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It felt like they'd been on the run for days, but judging by the moon, they reached the cave Scarecrow was guiding them toward sometime between midnight and one in the morning. It seemed like they'd lost at least half of their pursuers despite their efforts to "accidentally" lead them away from the village and their team's most likely escape route. Hopefully they'd given up and headed back to the base, where hopefully the good guys would round them up and haul them away.

Wishful thinking! They probably fell down, got lost, or maybe took the opportunity to jump ship and head back to whatever rock they crawled out from under.

In a way, she'd have rathered they all still be pursuing her and Scarecrow. At least she'd know where they were. There hadn't been any more gunfire after that first burst and Scarecrow's SOS. That meant they weren't completely untrained: a ricochet off a tree could be fatal.

Once they reached the mouth of the cave, Scarecrow stopped.

"I need your cigarettes."

She knew he didn't smoke, but handed over the pack. He removed her lighter and several cigarettes and promptly dropped them as he handed them back to her.

"That's not the best way to tell me I should quit." She bent down trying to find them all in the dim light.

"Stand guard. This'll only take a minute or two."

Apology accepted I guess? Maybe I shoulda lent him my flashlight.

He ducked down to enter the cave. A minute or two turned into three or four. She was starting to wonder if something happened, or if she should go in after him. After several more minutes, he finally he returned, walking backwards. He no longer had her pack of smokes. She understood immediately that he'd dropped it in the next chamber of the cave, then returned backwards so if the footprints were available to be tracked, it would initially look like two people went in and nobody came out. It wouldn't stand up to trained observation, but she had the feeling that wouldn't be a problem.

It was one of the oldest tricks in the book, but it was still in the book because it worked a good percent of the time. For good measure, he broke a few small branches on a sapling near the mouth of the cave to further identify the decoy trail. As long as their pursuers were able to find the cave, the ruse should work.

If she had her bearings right, the second chamber in the cave branched off in two directions. They hadn't mapped the southeastern branch, but the passage running northeast eventually connected to another passage leading to an entrance not far from the village.

There was another part to his plan.

"Quick, take off your top."

"You've gotta be kidding."

"No! No, not your top! The one on top of it. The dead guy's top." She could tell by his voice that he was embarrassed by the misunderstanding. "It's brown. You're wearing a dark shirt underneath. This tan shirt is too easy to see, and they'll be looking for it. We need to go to ground and catch our breath for a minute."

Ugh... awkward! Heck of a ladies man there, Scarecrow. Good call, though. Think I should mention that the blood on his tee will start attracting bugs if we stay in one place for long? Nah. I'll give him a break. He mortified himself enough; I'll let him bask in it.

She quickly stripped the garment off and handed it over. As she'd pointed out earlier, he was much larger than either of the dead guys. The thin sweater was too short and almost comically tight on him. Good thing you're on the skinny side! Gawd, that must've really emphasized my chest!

The night air was chilly and unpleasant on her sweat-soaked skin and she imagined it was less enjoyable for Scarecrow when he removed his tee to give himself a little more room in the sweater. At least it wasn't windy. She wished she'd thought to grab her jacket when she freed Cal and Glinda back in the tent, or even that the team they'd taken out earlier had been carrying rucksacks rather than ammo sacks. They'd at least keep her back warm. And maybe have a canteen. Or snacks.

They quickly put the gear back on, then Scarecrow grabbed her hand again as they moved away from the cave. They traveled more slowly and cautiously now, from both caution and exhaustion. The scattered sounds of pursuit echoed weirdly through the woods, seeming to come from everywhere at once as they searched for a place with good cover to rest and see if their hunters followed the bait.

It had begun getting cloudy a while earlier and the wind was starting to pick up. They could tell by the out-turned leaves illuminated by the patchy moonlight that rain was imminent. The night was already chilly; rain and even a light wind would make it dangerous. Hypothermia could set in at much higher temperatures than most people realized, and they both recognized that the current temperature was well below that threshold with rain and likely long exposure factored in.

Dorothy hoped the rest of the team had managed to make it to the village by now. It was an easy walk once they connected with the hiking trails. She could just imagine Glinda complaining about her hair and expecting the guys to tell her she looked fine. She still wasn't sure if it was an act or actual vanity, but she was glad to be in this predicament with, well, literally any teammate other than Glinda by her side.

They eventually came upon a large poplar tree that had been uprooted when it fell into a few neighboring trees, creating a natural hollow with adequate space for two people where the roots had been lifted out of the ground. The soil itself was still soft and damp from the previous day's rain, so they sat on their ammo packs to stay dry and somewhat insulated from the chilly earth.

As she finally sank down and leaned back against the root bundle, Dorothy heard -more than felt- something crinkly in the back pocket of the pants she'd taken from the dead guy earlier. She reached back and extracted a small silver foil package.

