Cold and Wet is My World - LilyK

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"Yeah. No campfires. What am I going to burn, man? Cold and wet is my world." ~~Blair Sandburg, Survival

~~~~~

"J--Jim? Jim!"

"Here. Stay right there. Don't... move."

"Jim?"

"I'm here, Chief. Calm down. Blair, damn it! Listen to me."

"S--sorry."

"Listen to me. We'll be okay."

"I--I'm okay. Jim..."

"I've got you, Chief. Just relax for a sec."

"No. It's too hard for you. I'm okay. My feet... I can't..."

"You need to get rid of that heavy coat and the hiking boots. It will be easier."

"Yeah, right."

"Let me help. Don't let the life vest go. It's a hell of a long way to go."

"Jim... My fingers are getting cold..."

"I know. Mine, too. Move to your back and let me untie your boots. They're weighing you down."

"Right. Okay."

"Damn. The laces are all tight now that they're... Hang on... Got one. Just a bit more... Okay. Now come closer and we'll get rid of that jacket."

"I'm so cold. How far do you think?"

"About three miles."

"Three miles!"

"Sandburg, just relax. It will be okay. I'll help you."

"Jim, man. I mean, I can swim, but it's too damned cold to swim three miles. Besides..."

"Your heart's racing. You have to calm down."

"Sorry... I don't want to drown again."

"God, Chief. I know that! Please... You're not going to drown."

"You're here this time."

"Yes, I'm here this time."

"Thanks."

"Save it, Sandburg. This is my fault. Again."

"No! No, Jim. It's... I can't get this last button."

"Hang onto that vest and let me. Now put it back on and relax."

"It's not your fault."

"Yes, it was, and it is."

"You didn't know she was going to kill me."

"Damn it anyway. We've never even talked about it!"

"It's okay, Jim."

"No, it's not. And now..."

"And now I'm not drowning again. You just said so."

"You -- trust me that much? How can you?"

"Because..."

"Chief?"

"Jim, listen. God, I'm so cold."

"Keep moving."

"Is that an order?"

"Yes."

"I'm moving. How much farther?"

"Still about the same, Chief. We've only gone a few hundred feet."

"Is that all?"

"Keep moving."

"Jim, it didn't hurt much -- after a while."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, man."

"No, it's not! And if I hadn't done what I just did, then we wouldn't be freezing our asses off right now three miles from shore!"

"Calm down. I wanted to take the canoe out as much as you did."

"But you didn't make us get dumped into the water. I did. If I had been doing my job -- being a Sentinel, this wouldn't have happened!"

"So you regret it."

"Yes. No! No, not a bit! God, you are exasperating! Blair... Sandburg!"

"Sor -- sorry. I'm moving."

"Ever since Alex, you've been prone to bronchitis. You've had it twice, Chief! Now this. I can hear your lungs straining. That fucking bitch!"

"You're changing the... subject. How much farther?"

"About two and a quarter miles. We'll make..."

"Jim!"

"Sorry. Got water in my mouth. I'm heading right for the camp. This way we can get a fire going pronto."

"Whatever, man. I'm just following you here."

"I don't regret it."

"Me neither."

"Let me rephrase that."

"Please don't!"

"It's okay, Chief. I don't regret kissing you. I do regret not paying attention enough to hear the motor boat bearing down on us... and I sincerely regret that I wasn't able to get the canoe out of the way before he ran us over."

"Oh, okay, then. I regret that..."

"Keep moving."

"Have to rest, Jim. I've having trouble breathing."

"It's the cold."

"But it's not that cold out."

"Don't forget that this lake is fed by mountain streams. The snow that's melting into the streams is damned cold."

"Thank you, Mr. Science."

"Smart ass. How are you doing, Sandburg?"

"Did you mean it?"

"What? The kiss? Yeah, I meant it. Are you -- freaked?"

"Yeah, I guess I am, but in a -- good way."

"There's hot soup back at camp. Keep thinking hot thoughts."

"Hot thoughts? Man, I'm thinking hot thoughts."

"Oh? Oh! Okay. Good."

"Jim?"

"Keep moving, Chief."

