Disclaimer: Hi Folks at CBS, Beth Sullivan and all involved with our beloved DQ. Just borrowing them again, they will be returned in perfect condition I promise!
Author's note! I hope you enjoy, please read and review! And THANK YOU for all the great reviews and comments on here and on the forum for my first nine chapters!! Rianne x
Frozen Fires.
By Rianne.
Chapter Ten.
The door to the Mercantile was heavy and swollen with the weather. Took both Dorothy and Loren's combined efforts to drag it open enough for them to leave. Instantly the store was filled with marauding snowflakes that were dragged inside by the suctioning updraft.
Gathering up all the supplies the pair stepped out into the terrible weather. Both feeling the unbelievable force of the wind as it swayed them backwards with only the slightest effort on its part. Loren yanked the door closed behind him, struggling with the tiny lock and key, his hands fumbling within his woollen gloves.
"Just leave it Loren!" Dorothy cried. Desperate to be inside the clinic already.
"I gots ta lock it Dorothy!" came the agitated response carried by the wind as Loren continued to struggle.
He was lucky not to have seen the look that he received from Dorothy; as she made a mental note to have a serious discussion with him about his greed, and she would, one of these days. Loren was an old man and set in his ways and part of her knew it was simply too late to change him now, but when his greed put others at risk like this it became something she really could not help but mention.
"Done!" cried Loren in triumph, but Dorothy bestowed no congratulations, as she turned against the wind and began striding in the direction of Dr. Mike's clinic. Loren could only follow on her heels, the basket of supplies on his arm swung too and fro with each staggered step.
They could barely see the other side of the street, Loren's hat was already blotted completely white. Lights could be seen, just barely, over at the Saloon, and at the clinic as they finally moved closer to their destination.
Dorothy froze suddenly, Loren looking to her bemused as he, still in motion, passed her.
"What's wrong?" He cried. Following her gaze into the in-comprehendible distance.
"There!" She shouted, "There is someone out there!"
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The flickering of the flames was the first thing that Michaela became aware of. She could see the firelight rippling through her closed lids as if she had looked directly at the sun a little too long.
Arching her neck she tried to make the fabric lump beneath her head more comfortable. She just wanted five more minutes to her slumbering dreams; there was nothing urgent, nothing pressing, that she could remember that would ultimately force her to get out of her bed early today.
She shifted a little. It was funny that her head hurt, a dull throbbing echoed in her ears. As she became more aware she felt the ache of cold accumulating through her bones, which seemed to be seeping into her from beneath.
Undulating her shoulders she recognised that there was a warm, weight against her chest and that what lay beneath her did not yield any as she moved.
This was not her bed in her little homestead.
Her eyes felt heavy like her head, she tried to open them, but she could not keep them from lolling closed before she could focus her gaze upon anything. The light was ill defined and hurt her eyes.
This was not the homestead. Where was she?
It was cold. She felt the icy fingers of it tickling her skin and raising goosebumps across the flesh. She did not seem to be wearing much of her clothing; she could not be to feel this cold.
In her last few months of living in Colorado Springs, she had finally become accustomed to the contrasting climate; the heady sweltering heat and then the sudden freezing icy cold spells. It had taken a long time to adjust, but this was different, this cold, it chilled her lungs as she breathed.
When she tried to get her sluggish brain to muse about where she was, how she had gotten there, all she saw in her minds eye was a world of swirling glacial white, which fought with her and took her breath away.
Her forehead furrowed. These thoughts were intensifying the slow thump, thump, thump of resounding pain in her mind.
So instead she tried to focus on what she could distinguish. She could hear her own breathing, tinged with a soft wheeze from the cold. She could also hear the breathing of someone else; theirs tinged with the rasp of a gentle snore. Someone was there with her and instead of inducing worry it felt like a comfort.
She could hear more beyond that, sounded like the roar of the wind, smashing and thrashing in gusts and blasts.
She was blanketed with something too, a heavy material, which felt damp and sticky against her legs. She wriggled her toes, feeling the stinging breeze of cold air as the material shifted, exposing her feet. They were bare and as she drowsily pulled her legs protectively higher up under the blanket she felt her thigh brush against the other person.
