His feet were freezing again.

He glanced at his watch. It was just after three o'clock. They had been trudging through the snow for almost three hours since they had left the cabin. His feet didn't feel like they were attached anymore, he felt like he had run a marathon and his head was still aching.

"How you holding up, Tim?" he asked as they hurried along the stream. The valley walls were steep, which helped to keep them on course but it also made it really easy for the Dunnings to predict their path.

"I could use a warm fire and some dry boots," Tim replied.

"Same here," he said as he scanned the hillside for a cave opening.

So far, they hadn't found anything that they could use. They had found a cave thirty minutes ago but that crack in the hillside hadn't been large enough for the both of them. And an hour before that, they had found something more like an overhang but with an opening that was ten feet long, it was too exposed, both to the elements and the Dunnings.

He was beginning to wonder what they should do in case they didn't find a cave. The snow was coming down so thickly it was hard to see more than ten or fifteen feet ahead of them and the temperature felt like it had dropped even more. They needed shelter and soon.

Time to ask McScout.

"You have any ideas of what we should do in case we don't find a cave?" he asked. "It's getting late. The sun'll go down soon and take the temperature with it. Not that it's warm now."

Tim looked around. "I know. I was thinking the same thing. We'll have to build a makeshift shelter and light a fire if possible. We could build a lean-to with pine branches but I'd prefer a cave. It'll be warmer."

He nodded as they walked. "Let's give it a little more time. If we don't find something soon then we'll build a lean-to. I'd rather not wait until it gets dark for that," he said.

Tim nodded.

They continued for another thirty minutes and just when he was going to tell Tim they ought to start a shelter, he caught sight of a crack in the hillside. The opening was about fifty feet up the slope and it appeared that it was a couple feet wide. The dark smudge stood out against the white background of snow.

"Tim," he said. He stopped and pointed. Tim nodded and together they hiked up the slope.

Not wanting to get his hopes up, he looked at the opening skeptically. On closer inspection, it didn't seem to be as much a cave as a crack in a boulder. But at three feet at the widest, the opening was a little bigger than he had estimated from below.

"Doesn't look like much," he said as he tried to look inside. But as he spoke, he could tell that there was some size to cave. He could hear his voice echo. "But it sounds bigger than the last one. Let me check it out."

"Hold on. We need to check for residents first," Tim said stopping him before he blundered into a hibernating animal's den. "Check the kit for a flashlight."

Nodding, he handed Tim the quilts and then opened the kit. A few items seemed to be missing but there was a hand-crank flashlight. A quick test told him that the flashlight worked. He handed the kit to Tim and said, "If someone is home, maybe we'll get dinner too."

Tim looked at him warningly. "Or we could be dinner."

"That's what this is for," he replied jauntily as he drew his Sig. But as he turned towards the opening, he was all business. Cautiously, he shined the light inside. He didn't see anything so he slid inside. The cave wasn't very big, but it was empty and best of all, it was large enough for both of them.

But just to be certain, he searched the nooks and crannies. The cave was maybe the size of a minivan and roughly the same shape. The ceiling was low which forced him to stoop slightly as he checked for previous tenants. Aside from some leaves, twigs and some stray rocks, the cave was empty.

Ducking outside he motioned for Tim to enter the cave. "We're lucky, no current tenants. Not even a wampa." He grinned as Tim stared at him. "Hey, I should get points for remembering the name of the yeti-thing from Star Wars."

The wind picked up again, causing him to shiver. Dropping the line of conversation, he entered the cave and Tim followed him.

"Hope you're not claustrophobic," he added.

"I'm not," Tim said as he looked around.

Now that his partner was standing in their shelter, the cave felt three times as small.

"It could use a coat of paint and a few homey touches," he said as Tim set down the survival kit, the tarp and the blankets. Suddenly the wind picked up and snow forced its way inside. "Home could use a door," he muttered. "So, what do we do now? You're the camping expert."

