Feedback please...pretty please!  nicxf@softhome.net

Spoilers:  Very minor one for True Blue, Mac Daddy
Sequel/Series:  It stands way out there alone.

Disclaimer:  None of these people belong to me, they belong to
Alliance and whoever they merged with.

Summary:  It is winter.

Major thanks to Dr. Ruthless who gave me the idea - this is for her.
Thank you to Aries and Orithain for supreme beta.  Additional thanks
to Amy for keeping the OAT frenzy going.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Victor Mansfield was behind bars again.  This time it wasn't because
he got set up by his colleagues; this time he was being held hostage.
The Director had sent him to gather data on poachers, and he got
caught.  Strangely enough, these poachers weren't interested in fur or
animal pelts - they were interested in the skin of people.

He was pissed off when they found him in the woods two days ago, his
binoculars trained intently on the action in the former mining town.
He usually didn't let his guard down.  The serenity of being alone
without Mac to annoy him or Jackie irritating him relaxed him more
than he thought.  The whole day yesterday was spent cursing at
himself for being so stupid.  This morning, he reasoned with himself
that he couldn't blame himself for getting caught; there were motion
detectors everywhere.  The Director would understand...wouldn't she?

Now he was miserable; he knew what the poachers were going to do to
him.  They kept trying to feed him, to fatten him up, telling him to
drink lots of water to keep his skin hydrated.  He shivered and hoped
the Director sent someone to get him soon.

Vic could hear the wind howling outside; the very small, thick window
at the top of his cell afforded little light, but at least kept out the cold
of winter.  This building was old, at least 100 years.  It was an old
RCMP outpost, in the middle of a town, across from what used to be
the saloon.  The town was in northern Alberta and had been
abandoned many years ago, after the gold rush was over.  The
buildings were remarkably sound for being at the mercy of the
elements for so long.

He took a small sip of water, not wanting to please his captors.  He
didn't eat much either, various plates lay stacked in the corner, holding
untouched food.  Vic lay back on the cot, wishing he had a cigarette.
The craving came to him as soon as the bars slammed shut in front of
his face yesterday.  Memories of prison flooded his mind, hence the
craving.  All you did in prison was sit around and smoke.

Suddenly, he saw movement in the corner of his eye.  Slowly, he
turned his head to look at the person coming in the door.  He hoped it
wasn't more food, the items that he had tasted were pretty awful.  //I
must be hallucinating, that guy looks just like Mac...wait, it *is*
Mac.//

Vic suppressed a smile as he stood - he didn't want to look *too*
grateful.

"Veec-tor...in jail again?"  Mac was swinging the key to the door
around on one finger.

He hated it when he called him that.  "C'mon, Mac, let me out."

"That's it?  Just *let me out*, no, *hi, how are you Mac*?  No, *how
have you been, long time no see*?"

Vic sighed and frowned, feeling the anger boil up inside him.
"Just...just let me out of here."

"What's it worth to you?"

"Excuse me?"

"What's it worth to you to get out of there?"

"Worth?  What are you talking about?"  He knew damn well what Mac
meant but wondered just how far he would go.

"I'd say this was worth about 1,000; 2,500 bucks, at least."  Mac
smirked, he was just doing to Vic what Dobrinsky had done to him
that day when he needed him to watch that van.

Vic stared at Mac in disbelief.  "You...you want me to *pay* you to get
me out of here?  This is your *job*."

"I need a little extra spending money, and I don't think you're in any
position to argue."

Vic stood up to the bars, "No way am I paying you one cent."

"You don't want to be released? Fine with me, see you later, Vic."

As Mac turned to leave, Vic lunged forward, thrust his arm through
the bars and grasped the back of his collar.

"Don't you fucking leave me here, Ramsey!"

Mac stepped back as Vic pulled on the collar of his jacket.  He smiled,
he loved nothing more than to antagonize the former cop.  He wiped
the look off his face before turning around to see Vic's expression of
rage.

"You leave me here," Vic said.  "The Director will kill you."

"I'm not so sure about that Vic.  I mean, she's pretty ticked off that you
got caught."

Vic just frowned at him.

"I *did* come all the way up here to save your butt.  Now, are you
going to make it worth my while?"

