I was in the mood to write something lighter after consecutively working on several chapters of Cruel Summer and this was the result. After suffering through a 100+ degree heatwave (unusual temps where I am), a winter story was a lovely indulgence. I hope you all enjoy!

"Why do we keep getting stuck in motel rooms without our clothes?"

Angela shuttered. Part of it was from the thought Tony had dared to voice this aloud, but most of it was because she was still chilled to the bone. She only wished the first time they'd been trapped it had been during a blizzard. Praying against frostbite would have given them a good distraction. At that point in their relationship, the gravity of their temptation seemed much more concerning.

Now it was concerning for different reasons. Back then, if something had happened it would likely have been a one-time thing, both agreeing why it couldn't continue. Now? It was certainly less uncomfortable wearing sheets and towels in each other's presence, but the desire to be together was stronger, deeper, undeniable, and not something that could be brushed off as easily as the time near Jonathan's camp.

And yet, it didn't feel as risky. Only the technicalities got in the way. They were past denying their attraction. Any revelations wouldn't be so new and frightening nor something they felt needed to stay hidden. It was a matter of not complicating their lives while things were so hectic already. Should tonight lead them to it, could they really start a romantic relationship with Billy just getting settled? Ultimately, she wasn't scared of what might happen. She only cared about thawing out.

"I don't know," she said with a chuckle.

Unlike that summer years ago, Angela hadn't fashioned a dress out of the sheet. Instead, she held it tightly around her shoulders. The room was heated, but it didn't matter much with the drafts. Every time a strong wind hit it tore through the room. Likewise, Tony kept one towel around his waist and one around his shoulders.

"I'm sorry I took the only sheet."

That was another difference this time — sort of. One bed. Thankfully it was a queen this time. They wouldn't have to squeeze onto the tiny twin mattress. If only someone had offered them a pair of pajamas to split again… it seemed less intimidating that way. As far as temperature was concerned, both were happy a single bed was the last room available. They hadn't been the only travelers caught off-guard.

"It's all right. I took the only towels."

They shared a brief, nervous laugh.

"Were you able to call home?" Angela asked after a moment, sitting down on the foot of the bed.

"I was just about to try. But, uh, what do I tell them?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do I pretend I'm in my room and you have your own?"

"I don't think they will ask either way under the circumstances. Just omit the sleeping arrangements."

Tony nodded, then picked up the phone and dialed.

Mona answered, her voice with the rare note of concern when she heard Tony's voice on the other end.

He explained what happened.

He and Angela had been coming back from Boston. When Angela announced she had a meeting there, Tony offered to drive, excited to make a road trip out of it. Lately, he found himself looking for every opportunity for time alone with Angela. Billy was so young and still so new to their family that it was more difficult than ever to step out of their parental roles.

It was a cold but nice day. After her meeting, they wandered around Faneuil Hall, eating, shopping, watching the street performers — too many distractions to look at the sky and heed warnings from the clouds. They started home after dinner. The forecast mentioned possible flurries that morning, but they hadn't thought much of it again until they reached Connecticut and drove into the storm.

Tony, always stubborn, refused to admit defeat even as his head began hurting from the strain he was putting his eyes through. The highway was completely white aside from the odd set of tire tracks created by other unwise drivers. He pressed on, hunched over the wheel and muttering things in Italian. Angela grew weary of her attempts to make him stop, but as it slowly started to clear up enough to read the exit signs, she thought they might actually make it home.

That is, until they hit the steep hill on I-84.

The road slick with black ice, the wheels of Tony's Jeep spun, perpetuated by the layer of snow on top of it. The breaks were useless as they descended backward and off the road into a gully.

The car was relatively unharmed, though did require a tow truck's assistance. Tony and Angela shivered out there for over an hour. In the dark and snow, it would be impossible to walk somewhere for help. Thankfully someone finally happened by — a plow and salting truck. Too little too late, both had thought.

They stood out in the snow and wind, their toes and fingers aching and burning. They hugged each other for warmth, their thin jackets useless against the wind. By the time they climbed into the truck, they were soaked through with ice. The driver took them to the nearest motel.

Tony, of course, omitted any mention of his and Angela's present state other than assuring the family they were no worse for wear. Mona didn't pry any further to their relief, not even questioning it when Angela took the phone to say goodnight.

"We're hoping to be back tomorrow, but it will depend on the weather and if my car will drive," Tony said before hanging up. "We'll check-in in the morning… All right, bye-bye."

Angela let out an exhausted sigh as she leaned back on the bed. Sticking her foot up, she checked her toes. Reddish, but not darkening. They looked better than they felt.

