When @xphile101 asked for a Barson ficbit, she probably wasn’t expecting the Midwestern Nice neighbors AU. (Neither was I. ^^;) Rated G.
Eight inches overnight, and more on the way: the forecast said ten to fifteen. School was cancelled. The police department stayed open, of course, no matter the weather, but Captain Cragen hadn’t batted an eye when the only single mom on the force asked for personal time. Olivia had barely finished making buttered toast for breakfast when Noah started bouncing at the table, clamoring to get outside.
“You wanna build a snowman while Mommy shovels?” she asked, and Noah whooped.
They suited up: snow pants, snow boots, puffy coats and thick, lined gloves. Olivia tugged Noah’s hat down over his ears, pulled up his hood, and shepherded him out the front door.
The cold struck their faces so hard they grinned at each other. Noah dashed into the yard and scooped up an armful of snow, flinging it wildly into the air. Fat flakes were still drifting earthward, idly for the moment, but Olivia knew the lull wouldn’t last. If nothing else, she’d get the driveway clear for now.
Even without a snow blower, she made short work of it, shoveling up a sweat in her down coat. When the drive was cleared, she stopped for a breather, hand propped on the shovel’s handle. Her breath puffed clouds in the flake-scattered air. She eyed the neighbor’s driveway with consideration.
There was no sign of the man himself, an attorney who’d moved from out East to take a job at a firm downtown. Something about family in the area, a mom or a grandma in declining health. Olivia had spoken to him directly only a handful of times. He seemed vaguely aloof on the best of days, overdressed in fancy suits, prim as a fussy cat. From what Olivia could tell, based on his pinched face every time she’d sighted him since December hit, he truly, deeply hated the cold.
Hefting her shovel, she crossed the yard into the neighboring drive.
She’d cleared a path to his front porch, and was starting on the porch itself when the door opened. Mr. Barba poked his head out. He wore a jacket over a sweater over a collared shirt, and looked like he regretted not wearing more.
His nostrils flared, turning violently pink. "Excuse me, what are you doing?“
Olivia raised her eyebrows. "Shoveling,” she said.
“Okay, but whyyy would you—” He squinted, visibly appalled at the brightness of the snow, as well as its quantity. Appalled and affronted. "I have a snow removal service for that.“
Olivia glanced up and down the driveway, then at the empty street. Even the city plows hadn’t come through yet.
"Well, they have yet to show up,” she observed, “and I’m here. I was doing mine anyway.”
Noah was flailing both arms for attention. In the front yard he’d rolled a snowball so big it would no longer budge. The snowman was fixing to be abominable in scope.
"Looks great, sweetie,” Olivia called. She turned back to Mr. Barba, who was hovering in the doorway, shrinking—shrinking further, rather—at the influx of cold air. It didn’t help that he was short to begin with. "Just trying to be neighborly,“ she said.
He looked flustered—less at the fact that a woman was shoveling his driveway, she thought, than that she was doing it without getting paid. But his "Thank you” sounded genuine enough. He squinted harder. "Do you, um.” He gestured at Olivia, at the open door. "Do you want some coffee?“
The flushed ears weren’t a bad look, Olivia decided. The pink nose maybe less so—shades of Rudolph the reindeer—but still, it was kind of cute. She waved across the yard at her son.
"Noah, put the snowman on hold a minute and come play in Mr. Barba’s yard, okay? Where Mommy can see you.” She watched to make sure Noah obeyed, then stepped onto the porch.
“I’d love some,” she said, and Mr. Barba straightened, blinking, as if he hadn’t really expected a yes. "Let me clear this off, and I’ll be right in.“
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