Vic grabbed Mac's collar again, this time from the front.  He looked
the former thief in the eye, before saying very calmly and steadily,
"Fuck you."

Mac dropped his jaw in mock horror.  "You're swearing at me now?
That's it, I'm not letting you out..."  Mac drifted off and pressed the
earpiece he was wearing deeper into his ear.  His eyes grew wide, then
he frantically spoke into the part of the collar Vic wasn't holding on to.
"Wait, no!  You can't, you can't leave, I...he's still...but...what
blizzard?"

Mac then violently ripped the earpiece out and shouted, "Dammit!"
He pounded his hand against one of the bars of the cell, shaking it
afterwards, as he realized that punching steel hurt.

Vic snickered, "Who's swearing now?"

"Oh man..."

"What?  What's this about a blizzard?"

"They had to go, the weather was getting worse."

"What?  Who's they?"  Vic suddenly grew even angrier as he realized
what happened.  "That was our ride, wasn't it?"

Mac lowered his eyes to the floor.  "Something about a blizzard," Mac
shrugged.  "I don't know, high winds, the helicopter had to take off or
else crash."

"Helicopter?  You let our helicopter go?  So we're stuck here in the
middle of nowhere with no means of escape.  Thank you *very* much,
Ramsey."

"You don't have to yell at me."

"Yell at you?  I should be punching you!  If you would have just gotten
me out of here, like you were supposed to, instead of being such
a...such an asshole, we would be on our way home by now."

"Hey, you swore at me three times now, that's enough."

Vic pulled Mac forward, just short of banging his head on the bars.
"I'll do more than fucking swear at you."

"That's four."

Vic took a deep breath and tried to calm down.  He still had a
deathgrip on Mac's collar.  He didn't want to let go, lest he punch him
out.  He needed Mac to get him out of this cell.  He thought for a
minute before speaking.

"Look, Mac, when is the helicopter coming back?"

"Uh, it's not."

"What do you mean, it's not?"

"Well the blizzard is supposed to last a couple of days.  The cleaners
are going to, um, blow up the place soon."

"Blow what, the building the poachers are in?"

"Uh, no, the whole town."

"The whole..."  Vic laughed then sighed.  "So what you're saying is
that if we don't get out of here soon, we're gonna blow up real good?"

"Looks that way."

"Shit!"  Vic released his grasp on Mac, who straightened his jacket.
"Look.  When I was surveying the area, I noticed that the poachers
worked out of the old saloon across the street.  If we can get over there
and get to one of the snowmobiles parked around back, we can get out
of here before they blow the place sky high."

"But I don't know how to drive a snowmobile."

Vic suppressed his frustration by breathing in.  "I do."

"Do you even know where we are, Vic?  We're in the wilderness; a
snowmobile isn't going to get us far."

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do.  There's a cabin about 20 km south of
here, where I stayed the first night.  If we can get there, we can contact
the Director."

Mac thought about this for a minute, then smiled at Vic.  "You know,
what I said earlier, about the money, I was just joking.  You're not
going to hit me, are you?"

"Hmmm, we'll see about that.  Come on, let me out."

Mac licked his lips and cautiously opened the door.  Vic brushed past
him and stealthily went up the corridor to the front room.  The guard
was unconscious, a small needle, which had administered a
tranquilizing shot, poked into his neck.  Vic looked the man up and
down then turned to Mac.

"How much time do we got before this guy wakes up?"

"Half an hour."

"Good.  I'm going to take his snowsuit.  See if there's a parka for you
in the closet.  Check if there's helmets as well."

Mac went over to where Vic indicated and pulled out an olive drab
parka.  "There's three helmets in here, and this thing."  He sniffed it
and almost gagged.  "Yuck, it smells like mothballs."

"Well put it on, it's going to be cold out there."

"It's ugly."

"But it's warm."

"But it's ugly."

Vic stopped undressing the unconscious man, stood and looked at
Mac.  "This isn't a fashion show, if you freeze to death, don't blame
me.  Why didn't you wear something warmer?"

"I didn't want to look like a loser.  Or better yet, I didn't want to look
like you."

Vic ignored the remark and went back to work, taking the suit off of
the other man.  If he gauged his height right, it should just fit.  He slid
the black leather snowmobile suit on his frame easily.  He took the
leather gloves as well.

