any damage to the car. I quickly dismissed options 1 and 2, and opted for 3-even though my heart wanted to take the Jeep and pull him out.

I heard a long pause then, "I am over on Red House, about half way up the big hill by the old church, just as you get to the big curve."

"Red House Road, what are you doing over there?"

"Well, when I couldn't get up the hill going out the front way from our neighborhood, I figured I would try to get into town going the long way, but I kind of forgot about the hill on Red House, or at least the curve that came with it." Our neighborhood technically had the main entrance, which involved a few quick turns and a relatively short drive to get into town. The problem is this entrance required most of the residents to drive up a rather large, steep hill. The very hill I watched several cars get stuck on over the last few days, and almost all of them had to turn around to take the unofficial "back" way. The back way required a person to drive on a twisty and turning road, that came with a rather large hill as well, just not as large as the one in our neighborhood, but ours didn't come with a curve. The back way added several miles to the trip, if you were heading into town. It was really only useful, if your goal was getting to Richmond, since it allowed you to by-pass the town, and easily get on the highway.

"Alright, am going to call Mike's, see if he can send a tow truck out to you. I also want him to look over your car, to make sure it isn't actually messed up."

"I told you I didn't think it was damaged."

"Well sometimes looks can be deceiving, and if there is something wrong with it, I would rather find out before you start driving it again." I paused a second. "Look, just find a safe place to wait until I can get a tow truck to you. I need to get off the phone so I can make the call. I'll call you back, when I know what's going on."

"Okay, I really am sorry," I heard him say again before disconnecting the phone.

I made the required phone call to Mike's and thankfully he had a tow truck and would dispatch the truck to go get Jon. I also told Mike I wanted the car towed into the shop, so he could go over it to make sure the crash into the snow didn't do any damage. I called Jon back, and let him know a tow truck was on the way. I asked him if he wanted me to stay on the line while he waited. He said he didn't, so I went and took a quick shower, got dressed and sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee waiting for Jon to get home.

I heard the rumble of the tow truck in front of the house, and quickly pulled on my boots and coat and went outside to meet it. The driver climbed out of the truck, and nodded at me in greeting.

"Hey Val, I gave the car a quick look, and it really doesn't look like anything is wrong, but I will go over it with a fine tooth comb and call you with the results."

"Thanks. How were the roads?" I asked, wondering, because the road in front of our house still looked pretty awful.

"They're a real mess, I have done nothing but pull cars out of accidents, or out of snow banks for two days. I wonder what possesses some of these nuts to go out in weather like this, if they don't have to. And I swear SUV drivers are among the worst. For some reason they think having 4 wheel drive makes them invincible. Well, I need to get this car to the shop," he said nodding towards Jon's Nissan. "I'll let you know what's up with the car sometime this afternoon." Then he shook our hands, climbed into his truck and drove away.

Jon had stood there silently pretty much the whole time, studying his toes. He was rather withdrawn, and looked rather pitiful. I guess waiting for the tow truck to come get him was more than enough time for him to think about what he had done, and for the guilt to set in.

I gestured with my hand towards the door. "Let's go on inside and talk about what happened this morning." He lightly nodded and went into the house, removed his coat and boots then glanced over at me as I did the same.

"Office?" He asked in a tentative voice.

"Yes, I think we both know that's where we'll end up anyway." And we both went into the office and sat down on the couch. I didn't say anything at first, figuring I would let him have the first words.

"God, I can't believe I was that stupid. Sometimes, I just don't think," he said. His tone and words indicating he was more mad at himself than anything at the moment. Once again he muttered another apology.

"I am sure you are sorry now, but would you have been this sorry, had you arrived at work safe and sound, ready to tell me how wrong I was the last couple of days or that I was some kind of overprotective mother bear?"

I could see the truth of that statement hit him. "So why don't you tell me where you went wrong?"

"Well I probably shouldn't have tried to take the Sentra," he said with a faint smile.

