Damn, but it was cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey!

Buck Wilmington yanked another blanket off of the pile on the floor next to him and wrapped it around his broad shoulders. Lord, it was cold. And damn boring, too. No TV, no stereo and no company, although he was trying hard to ignore that little fact. He’d even long since abandoned trying to read: his stiff fingers, too frozen to coordinate flipping the pages, made the effort futile.

Despite his self-imposed predicament, Buck chuckled as he looked at the thick, worn paperback resting amid the clutter on his coffee table.

Tolkein.

"The Hobbit", specifically.

Even though they’d seen "Lord of the Rings," his young roommate had insisted that Buck read "The Hobbit" before starting "The Rings" trilogy. And so Buck had deferred to the kid’s expertise in matters of fantasy – well, at least that kind of fantasy – borrowed the kid’s much-loved novel, and was beginning at the beginning, with Bilbo’s story.

He wasn’t regretting it. Actually he’d been devouring the pages in his spare time at a pretty steady clip. Until recently. Just then another involuntary shiver picked that moment to remind him why he’d finally had to set down the book. Very recently. Right up until his fingers had seized up on him tonight.

Buck knew the concept of him reading a novel such as this was at odds with his image. Hell, anything other than "Playboy" or "Guns & Ammo" probably would’ve been a shocker to most.

And even for those who knew him better, at least the Clancy’s and Grisham’s lining his bookshelves, or the Louis L’Amour’s that JD and he had duplicate copies of, seemed more likely but, the fact was, Buck truly enjoyed reading just about anything that was well-written.

It was a luxury he had granted himself back in college, when he’d finally and for once in his life stayed in one place for any length of time. Three whole years. . . as opposed to three months tops.

Elementary reading and book reports just weren’t conducive to the nomadic lifestyle he and his mom had led while he was growing up. Hell, even as good as he was at sports – once his muscle and coordination caught up to the growth spurts, that is – team sports and most competitions had always been out of the question, too. Oh well, he’d made up for that in college too, he thought, with no little hint of pride.

But with the power off in the entire building and damn near the whole city, he’d been grateful for his so-called uncharacteristic interest in literature. It sure did pass the time. Yet, as night fell in Denver, along with the temperatures, it had gotten just too damn cold to hold onto the book, let alone turn the pages.

Not to mention the fact that he knew better than to waste precious battery power in the various flashlights and bigger portable lights he and JD had collected amongst their ATF and camping supplies.

Besides, the elusive warmth of the candles burning throughout the room was actually kind of pleasant. Of course given the choice, if there had to be candlelight, he’d much prefer to be snuggled up on the couch sharing his sleeping bag with Terri, along with a bottle of wine, rather than sitting here all alone on a Saturday night pretending – only to himself, and not very successfully at that – that he wasn’t waiting up for his kid brother.

But Terri had understandably been forced to cancel any plans they’d made for this weekend. Just like all of Denver’s finest and emergency personnel throughout the city and neighbouring communities, their social lives were going to be put on hold for a while. At least until the city had a chance to thaw out.

He’d still taken the time to meet her yesterday for a quick bite to eat in "4C" General’s cafeteria, but the hospital was in total chaos. Buck and Terri’d barely sat down at a table together when her pager went off. He certainly couldn’t begrudge her being needed elsewhere.

Although he wondered sometimes how Nathan and Rain managed.

Despite Terri’s speciality in orthopaedics, she was staying at the hospital like Rain and everyone else in the medical profession within the city.

Whether she was putting back together the bullet-shattered leg of the ATF’s youngest agent like she had six months earlier, or helping out in the ER stitching up yet another victim who’d slipped and fallen on the ice that had coated the city in the past 48 hours, Terri was a doctor through and through. She treated all her patients with equal care, a fact that had compelled Buck to ask her out well after JD was on the mend and in the care of the physical therapists. Terri had continued to check up on the boy’s progress with a genuine interest and concern that damn near outdid Buck’s. Definitely a woman after his own heart.

And definitely a lady who was going to be too busy for Buck Wilmington in the upcoming days. And nights.