"I wouldn't say 'expert,' Tony," Tim replied. "When I go camping I have more gear than this and I don't go out in blizzards."

Rolling his eyes, he looked at Tim. "You know more than me so of the two of us, you're the expert."

"We need firewood," Tim said.

"I figured that one out for myself," he replied.

"Hey, do you want my opinion or not?" Tim retorted. He rolled his eyes and motioned for Tim to continue. "Avoid pinewood. Downed hardwood branches would be best, and a dead tree would be next on the list although it'll be hard to cut into reasonably sized pieces. We don't want to try to light green wood. It's going to be hard enough to light wet and frozen wood."

"Ok," he said, taking the axe from Tim. "I'll get the wood. You sort out the supplies and set up in here."

"Tony!" Tim called but he didn't stop.

They needed a fire and soon. They were both soaked and freezing and he knew that they were at risk for frostbite and exposure. He hurried to a stand of trees and kicked around the snow until he found several downed branches. He pulled them into a pile as he continued his search. When he had a sizable collection, he gathered them and made his way back to their cave.

He dumped the wood outside and poked his head inside. He would need Tim's help cutting up some of the larger pieces. "Tim," he said but he stopped when he realized that McGee wasn't inside.

Turning around, he scanned the woods. He didn't see Tim anywhere.

He considered calling for Tim, but he stopped himself. If the Dunnings were searching for them, he didn't want to draw their attention. And he didn't want to cause an avalanche. Granted the latter was unlikely but given their luck over the last day, he didn't want to chance it.

Suddenly he saw Tim upslope dragging several large pine branches towards the cave. He hurried to Tim's side to help him.

"Damn, Tim, don't do that to me," he said.

Tim looked at him. "Worried?" he asked bemused.

"Yeah," he replied as if it was obvious. Shaking his head, he tried to cover his concern. "I mean, how would I explain to Gibbs that I let you get lost in the woods?"

They reached the cave and dropped their load. Tim looked down at the pile of wood he had collected. There wasn't much.

"I'm fine," Tim replied. "Come on. We need more wood than that and it's better if we work together. And for that matter, we should stick together like I tried to tell you before." He shrugged his head in concession. "It looks like there was a wind storm that came through here. I found a bunch of stumps when I was looking for the pine trees. I bet we'll find some downed trees there."

Together, they hurried up the slope.

Tim was right. There seemed to be numerous stumps sticking up through the snow which made finding a fallen tree under the snow much easier. And between the two of them they managed to pry a smaller one loose from the frozen ground and chop it into manageable pieces. They dragged the pieces to the cave mouth and took turns chopping the log into reasonable lengths for firewood before splitting the logs.

He paused and handed Tim the axe. He wiped the sweat from his forehead as he tried to catch his breath. It was hard work to chop up frozen wood with a small axe and the cold air was searing his lungs.

"You ok?" Tim asked.

"Yeah," he replied as he bent over. "Ever since the plague, cold air bothers me."

Tim nodded as he started to split the last of the wood. "Ducky said that your lungs would have been scarred." He watched as Tim swung the axe into the upright end of the wood then smacked it against the ground until the piece had split in half.

"When'd he say that?" he asked as Tim started into the next piece.

"After we thought you had been blown up," Tim replied as he worked. "That's how we figured out that you weren't dead. The corpse from your car had pristine lungs."

"Hmm," he said with an air of interest. Now that he had recovered his breath, he started to transport their firewood into the cave. "So, what's with the pine tree?" he asked. "I thought you said we shouldn't burn them."

"They're not for the fire," Tim replied.

"Trying to give our temporary home a pine fresh scent?"

"Not exactly," Tim replied as he wiped his forehead. "We need a door for one." He nodded in agreement. He was thinking that they could use the tarp, but pine branches would work just as well. "And we need something to cushion the floor. The pine fresh scent is an added bonus. Let's get the last of the wood inside, then we can work on the door and then get the fire going."

