The morning sun glinted off the snow as Jim pulled the truck off the road at a likely looking spot. The two men got out and began shouldering their packs and equipment. Blair hefted an ax, while Jim carried a small saw.
"Which way?" Jim asked, deferring to his partner who was studying the landscape.
Blair pointed northwest. "There's a trailhead a hundred yards in this direction. Let's try that." He headed off resolutely, boots crunching through the lightly crusted snow.
A few long strides brought Jim up beside his partner. "So, just what, exactly, are you looking for in the perfect tree?" he wondered.
Blair was studying the evergreens they passed, head swiveling from side to side, in order not to miss anything. "Um, I dunno," he mumbled distractedly. "I'll know it when I see it."
"Where have I heard that before?" the put-upon Sentinel muttered to himself as he followed his partner deeper into the woods.
Finally, after trudging through knee-high drifts of snow for over two hours, Blair stopped and pointed. "There! That's the one, Jim!" He bounded over to a medium-sized fir tree and began pushing the snow away from the trunk.
"You're sure this time?" Jim had heard that particular phrase from Blair several times during their trek, and was beginning to doubt the young man really knew what he wanted.
"Oh, yeah, Jim. This is it. Come on over; help me out here." He hacked off several of the lower branches to give them clear access to the trunk.
Jim brought over the saw and, together, they began to cut their way through the four-inch thick trunk. When the tree finally fell, both men were tired, but triumphant.
"I think you're right," Jim commented, looking at their prize lying in the snow. "That's a real beauty. We'd better start back, though. I felt a drop in the barometric pressure a while back. I think we're in for a storm."
"You could feel that?" Blair's scientific antennae tweaked.
"Give it a rest, Darwin," Jim growled. "We can discuss it later. Right now, we need to get back to the truck." He shouldered the heavy trunk, while Blair took up the rear.
The return trip was slower going, as the heavy tree hampered their progress. The wind was picking up, too, and they were walking straight into it.
"Think you can speed it up back there?" Jim called over his shoulder. "I don't think we have a lot of time left."
"I'm trying, man," Blair panted.
"Try harder," Jim snapped, picking up the pace, causing the smaller man to have to jog to catch up. Within minutes, blinding snow swirled around them and the pair had to stop.
Jim squinted through the storm, but even he could no longer follow the trail back to the road. Setting the tree down, he turned to Blair. "If we keep walking, we're going to get lost," he explained. "Our best bet would be to find some shelter and wait out the storm."
They both looked around, trying to spot some protection. Finally, Blair pointed to a deep snowbank which had piled up against a small stand of trees. "Over there. We could dig a cave in the snow." He headed over and began throwing out handfuls of snow in an attempt to tunnel inward.
Jim slipped off his heavy pack and rummaged through it, pulling out a small, collapsible shovel. He dug into the snowbank with a strength lent of desperation. Although it was nearly noon, the temperature had dropped below freezing and he could see that Blair's purposeful movements were becoming more sluggish.
Within minutes, he had hollowed an area barely large enough to shelter the two men and their packs. He shoved Blair inside and began gathering snow to close up the entrance. He left a small hole in their doorway to let fresh air circulate. Falling against the back wall of their shelter, he closed his eyes in exhaustion.
"I'm sorry." The soft voice floated across the enclosed space.
Jim opened his eyes. "Nothing to be sorry for," he assured his mate.
"If I hadn't insisted on coming out here for the perfect tree. . . . I could have settled for one from the corner lot."
"You couldn't have predicted a freak snowstorm," Jim comforted. "Besides, you had the right idea. This was kind of fun, up until the storm hit."
"Really?" The hopeful note in the soft voice was almost the Sentinel's undoing.
He wrapped his arms around the younger man and pulled him into his lap. "Yeah, really. Don't go guilt tripping on me, okay? Remember, I agreed to this."
"Okay." Blue eyes looked up into his, and Jim was startled to see the usually lush red lips also had a blue tinge. He realized, suddenly, that the man in his arms wasn't even shivering. Blair was always cold, even on the warmest winter days. Long, dark lashes brushed his cheeks as he struggled to keep his eyes open.
"Aw, shit," Jim muttered, making an awkward grab for his backpack and rooting through the contents. He pulled out a mylar emergency blanket, shook it open and wrapped it around the body he cradled. "We've gotta get you warm, Babe. Don't go to sleep on me, okay?" He rubbed at Blair's rosy cheeks, trying to stimulate the circulation.
"Jim?"
"Yeah, Sweetheart?"
"Cold."
"Yeah, I know." He looked down into the trusting face turned up to his, his heart nearly breaking with fear. Instinctively, he leaned down, capturing the bluish lips with his own warm ones. At first, there was no response. Jim dove deeper, pushing the slack jaw open with his tongue and tasting the unique flavor of his Guide.
Blair stirred, slipping his arms out from the protection of the blanket to wrap them around the Sentinel. Jim's heart skipped a beat when he felt a warm tongue come to life and do battle with his own. He tipped sideways, laying them down, using Blair's pack as a pillow, and continued the kiss, coming up only occasionally for needed oxygen. The small cave began to warm significantly, as their body heat rose.
Blair finally pushed against the shoulders that held him pinned to the ground. "I always knew you were a hot lover," he joked. "Thanks, Jim. You did it again."
"Did what again?" Jim pushed himself up so he could look at his partner.
"Saved my life."
"You are not going to start that 'Blessed Protector' thing again, are you?"
"Whoa, Jim. Hold up a minute. No way." Blair scooted in the small confines of the cave until he was sitting up. "I just meant to thank you. You know I'd do the same for you, have done the same for you."
"Point taken." Jim grinned, happy to see his lover back to his scrappy, confrontational self. "Hungry?"
"Famished! What've we got?"
Jim dug through his pack, while Blair looked through his own. Between the two of them, they produced a couple thermoses of hot coffee, four sandwiches, some fresh fruit, trail mix and beef jerky.
"Enough for a feast," Jim declared, watching as Blair wrapped his hands around a thermos and sipped delightedly at the hot brew. "But we've got to ration it out, just in case. No telling how long we'll be here." He handed Blair a sandwich and an apple. They began to eat in silence, savoring the flavors in a way they hadn't taken time to for longer than either could remember.
When they were finally finished, Blair yawned expressively. "Any chance we can get some sleep in here?" he asked.
"I don't know why not," Jim answered. "But not both of us at once. One needs to stay awake to watch for signs of hypothermia. You go ahead and sleep first."
"No, Jim," Blair said, surprising the tough cop. "You're the one who did most of the work here, including, um, nursing me back to consciousness." He smiled. "I'll take the first watch."
"You sure?"
"Absolutely." Blair pulled Jim's head down into his lap and began petting the short, military-cut hair. The rhythmic stroking soon put the big man to sleep.
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