Gotta love Denver in the winter, he sighed.

Though the meteorologists had predicted nasty weather on its way, no one had anticipated the intensity of the ice storm Denver had been slapped with. And was still being hit with for that matter.

The media were already deeming it the "storm of the new century" and Buck couldn’t really argue the claim. He’d never seen anything like it. It was as though the city was paralysed. Power lines were down everywhere and parts of the city were suffering total blackouts. Their own building had survived the first onslaught thanks to the backup generator, but it only had enough juice to keep the place functional with limited emergency power for an additional 24 hours. Buck risked a glance at his wristwatch, not really wanting to know just how late it was getting but curious to know how long the building had been out of its reserve power.

Roughly five hours. No wonder he was freezing his ass off here.

He really hoped JD had the wherewithal to stay at Nettie’s place again tonight. Or even Chris’, which was an infinitely closer drive from Nettie’s than home. Problem was, Buck couldn’t reach him to tell him not to come until daylight. Telephone lines were down and getting a cellular connection was damn near impossible, which was why after work had shut down early yesterday, JD had taken Buck’s truck and made the trek to Nettie’s in the first place.

Buck couldn’t blame him for his concern. The ice was so bad that the roads were treacherous, as was anywhere you planted your boots truth be told. It didn’t make Wilmington any happier though, knowing that JD was out in the mess, along with Nettie and Casey. Just gave him one more person to worry over.

‘Course worrying over JD wasn’t exactly a novel concept for Buck. ‘Novel’, he chuckled. Shit, the cold was making him downright loopy.

He’d wanted to go along with JD, but he knew he was needed here as well. Helping his neighbors, especially the elderly ones, batten down their respective hatches as they all cleared out of their homes in search of shelter with heat and water was, well, simply the neighborly thing to do. And so he’d stayed.

As far as Buck knew, he was now the last in the building. Bill Cooper, their building management rep, had left around 9:00 to join his wife at the in-laws’ place and would be back to check on the building at first light.

Hopefully Buck would be on his way to Chris’ by then. And not still wondering over the whereabouts of one wayward, pint-sized ATF agent.

The plan had been for Buck and JD to head over to Chris’ place as soon as they had packed a couple of days’ worth of belongings. His wood stoves sure sounded mightily inviting about now.

But since he hadn’t been able to reach JD to know if the kid was still going to try coming home, Buck refused to leave any sooner. Not that he had a vehicle at the moment, come to think of it. Shit, he’d forgotten just how trapped he really was. The cold really was beginning to get to him.

He hated not being in touch with his friends as it was, not knowing if they were all still okay. Thanks to a clear, albeit brief cellular connection, Buck knew that Vin and Chris had made it out to the ranch last night, easing his mind about those two. He also knew Nathan was staying close to Rain right at the hospital – to keep a protective eye on his lady no doubt, and to help out wherever his EMT skills were required. So, he felt pretty secure in assuming that three of the team were fine, four if he included his own slightly chilled butt.

Josiah, on the other hand, was likely freezing his ass off too at the shelter. Knowing that the homeless suffered most in weather such as this and that the big-hearted man would be doing whatever he could to make those poor souls as comfortable as possible, Buck couldn’t help but worry for Josiah.

Sanchez was Team Seven’s confessor and counsellor, big brother to all of them and, seemingly because of that, seldom did he turn to any of them for support. Buck knew there’d be casualties amongst the homeless, the weak, and the poor this weekend. Hell, logically Josiah would know the same. Still, the kind-hearted soul would be hurting because of it, especially without his friends there to stand beside him.

Maybe he could detour to the mission before he headed out to the ranch tomorrow? Sure, once he knew the kid was warm and safe, Buck could do that.

Speaking of warm. . .

Now, Ezra was another story. Slick as ever, good ole Ezra Standish had managed to beat the storm and fly off down to Tahoe for a planned long weekend. Buck knew there’d be some major gloating on his part once he got back home.

