Ice and Ash

"It was a long time ago." Cole turned back to the sink, his knuckles white where he gripped the edge of the counter. "But it's why I do what I do. Why I can't let scumbags like Kline's killer walk free."

Leo didn't know what to say. He'd pried, pushed, determined to get a rise out of Cole. Now he felt like an asshole. "I get it," he said finally. "More than you know."

Cole glanced at him over his shoulder. "Oh?"

Leo hesitated, then plunged ahead. "My dad was a cop. Killed in the line of duty when I was twelve. They never caught the guy who did it."

He'd never told anyone that before. Not his editor, not his few friends, not the handful of men he'd dated over the years. It was a wound he kept hidden, buried deep.

But something about this moment, about the raw honesty in Cole's eyes, made him want to share it. To show the agent he wasn't just some pain-in-the-ass journalist. He had his own scars. His own reasons for chasing the truth.

Cole turned to face him fully, his expression softening. "I'm sorry, Leo. That's... I know how much that hurts."

"It was a long time ago," Leo echoed, forcing a smile. "But yeah. It's why I do what I do. Why I can't let powerful men get away with murder."

They stood there for a long moment, the air between them charged with unspoken understanding. The wind howled outside, the storm raging on, but inside the cabin, something had shifted. A bridge had been built across the chasm of their defenses.

Cole cleared his throat, breaking the spell. "We should get some rest. It's going to be a long few days."

Leo nodded, suddenly exhausted. "Yeah. Okay."

He started for the bedroom, then paused. "Asher?"

"Hmm?" Cole looked up from wiping down the counter.

"Thanks. For telling me about your sister." Leo offered a small smile. "And for not being a total robot."

The corner of Cole's mouth twitched. "Don't mention it." His gaze lingered on Leo for a beat too long, something warm and unguarded flickering in his eyes. Then he looked away, busying himself with drying the counter. "Get some sleep, Vance. I'll take first watch."

Leo nodded and slipped into the bedroom, his mind reeling. He stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers and crawled under the covers, the sheets cold against his skin. Outside, the storm raged, but inside, a different kind of tension simmered.

He didn't know what was happening between him and Asher Cole. But he knew one thing for sure: the next few days were going to be very interesting.

The storm still raged when Leo woke hours later. He shuffled into the main room to find Asher adding logs to the fire. The agent's sweater rode up as he bent forward, revealing a strip of taut, golden skin above his waistband.

"Sleep okay?" Asher asked without turning.

Leo's mouth went dry. "Eventually. You?"

Asher straightened, wiping his hands on his jeans. "I don't sleep much." His eyes flicked over Leo's bare legs below his boxers. "Especially not in the middle of a manhunt."

"Right." Leo padded to the kitchenette, needing space between them. He filled the kettle, aware of Asher's gaze tracking his every move. "More of that terrible coffee?"

"Unless you've got a French press hidden in your luggage." Asher leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. The pose made his biceps strain against his sleeves.

Leo focused on measuring coffee grounds. "I should check in with my editor. Let him know I'm alive."

"Phones are still down," Asher said. "But I've got a satellite phone for emergencies."

Leo set the kettle on the burner. "This doesn't qualify?"

"Not yet." Asher pushed off the doorframe and moved closer. "Tell me about your dad. What was he like?"

The question caught Leo off guard. He hadn't thought about his father in years, not like this. "He was... solid," he said finally. "Honest to a fault. Always doing the right thing, even when it was hard."

"Sounds like a good man." Asher leaned against the counter beside him, their shoulders almost touching.

"He was." Leo stared at the brewing coffee, throat tight. "After he died, my mom just... shut down. I had to learn to take care of myself pretty fast."

Asher nodded slowly. "I get that. After my sister... my parents were never the same either. It's like the world loses its color for a while."

"Yeah," Leo said softly. "Yeah, it does." He looked up, caught by the understanding in Asher's eyes. The kettle whistled, shattering the moment. Leo turned off the burner, his hands trembling slightly. "Coffee's ready," he said, pouring two mugs. "Still terrible."

