"Stop squirming, Fraser." The cold from the cobblestone flooring of the dank and dark cellar where Fraser and I are trapped is seeping into my bare skin. The long sleeve that would have semi-protected me from the cold had been ripped off in our struggle prior to being captured. We are head to foot and handcuffed together with no wiggle room to get ourselves turned around or more importantly… free. There is a solid wall of rock against my back and as I stare through Fraser's feet, a matching wall behind him. We are so screwed.

"Ow… fuck… Fraser!" The tip of his boot clad foot connected bluntly with my forehead. "I said to stop moving. What part of that did you not understand?"

"Leg… cramp," he grunts out, his breathing a tad on the uneven side.

I move my head back away from his boot in an attempt to get a better view of him and smack it against the stone wall. Even less wiggle room than I initially feared. Fraser has his eyes squeezed shut and his leg is bent at a funny angle. I whip my head back quickly before his boot connects with the tip of my nose only to connect with the wall again, giving myself a guaranteed concussion.

"I'm sorry, Ray," he says through pursed lips.

And he really does look sorry as his hand rubs up and down his thigh in a desperate attempt to ease the cramp, banging my cuffed hands into the beam separating us. I swallow a curse when I feel a knuckle tearing open against the splintered wood beam.

"Just stop moving, will ya?" He's still rubbing at his thigh and my fingers glide helplessly along the solid muscle as he pulls my cuffed hands along with his to work out the cramp. The thoughts entering my mind draw me a world away from our current situation and land me in one vaguely familiar. At least there is no water this time. But this time… the rescuer has become well… in need of rescuing as well.

"Shit…" Voicing my frustrations through an explicative stills Fraser momentarily and I'm forever grateful because there are new thoughts entering my head that go along with rubbing that thigh of his that my fingers have been ghosting over for the last few moments.

"Is there a problem, Ray?" He lifts his head off the cold floor and ocean blue eyes full of concern are staring hard at me.

"Problem? No… no problem at all, Fraser." I lift my head to meet his blue eyes while I let a few moments of silence build between us before I explode. "Except we are handcuffed to a fucking splintered pole in a fucking cellar in the middle of fucking nowhere." Now I feel much better… not.

He is absent-mindedly rubbing at his thigh again and my fingers brush across his groin. He doesn't seem to notice because his mind is focused on the cramp that has returned to his muscle, but me… oh, I noticed.

"Frase," I plead desperately as I drop my head back to the solid flooring. "Please stop moving or we're going to have… well issues." I beg my own dick to play dead. Groaning, I try to bring my thoughts back to our current situation and not the situation that is quickly arising elsewhere. "I'm sorry," I hear myself saying to break up the silence. "This isn't how I wanted to spend your birthday."

"At least I'm in good company," he replies without lifting his head and I nod in agreement. "How long before you think someone will find us?"

I shake my head unsure and then realize he can't see the motion. "Don't know. The guy grabbed my phone before I could tell Welsh exactly where we were. I think he threw it in a bush somewhere."

"That's fantastic, Ray. They can track the signal from your phone if it is still on."

"Still could be a long while." I roll my eyes when he starts rubbing at his thigh again. Does he really have to have a stupid cramp in his leg now? I just got my dick settled down.

"Oh?" And Fraser's pitch just changed. And he's rubbing at his thigh with a bit more force than I think is necessary for a cramp. "So… we may be here for a while yet?" And his timber most definitely dropped with that last sentence. "Have I told you what I want for my birthday yet?"

And suddenly… my fingers hit something hard.