"Here," he threw the guard's boots to Mac, "these should fit.

"I am *not* wearing another man's footwear."

"Mac, you didn't give us much of a choice when you let the helicopter
leave without us."

"It wasn't me; it was the blizzard."

He looked over at Vic who was a vision in black leather from his suit,
to his boots, to his gloves.  It fit him perfectly, hugging every curve,
showing off his ass.  Mac had to admit his partner did look good.
Unfortunately, he was going to look like a homeless person if he put
that parka on.

"Whatever.  Look, wear what you want, but if you loose some
appendages to frost bite, don't blame me.  Now put a helmet on, and
let's go."

Reluctantly, Mac put on the parka and boots.  He didn't even want to
think about putting on the other man's toque and scarf.  He zipped up
the parka and plunked the helmet on his head.  At the last minute, he
grabbed the mitts off of the desk.

Silently, they crept across the street to the saloon.  The wind was
howling even more, blowing snow around to drift against the north-
west side of the buildings.  Vic was right, there were three
snowmobiles parked out back in a makeshift garage.  Vic checked the
fuel on each of them, taking the one with the most gasoline.  He
started it and told Mac to get on the back.

As they started to pull away, the poachers came out of the building,
guns blazing.  Mac turned and pulled his weapon, firing back at them.

Vic pressed down on the thumb accelerator, willing the machine to go
faster.  The two machines were gaining on them.  Finally, Mac took
them out one by one, leaving them alone to fend for themselves in the
cold.  About 10 minutes later, a light was seen and a large bang was
heard as the cleaners fulfilled their duty and blew up the town.

Mac listened to the drone of the engine as they sped down a frozen
river, holding on to the handgrip behind him.  Vic was right, it was
cold out here in the open.  His legs were getting sore from holding on,
so he put his arms around Vic, relaxing slightly.  He was shivering all
over; the wind cut right through his thin trousers and lashed his
exposed neck.  He thought his ears were going to fall off, even though
they were somewhat protected by the helmet.

Vic felt Mac slump against him and knew he was on his way to
hypothermia.  His own thumb was sore from pressing on the
accelerator, but he was warm with the leather, insulated suit.  "Just 15
more minutes, Mac," he whispered under his breath.

True to his word, 15 minutes later, they pulled up beside a small log
cabin.  Vic cut the engine and jumped off, then dragged Mac inside.
He slammed the door behind him, surprised that the small structure
still held some heat from two days ago.  He dumped Mac in one of the
chairs, then took his helmet off before lighting a kerosene lamp and
hanging it on a hook above his head.

He then turned his attention back to Mac.  Gently, he removed the
helmet, noticing Mac wore no toque or scarf.  His ears and cheeks
showed patches of white, indicating frostbite.  Vic shook his head,
then slapped him, gently.  "Mac...Mac, wake up."

"Hmmmm?"

"Wake up, we escaped.  Come on, you can't sleep, not until I get you
warmed up."  He took his pulse, it was slow but strong.  He shook the
younger agent, rousing him to consciousness.

"Why don't you just let me sleep?"

"Because, you'll die."  Vic sighed, "As much as I don't want to help
you, the Director would have my hide if you died.  Come on, sit up, I'll
get you some water."

Vic went over to the plastic, blue water jug and poured Mac a glass of
water.  "Drink this."

Mac took the glass from Victor and took a shaky sip.  "I'm so cold."

"I'm going to make a fire, hang on a minute, okay?"  Vic busied
himself, making a fire in the wood-burning stove.

Mac looked around at his surroundings.  His vision was a little fuzzy,
but he could make out a cupboard, a dresser, a bed and another chair.
There was no electricity.

Soon, the little cabin was getting warm.  Vic pulled the covers back off
the bed and brought the heavy comforter over to warm it by the fire.
Satisfied, he put the covers back on the bed and went back to Mac.

"Come on, let's get you into bed."

"I'm cold, Vic," Mac whimpered.

"I know, you'll get warm soon.  Let's get you out of those cold clothes."

"Shouldn't you put more clothes *on* me?"

"No, they hold the cold.  You have to strip down and get into bed to
get warm while your clothes warm by the fire."

