Jopper's Holiday

Snowball fight

December fifth

There are rules, and Joyce knows this. Whoever arrives last to the snowball fight consents to being bombarded by all other participants, three shots each. The thing is that she has no intention of joining the battle and, besides, she's an adult - surely there are exemptions. Her only reason for venturing into the backlot at all is to let Will know that Hopper will be here any minute to take her to the movies.

It's early evening and already dark. Joyce scans the woods, surrounded by snow twinkling in the moonlight. She can hear whispers. "Let's do it." "I won't do it, it's your Mom." Will and Lucas, debating.

Without warning, a damp snowball strikes Joyce in the chest, and she lets out a melodramatic shriek. "Okay, very funny. That was a good one, Will, but I just came out here to tell you..." A second snowball grazes her shoulder. Her son giggles from behind a small snowbank, and Joyce is about to mount a counter-attack when she hears footsteps approaching from behind.

Will's third and final projectile is launched, missing Joyce by inches but hitting Hopper directly in the face. "What the hell?" he mutters, dusting bits of ice from his beard. "Joyce, I heard you scream – is everything all right?"

The whispers among the trees have renewed. "Hit the Chief." "No, you hit him." Hopper is the new target, but due to the boys' poor aim – and general anxiety about assaulting an officer of the law - Joyce bears the brunt of the onslaught.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Hopper is saying, each syllable getting progressively louder. "Will! I know you're out there. Give your mother a break."

A grinning Will appears obediently from behind a tree and Joyce informs him of the evening's plan. "The Wheelers are expecting you for dinner at 7. Jonathan will come for you at 9:30. I love you!"

Joyce is shivering as she walks with Hopper through the woods towards the driveway. "I think one of those snowballs got me in the neck, and now my sweater feels disgusting. I'm going to run in and change."

"Thanks for taking all those shots for me, by the way," Hopper chuckles. "That was sweet of you." Refusing to let Jim off easy, she crouches down, wads up some snow between her mittens and, making as if to put her arm around him, instead pulls back his coat collar and drops the frozen surprise down his back. Hopper shouts something incomprehensible as she makes a run for it, but he doesn't give much chase. Shaking the snow out of his coat, he calls, "don't worry, I'll get you back." As she heads into the house, he's standing by his truck, lighting up a smoke.

Joyce has discarded her sweater and is digging through the closet when she hears Hopper come in. She's unsurprised, as he rarely misses an opportunity to observe her in a state of undress. "I'll just be a minute, Hop," she says. In a moment, his hand is on her shoulder, and she turns to face him. He bends to kiss her, softly at first, then with more fervor and Joyce doesn't notice the snowball in his hand until he is brushing it across her collarbone, sending a trickle of icy water between her breasts. Hopper unhitches her bra and touches the last of the melting snow to her nipple, as Joyce giggles and pants into his mouth.

"I told you I'd get you back," he whispers into her ear, stopping to lick the cool water from her warm skin. Joyce is quivering, the sensation of Hopper's tongue giving her body new chills.

"Mmmm. So we're even. Now you've got to warm me up." Joyce purrs as Hopper glances up at her, and just the suggestive look in his eyes is enough to raise her body temperature by several degrees.