So Kyra (melvester on Tumblr) answered a bunch of "who would do this" questions for Walter and Paige regarding winter/snow/Christmas etc, and this is based off of her answer to "who starts snowball fights?"

(I don't think I did this brilliant answer justice at all but I did have fun writing it and imagining them all like this.)

"That is the most ridiculous looking sled," Paige said as Walter hauled it out of the van and grabbed hold of the strap. "It looks like one of those plows that people used to stand on behind oxen to get their fields finished up."

Walter blinked. "There is nothing in your backstory that suggests experience in farming."

She pretended to be annoyed. "Am I not allowed to watch documentaries now?" She grinned. "You've had a bit of an attitude all day, mister."

"This is what you would call arrogant assholery, right Mom?"

Paige clamped her hand over Ralph's mouth. "You watch your language."

Walter turned, smiling to himself, and began to walk toward the hill – it wasn't the one everyone else was using, but based on snowfall, topography, and grade, it was actually the optimum one for sledding. When Paige had suggested they take a trip to "somewhere with real snow" he hadn't been too keen on the idea. But once the planning started, the idea of just being able to relax and goof off with her and Ralph gained an enormous amount of appeal with him. So far, all they'd done was checked into the hotel and Ralph had tested the bed to see if he could jump high enough to touch the ceiling - "of all the things I thought about when I was pregnant, all the expectations, one of the few things that turned out as I'd imagined was that he would love jumping on the bed. I just didn't realize he had complex trigonometry and physics going through his head while he did it," Paige had told Walter once - and once he was satisfied that he could, and once Paige had looked through the brochures and told Walter her picks for the weekend, they'd headed out to the sledding hills. They'd all been bantering since they left, and as Walter dragged the sled toward the chosen hill, he found himself smiling.

There was a sudden impact between his shoulder blades, and jolted back to the present, he jumped in surprise, whirling around to look at...

Paige and Ralph both stood a few feet behind him, grinning. "Wasn't me," Paige said.

Ralph shrugged, not offering an accusation or a plea of innocent.

Walter rolled his eyes. "Come on," he said, "we've got to get to the top of this hill soon if we want enough time to sled before lunch."

"He's just annoyed because he doesn't know who threw the snowball," Paige said in a stage whisper to Ralph. The boy giggled.

"I could find out easily enough," Walter said. "We just got out of the van, only one of you would have snow stuck to your gloves, so it's just a matter of...hey!" he protested when both of them dove into the snow, burying their hands. "Now, that's not playing fair."

He leaned over, gathering snow up in his gloves, rounding it off, his indecision over who to throw at first resolved when it became clear Ralph was going to have his snowball ready first. "Hey!" The boy protested as Walter's aim knocked his weapon right out of his hands.

"Don't worry, Ralphie," Paige said, taking aim. Walter managed to duck out of the way, but his movement landed him right in the line of fire of Ralph's next missile. It hit him square in the chest, and Walter couldn't tell who was laughing harder, Ralph or Paige.

"We need to get moving or we won't have time to sled," he said.

Paige smirked. "Sore loser."

Ralph didn't mind a change of competition. "Race you to the top, Walt!" Ralph said, jumping up and taking off, lifting his knees higher than usual to get through the snow.

"Come on, Walt," Paige said, imitating her child's excitement. "Let's go!"

"I win!" Ralph said, throwing his arms up in the air.

Walter bent, his hands on his knees, frowning. "You had a head start."

"Your legs are longer than mine. With the distance of my head start, the total distance traveled, and the difference in the length of our strides, then not even factoring in my complete lack of athleticism, you still should have had a thirty yard advantage on me upon reaching the top," Ralph said, folding his arms. "You know I'm right."

Paige snickered behind her hand.

Walter lifted Ralph's hat off his head and mussed up his hair. "You want us all to go down together?"

Ralph nodded.

"Okay," Walter said. "So your mom is going to sit here, feet shoulder width apart, Paige," he instructed as she sat down on the sled, against the small, six inch seat back that came up from the base. "Put your heels against those, there you go. Now Ralph," he said, "sit there, between her knees, good, now just shuffle back so she can hold onto you."

"Hey bud," Paige said, curling her arms around her son and resting her chin on his shoulder.

Walter put a foot on the back of the sled, and his hands went to her shoulders. "Ready?"

There was a simultaneous "yes!" and Walter pushed off with one foot, dropping down as the sled started moving to a kneeling position behind Paige. The sled sped up, rising in the front ever so slightly when the hill flattened out briefly, due to the majority of the weight being on the back. Then the grade grew sharper, and Paige shrieked, and Ralph laughed, and Walter grinned ear to ear, and was still grinning when the sled, almost slow enough to stop, hit a log buried in the snow and dumped them all sideways.

"At least I don't have snow running down my back," Walter said, brushing it off his arms. He turned to pull the sled out of the pile of snow, only to be knocked forward by the impact of a snowball that hit him just above the neck. It broke apart on impact, chunks of it getting under his layers and chilling him. He turned again.

Paige, somehow wearing both a smirk and a completely innocent expression, was pointing at her son in accusation. The boy, however was making an identical gesture toward her – and after a moment Walter realized that Ralph's facial expression was indistinguishable from Paige's. Occasionally, despite how different they were, there were instances that absolutely confirmed without a doubt that this was mother and son. This was one of those times.

"I will figure out who is doing this," Walter said. "Even if I have to put a shock sensor on my back and determine the angle and force provided by the thrower. With your differences in height and arm strength, it'll be easy to determine your identity."

"See the thing is..." Paige said. "That isn't going to help you today."

Ralph stuck out his hand for a high five.

"What is it they say in the movies?" Walter asked. "It's on?" He reached for some snow.

"Don't look at me," Paige said. "I didn't do it."

"There's more disturbed snow on her side," Ralph said. "It's much easier for her to disguise a snowball creation site."

"He's got small hands," Paige said. "That snowball wasn't that big."

"You know, if you two weren't so busy giving opposing statements in a completely futile endeavor to agitate me," Walter said, "you wouldn't have given me time to make two snowballs!"

The Dineens shrieked and held up their hands as shields as he launched them in their direction.

Paige felt the mattress shift and immediately regretting checking her phone. Walter never slept well when they weren't at home; he was always on edge in an unfamiliar place, even when they weren't on a case. Her back was to him, she was facing Ralph's bed, but he must have seen the display light.

The mattress lurched, and then his arm was around her waist and his chin resting on her shoulder. "So who threw the snowballs, anyway?"

This is bothering him so much. She couldn't help it; she burst out laughing.

Hope you all enjoyed this fluffy (hopefully fun) Waige family fic! Happy holidays!