A/N: A winter themed story. This is if Christine had stayed with Erik. Thanks to the The Space Between. I was reading her new story, when I decided I wanted to write something. Check out her new one, "Eternity" if you are a "Twilight" fan.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Gaston Leroux owns "The Phantom of the Opera". Susan Kay owns "Phantom". Andrew Lloyd Webber owns "The Phantom of the Opera" musical.
A small, dark haired boy peeked out from behind a large blob of snow, surveying the area around him. The yard seemed very quiet and still, giving him a feeling of uncertainty. He cautiously stepped away from what appeared to be his fort, heading toward a pile of snow a few feet away. The pile was perfect for the snowballs he needed. He moved quickly, nearing the pile. But before he could form a chunk of the snow into a much needed snowball, he felt something hit his side. A woman's laughter sounded from behind him as he tumbled onto his side from the hit. And from the weight of the heavy jacket his mother insisted on him wearing.
A brown curly haired woman neared him, gently helping him up.
"Are you alright, Charlie?"
Christine asked her son, giggling slightly as she carefully wiped away the snow on the front of his jacket with her gloved hands. The four year old boy nodded, before vaulting on her. She cried out, her laughter increasing as he hurried off her to find more snow to fling at her. By the time she got up, he already had a snowball in his hand. Or rather, had a snowball in his hand. She felt the ball hit her left knee, and she fell down, feigning a defeat.
He hurried over to her, his turn to giggle.
"I got you mommy!" he cried, plopping down next to her.
She sat up, smiling as she drew him closer to her.
"My great warrior," she said, kissing him on his red cheek. She glanced toward the nearest window of the house, noticing that the curtain was swinging back and forth. She got up, picking up the small boy in her arms. "I think Daddy wants us to go back inside now," she said, glancing back at the now still curtains. Erik was most likely on his way to the back door, having left his vigil near the dining room window.
Her smile increased as she neared the back of the house, stopping at the corner. She set down Charles, gesturing to him not to run to the door. She bent down to form a snowball, her eyes still on the door from her hiding place. The back door to the kitchen opened, and Erik too a few steps from the door. He hadn't thrown a jacket on, so he stood outside in the cold in his dress sweater and dress pants. "Christine...Charles... I think the two of you should come in. I don't want you too to-"
He was cut off as a snowball connected with his shoulder. He stopped, as if stunned. Charles fell forward, laughing as he observed Erik wipe the snow from his shirt. Christine picked her son up, running to the door as if nothing happened. Her giggling clearly showed that she knew what had happened. "Thanks," she said, reaching up to give Erik a quick kiss on the cheek, before stepping into the warm house. He shook his head, smiling slightly as he followed his wife and son into the house.
A/N: Please review. Thanks.