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Austin raced around a mogul, jumped and slid to a roaring stop, snowplowing a huge face full of fresh dry powder across Tracy's path. His eyes met hers. Challenge, pure and simple. It was a challenge.

She took off, racing him, jumping the smaller moguls, she wasn't as confident at them as he was, but she was fast. She felt him close by her, as they sped at their faster speeds towards the straightaway. Air whooshed by, her braids flew back from her face, her ears peeked out beneath the hat, her goggles were forced back against her face.

But Tracy veered into Austin's path, he'd have to back off or fall, and she reached the bottom first, crashing into the snow break two seconds before he did. She clicked out of her boots, just as he grabbed her and lifted her clear off her feet, dangling ski's as he threw snow into her face, white washing her effectively.

She laughed, choked, screamed, and threw snow back at him, but he was too big, and too crazy to get really good. He held her hands so she couldn't reach the snow, he held her middle, so that she was incapacitated, and he still managed to make her eat it.

Little boys crashed into them for some action, Kelly, Steven, Danny and Chris. Yelling: handfuls of snow flying. Austin managed to grab them as well and shove them all face down into the soft new powder, dousing them each in its slippery wetness.

Later, back at the house, the boys were thoroughly ensconced in a game of transformers, a huge fort going on downstairs, and new transformer boxes were everywhere. Tracy, in the kitchen with a cookbook and a large pot, Austin chopping celery, a large chef's apron on, whispered softly.

It was about Lisa. Lisa had not come skiing, she had not come upstairs when asked to help with the soup for dinner, she said she wasn't feeling well, but Austin had spoken to her, tried to make her comfortable, and she'd been petulant, typically irritated, wanting attention, and in typical Austin fashion, he'd gotten his dander up and left her there to pout. He shouldn't have told Tracy about it, he should have left it between himself and Lisa, but for some reason, seeing Tracy there in the kitchen, white sweats, and very old, ratty gray sweatshirt, sleeves pushed up, long hair tied back in a messy bun, pink socks and white fluffy slippers that had obviously seen better days, felt so comfortable. Initially, he had tried to simply say Lisa was not feeling well, but the look on his face was easily read by someone who knew him as well as Tracy did. Not that she would pry, he knew she wouldn't. But he found himself elaborating softly, which turned into a vent session, and that ended abruptly with the front door opening and Lisa throwing her bag out the door and slamming it behind her.

Austin raced down the stairs, skidded to a halt at the door, ran a hand through very short, close-cropped blonde hair, and then went out to hopefully smooth things over.

Tracy pursed her lips, went and diced the rest of the celery and scraped it carefully off the cutting board and into her pot, where a delicious chicken and rice aroma was bubbling. After a few seconds and a quick glance told her that Lisa was in her car, and backing out, and Austin, in socks was following her down the driveway, in the lightly blowing snow, she left her pot to go get him dry socks, and beefed up the fireplace. A part of her felt bad for Lisa, she should have come skiing with them, instead of leaving them alone on the mountain, sharing the experience. That was the ticket... she mused, if you want to keep your guy, share experiences with him, don't just expect him to share your experiences with you. She glanced out the window again, there was a van parked across the street, they were closer to the new house, the one she was just finishing, she probably could have stayed there if she'd wanted, and maybe should have, it was almost ready, but the downstairs carpet wasn't in, and the kitchen wasn't stocked. She could have asked someone to get her kitchen stuff and stock it for her, someone like who? An assistant... back to that subject, she'd never even confronted Michael about the agent thing either. She opened the can of water chestnuts and dumped the juice out, she began to chop them very fine. She absolutely couldn't go to him outside. It was bad enough she'd seen the tabloids at the grocery store a little while ago.... She couldn't complicate it.

He came back in. Boys came rushing by, flying Transformers making buzzing and galloping noises. He snapped at them to get downstairs, and Tracy gave him a warning look, so he apologized as they came to a skidding halt, and then he tackled them, making the error look like a means to get them, which they liked, and they ran screaming pell- mell back the way they had come. Tracy glanced out the window once more. The gated driveway was open, a group of artlessly tactless people with cameras were making their way up the drive in the snow, sneaking... which was pointless. She picked up her cell phone which was on the counter and called Austin's security guy who was out in his car somewhere, and then she pushed the button on the remote control gate, and watched in amusement as the people began to run for the slight opening as it shut them in incriminating them.

He came back up the stairs apologizing for his rough outburst. She smiled encouragingly, "It's okay." She said, gently. "Pretty bad, huh?"

"She says she's not feeling well, she says the kids are too loud..."

"But really..." Tracy shrugged while scraping onion into the soup and not looking at him at all, "It's the fact that I am here."

"Not vocalized, but yeah, truth be told, yeah."

"Not over the jealousy? Doesn't want you to have friends, or just me?"

"Don't know." He came around the side of the counter and took the knife away to continue to dice onions, and she didn't have the heart to tell him they didn't need any more, so she let him do it, to take his concentration off Lisa. She figured she'd intercept the dicing before he could....whoops, he scraped it all into the pot in determination, too late! Tracy peered into the soup in mild disappointment. Um.... Lots of onion.... So much for a first attempt at soup. She mentally smiled to herself and then rearranged her face to be attentive if he needed her to be.

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