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Linka coughed and leaned over, her hands on her knees, her breath deep and ragged. Behind her, Wheeler slammed the rattling doors of the barn closed, fumbling with the latch. The wind buffeted against the weather-beaten boards, which creaked and groaned at the strain.
"Man," Wheeler breathed, running his hands through his wet hair. "I'm soaked. Like we didn't already have enough to deal with."
Linka shook her head. "The rain is good," she said. "It will hide our tracks."
Wheeler sent a worried glance to the barn doors as he heard the distant barking of the dogs chasing them. "Hope so," he said. He glanced around the barn. The roof was roughly patched, with rain pouring down in isolated little waterfalls here and there. Scattered bundles of hay covered the dirt floor, and rusted farm machinery sat hulking and dusty in the corners. A scrawny cat with glowing eyes watched him quietly from the top of a pile of jumbled crates and boxes.
Linka wrung the rainwater from her hair, shivering slightly.
"What now?" Wheeler asked, slapping his jacket pocket so water squelched to the floor.
"We wait for the others to find us," Linka answered. She inspected the pins on her vest to make sure they were all still there before she shrugged out of it and gathered the hem of her t-shirt in her hands, wringing more water to the floor.
"That could take a while," Wheeler said doubtfully. "Especially if Plunder knows they're there."
Linka sighed, already feeling rather exasperated. "Well, then we will wait until the rain stops, and then we will try to find them," she said, raising her eyebrow slightly at him.
He grinned and shrugged. "That could also take a while," he said. "But okay. How about I start a fire so we can keep warm?"
"In a barn?" Linka asked scathingly.
"It's not going to be a huge wildfire," Wheeler said, kicking a pile of hay together with his foot. "But if you'd rather cuddle, I understand."
Linka muttered something under her breath, and he grinned.
He kept the fire small. From what he could tell as they'd hastened into the barn, it wasn't in sight of any other building, and from the looks of the interior, it had long since been abandoned. But he had no intention of drawing attention from anyone, and he had the same concerns as Linka: there was plenty to burn, and he only wanted to burn enough to stay warm.
Linka sank down beside the small blaze gratefully, pulling her hair from its ponytail and tousling her fingers through it.
"Have you heard from Ma-Ti?" Wheeler asked, finally turning his attention to his wet clothing. He kicked his shoes off and nudged them closer to the fire, praying they'd dry.
Linka shook her head. "I hope nothing has happened."
"Maybe they got the dogs set on them as well," Wheeler answered, glancing to the door again, unable to forget the snarling, growling beasts Plunder had sent after them.
"Maybe," Linka agreed, pulling her socks off and wringing them out. She draped them neatly across the toes of her sneakers, and sent a look of disapproval towards Wheeler's socks, which were crumpled carelessly on the floor.
Wheeler shrugged out of his jacket and stripped his wet t-shirt off without a second thought. "I hope they managed to get inside the warehouse, at least," he said, twisting the material in his hands so water ran over his wrists to the floor.
"Mm," Linka murmured, fixing her eyes on the fire and refusing to budge them.
"You should wring that out," Wheeler said, pointing to her shirt.
Linka spluttered. "You want me to take my shirt off?"
He grinned and shrugged. "I won't look."
"I do not believe you," she muttered. She crossed her arms over her chest and edged closer to the fire. Her hair had spiralled into thin ringlets around her shoulders.
Wheeler stretched out, propping himself up on his elbows with a sigh. "Want to play I Spy?" he asked.
A smile quirked at the corner of Linka's mouth. "Nyet, I do not think so." She shivered again and wrapped her arms around her knees.
"Seriously," he said, "I won't look. At least wring the water out of it. You're still dripping."
Linka looked down at herself. Her mouth pressed into a thin line, and when she looked at him again, her eyes were dangerously bright. "Turn around," she ordered.
Wheeler sighed and rolled over. Linka rolled her eyes when she saw dirty smudges from the floor across his back.
"If you look," she said, "I will blow you through the wall."
"I believe you," Wheeler answered, though he couldn't resist turning a little to look at her as he spoke.
"Wheeler!" Linka barked.
He raised his hand in defeat. "Okay, okay." He turned back to face the wall again.
Linka waited several long seconds before she moved, watching him closely. "Do not move," she ordered him.
"Mm," Wheeler answered. "Hurry up, babe, I'm cold all the way over here."
She peeled her wet t-shirt away from her skin, shivering as her back became exposed to the cold air. She twisted the material in her hands, wringing rainwater to the floor. She edged away from the puddle she'd created and shook her t-shirt out again. It was still damp, and now hopelessly wrinkled. She bit her lip and frowned, not really wanting to force the wet material back over her skin.
She looked at Wheeler's t-shirt, in a heap on the floor, and rolled her eyes again. After a moment she reached for his jacket. It was soaked across the shoulders, but the inner lining was still mostly dry, and it was heavier and warmer than her t-shirt would ever be. She shrugged into it and held it closed at the front with a tight fist.