She was thirsty, her mouth dry. Her tongue danced over her lips as a memory flickered. Hot warm lips millimetres from her own. Heated breath warming and distracting.
She wrinkled her nose, feeling how taut and sensitive the skin was, as she tried to concentrate, but the memory flitted away so quickly she had to let it fly.
She sighed, twisting her back.
The weight on her chest rose and fell with the motion.
The ache across her shoulder blades wrenched her upper body, and could not have justifiably developed because of lying upon what appeared to be the ground beneath her. Her body ached as if she had walked a hundred miles against the force of a prevailing wind.
Another remembrance came; the feel of hands against her skin, rubbing and warming, the nearness of another's body, a male body, hovering over hers, noses bumping. She did not understand, were these fragments of her dreams?
She opened her eyes, very slowly, taking her time to allow her brain to comfortably adjust. Above her the glow of flames flickered across what appeared to be a stone roof. Dark, gloomy and overhanging low. She blinked slowly, as her tired eyes fought to enclose her in darkness again.
She took a long breath, bringing her left hand up to rub across her eyes like Brian did just before bedtime. Her hand lingering over her face, feeling how sensitive the skin was.
The weight upon her chest chose that as the perfect moment to stir against her. Nuzzling affectionately against her breast.
Her breath caught, as a heavy arm glided over her stomach. A large hand tenderly moving, encircling her waist.
With her hand still shading her face she slid her fingers open just a little as with trepidation she peeped between them, gaze drifting downwards.
She let go of her held breath in relief when she saw Sully's soft hair peeping out of the top of a coat that was blanketing them both. The top of his head so close that her chin could have comfortably rested against his crown. His face lay against the clean white of her camisole. Her mouth formed an 'O' of surprise. Where were her clothes?
She lifted her hand away from her face with a confounded sigh, looking above her again for a moment to attempt to gather her thoughts. Wishing she could just think, just curl up by herself for a moment to consider, but all her tired mind could focus on was the touch of his protective hand as it moved in minute circles against her under cover of the coat.
She could not hold back a whimper of confusion as she tried to process the events that had brought them to this place.
There had been a storm, a snowstorm, they had not been able to get to the reservation, and they had been too far from town to go back. There had been a river, and icy cold water.
Her eyes grew wide as horrors crashed through her at the sudden series of bewildering flashbacks that flooded forth. She saw Sully's deep blue eyes intensely locked with hers across a hazy distance. Felt the freedom of the leap of faith she had taken. And then the biting pain of ice and water and chaos and then just nothing.
She looked back down at Sully, feeling the acute pain of her memories echo away at the sight of him. Her own fingers reached waveringly out, sliding the coat away from his face, her fingers coming down to weakly caress his forehead, gratitude beginning to dawn, only mildly comprehending the enormity of what Sully must have been through.
She was here, she was alive. She felt her heart swell for him, as her fingers gently slid into his hair, the storm had created soft curls that rippled beneath her fingers. He looked simply exhausted.
"Sully?" her voice was almost unrecognisable, dry and crackled and seemed to echo loudly.
He stirred a little, a very low grumble of protest rolling from deep in his chest, but he did not awaken.
Sighing she felt discomfort set in. She could not be sure how long she had lain here, but she knew one thing, that her bladder ached for relief and the heavy weight of his arm was pressing down in a way that was causing the need to become much more urgent!
Something had to be done; the pressure was starting to overtake her thoughts in their ranking order of lost, cold, worried, exhausted. She knew one thing though, however important, she was going nowhere with Sully lying against her like that.
She tried his name again, scratching her nails a little against his scalp. He nuzzled into her again and she watched as the corners of his mouth drew up in pleasure and she snatched her hand back instantly. What was she doing?
"Sully!" She said, in a much louder tone, her hand this time shaking his shoulder, but even then distracted by the bare skin she found there.
His eyelids flickered open, blinking harshly at the light as he, suddenly remembering that he had to be aware of something important, raised his head just enough to look up to her face.
She watched as his eyes grew wider and bluer before her, relief plain in his expression "Michaela," he breathed, his mind clearly still foggy.
He forced himself up, his left elbow, a little numb from the ground shaking a little under the weight as he removed his right arm from around her, reaching his hand out to caress over her forehead. She closed her eyes momentarily as she felt his touch, the echo of her full name resounding in the air.