Wilmington had to grin at that. As much as Ezra had been looking forward to his getaway, Buck damn well knew his friend would be thinking about those left behind and probably not relaxing much at all. The southerner had managed to get an email through to them in the office asking about everyone, and JD had responded saying everything was A-okay. But that was yesterday. They hadn’t communicated since, and Buck just hoped Ezra would use his smarts to stay where it was warm and dry and not try to get into the city when everyone else in their right mind was trying to clear out.

In other words, not do exactly what JD was undoubtedly trying to do tonight, damnit all.

"Genius, my ass," Buck grumbled half-heartedly. He just knew JD would try to get home tonight. The kid had been torn between wanting to help Buck with their neighbors and his desire to check on the well-being of the Welles. Hell, the boy had so much as said he’d come home tonight no matter what. Back when they’d thought their home was still warm, had light, and hot water wasn’t considered a luxury.

Unlike now.

Well, icebox that it was, this place was still home and Buck sure as hell wished the kid would hurry the hell up and get here. So it could actually start feeling a little more like home again.

+++

As if on cue, what could only be described as a thud against his door broke Buck from his reverie. "JD, that you?" Buck called, as he climbed out of his sleeping bag. Not getting an answer, he wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and plodded his way to the entrance, flashlight in hand, wondering why the kid wasn’t letting himself in on his own. The door wasn’t locked.

The second he swung it open though, Buck had his answer. "Oh, shit, JD. What the hell happened?" The kid was soaked, shivering like a dog shittin’ razor blades and white as the driven snow they were all-too-familiar with at the moment. Except for the painful looking red scrape that ran from the kid’s left cheekbone right down to his jaw-line that is.

Buck gingerly touched the wound, then moved his hand through the icy black hair searching for more lumps or dried blood that might explain his dazed condition. "How bad you hurt, boy?"

No answer seemed to be forthcoming, in fact the kid seemed completely out of it, which did nothing to alleviate Buck’s concerns. One thing he was sure of, though. JD did not get this cold and wet simply by making his way from the parking lot to the building.

Buck pulled the too compliant agent in from the hallway and proceeded to strip off his outer layers of clothing. The minute he touched the kid’s sleeve and could feel the chill of the fabric penetrate his own skin, he worriedly picked up the pace. The jacket was supposed to be waterproof, but the kid still looked like he’d taken a bath with his clothes on. Hell, Wilmington was sure his own body temperature was dropping, just from being in close proximity to his roommate.

"Wh-wh-what’s wrong with the el-el-e-vator, B-b-buck?" The kid finally stammered out between chattering teeth.

JD looked utterly bewildered, hazel eyes more than a little dazed, but Buck was relieved the boy had finally acknowledged his presence. The boy’s question made his heart ache though for the obviously exhausted youth. The more he took in JD’s appearance, especially now that his jacket was off, the worse he looked.

Like his cheek, JD’s wrists were raw and chafed from obvious exposure to the cold, his gloves torn, undoubtedly from encounters with the unforgiving ice. And his sweater was saturated, front and back, the freezing rain somehow penetrating the neckline of JD’s jacket or perhaps dripping down from the kid’s thoroughly drenched hair. Hair that was plastered to JD’s face and neck and so cold in places it had actually crystallised. Just like the boy’s long lashes had.

Appreciating just how stiff and sore his own too cold joints were simply manoeuvring around the condo, the thought of the near frozen kid having to navigate five flights of stairs made Buck groan in empathy. "Aw, hell, I’m sorry, son." Removing the kid’s sweater for him, Buck wrapped the blanket he’d discarded around the shaking shoulders, pausing to affectionately pat the boy’s head, and attempt to brush unyielding bangs out of his eyes. "Power’s still out, even the generator now."

The kid still seemed a little slow to comprehend the ramifications of that news, and slower yet to clasp the edges of the blankets Buck had enfolded in his grip, but eventually he held on. "So, you think you’re up to tellin’ me how come you look like a drowned rat?" Buck wasn’t sure if he’d get a coherent answer, but decided to ask the question anyway.