"Okay, you can look now," she said, pulling her hair out of the collar so it draped across her shoulders again.
Wheeler grinned when he saw her. "I didn't say you could wear that," he said. "Suppose I make you take it off?"
"Try and make me," Linka challenged, but she smiled at him and tossed her t-shirt at him across the flickering fire. "Drape them over the end of the feeding crate behind you, Yankee. Your shirt will never dry if you leave it in a heap on the floor."
Wheeler obeyed, and dragged the crate closer to the fire. He rubbed his hands together and shivered slightly. "I hope the others are okay," he said, staring down into the flames. "If Plunder's got hold of them, we shouldn't be wasting time here."
Linka twisted a curl around her finger. "The dogs are still out there. I think they had tracking beacons on their collars. We do not want Plunder to find us, either, and he will if he sees the dogs are guarding something."
"So we sit tight for a bit? Until we know for sure the dogs are gone?"
Linka checked her watch. "It has only been an hour since we were detected on Plunder's property. Perhaps the others do not know we are missing, yet."
Wheeler sat another piece of busted old crate on top of the fire. It crackled and sparked as it caught alight, and a new wave of warmth flooded outwards. Linka breathed a sigh and edged a little closer, holding her bare toes toward the small flames.
He watched the light play over her toes and the delicate arches of her feet, before he let his eyes travel up the length of her bare legs, gleaming and pale by the light of the fire. His jacket was a heavy bulk around her, and he could see her white knuckles clenching the material closed at the front. He raised his eyes along the smooth length of her throat, her hair several shades darker in its wet state, curling gently around her shoulders.
He grinned when he saw her eyes, slightly unfocused but obviously watching the play of the firelight against his chest.
She saw him watching her and she reddened and looked back at the fire, pulling his jacket tight across her shoulders.
He sat up and edged closer to her; close enough so his arm brushed against the damp sleeve of his own jacket.
"So," he said. "You, me, a rain storm. Firelight..."
Linka muttered something that sounded distinctly like bozhe moy. Her cheeks were still flushed with embarrassment after being caught staring at Wheeler's chest.
Wheeler slung his arm around her shoulders and felt the familiar play of her muscles stiffening at his touch. "Kinda romantic," he said.
Linka sighed. "Wheeler, in case you had forgotten, we are still in the middle of a mission. A mission in which nothing has gone right so far -"
"That depends on your interpretation," he interrupted, and he stroked his finger along the hollow just behind her ear.
She jumped, and her eyes widened and he knew he'd touched a spot which she enjoyed having touched.
Which probably meant he was in trouble.
Linka looked up at him from beneath her frown. He was entirely too close for comfort, but she still felt flustered and embarrassed about being caught staring at him, and her reaction to the touch of his finger against her neck had only increased the fluttering in her stomach and the tingling feeling down her spine.
She reverted to what was comfortable: admonishment.
"We should be thinking of a plan to help the others, not playing games or being silly," she said, shoving him.
"I thought the plan was to sit here until it stopped raining, and then go back and find the others," Wheeler said, looking amused by her reaction. He kept his arm around her shoulders, her shove not being strong enough or determined enough to create much distance between them. "Maybe they're sitting in a barn somewhere waiting for the rain to stop as well."
"I bet they are not sitting like this," Linka said, raising her eyebrow at him in a slightly threatening sort of way.
"You never know," Wheeler said dismissively. "Kwame and Gi have got that quiet sexual tension thing going on -"
"Wheeler!" Linka yelped. Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed red anew, until she started to laugh. "You are impossible, Yankee! Get off me."
He grinned and daringly stroked his finger against the soft skin of her neck again. She squirmed and shoved him harder.
"Stop it," she said, though the smile on her face lingered.
He dropped his arm obediently, though left it curled loosely about her waist. She seemed to relax slightly, and he considered it a win.
"So, seriously, you don't want to play I Spy?" he asked.
Linka sighed. He felt her back expand and shift against his arm and he felt a new heat in his chest; something completely unrelated to the fire flickering in front of them.
"We could play something else," he whispered, ducking his head and pushing his mouth close to her ear so his breath was warm against her skin.
She shifted, her cheeks still pink from her earlier embarrassment and laughter. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, trying to decide how to react now.
Wheeler tightened his arm around her waist, drawing her to him, securely and firmly. There was nothing physical about her resistance, but her mind argued that no matter how fluttery and light-headed Wheeler made her feel, being this close to him was not a good idea.
"Ever played spin the bottle?" he asked, his voice low against the loud rush of rain against the roof of the barn.
Linka swallowed. "We do not have a bottle," she said. "And there are only two of us."
"So we can just cut out the middle man," Wheeler answered. "Get right to the good part."
Linka pulled in a quivery breath, and tightened her fingers against the front of Wheeler's jacket, pulling it against her skin.
She took too long trying to answer him. Not hearing a response, Wheeler leaned in and kissed her.