Vic helped Mac strip, then got undressed himself before sliding into
bed beside him.

"Woah, what's going on here, Vic?"

"The only way to get you warm is to share body heat."

"Can't you just give me some hot rum or run a warm bath...if there
*is* a bath."

"No, that would put your system into shock; we have to warm your
body gradually."

Vic reached out and put his arms around Mac, bringing him close.  He
was freezing.

Mac tensed up and wrapped his own arms around himself.  Vic *did*
feel very warm.  Slowly, he relaxed and began to warm up, a sleepy
feeling coming over him.

Sometime later, Mac woke as he felt cold air hit his back; it was dark.
Vic had gotten out of bed to put another couple of logs on the fire.

Vic quickly stoked the fire then jumped back into bed.  The only bad
thing about using wood to heat the place was that you had to get up in
the middle of the night to put more fuel in the stove.  He heard Mac
shift beside him in the darkness.

"You awake?"

"Sort of."

"You hungry or thirsty?"

"No."

"Let me know if you need anything."

"Hmmmm."  Mac rolled over and snuggled against Victor.  He didn't
know why he did it, but it felt good.  A few minutes later, he could feel
Victor's strong arms come around him again and start caressing his
back.  Mac sighed and snuggled in closer, putting his head on Vic's
naked chest.

Victor could feel himself harden.  He tried everything he could not to
be aroused, but it was no good.  He would be fooling himself if he
denied his feelings for the other man.  Mac was beautiful, and he
wanted him.  As far as Vic could tell, Mac wasn't exactly holding his
arousal back either.  A hardness dug into his hip, and he could swear
that Mac was kissing his chest.

Mac very gently kissed Victor's chest.  He was warm now, incredibly
hot as a matter of fact, in more ways than one.  He let his hands travel
over Vic, feeling his hard muscles, his slight belly, the fine hair that
covered him.  Men were a delicacy as far as Mac was concerned, to be
enjoyed periodically but with a fierce hunger.

Slowly Mac dragged his fingers down Vic's belly to the hardness that
he hoped was there.  When he found what he was looking for, he let
out a happy sigh.  He let his hand come around the hard member and
held onto it for a minute to see what would happen.

Vic sucked in his breath as he felt Mac grasp his cock.  He let him
fondle it for awhile before pulling his head up for a kiss.  Their lips
met briefly, a mere peck to test the waters.

Mac rolled on top of Vic, kissing him harder, bringing moans from
him.  Slowly he ground their erections together, his hands coming up
to cup Vic's face.  His tongue entered the mouth before him, sweeping
the moist interior, teasing the tongue inside.

Vic dug his fingers into Mac's shoulders; the friction between their
erections was driving him insane.  He felt Mac grind against him,
sucking on his tongue, rubbing their nipples against each other.

Faster, Mac writhed against Victor, breathing heavily, sweat coating
his body.  For an instant, he was in pure bliss, the feelings
overwhelming him, until he came onto Victor's belly.  Vic wasn't far
behind, coming with a grunt as the fluid covered them both.  Mac
kissed Vic again, then rolled off of him, sated and ready to sleep.

Vic got out of bed and got a cloth to clean them up.  He put another
log on the fire while, then went back to bed.  He faced away from Mac,
their buttocks pressing together.  "There's your payment, Ramsey." he
said before falling asleep.

Morning came with a pounding on the door.

"Mac, Vic...are you in there?"

Both men sat up in bed and looked at each other.  "LiAnn," they both
said at once before scrambling to get dressed.  Vic reached the door
first, flinging it open, letting her inside.

"LiAnn, hey, you found us, great!"

"Yeah, the Director thought this would be the first place you'd go to.
The storm blew through quickly, so the helicopter got through after
all."  She looked at both men, "Are you guys okay?  You look flushed."

"We...we just woke up."

"Yeah," Mac interjected.  "We're just so happy to see you."  Mac strode
out the door to the waiting helicopter.

Vic checked that the fire was doused before going back to the bed and
making it.  He smirked as he looked down at the covers, remembering
last night.

"You ready to go?"  LiAnn asked.

"Yeah, I'm ready."  Victor picked up the leather snowmobile suit,
locked the door behind him and left.

The End
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