"I think that's probably a given, although why didn't you take my Jeep?" And that was my burning question. While the snow had certainly melted off a good bit, there were still huge amounts of it outside and on the roads. Anything short of four wheel drive was still unlikely to make it on unplowed, salted or sanded streets, much less unplowed streets full of hills, turns and curves.

"Well, because I wanted to go to work today, and well . . . I figured, if I had asked to use the jeep, you would have told me I couldn't go." I could see him squirming uncomfortably, and his hands were fidgeting with the loose fabric of his pants.

"Which is really, why you are here right now isn't it?" I prompted him, and he gave a quick nod, but his eyes were looking towards his knees. "Isn't it?" I asked him again.

He looked up at my face "Yes."

"You decided you didn't want to have the conversation, because you knew I would have said it wasn't safe, and I understand that you want to get back to work, but you also knew that Suz didn't expect you to come in today-she knew we were too far out of town for you to get in safely. Just because you didn't hear me tell you 'no' doesn't mean you didn't break a rule, and the fact that you felt the need to sneak out of here this morning, without even telling me you were going, is more than enough evidence that you knew you shouldn't have gone."

"Fuck," he muttered, putting his face in his hands. "I was just so tired of being here, in this house, knowing that something was going on out there, and I was missing it. I just wanted so badly to get out of the house, and I wanted to go to work-I like my job." And I believed him. Being cooped up always hit Jon far harder than it did me. While he didn't have the need to be the life of the party, he had a need to be in the midst of it. "I should have listened to that little voice telling me to stop, but I was just so certain that I could get there and everything would be fine, and you were just being overly cautious. And when my car started sliding towards that snow bank, and I couldn't do anything to make it stop, I was so scared. I knew I had screwed up, shoot I knew it before I slid into that bank. I was just telling myself that I was right and you were wrong. Shit, I hate it when I screw up like this."

"Jon, how do you think I felt this morning, when I woke up and you weren't here?"

He paused; I could see he was thinking, not trying to avoid answering. "Scared, worried, I don't know probably a little bit pissed."

I smiled at the last, because scared and worried were two things I definitely felt, but I hadn't had time to get pissed. "Did you think about that, when you drove out of here?"

He shook his head, "Honestly, I think I was just determined to prove you wrong about the roads, more than I thought about anything else. I just got so focused on the goal of getting to work, that I didn't think about anything else. Not even how it would make you feel. God, I feel like such a heel." He said again, once again covering his eyes with his hands, this time trying to stem the tears welling up in his eyes. I figured the time for talking was done.

"Come on then let's take care of this," I said as I got up and pulled the chair away from the wall. I could tell he wasn't at all surprised when I sat down. I think he fully expected to get spanked before he got home, probably before he called me for help. He didn't hesitate much at all this time. I think he may have wanted to get it over with, and maybe assuage his guilty conscience. And while I could tell it still wasn't easy for him, he quickly bared his bottom and lay down over my knee...

I could feel a certain tenseness in him, as he lay there, waiting for the spanking to begin. I placed my left arm around his middle, and pulled him close as I rested my other hand on his bottom. I lifted my hand and brought it down with a firm smack on his butt. As I swatted he started to squirm and shift. As the spanking continued I could see him fighting to keep from lifting his hand back to cover his butt to protect it from the pain, but just as he lifted it, he reached around my leg and grasped my ankle tightly. Gradually his tears turned to sobs and his body language softened, and I could tell that he had hit that point where further spanking wasn't necessary.

I lay my hand on his back, and lightly rubbed it, telling him that the spanking was over. We sat like that until the sobs slowed down. Then I gently lifted him up, helped him rearrange his clothes, and we moved to the couch. He lay down, with his head in my lap, while I gently rubbed his head. I spoke soft words of encouragement and love to him as his crying tapered off and finally stopped.

"I meant it you know" he said after a while.

"Meant what babe?"

"I am sick of snow and would be more than happy, if I never saw another snowflake for as long as I lived. I am done with snow for-fucking-ever."

The End