"D-ditched the Chevy. . . s-sorry." JD answered, his eyes still glazed and his voice too shaky for Buck’s liking. He wanted nothing more than to wrap the kid up in more blankets and put him to bed, but still had to strip him out of his jeans and get his boots off. The kid sure as hell didn’t seem capable of doing it on his own. If the thought even occurred to him at all. Something Buck was certain was the case at the moment.

"No need for apologies, kid. It could happen to any one of us." Buck’s sentiment was sincere and he honestly didn’t give a damn about the truck. JD home in one piece was all he cared about.

Squatting down in front of JD and wincing as he heard the pop of his protesting knees, Buck couldn’t prevent his gasp as he hurriedly redirected the flashlight’s beam against JD’s legs. "Oh, Jesus, JD, why didn’t you say anything, son?"

"Ab-b-bout what?"

Shit. "Never mind kid, hang on to me, all right? We need to get you outta these jeans."

Not really expecting an answer, Buck waited the extra beat it seemed to take for JD to fully comprehend the request and he sighed gratefully when he felt the kid lean over and rest his hands on his shoulders.

Buck made relatively easy work of removing JD’s boots, although the kid was as unsteady as a drunk walkin’ the line as he did so. His feet thankfully seemed dry enough, although the spot where boot-top met legs was as raw and chafed as the kid’s wrists.

Fortunately JD’s jacket of choice tonight reached past his hips, so the kid’s fly wasn’t too cold to undo without too much resistance. Even better was the fact that the kid’s lower torso seemed to be the driest part of his body, sparing both of them the potential embarrassment of Buck undressing JD completely. Not that JD seemed to be wholly aware of what was happening to him just now. The reason for which was becoming increasingly more apparent to Buck as each layer of clothing came off.

The kid’s pants were still gonna give Buck the most trouble, though.

From mid thigh downward, JD’s jeans felt like cardboard and were practically glued on and Buck had to seriously consider the merits of simply cutting them off. Of course the act of getting a pair of scissors from the junk drawer in their kitchen would prove interesting. Leaving JD alone for just a minute was something Buck was quite certain would result in him keeling over. "Okay, kid. Let’s sit you down, I’ll be right back."

If the poor kid hadn’t been in such pathetic shape, watching him try to bend his knees in solidified jeans would’ve been amusing. It took a couple of attempts but JD’s butt eventually found carpet and Buck felt he could leave him for a second.

Wrong. The kid was down for the count, clinging to the blanket wrapped around him as Buck watched him melt into the floor. "Whoa, there. Slow down, sleepin’ beauty, we still have to get you dried off and redressed." Before JD had the chance to use their welcome mat as a pillow, Buck scooped him up with a grunt and half-carried him to their livingroom, grabbing his key-chain off the little table they threw their keys and mail on each night coming in from work.

Since he figured that eventually the couch was going to become a bed for the night and therefore not wanting to get it soaked, he plunked JD down onto the La-Z-Boy to finish getting him changed. When the kid had been lying on the floor, Buck had once again gotten a good look at the condition of JD’s bloodied legs beneath what was left of the denim and that had decided his next course of action. He hadn’t been this grateful for the pocket knife key-chain JD had given him as a stocking stuffer since he’d used it to detach a snag of his sweater from Agent Jillian Hanson’s necklace during ‘coffee break’ midway through the Benelli briefing.

The jeans were shredded at the knees and Buck used the existing tears as starting points to slice them further, just enough to loosen up. JD damn near slid out of the chair with the force of Buck’s tugging, and he finally got a real reaction out of the kid in the form of a hiss when the stiff fabric was peeled away from damaged skin, but at least he ultimately did get them off.

Just as Buck suspected, the kid’s knees and shins were a mess. Using the powerful light of one of their camping lamps, he could see the dried or frozen blood that left vivid trails along his limbs. At first alarmed at the bluish tinge of the kid’s skin, the fact that the blue was now discoloring the towel he was patting the legs dry with quickly reassured him. That was a relief. He still didn’t like the idea of that dye getting into JD’s wounds though, and that combined with the exposure he was sure JD’d suffered, not to mention the nagging worry that maybe the boy had actually gotten hurt when he ditched the truck, made his mind up for him.