Tony noticed this. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I just thought I'd warm up by now. How are you feeling?"

"About the same," he said as he sat down next to her. "My fingers are at least room temperature."

Sitting up and curiously grazing her fingers over his, she said, "Mine are getting there."

Without much thought, he flipped his hand over to take hold of hers. He almost asked for her other one as he brought both of his together with her sandwiched in between, then remembered she needed to maintain her hold on the sheet. Instead, he smiled. She looked so small and delicate in this bundle of linen with her head and arm poking out. It was a sharp contrast to the strong, heroic woman he always viewed her as since day one.

"Do motels usually have minibars?" she asked, changing the subject once she'd felt his eyes on her for too long.

"Doubt it," he answered. "Hungry?"

She nodded. "Could use a drink, too. I thought we'd met our end when we lost control."

"I dunno about the end, but I was sure I'd wreck the Jeep. We'll see once the snow stops if there are any dents and scratches."

She nudged her shoulder against his. "Maybe next time you'll listen to me when I tell you to pull off."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he grumbled.

"At least we had a big dinner. Hopefully, the roads will be clear by morning even if we're still stuck here. I think I noticed a diner up the road."

Tony turned his head in the direction of the window though the curtains were drawn. "There's gotta be three feet out there and it's still falling. I'll be surprised if anything opens right away."

Her stomach threatened to rumble at the thought.

Seeing her frown, he changed his tone. "Nearly flipping over, being stuck here indefinitely without food, and frozen toes aside, it's been nice to get away. We should take day trips more often."

Her lips molded into a soft smile. "We should. Being stuck like this isn't so bad, either."

He smirked at this. "Not at all."

They held each other's eyes for several seconds before Angela forced herself to break it. It felt good to be able to say things like this to him again. After the turbulent months spent with other people, things were beginning to feel similar to how they were a year ago.

"We haven't stayed anywhere together since we were in South Carolina."

"I wish we were back there right now. It was like summer when we went. That was around this time, right?"

"February. More like spring if you ask me."

"Close enough."

She chuckled after a moment. "It is strange how often we get stuck in a one-room situation."

"Think it means something?" He glanced at her through the side of his eye.

With a shrug, she said, "Mother would call it kismet."

"Ah, I don't believe in that stuff. You have to make things happen for yourself."

"I suppose," she said with an air of disappointment. "You're the one who asked."

"What, you think it's fate?"

Again, she shrugged. "I don't know. It seems like it's more than a coincidence when we end up in these situations. Take the first time this happened for example. Not only did we find out we were each other's first kiss, but we got caught in a freak storm. For crying out loud, the ceiling collapsed forcing us to share one little bed. You don't find that unusual?"

Instead of coming up with an excuse or shying away from the notion as she'd anticipated, Tony nearly blushed, unable to contain a grin. "I haven't thought about that for a while."

"What? Being stuck together?"

"Our first kiss."

"Oh," she said contentedly.

"I will admit I haven't been able to make sense of that one yet."

"Especially where we grew up in such different places."

Slurring his best Humphrey Bogart impression, he said, "Of all the camps, in all the towns, in all the world…"

Teasingly, she replied, "Very funny."

"Hey, you're the big Casablanca fan, here, Ingrid."

Angela nodded. "I thought of Anthony every time I watched that film."

"Do you still?"

"It's been a while."

"That doesn't answer my question."

Holding his gaze, she answered, "I think about you."

Before he realized what he was doing, Tony leaned in close to her, placing a gentle kiss on her lips. It wasn't deep and only lasted a few seconds but was completely welcomed and reciprocated. When they pulled apart, they smiled. It seemed like the only natural response.

They let the moment linger as long as they could before words were necessary again. Angela was the first to speak.

"Perhaps this isn't the most ideal time to say this, but I'm going to crawl into bed. I need to get my feet off the floor."

He watched as she stood up and moved to the top of the bed, struggling with one arm to straighten out the comforter she'd messed up when taking the sheet. He found amusement in her struggle, especially since it didn't seem to occur to her to ask for help.

"Here," he said as he stood. "I'll get it."

"Thank you."

She was able to snuggle in a few seconds later, making a cocoon around her feet and ankles. She let out a weary moan when she laid back against the pillows.

"Are they really that bad?"

"Achy. Heels were not designed for trekking snow."

Putting a knee up on the mattress, he patted her shin. "Let me see."

She almost resisted, knowing they'd already entered murky territory. Soreness quickly won over. She untucked herself and pushed her feet against his hip.