"Right," he replied as he helped move the firewood. Then between the two of them, they managed to seal off the cave opening. They shoved the remainder of the pine boughs into the back of the cave, which was now significantly more crowded with the addition of the wood which was stacked to one side. "This place looked bigger before," he said as he turned on the flashlight. "You learn that thing with the pine branches as a scout?"

"No," Tim replied as he grabbed some of the smaller pieces of wood and started to stack it up in a pyramid near the door. "I didn't do much camping as a scout. Every time a father and son trip came up, my father was deployed. The few times I went camping with my dad, we had a tent, camp stove, the whole nine yards."

"So, roughing it wasn't really roughing it?" he asked as he aimed the flashlight's beam towards the wood pile so Tim could pick through it.

Tim shook his head. "My dad said that if he wanted to muck around in the woods, he would have joined the marines." He chuckled and Tim smiled. "He would have rather gone sailing. But he took me camping anyway because he knew I'd get seasick if we went sailing." He looked at his partner. "I was seasick for half of my Tiger Cruise on the Nimitz and miserable for the rest of it."

"That sucks," he said. "That would have been the best playground ever for a kid."

"Not when your dad is the Captain," Tim replied sourly. "Even if I hadn't been seasick, I doubt I'd have had any fun. My father was very clear that I was not to do anything that would reflect poorly on him."

He snorted. "Like you would have done that anyway." Tim shrugged. "So how did camping go with your dad?"

Tim shrugged again. "Ok I guess. We were able to light our campfire but then again, we had dry wood. We did some fishing, which was pretty fun and I did get my camping badge."

Tim smiled at the memories.

For a moment he found that he was insanely jealous of his younger partner. Sometimes Tim reminded him of what he had missed out on with his own father after his mother had died. Even if old man McGee was strict, he was there for his children.

But as he watched, Tim's smile faded and turned into a frown. His partner was focused on the work, but he could see the wheels turning in McGee's head. For some reason, he had a feeling that things between the McGee men weren't all sunshine and roses. If they were stuck in this cave for a few days, he'd have time to figure out why.

"Good thing the scouts don't have a sailing badge. Unless they give a badge for spewing your lunch all over the place too." Tim pulled a face at him. "So, if you weren't roughing it, how'd you come up with the idea for the pine branches?"

"I read it somewhere," Tim said vaguely. That made him think that Tim was trying to evade answering him but right now he wasn't going to press the issue. He'd have plenty of time to question his friend about his camping knowledge once they got the fire started.

He set the flashlight on top of the backpack. "Read anything about lighting a fire with wet wood?" he asked as he began to break up some of the smaller branches.

"No," Tim said as he suddenly shivered. He shivered too. Now that they weren't working, he realized that he was cold and wet. He looked down at his pants. He was soaked past his knee. "But if we don't get one started…"

"Yeah, it won't be good," he agreed.

"I grabbed some pine cones and needles," Tim said pointing to the small pile that lay under a stack of their wood. "They seemed pretty dry when I cut the pine branches down. I thought they might work as tinder. And we can shave down some of the smaller pieces to make more tinder."

Tim gathered the pine cones as he pulled out his pocket knife and began to shave bits of wood with shaking hands. When he finished, he pushed the tinder under the small pyramid.

"Here goes nothing," he said as he used one of their matches to light the tinder.

He could feel Tim watching him intently as he carefully blew on the tinder until some of the smaller pieces of wood caught fire, snapping and cracking as the water evaporated forcefully. He had built plenty of campfires at Camp Poke-a-quatic but never before had so much counted on getting those precious flames going. Slowly and methodically, he added more and more wood until they began to cough.

"This isn't good," Tim said as he noticed their cave was filling up with smoke.

"Cut some holes in our door near the top," he said as he looked upward.

