Note #1 - Thank you everyone for all your wonderful feedback. Sorry this is only a short update. I got really overwhelmed, but I should be back on track now.

Shafted

"Huh? It's not like in the movies," Alfred said, sticking his head out of the opened roof of the elevator and scanning around the darkened inside of the shaft.

He held up his mini-flashlight — something he had always carried like his pocket knife since his boy scout days — and took in its rusted exterior and black cables snaking up into the darkness.

"I see the doors!" he said happily. The elevator had stopped only a foot above them. "Help me up."

He scowled when Ivan squeezed his butt cheeks. Grabbing the sides of the opening, he pulled himself up and used his chance to stick his socked foot in Ivan's face.

"Asshole!" Alfred called once he was off Ivan and waved his middle finger at the freak. As sick as the man was, he still had the strength to lift Alfred up.

The man clearly didn't skip his work outs.

"Hmm..? Problem?" Ivan called sweetly. He still had a flushed feverish look, but seemed surprisingly together.

Alfred glared down at the man below who was bathed in the red glow of the emergency lights. He looked a devil crawled out of hell.

The metal groaned under Alfred as he moved and went to the doors.

"Be careful, Fredka, ~" Ivan called.

"Thanks, mommy," Alfred said sarcastically. "And my name is Alfred, Ivan the Ass."

The metal felt cold under his feet. He had left his shoes on the carpet of the elevator because someone was paranoid about getting dirt stains on their scarf. With the heat out, it was starting to get cold.

After a moment of quiet, Ivan called up, "My name is EE-van. Pronounce it correctly."

Alfred rolled his eyes. Lies. The bastard was making it up.

Carefully stepping over the thick cables and on the slippery metal, he reached the metal doors and tried to pry them apart. Holding his light between his teeth, he took out his pocket knife, opened it, and tried to wedge open the door.

It was no good.

"Shit," he called, putting his knife back in his pocket and grabbing his light out of his mouth. He hit a fist on the door and the metal rang out. "Hey! Still got that creepy-ass pipe, Ivan?"

"Sadly, I do not," Ivan said. There was a mournfulness to his voice as he said so.

"The one time I wanted him to have a pipe." Alfred ran his fingers through his air, trying to think of a plan. He brightened, slapping his fist in his palm. He always had the most amazing plans. Going back to the opening, he called down to Ivan, "Do you have any gunpowder or C-4 by chance? So I can blow the door."

For some reason Ivan only stared at him, as if he were crazy.

"You can't tell me you've never been asked that before." Alfred said, squatting down.

"Do you have any donuts or hamburgers by chance? You can't tell me you've never been asked that before," Ivan replied coolly.

Alfred grunted, refusing to admit that as a matter of fact he had. And as a matter of fact, he did have a half-eaten donut in his inside coat pocket — saved as an emergency ration.

"Is your phone completely dead? Does it have enough juice to call for help?" Alfred asked hopefully.

Ivan shook his head sadly, slumping to the floor of the elevator. Sweat glistened on his forehead and he did not look well. A prick of guilt swam through Alfred for rousing Ivan to lift him up here.

As much as he wanted to curse at Ivan for getting them into this mess, Alfred didn't have the heart to do it while Ivan was unwell. He didn't understand why the man nearly killed himself waiting in the cold. Ivan must have very high quality fabric or was just very good at enduring the cold because he did not seem to show signs of frostbite from what Alfred could see.

Standing up next to the hatch, Alfred stared up and said, more to himself, "I wonder what John McCain would do?"

"Who?"

With a strangled cry, Alfred called, "John McCain. You know? Die Hard."

Ivan looked confused.

"That fever must have cooked your brain. Have you been living in a cave?" Alfred said, waving his arms dramatically. "How could you forget the greatest Christmas movie evah?"

"Christmas movie?" Ivan frowned. "Are you s—."

"It's Christmas movie! It takes place on Christmas. Therefore, a Christmas movie!" Alfred interrupted. "Anyhow, you're distracting me. I'm making a brilliant escape plan. Just wait down there. Keep your evil aura there."

Ivan stared at him with that strange curious expression.

"I mean it! No peeking up here. I'm gonna be in the midst of a brilliant plan. Under no circumstances come up here!" Alfred called backing out of sight of the hatch toward a corner of the elevator roof.

He paused, staring down into the darkness below. He couldn't see the bottom. Unable to wait any longer, he unzipped his fly and let Florida — coz he nicknamed everything — out in the nippy air. He had needed to pee for the past hour.

"Ah, yeah," he said, relief flooding him as he urinated off the side. "That feels good. I needed relief."

"Is that why you wanted privacy?" Ivan asked from behind.

Startled, Alfred whipped around to see Ivan had somehow gotten his head above the edge of the hatch and watched him, head tilted. Flushing and realized he had turned around and exposed Florida to Ivan, he jumped back.

A bad choice as he lost his balance, his arms pinwheeling and fell over the edge with a cry.

This was not how the hero dies.

TBC in … "Fall For Me"

Note — Sorry, I didn't get to the stopping point I wanted. I've been really busy. I hope this little update will tide fans over in the meantime. This is a structured story and has been from the beginning.

So we're approaching the next big drama marker (the first two were - Ivan being punched and Alfred finding Ivan in the snow). Each is meant to escalate things. There is a big one coming that I hope will have the intended affect on readers.

It's always terrible when you want to be at a certain place in a story but aren't there now. :/

Thank you for the pms. It's pretty much over now so I should be back on schedule and able to catch up on some things (finally).