Title: Snowed In
Fandom: DC Comics
Characters: Tim Drake/Tam Fox
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1014

Summary: For aravistarkheena's prompt "Tim Drake/Tam Fox; Bandages made from strips of old blanket"; I don't even know!





Really, Tam didn't know why it still surprised her when things like this happened. It was just her life these days. If her sister could see her now, she would never believe it. An empty cabin in the mountains in the middle of a snowstorm was not exactly a four-star hotel, but their options had been limited to 'find a cave and hope a bear isn't hibernating in it,' 'build an igloo,' 'sleep in a tree' (she hoped Tim had been joking about that) or 'break into the conveniently placed cabin.' I'll take door number three, Alex--hypothermia was definitely on the list of things Tam has never wanted to experience. It was so far off the list as to not be something she had ever worried about enough to think of putting on the list in the first place.

(She wasn't actually sure she had even had a list before she met Tim, but that was another story.)

So here they were in Tibet or Mongolia or East ColderThanFuckistan, in the middle of a freaking blizzard in some woods miles from civilization, freezing, cold, wet and bleeding. Or Tim was, again. Tim was always bleeding. (Okay, not always, but it sure felt that way sometimes.) Once they were inside, Tim had turned his attention to trying to build a fire in the fireplace, and then started trying to get his tech to work so he could send some sort of distress call and get them rescued. Or so she assumed. He could have been playing solitaire for all she knew, but he kept scowling and grumbling about reception, so she had a feeling he was trying to call in the Ninja Rescue Squad.

While Tim worked on building a fire and getting them rescued, Tam focused on important things. Like looking for food or a first aid kit or some clothes they could "borrow." Maybe someone up there would have pity on her, and she would find a pair of Ugg boots in her size in one of these cupboards or closets. Her luck was not that good, of course. The first one she looked in had nothing but mothballs and a can of... something. The label looked like it might be a picture of a tomato, but she didn't trust it enough to actually touch the can, never mind think about opening it.

In the next closet there was a pile of old blankets and a flat, yellow pillow. Tam wrinkled her nose, but pulled them out. If they were going to have to spend the night here when they were already cold and wet, even bedding that was old, disgusting, probably-used-by-ninjas-because-it-was-always-ninjas was better than no bedding.

Returning to Tim with her armload of smelly blankets, Tam frowned at the top of his head. "Any luck?"

He shook his head, scowling fiercely. "No. Between the location and the storm, I can't contact anyone. We're stuck," he ground out, gritting his teeth.

Tam sighed and nodded, sitting next to him on the floor. "I figured." She eyed him and reached over, tugging the cowl back off his head. "Take off your shirt."

He looked at her sharply, surprised out of his temper. "What?"

Tam rolled her eyes. For someone so smart, he could really be dense. "You're bleeding, Ninja Boy, and there's a distinct lack of band aids around here." She didn't wait for him to start arguing with her. She picked up the cleanest looking blanket and grabbed an edge, yanking and beginning to rip it into strips. "Besides, whenever we came inside from the snow, Dad made us change into dry clothes so we didn't get sick. The last thing we need is for you to bleed to death and get pneumonia on top of it."

She felt Tim watching her, and by the time she started ripping her fourth strip, Tim moved. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him begin to remove his suit. (No one could possibly blame her for paying just a little more attention to him than the blanket while he did that.) She moved to rip a fifth--wait, seventh? She didn't remember doing that--strip when Tim reached over and covered her hands with his.

Tam looked up to see him watching her with that tiny little smile of his. The one that on other people wasn't big enough to be a smile, but she knew him well enough by now to know this was as close as it got. It didn't happen very often, but whenever it did, she got a fluttery feeling in her stomach, and an urge to point and say 'I did that!' like when she was five years old and her drawing was chosen to be framed and put up in the school lobby. Now it was her turn to ask "What?"

Tim's tiny little smile grew into something more like a smirk and she recognized the look in his eyes. It was one of those looks that said 'I'm too smart for my own good and my brilliance is going to either get us killed or solve global warming.' "I don't want you to catch pneumonia either," he said, leaning over and kissing her, sliding a hand behind her neck and tangling his fingers in her hair.

Tam let out a surprised noise, muffled by his mouth against hers, but it quickly changed into a pleased moan as she relaxed into his arms. All right. So maybe being stuck with Tim in an abandoned cabin in the middle of nowhere with no way to contact anyone and no way to leave--or be interrupted--was not the worst way to spend a night.

When they broke apart, Tim began pressing kisses along her jaw and neck, and Tam was tempted to let him, but she reached out and took him by the shoulders. She pushed him back, smiling a little at the surprised look on his face. Tam held one of the blanket strips up between them. "Not happening until I know you're not going to bleed on me."