Tim nodded. He grabbed his knife and carefully cut away a few of the pine branches near the ceiling. He then cut a second hole on the other side. It allowed cold air to enter their cave, but it also drew the smoke outside. Tim used his coat to help the process.

"Good call," he said as the smoke cleared. "I saw a couple of big rocks at the back of the cave," he said. "Grab them. We can use them to help reflect the heat into the cave."

Tim nodded. After he positioned the stones around the fire, Tim started to cut the pine branches and lay them out in a mattress. He focused on the fire until he heard the tarp. He turned around and saw Tim spreading it out over the pine branches.

"They're wet," Tim explained.

He nodded and returned his attention to the fire. It took nearly an hour of careful tending before they had a good enough base so that their fire could sustain some of the larger pieces. Their cave, while not hot, was warm enough that they could remove their shoes and socks so they could dry.

"Well we won't win any awards from Good Housekeeping," he said. Suddenly the wind howled. They looked at the door as it shook but it held. A few cold drafts leaked inside but the heat from their fire offset it. "But it's warm."

"I thought you didn't know anything about building a fire with wet wood," Tim said as he gratefully wiggled his toes.

"I don't," he replied as he positioned some wet pieces of wood near the fire to dry. "But I've built camp fires before. Camp Poke-a-quatic." Tim looked at him. "What? You didn't think that it was all knife throwing and clogging, did you?"

"I figured that the clogging wouldn't leave much time for anything useful," Tim replied.

He pulled a face at Tim before he added another piece of wood to the fire.

"I'm just glad that I learned something useful there. Makes it a little more worth it."

Tim looked at him sympathetically. His issues with his father weren't a secret and Tim knew he had been warehoused at various boarding schools and summer camps after his mother had died. It wasn't the post-card family life, but it hadn't been a bad childhood either.

"I didn't think I'd be able to get it lit in the first place. The tinder and pine needles were a good idea," he added.

"I wasn't sure it would work either," Tim replied. "Glad it did though." Tim fell silent as they watched their fire flicker.

His clothes were still damp but he was finally feeling warm again.

"So, I think it's a safe bet that Pa Dunning has something to hide," he said.

"But what?" Tim asked. He looked questioningly at his partner. "Was it about Corporal Dunning's murder? Or the drugs?"

"Or both?" he asked. Tim didn't answer but he didn't disagree either. For some reason the silence was oppressive, so he looked at Tim. "What supplies did Kara give us?"

Tim grabbed the battered leather knapsack and the survival kit. "It looks like they've raided their kit over the years," Tim said as he opened the kit. "Fishing line and hooks are gone."

"Not that we're going to catch fish in this weather," he replied drolly.

Tim shrugged in concession. "Flashlight, one candle, matches, basic medical supplies." Tim closed the kit and started to pull items out of the knapsack. Two large bottles of water, a large bag of what he would guess was homemade venison jerky, a jar of peanut butter, a bag of mixed dried fruit, a box of crackers, several packets of instant oatmeal, and four large cans of tuna.

He frowned as he took one of the bottles of water and took a drink.

"I know," Tim said as he packed everything back into the bag. "And not knowing how long this storm will last…" Tim trailed off as the wind picked up. They both looked at the door, but once again, it held firm. "Food aside, I know that isn't enough water for two people for more than one day."

"You're kidding, right?" he asked incredulously. "McGee, we're surrounded by water. All we have to do it melt it."

"Yeah, Tony," Tim replied shaking his head. "But you shouldn't eat snow, whether it's yellow or not. Snow is full of bacteria and pollution."

"Pollution? What pollution? We're in the middle of nowhere."

"Yeah but this storm had to come from somewhere and that somewhere isn't in the middle of nowhere," Tim replied as he took the open bottle of water and took a sip. "We'll need to figure out a way to boil the snow and get it to condense back into our bottles. I guess we can use the tuna cans once we eat the tuna, but we'll have to figure something out in the meantime."