Scarecrow heard the crinkling and looked over. "A rubber?" He sounded a bit incredulous.

Dorothy laughed, more amused than relieved. "Ha! Coulda been our lucky night! But from what I've seen, these guys aren't in much danger of needing that kind of protection."

She originally thought it was some sort of food wrapper, but realized it was neatly folded. "Looks like Deadguy here packed an emergency blanket. Might be our lucky night after all!"

Scarecrow was all for that kind of lucky night at this point. "If we can start a little fire, we can use it to keep the wind out and the heat in."

They started scavenging for small, dry twigs and loose bark for kindling. Soon they had a nice little teepee structure set up with a bit of extra wood to feed it and had used their knives and a few rocks to hang the mylar sheet from the overhang created by the uprooted tree. All things considered, it was pretty cozy.

They both tried several times to light the kindling with Dorothy's lighter. No luck.

"It must have broken when you dropped it. I knew I should've brought matches instead of these cheap plastic things."

"Are you sure it worked earlier?"

Seriously? Just admit you broke it when you dropped it.

"Obviously it worked earlier. Have I killed anyone while we've been out here?" She hadn't meant it to come out so harshly.

After a few tense seconds, they both realized what she'd said and were exhausted enough to find it hilarious, especially since she often claimed to smoke to keep herself from killing people.

"Okay, point taken. But you killed more than I did. What's your excuse?"

"Um...saving you?"

"Oh. Right." She turned and batted her eyelashes at him in the most comically exaggerated, flirtatious manner she could muster. " Aww, you do like me. You really do!" she purred. " Excuse accepted."

"I suppose we could huddle under this thing, if you don't mind sharing with the butterfingers who broke your lighter."

"Apology accepted too. You're on a roll here."

They took the thin silver sheet down and tried to get comfortable under it. The blankets were definitely not designed for two people, especially when one was considerably taller than the other.

Dorothy was realistic about the situation. "Look, we're going to have to get much closer to conserve body heat."

"Probably a good idea." He awkwardly inched closer. He noticed she was starting to shiver and put his arms around her to try warming her up, his hand running up and down her arm.

"This blanket is too small. I'm gonna hafta sit in front of you, in your lap, use ya like a big, comfy chair."

"And I'll use you like, I dunno..." He was at an embarrassingly odd loss for words as she climbed awkwardly into his lap and pulled his arms around her again before adjusting the blanket to mostly cover both of them.

"Like your favorite stuffed animal from when you were a kid?"

"I don't remember having one. I know I must have, when I was really small."

"Before your parents died?"

"Yeah. Then afterwards my uncle didn't have patience for anything he considered soft. We didn't even go back to the house from the hospital afterward."

She was surprised he answered. He was notoriously reticent about his childhood. "That had to be confusing for such a little kid."

"It wasn't the first time we'd moved without notice. I do remember that. I couldn't have been more than 3 the first time, or at least the first time I remember. I was at my Aunt Emily's house for a few days while my parents were away on an assignment, but it felt like much longer. Then my parents picked me up and we went to a house I'd never been to and they told me that's where we lived now. None of my old stuff was there, and they told me I was going to be called Lee from now on."

"I thought you said that was your name, after a family friend."

"It is. Always has been. Lee after Aunt Emily who wasn't actually my aunt but a close family friend my parents worked with. Then Matthew after my father. Lee Matthew Stetson. They'd called me Matty before that."

She snuggled into him a little, trying to get warm. "Can't picture you as a 'Matty'. Lee suits you."

"You always call me Scarecrow."

"That suits you, too. Like a nice, warm pile of straw bedding." She turned partially to look up at him, concerned. "I hope you're not getting sick. You're awfully warm."

"Nah, just my high metabolism. So you don't think I'd be a good Matthew? Or Matt?"

"Nope. A mat is something people walk all over, and that's not you."

"This seems a little weird, but you know my name and I'm not sure I know yours. You're always Dorothy."

"Could be what's on on my birth certificate. Ya never know."

"I'll bet it's something awful, like Dorcas or something. Maybe Mavis. Or Brenda."

"What's so awful about Brenda? Bad association?"

"I didn't think so at the time."

"Ah, one of those bad associations."

"No clue what you're talking about."

He most definitely knew what she was talking about, but she didn't really want details. It was just ...weird... to think of him in those kind of situations.

"I don't know either. Just yanking your chain. You're pretty mysterious sometimes." And a little adorable when you're flustered. I bet he'd brag to the guys about this Brenda, whoever she was.

"Or perhaps I'm just not very interesting."

"Yeah, I can buy that." She couldn't help herself. She tried to stifle a yawn, but exaggerated it instead, knowing it would get a rise out of him. None of these guys ever think they're "not very interesting"

.