Looked like Buck was going to see Terri tonight after all.

Of course since his roommate was more than half-naked at the moment he had to finish with the task of warming him up and getting him dressed first. Grabbing a fistful of blanket, Buck straightened JD up in the chair. "C’mon, kid, let’s get some clothes on you and then we’ll figure out how to hitch a ride to the ER."

Despite JD’s listlessness, he stiffened at Buck’s words. "N-n-no hospital. ‘m just c-cold."

Buck sighed in exasperation. Great, the first thing JD truly acknowledged since getting through the door and he would have to give him a hard time. "JD. . . "

The kid was adamant, grunting "no" as he shook his head, sprinkling his roommate and the recliner with frigid melting ice. Although still concerned about JD’s condition, that familiar stubborn defiance, combined with the kid’s impersonation of a wet black Lab pup, warmed his heart. Buck couldn’t hide his smile, but he did successfully disguise his compulsion for affectionate hair ruffling with the use of another towel that had been thrown over the back of the couch.

Although he was pretty certain the kid didn’t have frostbite, Buck was still reluctant to put any elbow grease into the effort of rubbing the pale skin dry and instead settled for wrapping JD up in more blankets and only exposing his skin long enough to pat it down and remove any residual dampness from his body he hadn’t taken care of earlier. Unfortunately, the process was slow and JD’s shivering just wouldn’t abate. The kid was gonna wind up with pneumonia along with exposure, Buck was sure of it.

"C’mon, JD. Let me take you in, I don’t know how long Big Bertha here is gonna last and we ain’t got enough other light good enough for me to patch you up with if she blows." He hoped the logic he was using would disguise his plea. Besides, even though "Bertha", the big emergency light he’d turned on earlier to get a better look at the kid, was powerful, he really wasn’t sure how long the batteries would hold out. They hadn’t been replaced since his and JD’s last disastrous camping trip. And Lord knew they used and abused Bertha’s power then.

No such luck. The kid was not cooperating and shook his head again. "Nuh uh. J-just n-n-need a hot sh-shower."

Okay, it was obvious JD wasn’t going to work with him and realistically Buck knew the chances of getting him to Four Corners General were pretty slim. Calling for an ambulance did seem a bit extreme, even if he could get through to one. The kid’s injuries – the scrapes and cuts, though likely painful once JD got some feeling back in his bones – on closer inspection appeared mostly superficial, so he could probably just finish taking care of them himself. Buck’s biggest concern was getting JD’s body temp back up somewhere above Antarctica in the dead of winter. Or the high mountain pass of Caradhas.

Where the hell did that thought come from? He really had been reading a lot.

Unfortunately a shower was out of the question. Buck knew if the kid hadn’t been in such rough shape he’d be able to put two and two together and figure out that no power meant no water-heater and no water-heater meant no hot water. Hell, Buck wouldn’t’ve been surprised to discover the pipes were too frozen to even run cold water by now if he wanted some of that. But the kid was hurt, frozen and exhausted and it was no wonder he wasn’t thinking straight. Wilmington hated the idea of telling JD he was S.O.L., but he just didn’t have any other choice in the matter.

"Okay, we’ll just have to fix you up here, but, I hate to tell you this. . . a hot shower just ain’t in the cards for you, son. No power, remember?" As he gave the youth the bad news, Buck couldn’t help wincing in anticipation of JD’s reaction.

It was even worse than he expected.

Despite the fact that moments before Buck had been worried about JD’s lethargy, his seeming unresponsiveness to everything around him, Buck could’ve just cried watching as JD finally, truly comprehended something he’d been told. That the relief the boy had so obviously, maybe even desperately, been counting on wasn’t there to be had, was clearly more than his frozen and abused body and mind could take.

And just like the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back, Buck watched in dismay as JD’s face crumpled with the weight of his words.

