"Tegwen?" Whispered Steelbeak.

"I'm listening," she replied, her hands still clinging to his arms.

It was the most they'd ever touched when she was conscious and not completely drunk. And not hating him.

Slowly, Steelbeak reached up to brush the curls away from her cheek.

"I'm. . . listening," she repeated.

He nodded slightly, just barely leaning in for a kiss.

Suddenly she jerked back, shaking her head violently, her hands tightening around his arms.

"I'm sorry --"

"No, no!" Tegwen replied. Her face was a deep red. "Something landed on my bill and -- it -- just took me by surprise!"

Slowly, Steelbeak smiled. "I t'aught dat mighta been my fault."

She shook her head again and this time Steelbeak saw the snowflakes as they assaulted her bill. He'd long since forgotten what something like that even felt like. Gently, he brushed them off with the tip of his pinkie.

"We can, uh, still skate -- if ya want," he said.

Tegwen was leaning heavily against him and he thought he could feel her heart pounding even through all their many layers of clothing. With her athletic physique, he doubted her racing pulse had anything to do with what little exertion there had been so far in what could very loosely be described as a skating lesson.

"I -- I don't . . ." Somehow, Tegwen's fingers managed to entwine with his.

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