Happy Whipped Cream Day, recoilandgrace! Gillian thanks you for the sugar high.

At exactly 1:13:08 then next morning, just as Cal was beginning to think he might succumb to the terrible drowsiness brought on by the biting cold, the silence was broken by the sound of an engine making its way through the trees. This surprising noise was then followed by sharp pounding upon the thin door.

As he pulled the pieces of his scattered mind together and reached the conclusion that perhaps there was something important happening and that he'd better muster the consciousness to pay attention, the door burst open and he found himself face-to-face with...

"Alec? No, I kicked you out last night. No more coke in the bathtub, remember? Go 'way." Gillian's voice, sweet as bird song but also as weak and tremulous as a baby bird in March after it hatches too early, rose from the heap of clothing on Cal's left arm.

Cal did a double take at the plow driver who was still standing shocked in the doorway. With his scarf obscuring most of his face, it was hard to recognize Gillian's ex-husband, the faithful crack addict. But his piercingly intense, clear blue eyes shone out, unhidden by their usual glasses, which would have been cumbersome in this weather for a plowman.

"We got a call about two people trapped in a summer cabin out here. They honed in on your cell phone and sent me out because I have a plow. I was supposed to bring you all into the nearest town." Alec still looked shocked.

"Oi, let's go, then! I'm half frozen, and Gill's even colder," Lightman's words were colored more with relief than with the annoyance he would have shown any other time.

Alec strode across the floor and tried to lift Gillian. He mostly succeeded, and managed to carry her through the door to the cab of his giant orange plow while Lightman staggered after him. After piling blankets on top of them, he brought the engine to life and started back out across the glittering white wonderland, glancing every so often over at Gillian who would have been sleeping peacefully had Alec not given Cal instructions to shake her awake every time she dozed off. "Need both of you conscious."

The heat slowly began to thaw both Cal's brain and his tongue; before long he tilted his head seventy degrees and turned to Alec. "How'd you end up out here? Long way from your office, isn't it?"

Alec refused to rise to the bait. Casting a quick look at Gillian, he quietly remarked with a tone of defeat, "This is my new job."

Gillian chose this point to join in the conversation, her eyes sparkling. "Yes, the only powdered white stuff here is the glittering snow."

Alec chuckled. "True. And I get to spend more time on my new hobby, basket-weaving."

Cal stared incredulously. Gillian smiled indulgently. The plow pulled in front of the hospital.

Alec climbed down, helped Cal out the passenger door, then reached in to pull out Gillian. Once on the ground, she insisted on walking her ownself to the door. After three steps, however, one low-heeled boot wobbled on the ice, and she nearly took off Cal's head with it as Alec caught her. Right in the nick of time, the hospital staff got outside and rushed them in to get warm.

Within the hour, Cal was bundled up snuggly in blankets with only his constantly sideways head and hands sticking out. Alec was off to rescue more trapped travelers, now that the most important woman in his life ever was safe and warm, flirting with the nurse's aide to get extra whipped cream in her hot chocolate. Eventually the aide gave up and just brought her an entire can of spray whip cream, on the condition she would remain overnight for observation and convince Cal to do so as well. He agreed, but only if they could share a room because he really didn't like hospitals at all. The staff was fine with that, so that evening found Cal and Gillian in a double room, watching The Grapes of Wrath on television.

ATTDHS