"Sully," she tried her tired voice once more. "I…"
Even in this moment of great desperation she still found that she could not say what she needed.
Sully, having become more alert looked down at his position and immediately assuming that he had embarrassed her with his proximity, almost leapt away to create a distance between their bodies.
Both felt the rush of shockingly cold air chill their skin as her mind searched desperately for the words to explain her predicament and his mind became clogged with excuses for why he had removed her clothing and found he really could not explain how he had come to spend the night sleeping against her… against her… It was no wonder she was upset and could not look at him. What must she have been thinking!
Her faint voice drew his attention back, "Sully," Her cheeks glowed and he braced himself for her fury. "I need…" She shifted her gaze away towards the fire. "to go!"
He barely caught the words as they flowed out of her in a whisper.
"To go?" He looked at her, a frown pulling his forehead tight.
Her eyes flickered back to his, beseechingly, begging him to understand so that she did not have to spell it out for him.
"Oh!" Sully dipped his head feeling completely foolish. Of course that had been what she meant. Why would she have wanted to leave at a moment like this?
Clothes, she would need clothes if they were going to venture outside. He sat up, the coat falling away, glad of a distraction from the awkwardness that was shivering in the air around them. Michaela jumped a little at her exposure, curling herself in a ball, using her hair as camouflage, as she averted her eyes demurely from the sight of his bare chest and underwear.
He had to bite back the smile, when all he wanted to do was to laugh and relieve the painful tension that was increasing between them, but he got the sense that she might not find their awkward predicament quiet as amusing.
He dragged on his own boots, and crossing to the fire he picked up her boots. They were still really wet, but there was nothing he could do. He returned to her and calmly loosened the laces and reached out for her left foot sliding the boot into place.
"Sully!" she cried, her voice louder than she had expected it to sound; she snatched her foot back, feeling even more dizzy and weak. " I can do it!" she protested, but she was not entirely sure that she could.
"I had too… I thought it would be for the best…" He tried to explain, gesturing to her removed clothes, but she still refused to look at him directly. "You,"
She cut him off pausing in her motions of tying her lace, "I fell in the river…" She whispered, awe tingeing her voice. She shook her head slowly. It was all too much for her to think about right now. The stress on her bladder was increasing by the minute, forcing all other thoughts out of her brain. She managed the second boot without a problem.
Sully knowing when to back away had collected his shirt and was dragging the wet material over his head, when he heard the muffled noise escape her. She must have gotten light-headed whilst reaching behind her for her coat and he leapt over to catch her just before her shoulder slammed into the rough ground.
Limp in his arms she watched him dazedly as he eased her into her coat, protesting the furthest thing from her mind. With the buttons of her coat fastened as best he could, he reached for the end of her hair, and gathering it together in his hands, he wrapped it around her neck in the style of a scarf.
"There," he whispered, with a hopeful, sweet smile seeming to beg forgiveness. A smile which her eyes returned.
Then he slipped his hands underneath her body, not even attempting to try and let her walk, he heaved a deep sigh and then standing with her carried her towards the entrance to the cave.
Beneath heavy eyelids, she studied his face, the extreme seriousness of his tight expression. Worry so plainly cloaking the usual friendly countenance.
She turned her face against his chest as they broached the storm, he could take no such shelter, the snowflakes, pounding against him like frozen spikes of pain.
He carried her over to a series of trees that sprouted from the rise and then he slowly lowered her feet to the ground, she taking back a little control braced herself against a branch.
Both wavered there under the pounding storm for an eternal seeming moment, until, jumping a little he suddenly realised what she was waiting for. Immediately he turned his head away affording her some privacy, staring into the vast nothing, which spread out before him.
It was an awkward manoeuvre, especially as her fingers trembled with the cold and her nerves as she fumbled under the coat, unable to see what she was doing, but somehow she managed it. Wriggling to re-straightened out her bloomers before she cried out his name to let him know when she was finished.
Without another word he carried her back the short distance to the cave. Carefully placing her back on the ground. Their short trip had left her completely exhausted and her eyes drifted closed once more as he hovered above her studying her face.
"Dr. Mike? I think that we should get you out of that coat to keep you dry."
She hummed her response, which was indistinguishable to him, neither a yes, or a no, but she seemed to be coming around again at the increase in temperature.