"I got to stop for a minute."

"Okay. Float on your back and I'll haul you along."

"No, it's too hard for you. You don't have a life jacket on. I told you to put one on."

"I was going to. I guess I got sidetracked. Besides, I'm a strong swimmer. When I was with the Rangers, we had to tread for six hours during the final test."

"I hate to break this to you, man, but that was twenty years ago."

"Oh, right. But I'm in good shape for a... That's it, just relax for a sec. I'll stop and take a breather, too."

"For a...?"

"For a guy my age."

"Jim?"

"Right here, Chief."

"Will you kiss me again? You know, just in case."

"There's no just in case, Sandburg! And yes, I'd love to. Although I'm surprised you want me to considering that I got us into this fucked-up situation in the first..."

"How was that?"

"Your lips are cold."

"Sorry. Yours are too."

"It was nice."

"Yeah, it was."

"Time to move it, soldier."

"Bite me."

"Is that an invitation?"

"How far?"

"Please, Chief. It will be okay. About a mile and three-quarters. We're doing good."

"It will be dark before we get to shore."

"I know the way."

"I didn't doubt you. I trust you."

"You shouldn't. If I had heard the motor and I had been able to get us out of the way..."

"The fog was so thick, not even you could see ten feet away."

"But still..."

"No buts. He didn't even slow down. Drunk, maybe?"

"Maybe. When he hit us, it made a big enough thunk. Probably thought it was a submerged log or something."

"Yeah, prob..."

"Blair! Damn it, Sandburg! Blair, where are you? Blair! Blair! Damn fucking fog! Blair!"

"J--Jim?"

"I'm keeping a hold of your shirt."

"No, man. It's too hard for you to... too hard one-handed. I'll be okay."

"You're freezing."

"So are you."

"But my lungs aren't fucked up like yours are from the shit you sucked in from the fountain. The doctor said..."

"Yeah, I know."

"It's been almost two years."

"He said -- that the infection from the dirty water would have some... some residual effects, but would eventually dissipate. It's better now. Honest, Jim."

"Yeah, right. Well, this isn't helping one bit! Keep moving and don't you dare pass out on me."

"I'll try. And I trust you. And..."

"And...?"

"I'm -- in love with you."

"God, Blair."

"You're upset."

"No, I'm not upset. I'm -- speechless."

"Not a big change for you."

"Sandburg!"

"What?"

"How long? For how long?"

"I don't know. I didn't write it down! Well, actually..."

"You wrote it down! Keep moving, Chief."

"I have to rest again. Sorry. I'm sorry."

"Shhh. It's okay. Turn over and rest. Just a second. It's too cold to stop."

"Thanks, man. August 18th."

"What?"

"August 18th. I wrote it down."

"Oh! This year or last?"

"Last."

"Ah, Chief?"

"I'm right here, Jim. Frozen but alive."

"I've got a confession to make."

"Shoot."

"I didn't kiss you just because I wanted to jump your bones."

"No? Well, damn."

"Smart mouth. That's part of it, but I'm in love with you, too."

"Oh? You're not just saying that... Sentinel imperative and all."

"No, I'm not just saying that."

"How much farther?"

"About a mile."

"Really? Man, time flies when you're having fun."

"We're making progress here, Chief."

"It's because we're together. Jim."

"I know... It's not Sentinel imperative. It's -- Blair imperative."

"Oh? Is this some new manifestation of your latent abilities now rising to the surface?"

"Your lips are frozen! We have to keep moving. Come on."

"Don't yank on my shirt!"

"Sorry."

"I'm sorry I yelled. You're helping me here, and I r-rreally ap-p-ppreciate it. You... you..."

"Sandburg... Chief! Come on, buddy. Don't do this to me. We're almost there. Just a bit more."

"Huh? Jim?"

"Yeah, Blair. Good. Stay awake. Almost there."

"Okay. I'm good."

"I know. Move closer. I need to have you closer."

"I'm closer, man."

"Move it, Sandburg!"

"How much farther?"

"Almost there. Less than half a mile."

"Half a mile? That's not too bad, is it?"

"Nope. We're doing great."