Buck wouldn’t have believed it possible but, with cold, hard reality striking him, the kid’s shivering increased alarmingly so. Wilmington felt his own heart constrict as JD let out a pitiful moan, that might have translated into "oh fuck," if he’d been able to speak without his teeth chattering. He pulled the blankets tighter around his shoulders and slumped deeper into the recliner, curling himself into a tight, quivering ball of complete and utter misery.

"Hey, hey, it’s all right, JD." Buck gently smoothed his hand through the kid’s glistening hair, all the while piling another layer of bedding on top of his quaking best friend.

Liquid hazel eyes met Buck’s and the big man saw in them that misery would clearly be a step up from the suffering his kid brother was still enduring at that moment.

"Easy f-for you t-to say, B-b-uck. I’m f-f-fucking f-freezing, here!"

Suffering that had to end soon. That proverbial straw was giving Buck’s back a workout tonight too.

"I know ya are, kid. Hang on, let ole Buck take care if it."

JD’s only response was to huddle deeper into his self-made cocoon.

Turning his attention away from the young agent for the moment, Buck reached for his duffel bag and clumsily opened it, pulling out one of his heaviest, thickest fleece sweatshirts. Definitely too big for JD, but then he hadn’t actually pulled it out for the kid anyway.

JD’d obviously been watching him because when Buck turned back to him, the kid was reluctantly beginning to sit up once more. Loosening his grip on his coverings, one hand shakily snaked out to retrieve Buck’s navy shirt.

"Hold your horses there, squirt." Buck lightly slapped the kid’s hand away from his shirt. "This ain’t for you." He then hunched his shoulders and proceeded to hastily remove in one fell swoop the layers of t-shirts and tops he was wearing, replacing them with the one from his duffel.

"W-what are you d-doin’?" The bewildered kid stammered. Or rather chattered.

Buck didn’t bother responding and continued with his brisk change, handing his stripped off shirts to JD who was gaping at them as though he was being offered the Holy Grail. "Well don’t just stare at ‘em, boy. You want all that prime Wilmington body-heat to go to waste?!"

"Uh, n-no. Th-thanks, B-buck." Again the hand darted out from beneath the blankets, this time retrieving Buck’s offering. As he watched the kid scrambling back under the covers to put them on, Wilmington had to smile. There was a hint of laughter in JD’s voice now, despite how rough he still looked and sounded.

And that little revelation far and away outweighed the biting discomfort of the glacial sweatshirt Buck had just slipped on over his own head.

+++

Deciding on his next step, Buck pulled a pair of sweatpants out of the duffel bag to give to JD. With an apology and warning that they did ‘not’ come fully equipped with a free supply of Wilmington body-heat, he shoved them under the blankets and grabbed up a flashlight. Buck had to give the kid some credit, he only heard him yelp once.

So, while his roommate, in his attempt to get dressed, was doing a fine impersonation of two rhinos wrestling under a blanket, Buck made his way over to the kitchen, rummaged for their first aid kit and returned with it to the chair.

"Need any help under there?" He asked, genuine concern and sympathy warring with his warped sense of humor.

"I g-got it-t."

Damn. The reply was still shakier than he would’ve liked, punctuated with a mixture of both hissing and teeth-chattering that spurred Buck on to his next mission. Cleaning up the kid’s numerous wounds.

Kneeling down in front of the chair, he took a moment to lightly rub some warmth into the quivering mound of blankets, stopping when his hand rested on what he assumed was a leg. "All right, let’s get you cleaned up some. Gimme a leg."

Understanding that getting JD warm was probably more vital to the kid’s welfare than doctoring his wounds, Buck had every intention of working as quickly as his own cold-numbed hands allowed. And that was the crux of the problem. Wilmington knew that if he didn’t look after JD’s cuts and scrapes now, it wasn’t going to happen until morning and he didn’t want to wait that long.

But as soon as JD obediently exposed a rolled-up sweatpants clad leg to Buck and began shivering once again in earnest, shivering that had little to do with the antiseptic being applied, he managed to pick up his pace.