Asher took the mug he offered, their fingers brushing. "Told you, it's hot and caffeinated." He took a sip, his eyes never leaving Leo's. "Sometimes that's enough."

Leo's pulse quickened. He knew they were talking about more than coffee now. "Sometimes," he agreed. He held Asher's gaze, the air between them crackling with unspoken things.

The satellite phone on Asher's hip suddenly shrilled, shattering the moment. He jerked back, setting his mug down with a thud. "Cole," he barked into the receiver.

Leo watched as the agent's expression shifted from annoyance to alertness. "When?" Asher demanded. "You're sure?" He listened for a long moment, his jaw tight. "Fuck," he spat. "Okay. Keep me posted." He ended the call, his eyes meeting Leo's. "We've got a problem."

Leo's stomach dropped. "What kind of problem?"

"The killer." Asher crossed to the window, peering out at the swirling snow. "He's here."

"What?" Leo's blood ran cold. "How?"

"He must have followed us from the resort." Asher's voice was grim. "The storm covered his tracks. He's been waiting for his moment."

A sudden, earsplitting crash shook the cabin. The front window exploded inward in a shower of glass and splintered wood. Leo ducked instinctively, shielding his head as shards rained down around him.

"FBI!" Asher bellowed, drawing his gun. "Show yourself!"

A figure emerged from the blizzard, a ski mask pulled over his face, a rifle in his hands. He raised the weapon, aiming straight at Asher.

"No!" Leo lunged without thinking, tackling Asher to the ground as the shot rang out. The bullet whizzed over their heads, thunking into the wall behind them.

Asher rolled, pinning Leo beneath him, his body a shield. "Stay down," he growled, his breath hot against Leo's ear.

Another shot, this one splintering the floorboards beside them. Asher returned fire, the report deafening in the close quarters. Leo covered his ears, his heart hammering against his ribs.

The killer advanced, his boots crunching on broken glass. Asher fired again, again, the gun bucking in his hands. The killer staggered but kept coming, a juggernaut in the swirling snow.

"Fuck," Asher spat, his clip clicking empty. He scrambled for the spare magazine on his belt, his movements frantic.

Leo saw his chance. He grabbed a heavy log from the fireplace, waiting until the killer was almost on top of them. Then he swung with all his strength, aiming for the bastard's knees.

The killer howled, stumbling. Asher leapt to his feet, slamming a fresh magazine home. He fired once, twice, three times, the shots coming fast and furious.

The killer jerked, crimson blooming across his chest. He crashed to his knees, then fell face forward onto the glass-strewn floor. He didn't move again.

For a long moment, the only sounds were the wind and the ragged saw of Leo's breath. Then Asher was beside him, his hands rough as they checked him for injuries. "Are you hurt? Leo, look at me. Are you hit?"

Leo shook his head, his throat raw. "I'm okay. I'm okay." He looked at the dead man, the blood soaking into the floorboards. "He's really gone?"

"He's gone." Asher's voice was tight. He pulled Leo to his feet, his grip firm. "We need to move. There could be more of them."

Leo's legs trembled, but he nodded. "Where?"

"Anywhere but here." Asher steered him toward the door, glass crunching under their boots. "We'll take the SUV. Head for the ranger station."

Leo followed him out into the storm, the wind whipping at his clothes. The SUV was parked just outside, already half-buried in snow. Asher waded through the drifts, yanking open the passenger door.

"Get in," he ordered. "Stay low."

Leo clambered inside, his teeth chattering. Asher slid behind the wheel, jamming the key into the ignition. The engine coughed, sputtered, then roared to life. Asher threw it into gear, the tires spinning on the icy ground.

Leo huddled in the seat, his mind reeling. The dead man's face flashed behind his eyes – the flat, lifeless stare, the blood on the floor. He'd come so close. They'd both come so close.

Asher reached across the seat, his hand closing over Leo's. "Hey." His voice was low, fierce. "Stay with me, okay? We're not out of this yet."