"S'flowing, don't worry," he assured me. He felt gingerly of his left shoulder, wincing and blowing a sharp breath between his lips several times.

"It's not dislocated," I told him - but he knew that. He would be shouting in pain if it was - nothing like a dislocated major joint to bring you face to face with white-hot agony, I thought. "But it's sure bruised," I added helpfully.

He shot me a look, "I know that, Kitty. The question is, will I be able to walk very far - and how soon."

"Walk?" I echoed blankly, then understood. "Oh, you mean when we leave here? I think we need to rest a couple of days before we tackle that little pleasure."

"Is there food for that? Water?"

I crossed my eyes at him, "Well, if ten million square feet of fresh snow outside isn't a lot of water-in-the-making, I'm not sure we have enough. As for food, the pantry is very well stocked. Don't these people take their shit with them when they leave for the winter?"

"Be glad they don't," was his answer, then he just leaned back against the piled up pillows and looked miserable.

"Hurt?"

"It doesn't tickle," he snapped. Then, "Sorry, don't mean to take it out on you, Kitty. Have you figured out what fell on me besides the Snows of Kilamanjaro?"

I had looked. "As near as I can tell, part of the eaves, a whole lot of frozen snow and some tree branches."

"Jeeze," came the response to that. "Well, it could be worse. . ." he added.

"Could be raining," I finished for him.

He flashed me a grin, "I was going to say 'the whole bloody roof might have fallen' but that will do as well."

I sighed, got up and pulled the blankets up to his middle, "Here, stay warm - it's pretty chilly in here. Don't need you getting sick on me as well - I'm not a doctor, y'know."

He put one of his large hands over mine where it rested on top of the covers. "Even so, you're doing pretty well, Kitty - thank you." He looked sincere so I responded in kind.

"You're very welcome." I pulled my hand from beneath his, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the sincerity and emotion in his voice. "I, erm, are you hungry?"

"I could eat," he allowed, looking amused at my discomfort.

She fixed me more soup, but this time it wasn't so hot it would take the lining of my esophagus off. And I ate it using my right hand since I wasn't that puny, and she ate as well. Obviously trying to drag my ass out of the bed had brought on her appetite. I thought about that. I briefly entertained the thought of trying to entice her into the bed, but had to laugh inwardly at myself - like my currently creaky body would be able to cash the check my libido wanted to write. "Bloody ridiculous," I muttered.

Kitty looked up from her soup, "Hmm?"

"Nothing," I assured her, but she must have seen something of what I'd been thinking in my expression. I must have a blasted open book on my forehead as far as this woman was concerned.

"You'd never be able to," she said flatly, then snorted a laugh at the thought of it and finished her soup. "Men," she added a few moments later, shaking her head and snickering.

"Give me a break, would ya?" I requested, "It was sheer boredom, I'm sure, not any great lust for your body."

"Bull," she commented and put her bowl and the saucepan I'd been eating out of into the sink. "You lust for me all right, you just won't admit it."

"And what makes you think that?" I did, but I was damned if I was going to tell her that. She didn't need any more ammunition to shoot me in the foot with, besides, I was doing really well with that myself.

"You're breathing, aren't you?"

I had to agree that I was.

"Then you lust - if not for me, for the nearest available body," was her smart-assed comeback. She sat down in one of the wooden chairs by the table and opened a dusty book from the little bookshelf beside the bed.

"I'm not that desperate," I claimed. "Besides, there aren't any 'nearest available' bodies except yours. And did you ever think I might lust for it because I happen to like the person inside it?" Did she truly think I was that shallow? Well, okay, I have to admit, there have been times I have been - hoist on my own petard yet again.

"What IS a petard, anyway? Remind me to look that up when we get back to civilization."

Kitty looked blankly at me, "Petard? What brought that up?"

I didn't bother explaining, opting to slide down a bit and get more comfortable instead. "I'm going to sleep now," I announced, and closed my eyes, hoping she would go away. Well - not go away precisely, but leave off long enough for me to forget about my mental picture of her naked in the bed with me and of me being smooth and seductive with her. That wasn't going to happen. Obviously.

A hand on my leg through the covers had me opening my eyes. She was leaning down, standing beside the bed with a saucy grin on her lips, "Let me in there, Crowe, maybe I can think of something."

I'm not stupid; I let her in. And she did think of something, although it wasn't precisely what I'd had in mind. She has a talented mouth when she's not skewering me with words, does Kitty. I could get to like her a hell of a lot. After, I slept like a baby.