"Dr. Mike! Your coat?" He asked again. She nodded at him, this time properly confirming her decision, her eyes opening once again.
So he went with her choice, so thankful to pass the decision-making responsibility back over to her; and so he opened her coat spreading it out on the floor beneath her once more. Checking that she was once more as comfortable as she could possibly be in this situation, he made to stand beside her.
"I'll be back." He said as he began to turn away from her.
"Sully?" She asked confused.
He turned back, a cheeky smile flickering across his face. "I…" he sighed, an embarrassed smile appearing, "I have 'to go' too!" He admitted, mimicking her words, shrugging his eyebrows a little. "S'only natural!" he continued trying to lighten the mood with a little teasing.
She dipped her head, wishing she had not asked. The awkwardness was back ten-fold.
She heard his footsteps cross the cave and then she was alone. She brought her hands up over her face as she squealed out her embarrassment, finally able to see the funny side of all this! She had to laugh, if not she might cry.
She saw Sully's expression again as he had tried to explain why she had awoken without her clothing. Lifting the blanketing coat she peered down at herself examining the camisole she wore. Her cheeks rushed a startling pink; she was wearing her most expensive piece, a vestige of her life in Boston. The one time that she had warn it since arriving in Colorado Springs. The one time that she had not had the time to do any proper laundry. What must Sully have thought as he removed all her wet layers of clothing to uncover this! She groaned aloud, pulling the blanket over her face in her shame.
She did not uncover herself when she heard him return. She lay there in her created darkness with her eyes open, listening to him moving closer to her.
"Dr. Mike?" his voice betrayed his nervousness. She peeled back one corner of his coat to reveal one eye, squinting in the firelight.
He held is hand out to her. "Give me your hand." He instructed. So she did, feeling him deposit a small amount of snow onto her palm. She gasped, raising herself up a little, her eyes studying him for an explanation.
"Drink," he encouraged, "you had a fever. You must be thirsty."
She was, in her desperation for other bodily needs to be met, her thirst had been over looked. Lifting her hand she slid fingers into the melting snow, scooping a little up and placing it onto her tongue. Her eyes growing wide at the chill, but her mouth was glad of the liquid. Her thirst remembered she hungrily continued until there was almost no more left. Her eyes rising to his, to find him watching her with un-deniable interest.
Innocently, keeping her eyes locked with his, she scooped up the last of the snow, dragging her fingers over her tongue.
He could not look at her anymore. The temptation and the unbelievable thoughts that raced forth at her actions were too painful to withstand. He turned his face away, unable to bare the torture.
She froze. What had she done?
Then she began to realise how she must look, half dressed, dragging her fingers in and out of her mouth in hungry abandon.
The sudden acknowledgement that she possibly recognised the intention that had lain behind Sully's look slammed into her. She had seen that same dangerous expression aimed at her before, from men like Hank and Jake.
How could she have not seen that she was unwittingly pushing the boundaries that lay between them? A thought flickered in her mind; she wanted to know, wanted to know if the stirrings of interest she saw there in Sully's eyes were of the same kind. Her mind screamed that she should not, that she was a lady, but something other, something long buried, craved the confirmation.
She waited, staring at his back, waiting for the return of his gaze. Wanting to see.
He forced himself to stare at the fire, as the stirring images he had just witness danced hypnotically before him. He knew he should be able to restrain such thoughts, but in their current vulnerable state he found he could not. He knew that both their nerves were frayed, that the intensity of close quarters made everything seem so much more. If she only knew how his earlier actions had let her down.
She had her answer. He could not even bring himself to look at her. She was foolish and forward and he was sparing her the embarrassment.
Feeling the sting of shameful tears prickle, she could not hold them back, the warm moisture escaping down her cheeks. Turning her face away from the solid wall of silence he had created, she curled back on herself.
Hearing her movement and a badly concealed sob of pain he was at her side in moments, whispering, "I'm sorry. I'm just so glad that you are all right. I'm so sorry about all that has happened. Its my fault, it's all my fault!"
He thought her upset was because of his actions, because she suspected his involvement in their misfortunes.
He would never guess that she cried out of confusion. Cried out of shame. Cried because she though she was loosing her most secretly held hope.