Cold.

Iciness embraced her. Sherlock was no longer at her side and all warmth had left with him. With a shiver, Joan opened her eyes, blinked and tried to focus. The storm had subsided and the light of an almost full moon crept in through the cabin's dirty windows, patterning the darkness.

His silhouette stood by the now cold fireplace, his blanket loose about his shoulders. He turned into the moonlight and she could see him taking down their clothes.

"Sherlock, it's the middle of the night and freezing cold. What are you doing?" His sense of priorities confused her on the best of days but this, this was just insane.

"Almost done," his response came stilted by the icy air. He placed her shirt between the folds of a towel.

Joan tightened her blanket closer about her, "Almost done with what?" She really didn't care what he was doing. She just wanted his body back beside her; his temperature ran hotter than most and right now she wanted that heat next to her.

"Done." He grabbed his bundles of towels and blankets. "Stand up, please."

She muttered, her teeth chattered and she shivered but Joan trusted him enough to do as he asked.

Sherlock lifted the cushions from the sofa and set the bundles beneath, "This will finish drying whatever small amounts of water remains in our clothes, and most importantly, provide them with a modicum of warmth, when we put them on in the morning. Frozen undergarments are not the most pleasant of ways to start the day, hmm?"

"Ah!" Joan nodded, "Good thinking. It's no wonder I lo..." She caught herself and bit her tongue.

He turned towards her, mouth slightly open, his eyes roamed her face. An awkward moment passed between them and an embarrassed Joan changed the subject.

"Are you done? 'Cause I'm freezing." Her shoulders shook, emphasizing her words.

"Yes, yes..." Sherlock quickly sat and bounced, squishing the cushions down over the lumps of clothes. Opening his blanket, he motioned her towards him.

The awkwardness of cozying up to a half naked Sherlock when she had almost confessed to an emotion that was anathema to him stopped her for a split second. Her freezing body though made the decision for her and moved with speed to his side. He wrapped the blanket around both of them; Joan found her place, her arms went around his waist and she tucked her bent legs on top of his.

They arranged the blankets for each other so heads and necks and feet were covered and then just held on tight. Together, they shook and shuddered attempting to dispel the cold.

"It's alright, you know," he whispered to the top of her head. "You can say the word. I know you love me ... as I do you."

Joan didn't move. Her body stiffened but she did not move. She could not look at him and talked into his chest. "I thought you didn't believe love was real."

Sherlock, at first concerned by the taut strain her body took against his, realized her dilemma quickly enough. "I spent a good eight months, and then some, pondering the reality of that emotion and the need for it and ultimately concluded that since I have felt love, it must be real ... at least to me. Mind you, I'm not talking about the flittery flutter love of poets and teenage boys. Romantic love is an illusion that soon fades away. If the true emotion is not standing behind it, all you are left with is a handful of air."

The words lingered between them before drifting out into the darkness. Her body relaxed against his and she nestled further into his warmth. He felt her breath, warm and soft, on his chest. She moved her hand slightly, her thumb, reassuring and gentle, stroked his side. For Sherlock that was enough, he understood his partner's response without the need for words. He carefully lowered his head to the top of hers and closed his eyes.

She listened to his breath take on the clothes of sleep; his heart slowing to a steady rhythm. In the cocoon of blankets they'd created, she turned over his words in her mind and studied them like a faceted jewel. Though, she had guessed his feelings long ago, the words' utterance were important to her.

"I love you." She exhaled the words, tattooing them onto his chest and placing a soothing kiss atop them.

To her surprise, Sherlock stirred, his lips placed several small kisses on her head before his arms tightened and brought her even closer.