Author's Notes: Thank you kindly to Akamine_chan for the beta.

I sigh in satisfaction and burrow down in my sleeping bag. There's nothing quite like well-deserved rest at the end of a day of travel and good, honest work.

Ray sighs too, but sharply and in irritation.

"Ray?"

"I'm cold," he mutters. "And yeah, I did walk around before going to bed, just like you said. But there was windchill."

I feel tempted, just like I have almost every night. Instead, I say, "Yes, there's a brisk wind tonight; I would estimate about nine meters per second, and since the temperature is -25 degrees Celsius, that would make for an equivalent temperature of -33 degrees Celsius."

"Yeah, that's so helpful to know." Ray is sitting up in his sleeping bag with his knees to his chest and radiating frustration. The lantern hung from the tent ceiling illuminates the stubble on his chin.

I turn to my other side and stroke Carla's head. Blissfully, she turns her belly up to be petted, quite unaware that she's a substitute.

"You're spoiling that dog." Ray is smiling despite the criticism inherent in his words.

"Well, she needs the reassurance. I shout directions at her all the time, since she's the lead dog, and she's a bit insecure."

"Why do you want an insecure lead dog? Aren't they supposed to be the dominant one?"

Carla butts at my arm with her nose in protest when I start to draw away, and I continue to pet her. "That's a common misconception. Primarily, you're looking for obedience in a lead dog, and if she's insecure, she'll check back with you to see what you want."

"Huh. Dief's not insecure, though, and he's my lead dog." Dief, down at my feet, huffs at the very suggestion.

"True. But Dief's a special case, I think."

"Yeah." Ray lies down on his side, pressing his back against me. I resist the idea for another few minutes, and then finally give it up. I'm not a saint, after all.

"Ray, if you like, we could zip our bags together. It would be warmer for you."

Ray turns his head quickly to look at me. "Yeah?"

"It's standard procedure," I say, although I don't mention that it's only standard procedure for actual hypothermia. In Ray's case, standard procedure would be to put on an extra sweater.

Zipping the bags together means a lot of awkward squirming around, nearly upsetting the lantern, but once we are done, Ray plasters himself around me like a second pair of long johns.

"God, you're warm," he says, snaking his hands in underneath my armpits. "We should've done this from the start."

"Perhaps," I say, feeling some guilt at the deception, but also thoroughly enjoying the sensation of having Ray all around me. Before long, though, I begin to pay for it--I hadn't anticipated that he would be quite so close as this, and keeping my arousal tamped down is not easy.

But after all, we are both tired, and soon fall asleep.

I wake in the night, and Ray is moving rhythmically against me. He's breathing into my ear, and I can feel the hardness of his erection against my hip. My first instinct is to pretend that I'm asleep, but then I realize that he's obviously asleep, and pretending will serve no purpose. I lie there, painfully hard, and wonder how it's possible to be so close and yet so far from having what you want.

Ray throws his leg over mine to gain more leverage, and then his hand comes searching, moving downwards over my body. I grab it before it reaches my groin. Waking him will be embarrassing for us both, but I can't let him do this. No doubt, I'm some blond woman in his dreams.

"Ray!" I hiss, and shake him a little.

"Uh?" he says in a deep, sleepy voice. "Fraser? We having sex?"

"Ah. Apparently so."

"Oh, thank god." Ray tugs his hand loose and goes straight for my erection. He squeezes it, and I throw common sense out the window, grabbing Ray and rolling him on top of me.

"Oof," he grunts in surprise, but then goes right on with moving his hips. He's large and warm and heavy, and his hard penis nudges mine in a maddening way with every thrust he makes. I spread my legs and grab his buttocks to pull him still closer.

"Mmm, nice," Ray murmurs into my neck, and then licks me. God, this is driving me crazy. I want his skin against mine, and I dig between us to try to unbutton my long johns and his. This is not an easy task, because Ray resists every move that doesn't immediately bring us closer together. In fact, he clings to me like a leech, and we roll back and forth in something that more resembles a wrestling match than sex.

Perhaps he is asleep after all, and is talking in his sleep. "Ray! Just let me..." I say in some frustration.

"Huh? Oh." Then he reaches down and grabs my erection through my half-open long johns. Startled, I lie absolutely still, breathing hard.

"Oh, god," I gasp as he strokes me firmly once, and again, and then I'm coming all over myself, and there's nothing at all that I can do to stop it.

"See?" Ray murmurs nonsensically. "I knew you would." He sounds almost smug, but in my sated, post-coital state, I don't care. Ray rolls on top again and grinds himself down, panting against my neck. Then his frantic body goes still, and he moans his way through orgasm. I can't see him at all in the darkness, only feel his warm weight and the wetness on my belly. The sounds he's making in my ear are enough to make me wish I could come all over again.

Then he slumps on top of me, twice as heavy as before.

"Ray?" I whisper.

"Mmmm," he hums, clearly down for the count. I purse my lips and set about trying to dry us with one of my spare shirts. Ray is limp and unhelpful, and I'm not very successful. Well, at least we won't be cold.

Ray is snoring very slightly in my ear, just a snuffling little sound every time he breathes in. The sharp edge of his hipbone digs into mine, and I feel a kind of helpless tenderness that I would never know how to express to him.