He laughed a little. "You're supposed to reassure me that I'm one of the most interesting guys you've ever met; maybe mention how handsome and charming I am."

"Sure thing, Glinda. And your hair looks amazing."

"Guess I set myself up for that one."

"Not that you don't have a ...few... good qualities." she conceded, squirming a little, trying to get comfortable.

She knew he was hoping she'd continue, but realized that this was the kind of conversation that could seem more ...significant... in situations like this. And really, he does have a lot of good qualities. Obviously he's one of the best in the business, but he's also a damn fine man when he allows himself to be. He'd disagree with me on that, though. She acted like she was trying very hard to think of one or two of those "few good qualities".

"Thought of a few! Your blast furnace metabolism is at the top of the list at the moment. Nobody else I'd rather be stuck with when it's just two cold people looking for a little warmth. Marksmanship is right up there too. Unfortunately ...your death scene lacked the passion and drama to earn an Academy Award nomination, though."

"Come on now, we didn't even get a dress rehearsal!" He shifted a little, trying to get comfortable with her in his lap. "And yeah, just two cold people trying to stay warm."

"That's all it ever is in these situations, my friend. All it ever is. That and staying alive of course."

"Definitely that. Consider me your electric blanket and you can be my body pillow."

The rain was starting to fall harder but the overhang from the uprooted tree kept them out of the worst of it. Unfortunately it didn't do much to protect them when the wind changed direction. The blanket helped a lot, even though it was too small to fully cover them.

It had been quite a while since they'd heard their pursuers. She figured they'd found the cave and realized that even if it was a decoy, it was a dry, sheltered decoy. Or maybe they already knew where the caves went and chased them toward the village assuming they'd gone that way.

She realized she was falling asleep, but also that Scarecrow was saying something. "Sorry, what?"

"Oh nothing. Just saying how if I had to do this with someone I'm glad it's you."

An image flashed through her mind. She giggled. She couldn't help herself. "I can just imagine you snuggling under this thing with Paul or The Lion."

"I think I'd rather either of them to Glinda. I'm not sure why she doesn't like me."

"Oh, she likes you."

"That makes no sense."

"It's a girl thing."

"Like I said, makes no sense."

She wasn't about to explain it. For such a supposed ladies' man, he was pretty clueless sometimes. "I'm glad it's you here, too. We're a good team."

"I've mostly been following your lead."

"That's what makes us a good team." She was mostly joking but could sense that he took it literally. "Listen, shit hitting the fan is my territory. We know when to lead and when to follow. We both do. You're the best at advanced planning and situations that require that certain social something you've got and I don't. In those situations, I follow your lead unless-"

"Unless I ask you to wait in the car. I know, I know. That was one time."

"The chivalry is sweet, but damsel in distress isn't my bag. And I make lousy window dressing at formal functions." What is it about me in a nice dress that attracts bad guys like flies? I never get to just stand around being a stone fox, accepting champagne from cute waiters, and trying all sorts of fancy little snack foods.

He remembered their sparring earlier and how it really was just dumb luck that he'd managed to take her down. "No, it definitely isn't, and you're far too good to assign as window dressing. Window breaking on the other hand..."

He'd probably never know how she'd managed to break in through a 5th floor window and save his bacon that time in Boston, but he was sure glad she had. She smiled at the memory. Getting in was the easy part. Getting his 6'2" drugged ass out the window and safely back to the pavement was another story.

"Listen, we'll always have each other's back. It's what we do. It's who we are."

He gave her a little squeeze...and a big yawn. She figured it had to be close to 3 by now. Just a few more hours until it starts getting light. At least one of us needs to stay awake. Wish my lighter worked. Sure could go for a smoke. And something to eat.

She felt his arms relax around her and his breathing shift to the deep rhythm of sleep. Okay, guess I'll take the first watch.

At some point she must have managed to lightly doze off. They were jarred awake by the sounds of something -or someone- walking close by. The rain had stopped and the moonlight seemed to creep into their little hiding spot and shine directly on the silver emergency blanket.

In a surprisingly fluid movement, both had grabbed their pilfered rifles. I bet that looked really cool, like something out of a James Bond movie. Convenient that he's a lefty.

Fortunately the only ones who might have been impressed were a doe and two fawns. She wondered if they'd holed up in one of the places the deer often bedded down. With a resentful flick of her white tail, she and her babies turned and were on their way.

Once the adrenaline wore off, Dorothy became uncomfortably aware that her right foot was asleep ...and that she needed to pee. Being Dorothy, she found the humor in the situation, especially with his, um, morning salute, pressed against her back. Feels like the rumors about his equipment aren't exaggerated. Glinda would be all over him. Maybe he'd pee on her. She laughed to herself. No way was she going to share that thought.

