"Mike! Quick, help!" Tim was talking before he even had the door open properly.
Looking up from the Christmas tree he was happily (and somewhat childishly) decorating on the screen of the laptop, Mike saw his brother half carrying someone through the door.
"What the hell?" Tim had gone out to the car for a jacket which, for reasons known only to Tim, he had neglected to bring in when they checked in. "Damn it, Tim." Mike batted at the papers blowing off the table in the bitter wind and quickly crossed the room to close the door and shut it out.
By the time he turned from the door, Tim was lowering the person, a young woman, onto the nearest bed.
As Tim tore the bed apart to wrap the covers around her, Mike realised two things: the woman's clothes, too light for the heavy weather, were wet; and it was his bed Tim was destroying. "You just had to wreck my bed, didn't you, Timmy?" Mike grouched as he assessed the situation.
The girl was obviously freezing, her skin ivory pale, lips blue, eyes closed. Violent shudders periodically wracked her body. She was still conscious, sort of, trying to help Tim but unable to coordinate her movements. "Where'd you find her?" Mike looked up at Tim as he began stripping off her thin coat and the sodden shirt beneath.
"She stumbled into the car park just as I got to the car. What are you doing?"
"Get undressed and get under the covers." Mike was now working on removing her shoes and jeans. "Mike!" Tim couldn't believe it.
"Tim, snap out of it. Those clothes are wet. She's beyond making her own body heat, if we don't warm her up, she'll die. There's no bath in here, she can't stand under the shower and there's no way we can drive in this weather. You got a better idea?"
Tim blinked, and then quickly began unbuttoning his shirt. Mike was right. Her skin was icily cold.
By the time Mike had her sodden clothes off; Tim was lying in the bed, clad only in his underwear. He gently took the woman, also only in bra and knickers, laying her against his chest, the cold making his skin jump.
Tim cuddled her close in the, thankfully, double bed. He smiled, remembering the glee with which Mike had claimed the bed as a right of the older brother, leaving Tim to the single. Guess he'd lost it now.
Mike was rummaging through his bag, obviously looking for something and muttering about never being able to find things when he needed them.
"Ha! Gotcha!" With an I-knew-this-would-come-in-handy-I'm-such-a-clever-boy look on his face, Mike approached the bed with possibly the ugliest beanie ever made. Stripes of colour in gay disregard to fashion, taste or possible eyesight damage: lime green, fire engine red, hi-lighter blue, screaming orange, lemon yellow and all topped off with a puce pompom on top. He put it on the shivering woman's head. Then moved to the air conditioner on the wall and turned it to maximum heat.
"Oh god, Mike, there's a plain black one in my bag." Tim's eyes were screwed against the glare of Mike's delightful headwear. Mike just grinned and headed into the bathroom to fill the kettle. "You just concentrate on warming her up, Timmy boy. I'll get something warm to drink happening. You've got some of that arty farty tea here somewhere, haven't you?"
***
Amy was cold. Deep inside where she lived, she was cold. For awhile it was all she was. She barely noticed the warm bare chest against hers, or the strong muscular arms holding her close. She was just cold.
When that man had taken hold of her and brought her inside, she knew she was safe, and stopped fighting the lethargy building within her. She let them undress her and put her to bed. She wasn't sure why, but she was so tired. It was just too much work to open her eyes, or try to speak.
She lay, not quite asleep, just accepting of her fate, hearing the byplay between the two men but not really listening. She was cold and she let her mind drift.
***