Tony took one foot at a time, giving a more thorough inspection for signs of frostbite than she had before. No major discoloration. He rubbed his hands over her quickly hoping the friction would help.

"I remember how warm your toes were back at Jonathan's camp."

"I wish I could remember. What I wouldn't give for summer temperatures right now."

"It's funny, though, because that night I was wishing it was winter. The heat didn't help… you know, everything."

She looked away. "Not at all."

After instructing her to give her the other foot, he said, "I have no idea how we managed to get through that night."

"It wasn't easy."

"As hard as it was in South Carolina."

Glancing back at him, she agreed. "Maybe more there."

"Oh?"

As his hands slowed into a massage, she leaned her head back again and closed her eyes. "Just how everything was last year… a lot of…"

"Warding off temptation?" he offered.

"That's it."

"I know what you mean."

She opened her eyes again when he stopped and felt him shift. Both of his feet were on the floor now as he faced away from her.

Moving the slightest bit closer to him, she said, "But it feels different now."

He glanced behind him. "Yeah?"

"Safer."

His shoulders fell. "Oh."

"A good safe," she corrected, feeling he'd misinterpreted her. She touched his arm as she continued. "We've been through a lot since then. Our relationship… it's still our relationship. But we've grown. Raising Billy feels different than Jonathan and Samantha."

"Kinda like he's ours."

"Exactly," she said as she brushed his cheek with her fingertips. "He's brought us closer."

Finally turning to face her, he said, "I'm glad for that."

"So am I."

It was Angela who initiated the kiss this time, closing the distance between them without disagreement from Tony. Putting his hand on the small of her back, he pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. This near to each other, Angela was able to make use of both of her arms, the sheet slipping off her shoulders enough to allow her to hold onto him. The towel around his dropped as she locked her arms around his neck.

He moved his hand up to the exposed part of her back and caressed between her shoulder blades, his lips briefly moving from her lips down to her neck. She pulled his head to her as he did so, letting out a soft, contented moan. Then recapturing her lips, he tried not to notice how much the sheet was slipping down.

"Where are we going with this?" he was forced to ask through strained breaths when they eventually broke apart, however, he couldn't resist pecking her lips again before she spoke.

Scrambling to adjust the fallen sheet, she said, "I don't know."

He tried to lighten the mood with a joke, but it came out sounding more serious. "One way to keep warm, I guess."

She chuckled. "Yes, it would be…"

Tony sighed. "But we shouldn't."

"I know," she nodded sadly.

Lifting her hand, he squeezed it, asking shyly, "Is it okay if I sleep here, though? I don't think I can tough it out on the floor this time."

"Of course. I didn't expect you to."

"Thank you."

Without another word, they switched off the lamps and crawled under the covers.

Angela's lips still tingled from his kisses, wishing so much to ignore the warning signals her brain was sending. She adjusted the sheet once again, hoping to minimize the chances of kicking them off in the middle of the night. She could feel Tony watching as she squirmed around, picking up the sense that he was fighting with the same thoughts she was.

"Sorry," she said once she finally found a comfortable position.

"No need."

They laid on their sides facing each other, sharing the same look of longing. They kept coming so close. Would it be worth the risk? They had to wonder. Perhaps it would've been possible if they were certain they'd be going home tomorrow and forced to return to their respective roles.

"This doesn't get any easier," Tony whined. "Believe me, if it weren't for the storm, I'd figure something out on the floor. Even the chair."

"We'll get by," she said, though not wholly convinced herself.

"Was it dumb to let ourselves get carried away a few minutes ago?"

"Probably. But I think with us, these moments are always a long time coming."

"Are we crazy for keeping the distance we do? I mean, it would be so easy…"

When he didn't finish, Angela said, "This might not be the best conversation for tonight. We're both shaken up from the accident."

"You're right… you're right. We can't make this kind of decision right now."

"No."

"At least we can justify everything else. What's a near-death experience without fooling around a little afterward?"

With a smirk, she said, "I thought you said you didn't think anything was going to happen to us?"

"I didn't," he said, "but if it gives me an excuse to kiss you I'm an idiot not to take it."

"Does that mean you plan on kissing me again?"

"Possibly," he teased.

"I'll hold you to that."

They gazed at each other through what little light shone in from the window. Tony reached his hand over to her, tucking loose strands of still-damp hair behind her ears. When she smiled at him, he leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek.

"Next time we share a bed, I hope I won't have to be a gentleman."

"Well," she said, her voice dropping to that low octave that drove him wild, "a gentleman would put his arm around a lady who's caught a chill."

He readily obliged her, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her to his side as close as the bundled sheet still covering her would allow.