Linka stiffened immediately, her mind whirring and trying to dissect the situation quickly so it could tell her how to react. But no matter how hard she tried, she could not pull a coherent thought from the jumble they had suddenly become.
The backs of Wheeler's fingers brushed her cheek, and she felt his tongue move slowly against her lower lip. She opened her mouth slightly and heard her breath expel slowly through her nose as new blood rushed through her body, her nerves tingling in the tips of her fingers and the depths of her stomach.
He broke the kiss before she was ready, and she felt flustered as she realised she had leaned into him, following his withdrawing kiss.
He grinned at her, looking smug.
She sighed and pulled away, deciding to play straight. "There is no need to look so pleased with yourself," she said.
He immediately swept a look of gratitude onto his face, bowing his head submissively. "That better?" he asked.
"Idiot." Linka smiled and ran her hand through her hair, drawing a quivery breath. She listened to the rain pattering to the bare earth floor behind her.
Wheeler leaned in again and pressed his lips to her warm cheek. "You're pretty when you're trying to be moral," he said.
"Do not try to sugar-talk me, Yankee."
He chuckled and kissed lower, against the point of her jaw.
She tilted her head, but continued to argue. "What time is it?" she asked nervously. "Do you think the others have noticed us missing by now? Do you think there is a reason we have not heard from Ma-Ti?"
Wheeler pressed his lips gently against the soft skin just below her earlobe, and listened to her breath hitch in her throat. He didn't know the answers to any of her questions – he could perhaps guess, if she really wanted to know – but he suspected she was only talking because it felt like the most comfortable thing to do.
He kissed her mouth again, not intending to break this kiss so soon. He curled his hand into a fist when he felt Linka kissing him back, her mouth warm and open against his. This was better than he had ever imagined, better than he had ever dared hope it to be. He had often forced himself to imagine anti-climactic touches with her, trying to talk himself into holding back, that it wouldn't be worth the trouble it could possibly cause.
But this was good.
Linka sighed softly when the kiss broke, her lashes fluttering.
"This mission is going pretty well, huh?" Wheeler asked with a grin.
Linka smiled back at him before she turned back to the fire, wrapping her arms around her legs again. There was still a faint tinge of pink in her face, and she looked quietly pleased with herself.
Wheeler kept his arm around her, and when he pulled her a little closer, she looked up at him with a slightly-raised eyebrow.
"For warmth," he said, grinning at her.
"Perhaps you should put your shirt back on," she said, giving him a sweet smile.
"Or you could just give me back my jacket."
She clutched it closed at the front again, and he laughed.
Linka cleared her throat and ran her fingers over her lower lip, remembering the touch of Wheeler's mouth against hers. It had been surprisingly soft and gentle, and she could still feel the pull of it deep down in her stomach, like a warm swirl of butterflies.
"Sure you're warm enough now?" Wheeler asked. "I can probably get closer..."
Linka looked up at him beneath her lashes, giving him a coy smile. "I could be a little warmer, I suppose...?"
He seemed surprised that she was playing along, but he didn't hesitate. He kissed her again, and this time she felt more confident – she leaned into him eagerly, controlling her breath, and felt her chest tighten as Wheeler's hand cupped her cheek.
The rain continued to pour down. The packed earthen floor of the barn was becoming a mixture of mud and straw at the far end, and the wind continued to whistle through the gaps in the walls and the roof, scattering hay and causing the fire in front of Wheeler and Linka to flicker and sputter occasionally.
So close to the fire, their t-shirts dried quickly, and Linka soon insisted they get dressed again. Partly because no matter how nice it was to be shut in a barn kissing Wheeler, she knew they still had a job to do – and partly because she was hyper-aware of his bare chest.
"Turn around," she instructed Wheeler sternly. He obeyed, only daring to look again after she'd tossed his jacket back at him.
"It is still a little damp under the arms," Linka sighed, pulling at her shirt. "But it is not too bad."
Wheeler pulled his t-shirt over his head and spread his jacket over a nearby bale of hay. He leaned against it and held his arm out, hoping Linka would come back and curl against him again.
She hesitated for a long moment, but eventually sank against him, tense and nervous again.
"My jeans are still wet," Wheeler said after a moment.
"Keep your trousers on, Yankee."
He grinned and kissed the top of her head. "You know, being chased through the rain by a pack of savage dogs kind of worked out, didn't it?"
Linka bit her lip to keep herself from smiling. "Did it?"
"Uh-huh." Wheeler's fingers trailed down the back of her neck, and she shivered.
"Wheeler..."
"Sorry." He grinned, adding it to the short list he had of Things Linka Liked. "I won't do it again."
She made a small noise of disbelief in the back of her throat. She stretched her toes toward the fire again. "When do you think the rain will stop?" she asked, tilting her head up to him.
"No idea," he answered, brushing his mouth over hers. "I don't really care. I've decided I kinda like rainy days."