Being Scarecrow, and also needing to relieve himself, he was simply straightforward and practical about it, seemingly ignoring his morning wood.

"Listen, I'm going to go water some trees. Keep my spot warm, okay?"

"Think I'm going to go water some other trees. Funny how they never cover this part in the movies. They're missing out. Could be a comedy goldmine. Oooh! Imagine how awkward it would be if we were handcuffed together!"

She could imagine the scene in her head. It was even funnier to picture it with Scarecrow cuffed to someone a bit more modest or less field-savvy, like maybe a suburban housewife or -even funnier!- one of those ridiculous hoity-toity socialites he was so popular with.

"Too early for that. Or too late. I'm not even sure anymore. I'm gonna go do what I gotta do. Try not to script an entire film around it while I'm gone."

Too late. I already know how it would play out. He'd be too much of a gentleman to take advantage of the situation.

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They were both chilly and cramped from the hour or so they'd spent resting. The moon had set and the sky was beginning to lighten, but like the past two mornings, it was getting foggy.

Dorothy looked around, trying to see if she recognized any landmarks. Everything looked vaguely sinister in the thickening fog. Out of this world cool, but creepy. Under other circumstances, I'd dig the atmosphere. Not so groovy when I can't get my bearings. She wasn't positive her goosebumps were strictly from the chilly air. I am NOT dressed for this.

"Hey, how's that compass in your head working?" She herself had no idea which way was west, which would bring them to the stream and eventually back to camp.

"Well enough to get us to the cave, and maybe to the village from the other side, but not back to base. Not until the fog lifts."

It was the answer she expected but not the one she was hoping for. She was cold. She was tired. She was worried about the rest of the team. She was hungry, and being hungry made her irritable.

She didn't understand how some girls made a habit of skipping meals. She also didn't understand how some girls -okay specifically Glinda- couldn't run 10 kilometers without acting like they were dying.

Still, she hoped Glinda and the others had managed to get safely to The Wizard and the others in the village. She'd given the orders; she felt responsible for the outcome. She really hoped she hadn't sent them into a trap, but her gut feeling was that whomever set up the operation didn't know they'd established the second base in the apartment above a used book store.

She'd worked with Paul for far too long to be surprised at the extent of his personal network. The bookseller here, the very helpful doctor in Athens, the guy who guided them through the subway access tunnels in New York, oh! and the woman with that amazing little restaurant in the deep culinary wastelands of London.

She wasn't surprised, but she never figured out how he'd managed to meet and cultivate all these contacts. Guess that's part of what makes him The Wizard.

"Hey, you in there?" Apparently Scarecrow had been talking. "Whatcha thinking?"

"Just wondering if Paul knows anyone in town who could scare up a seven course breakfast at this hour. Aren't you starving?"

"I could use a bite. And some coffee, nice and hot. So do you want to try for the village, or go hole up in our burrow again until it's a little lighter out?"

"Let's check out the caves, see if we can determine whether they went that way. It should be a little warmer inside, at least."

They strapped the damp ammo carriers back on and reslung the A-Ks. Scarecrow draped the emergency blanket around her shoulders.

"Here. I've got the sweater. You take this. Just try not to crinkle too much. They'll hear us coming."

She wanted to say she was fine and didn't need it, but she was kind of glad he'd suggested it. It hadn't occurred to her, which she knew meant she was dangerously tired. Too bad SOMEBODY busted my lighter. A smoke would do wonders right now.

"Thanks. Always wanted a superhero cape."

"Anything for you, Wonder Woman."

"Wonder Woman doesn't have a cape, does she? Just that skimpy little outfit. She'd freeze her booty off."

"At least she'd have her invisible plane nearby."

"I'll keep my eyes peeled for it."

"You are kind of Wonder Woman, though, you know."

She thought he might be treading toward awkward waters, and she just wasn't awake enough for that. "Sure am. Just gotta get a little better with that Truth Lasso and stop accidentally inspiring confessions of true love from every guy I meet."

"Might want to work on that Modesty Lasso too, Glinda."

She had to laugh. Mission accomplished. These imaginary gold bracelets deflect more than bullets.

Sometimes she worried that maybe Scarecrow "liked her" liked her, but that casual retort reassured her that he actually liked her: as a person, friend, sister, teammate...all the good, uncomplicated ways to like someone. The way she liked him. And just maybe with a weird little bit of hero worship thrown in, but I guess I can live with that. Plus...he's not wrong. Maybe I do need to work on that modesty lasso.

He reached for her hand again and led them back toward the cave. It was light enough that maybe they didn't need to hold hands to stay together, but she appreciated it. It was one less thing to think about until she was functionally awake. She couldn't remember ever wanting coffee and a smoke more. And maybe some pancakes. With butter and syrup. Lots and lots of syrup.

She dutifully trudged along beside Scarecrow.