For Strongerwiththepact and the whump prompt spin: Bruised Ribs + Desert with Gordon.

Deserts were weird places to find a fish, but there was a first time for everything, apparently. And this desert was the harshest place he'd ever been. Another first.

Gordon lay on his back, gasping for breath. The creaking of his ribs told him he definitely had some cracked ones, but there was no blood in his mouth and no wounds on his body, and he was inordinately thankful for that.

Now, if only he could make it back to base camp and raise the alarm. But since his only mode of transport had be destroyed by a stray bullet to one of the tires it looked like a very long and painful walk, with no hope of hiding if they decided to come after him and finish the job properly.

He shivered, pulled his coat around him tighter and set off across the desert. Why couldn't this desert be warm?

Four days ago he'd been sunning himself by the pool on the island when the call had come in. Several Southern Right whales had washed ashore along from Scott Base, and all showed evidence of unnatural deaths. Poaching was not unheard of, but was rare, and it was suspected disregarded fishing equipment was the source. Could International Rescue possibly take a look?

Scott hadn't really needed bribing, he knew how much ocean life meant to his brother, and he had readily agreed as long as Gordon was available in the case of an emergency. They had all seen the damage a fishing net could do to a whale first hand.

Virgil dropped him off the coast of Antarctica as near to the station as possible, retrieving the pod and heading off home while Gordon landed and got to know the scientists living and working on the station. He was given a 101 of what not to do while visiting Antarctica

Day one in Antarctic waters was beautiful, full of sights he'd only seen in nature shows before, but nothing gave any cause for concern. Days two and three were pretty much the same, and Gordon contented himself by taking hundreds of pictures, knowing Virgil would like some, and munching his way through the extra box of celery crunch bars he'd stashed.

If only day four had been the same.

Day four he found the net. But it wasn't a piece of discarded fishing detritus. No, this looked new, and looked to have been placed purposely. Gordon had researched poaching in these waters, and had been surprised that it still happened, even out here at the ends of the earth.

He set about cutting through the netting with Four's laser and managed to get through quite a bit. Now he needed to collect it up and take it ashore for proper disposal. He didn't want to drag it back to the station through the water in case it snagged more wildlife along the way, so he set about hauling it to the landmass of ice.

His first warning should have been the conveniently situated 4x4's. The second should have been that the scientists rarely drove them to ensure that damage to the environment was kept to a minimum.

The third warning was the three men with guns who were looking. Looking for him, it turned out. The net had been alarmed, and they had responded. They must have been nearby to respond so quickly, but then Gordon reasoned that cutting through all that netting did actually take time.

They were unhappy, that much was sure, but he wasn't going to make it easy for them, and by the bay there were some very large rocks that shielded him. While they made their way to the water, he made his way to the land. And the car.

Ever the prankster, true, but his messing with the car engine had the additional benefit of preventing a follower. But somehow they had worked out what was going on and he barely made it into the second truck as a bullet clipped the door.

Gordon wasn't going to hang around, and flinging the net onto the passenger seat, he did up his belt and floored it, thankful that they had left the keys. But he didn't get far. Whatever guns they were using pierced the thick giant tires and Gordon was rolling.

Thank goodness for seat beat. It didn't leave him unscathed, though, and after getting out he lay on the snow for a minute, catching his breath and working out what to do next.

Standing up cautiously, it seemed he'd actually travelled quite a distance from the other car as it was no longer in sight. Shouldering the net, now his proof of poaching, he hit his comms as he walked. Walking would keep him warm while he waited for Two to come pick him up and keep some distance from whomever was shooting at him.

Two was out on a rescue, so it fell to One and his oldest brother to rescue him. He didn't mind that, Scott would be here very quickly, and Gordon began to relax. The desert around him might be white instead of sandy, and cold rather than hot, but she had her own beauty. It was calm today, but when the wind blew the snow along she was a sight to behold.

Sure enough, he could hear One approaching already, then jumped out of his skin when his brother hailed him. No, not him. Scott was hailing the men that were obviously following him. In his meandering mind he had slowed down, and although they still were some distance away, he could see them if he squinted.

They didn't stand a chance against One, and just to make sure Scott fired the cargo netting at them, the ends tangling them up, while he went to pick up Gordon. Dropping Gordon off at Base, Scott proceeded to New Zealand to drop off the poachers, promising Gordon that Virgil would be along as soon as possible to pick him and Four up.

The scientists were delighted with the news that a group of poachers had been caught and the netting removed, and there were bear hugs all round.

That's when Gordon remembered his ribs.