"Jim, man. I'm really tired. Actually, more cold than..."

"Chief?"

"I'm moving."

"I'm sorry to be such a hard ass, but we have to keep moving or we'll freeze to death."

"I know. It's because you can't let me die again."

"Right. I can't let you die again -- if I can help it."

"Don't want to die again either."

"Good. Then keep moving! Here. Put your arm around my waist."

"I can't feel my arm."

"That's it. Walk, Sandburg. Put your feet down and walk."

"Cool. Earth."

"Yeah, earth. We're almost... Come on, Blair. Get up. Come on, buddy."

"I'm up."

"No, you're lying down."

"I am?"

"Yes. Let's get the fire going."

"Can't I get out of these clothes first? Jim, man. Your lips are blue."

"No shit. You can't rest just yet. You need to keep your blood flowing. Now get up!"

"Don't yell at me! I'm cold!"

"I know, damn it. Up!"

"I'm up! See?"

"Good. I've got you. Walk. One foot. Other foot. Good boy."

"You make me sound like a damned dog."

"You look like a drowned rat."

"Thank God, the camp!"

"Fire in two minutes. The wood's ready and it didn't rain, although the damp air probably won't help. If I let you sit, will you promise not to pass out on me? No sleeping either."

"I swear it."

"If you do, I'm slapping you silly."

"I'm already silly, man. I'm in love with you."

"Smart ass."

"I can't see a thing! It's so damned dark!"

"No moon tonight, Chief. Fog, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, right."

"Talk to me. The fire's starting. In five minutes, you can get out of those wet clothes and into dry ones."

"I enjoy our camping weekends."

"I do too. At least, I used to."

"It was just a weird fluke."

"I thought you didn't believe in random occurrences."

"Do you always listen to what I say?"

"Yes."

"Why do you think my initials are B.S.? Say, Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"Ah, I'd rather get into the sleeping bag with you."

"Oh?"

"Is that -- okay?"

"Better than okay. That'd be fun."

"Cool..."

"Keep talking. Sandburg!"

"Wha...?"

"You're drifting. Come on. Up and at 'em."

"Don't want to. Want to sleep."

"You can sleep in ten minutes."

"Oh... warm! You lit a fire!"

"Good observation, Detective."

"It feels nice."

"Strip 'em off."

"Okay. Fucking fingers... Damn... Why are wet jeans so... fucking hard to remove? Hate wet socks... cold... cold..."

"Hurry up. Let me help."

"Jim, man. You're naked."

"I have a dry shirt on."

"But no pants, man. I can see your dick."

"I can see yours, too."

"So we're even, huh?"

"Put this on. Not your right arm, your left... Never mind."

"Want coffee..."

"Let's get into dry clothes first. Left leg. Right leg. Now socks. My fingers aren't working well enough to make coffee right this minute."

"Okay. I can do the socks. Thanks. You put yours on. I'm watching... I need a towel or shirt or something. Want to wrap up this hair so it doesn't freeze and break off. Oh, cool! The shared body-heat thingy! I've seen this on television. It always works!"

"Here you go. Let me. Okay. Get in. Move over a bit. Okay. Good. Ouch! Easy, I might need those later! Don't laugh at... God! You're freezing! Hang on. Let me zip the side..."

"You're not exactly toasty."

"Stop shivering!"

"That's not me, that's you."

"Oh. Here. Slide over this way. Okay. Right. There! Stop. Don't move. I don't want the sleeping bag to catch fire."

"Geez, you're fucking bossy. Ah, Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm laying on top of you."

"I know. Feels -- good, except for the frozen fingers you insist on touching me with!"

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks, man. Love you..."

"Sure. Happy to help. Sandburg? You fall asleep faster than anybody on the planet. We'll talk more later, after we've warmed up. We'll make some soup and after that, who knows? More kissing sounds good. Love you, too..."

The End

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Author's notes: A huge thank you to Chris, Debra and Rosie for the beta and input on this story. They were kind enough to read my little bit of experimental fun. Thanks to Patt for the great art. Your pics always adds that bit of pizzazz to my rambles. And a big thank you to Blue Tatoo for the cover art.