“Yes?my friends?back there?hurry!”

Dylan didn?t bother disguising her sigh of relief as the rescue worker displaced her position at Johnson?s side and pulled out the automatic defibrillator he had in his duffel. Within a matter of a minute, he had the electrodes taped to the man?s still chest. A second later, he read off the rhythm, and a message which didn?t tell him anything he didn?t know already. A soft hum as the machine powered up, and he looked around, making sure no one was touching the patient.

“Stand clear,” ordered the defibrillator in a robotic voice. A second later, Johnson?s body jumped as the electrodes fired.

“Asystole. Check for pulse,” the machine then commented, letting them know the first try had failed. “Check for pulse.”

“Nothing,” the rescue worker replied, confirming the mechanical diagnosis. “Let?s try again.”

Another soft hum, another charge, and Johnson?s lifeless body jerked again.

“Houston,” the man said softly, “we have liftoff.”

The small group, hurting and tired and bedraggled as it was, brightened considerably.

“He?s not out of the woods yet,” the rescue worker cautioned, “but?you guys probably just saved his life.”

With that, he looked up and around, and his eyes widened, and he jumped to his feet quickly. “Aren?t you??”

Dylan nodded.

“And you?re?.”

Cat nodded, a little surprised that she?d been recognized.

The man?s face split into an enormous grin. “Wow. My wife?s gonna be so jealous when I tell her I met Dylan?.” His smile faded as a blush stole up his cheeks and ears. “Oh my god?I met Dylan Lambert!! I can?t believe it!!”

The sound of a throat being softly cleared broke the young man from his haze, and he looked back down at the team physician, who was still crouched at Johnson?s head.

His response was cut short by the helicopter?s pilot jogging into the clearing, bulging equipment bag slung over one broad shoulder. He nodded at them all, then knelt down by Johnson, assessing the downed man and talking quietly to his partner. Then he stood, looking the group over carefully.

“Ya?ll aren?t dressed for camping. How?d you get all the way up here?”

“Plane crashed,” Dylan succinctly stated.

“Isn?t that why you?re here?” Cat asked, puzzled.

The pilot shook his head. “No. We were following the SOS signal. We get ?em all the time from campers who get lost or stuck up here. Not a friendly place to be, if you get my meaning.”

“It?s not as if we had a choice.” Norton?s mildly chiding voice filtered up from the ground.

“We didn?t hear of any plane crashes in the vicinity.” The pilot was more than a little defensive.

“You?re more than welcome to check out the wreckage yourself, if you want,” Dylan offered, eyebrow raised as she leveled a challenging stare at the young, cocky man.

The pilot cleared his throat and broke off the stare, looking around the clearing, uncomfortable. “No, that?s alright. I believe you.”

“Lucky us,” was Norton?s dry reply.

“Well,” he said finally, once again in control, “I?m afraid we weren?t expecting quite so large a group.”

““salright,” Dylan drawled. “Get Johnson outta here. He needs it the most. Take the doc too, if you can. She can give you his history.”

“Horace Johnson? The electronics guy?”

“That?d be him.”

“We were on our way to LA for the game,” Cat interjected before doubling over with another coughing fit.

“Damn. I didn?t realize?. Was there anyone else in the plane?”

“Just the pilot,” Dylan replied. “He didn?t make it.”

“Shit. Okay, we can take him and?are you the doctor?”

Norton nodded.

“Okay, we can take you two over to Rocky Mountain Regional and then head back over here.” He looked up at Dylan, a bit disconcerted to find a woman towering over him. “Will?will you be alright here for a little longer?”

Dylan looked to Cat, who nodded, though she looked absolutely miserable.

“Got any blankets?” Dylan asked.

The pilot reached into his duffel. “Sure. Here.” He handed over two large, warm blankets, which Dylan and Cat took gratefully, wrapping them around their drenched and shivering bodies.

“What about her?” the younger medic asked, poking the unconscious secretary. “She hurt?”

“Tranked,” Dylan replied, a smirk twitching the corner of her mouth. “She?ll be okay with us.”

“If you say so,” the medic remarked.

“I do.”

“Alright then. Let?s get him wrapped up and stowed aboard.”

Moments later, the clearing was empty save for the unconscious bimbo and Dylan and Cat. “You doing alright?” Dylan asked, looking down on the bowed head before her.

Cat looked up and attempted a smile.

It wasn?t very successful.

“I?ll live.” Her eyes darted down to Dylan?s knee which was visible through a part in the blanket covering the tall, lean form. “How ?bout you?”

Dylan shrugged. “The same.” She allowed a small smile to form, opened the blanket, and spread out her arms. “C?mon, let?s share some body heat.”