I wonder what on earth we're going to say to each other in the morning, but I fall asleep before I have time to worry about it.

***

The answer to my question of the previous night is, apparently, 'nothing'. For a moment I wonder if he just doesn't remember, but even if he doesn't, there's no way he can miss the smell and the fact that our long johns are in disarray.

Well. If he's not going to say anything, I'm certainly not going to, either.

We both start our accustomed morning chores; Ray cooking breakfast while I pack our things. Ray tends to shall we say, pack haphazardly, and I prefer my shirts not to be crammed randomly in with a sleeping bag.

"Here," Ray says, handing me a mug of steaming tea and a bowl of oatmeal. He doesn't quite meet my eyes. His eyelashes are dark against his sunburned cheek, and I feel again that sharp stab of tenderness.

"Thank you. I think the fuel flask on the stove needs pumping," I say, almost at random.

Ray huffs out a breath. "I know, okay? I was just getting to that."

I consider apologizing, but Ray has already turned around and is pumping the flask with more than sufficient force.

***

I call for a stop, and my team halts without protest, snatching up snow in their mouths to cool down. There's a frozen crust on the snow, but it won't bear the dogs' weight properly--they keep breaking through into the softer snow, and it's very tiring for them. Little Carla, in the lead, only occasionally breaks through, but the heavier wheel dogs fall through on every step. It's enough to make me wish for a snowmobile track to follow.

"Lunch?" Ray calls out behind me.

"Yeah, let's stop for a while. The dogs need some rest." I anchor the sled and release the dogs from their necklines, and they immediately begin to roll around in the snow, going as far as their tuglines will let them.

"Hard going," Ray says. "And it's not easy to help them along, because my foot just sinks down in the snow when I try to push."

I nod, and unpack our lunch while Ray digs a bench for us to sit on. In the familiar routine of daytime, I've almost convinced myself that last night was a dream. Almost.

Ray settles back with a sandwich in his hand and looks up at the blue sky. "It's nice with the sunny weather, anyway."

"I'm hoping it'll be clear and cold tonight, so we can get a better crust on the snow."

"Yeah, that'd be good. Hey, Max! Stop it!" Ray gets up and runs down to Max, who's chewing on his harness.

He comes up again, harness in hand. "Should've remembered to unharness him--he always does that when we're taking a break. No harm done, anyway."

I feel a quiet swell of pride in Ray and how well he's getting to know the dogs. You can judge the mettle of a man by how he treats his dogs, my father always said, and it's true. Of course, I already know that Ray is a good man.

It's quite warm in the sun, and I push the hood of my parka back and take off my gloves. The dogs are sprawled on their sides, soaking in the warmth, quite unlike the tight little circles they form when there's a cold wind.

Ray clears his throat. "Did we, you know..." he begins, and then trails off uncertainly.

"Ah," I say, feeling suddenly terrified. "Did we what?"

"Uh, nothing," Ray says. I glance at him quickly, and he's looking in the other direction.

***

The sun is near the horizon, but it will still be several hours before it's fully dark. We're travelling along a shallow valley. Perhaps...yes, it's worth trying. I stop the sled and take the shovel with me, digging down in the snow some ten meters from the sled. The snow turns to slush and at the bottom, there's clear cold water running.

"What are you doing?" Ray asks.

I look up with a wide smile on my face. "Water. We won't have to melt snow tonight."

"How'd you do that? I mean, how did you know where to look?" Ray looks impressed, and I feel an absurd glow of accomplishment.

"Well, streams usually run at the bottom of valleys, and also, you can see willow bushes sticking out of the snow here." I tug at one of them to demonstrate. "And there was a slight dip in the snow."

"Huh." I can see Ray filing away the information.

"Of course, this wouldn't work in the depth of winter, but it's getting on toward spring now," I add.

We save some considerable time by not having to melt snow for the dogs that evening, but all that means is that bedtime approaches faster. On a pretext of looking over the ganglines for worn spots, I wait for Ray to go to bed first and let him deal with the unresolved issue of our sleeping arrangements. I'm not particularly proud of my cowardice.

The tent is dim when I enter, but there's light enough to see that Ray has zipped our bags together again. He's lying as if asleep, but I doubt that he really is. Heart beating quickly, I strip down to my long johns and wriggle down next to him.

"Hey," Ray says in a low voice.

"Hey. Are you asleep?" I say inanely.

"No." I can hear the smile in his voice. We're touching along our legs, our hips, and my shoulder brushes his as I turn around and try to get comfortable in the close confines of the bag. Ray is warm and soft (except for his knees, ouch), and it doesn't seem like such a large step to put my hand on his chest.

"Are you cold tonight?"

"No. I'm not cold." His face is close to mine now, almost too close to focus on, even if it hadn't been dark.

"Okay." I can feel Ray's breath on my face, smelling of toothpaste. He's right there, and it's easier, somehow, when I don't need to say anything. There's only the smallest movement, and then our mouths come together tentatively. The tip of his tongue touches mine, and Ray makes a small sound in his throat. We both shift our bodies, yielding and adjusting until we fit together perfectly.

We break the kiss to breathe, only to begin again, deeper this time. Tonight, we both know what we're doing, and there can be no pretending in the morning.