"Easy, kid. This won’t take too long," he murmured at the sudden intake of breath he heard. He was working quickly but once he’d finished with the first leg, slipping a woollen sock on the foot for good measure, and then started on the kid’s other shin, Buck decided to try distracting the boy by asking more about what had happened to him tonight.

"You wanna give me any details about what happened tonight?"

The kid barked out a muffled laugh-tinged "no" but popped his head out from his shell, anyway. "A F-f-irebird h-happened."

Well, there you go. He’d figured it’d take more than icy roads for JD to wind up in a ditch, especially in the Chevy. "You mean to tell me some yahoo stupid enough to be on these roads with big-ass tires ran into you?" Buck was concentrating on JD’s wrists now, but looked up long enough to catch his startled and pleased expression. Well, if JD was expecting to automatically get blamed for getting into an accident, he was looking in the wrong place. The kid was as good with four wheels as he was on horseback – Buck knew that.

"Not – ow! –" Buck was cleaning up the nasty scrape along the kid’s face now but paused in his ministrations long enough to let JD finish. "—quite."

"You kn-now that hard t-t-turn on Sh-shoshone?" Buck acknowledged the familiar corner with a nod. "F-firebird did-didn’t make it."

"Shit. I take it you and the bird were in the same place at the same time?"

"Y-yeah. Di-didn’t crash, th-though."

Realization dawned on Buck. "Let me guess. Only because you ditched to avoid hitting ‘im, I bet." It wasn’t really a question. Buck could vividly see the scenario playing out in his head. "And he never bothered to stop and help?" Neither was that a question, although Buck’s voice was rising slightly.

JD’s response was a nod followed by some strong tremors Buck wasn’t sure were inspired by the boy’s chill or the memory. A sudden realization hit him then, causing his own body to betray him with a shudder of its own and driving all thoughts of plate numbers and retribution out of his head. "You mean you walked home all the way from there?!"

Another affirmative.

No wonder the kid was as banged up as he was. What damage hadn’t happened during the accident would’ve happened on the ice walking home. He hated to think how often the kid would’ve fallen on his long trek, and it sure explained the condition of his hands and legs.

Unbidden, images of Frodo, Sam, Aragorn and the gang braving the horrendous wintry cold of a mountain pass flashed in Buck’s mind and he shuddered to think of JD out alone in the kind of lethal weather that only belonged in mythical lands and places such as Middle Earth as far as he was concerned.

And he shuddered to think of just how lucky they both were that JD’s own quest was over and that he had found his way home.

He shook away all thoughts heading in that direction and resumed taking care of the kid’s face. Applying a dab of soothing ointment to the boy’s scraped cheek and chin, he decided that was the best he could offer until daylight came. "All right, I think I’m done here. Let’s shift you over to the couch. You ready for some more of my world-famous body heat? I promise I won’t get fresh," he winked.

JD snorted at that, stopped himself from telling his roommate that he’d damn near be willing to bear Buck’s children if it meant getting warmer, and straightened up in the recliner once again, waiting for the supportive arm he knew would be there to help him up.

With JD tucked against Buck’s side, they made their way together the few steps from chair to couch, JD only letting go when he felt its soft cushioning hit the backs of his legs.

The kid watched as Buck folded his long legs back into the sleeping bag he’d been using earlier, pulling it up to his chest and then wrapping a blanket around his shoulders. Buck sat down next to him, settled himself in the corner so JD could still use most of its length and then drew him in closer with one of what Terri referred to, in her expert medical opinion, as ‘his impossibly long’ arms. Once he was sure the kid was covered up from head-to-toe, he returned his arm to JD’s shoulder where it would stay for the night.

Huddled there together, Buck could already feel the warmth of their shared body-heat penetrating his bones, and although he could still feel JD shivering, the frequency was thankfully slowing down.

The kid was finally starting to thaw out.

And the next words out of JD’s mouth, muffled even as they were under layers of fabric, but spoken with an affection that could only rival Buck’s, melted the cold altogether.

"You know. . . I always knew you were the kind of friend who’d willingly give me the shirt off your back."

Buck smiled.

"In a heartbeat, kid. In a heartbeat."

The End.