Heaven's Door

“We’re going to be sent after them,” Sam says.

He’s alone, standing at the bow, looking far below to the ice of Ijask stretched out as far as the eye can see.

It’s true, he knows, has known for a while, but saying it, even to himself and the cold air…

He wonders if they know what will happen if he were to hold onto Luke’s potential, for even a second.

It occurs to him that maybe they do, because two bird with one stone?

He shivers, deep inside four layers of wool and down.

The ice leaps towards the sky in sweeping spires, glittering in the early morning sun, and Sam might understand what Logan sees in this place.

Clouds gather overhead, throwing forbidding shadows on the ice below.

0---

“Sam, you’re being ridiculous,” Logan says, leaning out from the doorway, thick wool hat hugging his head, covering his ears. “It’s snowing. No, that doesn’t even begin to describe it. It’s… blizzarding?”

“That’s not a word,” Sam says, peering over the side, snow collecting on his head, shoulders, back. Much more of this and he might as well just stay there; add some cheer to the place, their very own ice sculpture.

“Doesn’t matter, get inside.”

“Boring.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh not you,” Sam says, turning away from the wind, snow blowing off him as he moves. “Well,” he pauses, “maybe you. Anyway, besides the point. There is nothing to do in there. At all.”

“Monopoly?”

“What? When did we get that?”

“Yesterday, when you were whining about the cold to anyone who’d listen, and that poor old granny got sucked in by your sob stories and dragged you off for a cup of hot cocoa,” Logan says, narrowing his eyes. “I hope you’re ashamed of yourself, by the way.”

Sam grins, brushing snow off his face with a bare hand, nails a nice, almost periwinkle, shade of blue.

“Oh just get in here,” Logan says, and turns away, back to the warmth of the inner ship.

0---

“Is that snow?”

“Never, what are you talking about?”

“Sam, it’s snowing on Park Place,” Logan says, gesturing at the offending localized weather.

“Don’t be silly.”

“Are we regretting standing in the cold for an hour?”

Sam glares at him, shivering, a pile of snow collecting at his horse’s hooves.

“That’ll be nine hundred dollars, by the way.”

0---

A return to 2007 Additions.