"Perfect!" he said.

"Perfect? You figured it out all ready?" Tim asked incredulously.

"No!" he replied, enthusiastically. "But it'll give us something to do. I was worried we were going to be bored." Tim snorted. "So how do you know all this stuff? You know, the pine cones, the pine branches," he said as he tested the mattress. While it wasn't as comfortable as his bed, it did make the ground a little easier to deal with. "Boiling the snow." Tim hedged. "Timothy McGee, are you researching for a new book?"

Tim smiled wryly. "Yeah."

"Do tell!" he said excitedly.

"You're more excited about this than you should be," Tim said cautiously.

"Well it's topical," he countered. "Whatever happened to Rock Hollow?"

Tim frowned. "After everything that happened, I ended up rewriting the whole thing. It took a year to write, six months to edit and it eventually was published four years ago. I was never really happy with it and it didn't do nearly so well as Deep Six. But after the first book, they signed me for another two books. So, I have another novel I'm obligated to write. I'm about three-quarters of the way through it."

"Hence why you're researching wilderness survival," he said. Tim nodded. "So, what's the plot for this one Mr. Gemcity?"

Tim lay back and stared at the ceiling. He followed suit. The flickering firelight playing across the roof of the cave was oddly comforting.

"You remember that case with the serial killer park ranger?" Tim asked finally.

"Of course," he replied. "You used the serial killer for your next book?"

"Not exactly. The killer is well versed in woods lore but he isn't a park ranger. He's part of a survivalist militia. He's wanted for murdering a marine who was selling the militia stolen military weapons."

"Let me guess: there's also a crooked ATF agent involved and Tommy goes undercover as a sleazy gun runner named Gus," he said with a grin.

"Huh?" Tim asked as he turned to look at him in confusion.

He looked at his partner. "Come on, McGee," he said grinning. "You helped out on that case. Don't you remember? You and Kate arrested the partner when she went to pick up the weapons."

"Oh," Tim said. "I wasn't thinking of that case. I guess the only similar part is the murdered marine selling stolen weapons part. I was actually thinking about the part where we were looking for the killer park ranger in the woods."

"Ok," he said. "What happens next?"

"Oh uh. Once the team identifies the survivalist as the killer they pursue him into the woods. They split into teams of two. Tibbs and Tommy. Lisa and MacGregor. The killer stalks and shoots MacGregor and takes Officer Lisa hostage."

"You shot yourself?" he asked.

"MacGregor," Tim said emphatically. "You do know there is a difference between my characters and us?"

"You're kidding right?" he asked incredulously.

"I'm not," Tim replied earnestly as he propped himself up on one elbow. "Do you really think that's how I see you Tony? As a womanizing, practical joker who doesn't take anything serious?"

He looked at Tim. He seemed to be genuinely concerned.

"Maybe not now," he replied. "But when we first met? Yeah."

Tim lay down and returned to staring at the ceiling. "I saw those things but that's not all that I saw. I saw the brilliant investigator side of you too. I just couldn't understand why you hid it behind the jokes and juvenile humor. It was frustrating."

"Frustrating?" he asked as he looked at Tim. "Because I teased you?"

"No," Tim replied. "Well yes. But mostly because I had to work to get to that closet in Norfolk. I always wanted to be in law enforcement. But everyone told me I wasn't cut out for being an agent. They told me that I should be off writing programs or building video games and that I should give up."

"Obviously those people didn't know you very well," he replied. Tim looked at him. "I've seen you when you're focused on a goal McGee. You don't quit until you reach it." Tim shrugged. "So, you were frustrated because I made light of something you worked hard to get to?"

"A little I guess," Tim replied. "And your teasing didn't help either. I guess that Tommy was a way to work out my frustrations."

He snorted. "I noticed."

Tim looked at him and said, "But underneath it all, Tommy is just as competent." He nodded. "You still hate me for writing my book," Tim said dejectedly.