Cat looked at her askance for a moment, then laughed. “We haven?t even had our first date yet!”

“Think of this as a pre-dating ritual. Snuggle together, keep warm, works for me.”

Cat laughed again. “Me too.” Stepping forward, she wrapped her blanket around them both from the inside, and Dylan wrapped hers around from the outside. The rather large disparity in their heights placed Cat?s cheek against a warm, soft nest, and she couldn?t resist snuggling in, breathing her first contented sigh of the adventure.

“Oh yeah,” she breathed, voice husky as she took in the warmth and scent surrounding her. “This definitely works.”

“No.”

“But, Ms. Lambert?.”

“I said ?no?.” Dylan sighed. “Look, just give me whatever papers I need to sign so that I can leave AMA and I?m outta your hair, alright?”

“Ms. Lambert, I wouldn?t recommend?.”

“Of course you wouldn?t. That?s why I?m not asking you to. Just give me the papers already. I?ve got a plane to catch.”

It had taken some doing, but she had finally convinced Mac, via cellphone, to book them on the earliest flight out to LA. Crash or no crash, she wasn?t about to miss the game.

And that gave her?she checked her watch?exactly one hour and forty five minutes to spring herself from this prison disguised as a hospital and head to the airport.

Drumming her fingers on the stretcher?s cold metal siderail, she glowered at the physician, who ignored her and fiddled with the X-rays hanging on the lighted board.

The door that separated Dylan?s small triage area from the rest whooshed open, and Kelly Norton strode through, sporting a cast from fingers to above her elbow colored a garish purple and black. “No comments from the peanut gallery,” she warned as she strode to Dylan?s stretcher. “How?s tricks?”

The orthopaedic surgeon who was trying to treat Dylan looked over at the doctor, eyes wide. “Kelly Norton?”

“That?s m?name.”

“Dear God! It?s an honor to meet you, Doctor. Your papers and lectures on the latest techniques in bone grafting were some of the best I?ve ever read on the subject!”

Norton smiled. “I?m glad you found them informative Doctor?.” Squinting, she peered at his name badge. “Planton.”

“Mike, please,” the young surgeon said, reaching out and grasping Norton?s uninjured hand between both of his own. “This is really an honor. I?ve been a fan of your work for years.”

“Um, yes?well?.” Norton cleared her throat, uncomfortable with the younger man?s blatant fawning. She looked over at Dylan, who gave her a wicked smirk. “How?s the knee?”

Dylan scowled. “Your friend there won?t let me out of here until he does an MRI, and radiology doesn?t open until tomorrow morning. If he can manage to fit me in tomorrow morning. Which is highly in doubt.”

Norton turned back to the doctor, eyebrow raised. The young man threw up his hands. “It?s standard medical practice. Her X-ray doesn?t reveal any damage, but with the work that?s been done on that knee already, I don?t feel that it?s medically advisable to take any chances. We need that MRI. There?s no way around it.”

“And her clinical exam?”

“Gross swelling and ecchymosis over the joint. No crepitus, and it seems stable enough, but I?m not comfortable at all with taking a chance based on my clinical exam alone. Not what that knee and what it?s already been through.”

Norton turned to Dylan. “He?s got a point, my friend.”

“I have my own points,” Dylan retorted. “Point one: We all have a flight to catch in exactly one and a half hours now. Point two: I don?t intend to miss that flight. Point three: If you don?t give me those papers to sign, I?m gonna get down off this stretcher right now, brace or no brace, and I?m gonna be real pissed off when I do.”

“I don?t think we wanna know what point four is,” Norton said dryly.

Dylan shot her a look.

Norton sighed. “Alright. Brace her up and release her to my care. I?ll make sure she gets that MRI right after the game tomorrow, if I have to trank her up to do it.” Lowering her face, she stared directly into Dylan?s flashing eyes. “And don?t think I won?t do exactly that, my friend. I?ve spent too much time and effort on that knee of yours and I?m not about to sit by and let you ruin it. Got me?”

After a moment, Dylan nodded. “Yeah, I got you.”

Norton shot a look at the staring doctor. “Well? Am I talking for my health here? What are you waiting for?”

“This is totally ill-advised, Doctor?.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know all about it. Just do what I ask, Doctor Planton. I?ll take all responsibility for the outcome.”

“But?.”

“Do it.”

“Once again, ladies and gentlemen, I?d like to thank you for choosing Amazon Airlines. Local Los Angeles time is 5:30am, local temperature is a balmy eighty three degrees. Please remain seated until the captain has pulled into the gate and turned off the fasten seatbelts sign. Please see the gate agent for any connecting flight information you might need. It was our pleasure to serve you and we hope to see you again on another Amazon Airlines flight real soon.”