"What?" he asked surprised. "No!" He smiled and looked over at his partner. "Ok at first I didn't really like that you used me in your book McGee. But after a while, I found it flattering." Tim looked at him in disbelief. "Yes, flattering. I know that you exaggerated some of my…" He paused as he searched for the right words. "Less desirable qualities but you did that to yourself too though. You are nowhere near as dorky as MacGregor." Tim smiled wanly. "Besides it is kinda cool that so many people liked us."

"I had no idea my book would make it that big," Tim replied. "At first it was nice to get some money for my hobby then it got bigger and before I know it, I was on the best sellers list."

"And you didn't tell us," he said teasing Tim.

"Yeah well what was I going to say? Hey Tony, I uh wrote a book using some of your best and worst qualities for one of my characters. You were going to be mad no matter what I did," Tim retorted.

"Probably," he conceded. "It would have been better if you had told us rather than let us find out by accident when your sister spilled the beans."

"Yeah well, I missed that opportunity," Tim said. "So, you really aren't mad anymore?"

He nearly laughed. Tim sounded so hopeful. "Nah, I'm not mad any more. It kinda makes me feel famous. But just because I'm not mad, it doesn't mean I'm not going to tease the hell out of you for it."

"Of course, you will," Tim said resigned to his fate.

He smiled. "So, why'd you shoot yourself?"

"People like MacGregor," Tim said. "He's young, naïve, and inexperienced. I figured that it would create the most drama if he was the one who was shot."

"Was he shot trying to rescue, Lisa?" he asked with a sly smile.

"Playing the hero?" Tim asked astutely. "No. He's purely the damsel in distress." He couldn't help the smirk that crossed his lips. "The killer shot MacGregor to distract Lisa. Then he kidnapped her when she was trying to help MacGregor and left MacGregor for dead. Luckily Tibbs and DeLuca find him but not before he loses a lot of blood. Tibbs goes after the killer and Officer Lisa, which leaves DeLuca to care for MacGregor. DeLuca and MacGregor spend some quality bonding time in a cave while they're waiting to be rescued."

"Ironic," he said. "Life is imitating art."

"Well at least I haven't been shot," Tim replied. "But Tony, my book took place in the summer. DeLuca and MacGregor are riding out a tropical storm, not a blizzard. I didn't research cold weather survival."

"I'd say that we're doing ok so far, Tim," he said as he sat up and checked his socks. He turned them over as Tim did the same. "Doesn't mean that I'm not worried though."

"I know," Tim replied as he examined him. He turned his gaze towards their door as the wind picked up. "We've got shelter but we still need to get back to civilization."

"All while avoiding the Dunning trio who seem to be hunting us for some reason," he said. "I've been wondering, Tim. Before Officer Lisa was it…"

"A character based on Kate?" Tim asked as he poked their fire with a long branch. "Yeah," he said heavily. "Agent Megan 'Meg' Dodd. I couldn't keep her character after what happened. Every time I read through my writing, I'd think of her and it was too hard."

They fell silent as they thought about their partner.

In a way, Tim had been spared the worst of it. He hadn't been on the roof when Kate had been killed. He hadn't been laughing with her seconds before the lights went out. He hadn't had her blood on his face.

"I miss Kate," he said suddenly.

"Me too," Tim replied. Suddenly he pulled out his phone. He looked at it then turned it off. "We're not getting any signal here. I want to conserve the battery," Tim explained.

He nodded and did the same with his phone. "Well there is a bright side to our phones not working."

"What's that?" Tim asked.

"When we don't check in, they'll come looking for us," he replied.

Tim looked hopeful for a second before his expression fell. "If Gibbs and Ziva can make it through this storm."

He smiled broadly and smacked Tim on the back. Tim frowned but that couldn't diminish his enthusiasm. "Come on Tim! Do you really think that a little snow is going to stop Gibbs?"