Fic: Winterlight, part 1; Cutter, Jenny, OCs; het; 15

[reggietate]

Title: Winterlight, part 1
Author: reggietate
Characters: Nick Cutter, Jenny Lewis, OCs
Genre: het, romance
Rating: 15
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: They're not mine (except the OCs), they belong to Impossible Pictures.
Summary: Nick and Jenny are taking the weekend away from the ARC in a country cottage in winter.

A/N: a festive tale for the festive season.

The windscreen wipers of the Hilux struggled to clear the driving snow from the windscreen long enough to maintain a reasonable view of the road ahead.

"Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea," Jenny said.

Cutter had been having similar thoughts himself, but they weren't related to the weather. This weekend away with Jenny, just the two of them in a rural cottage in winter had sounded idyllic when he'd first thought of the idea, but he was wondering if it might not put too much strain on their relationship just now. They were still getting used to the possibility that they might be a proper couple. He didn't want to torpedo his chances of something more permanent right at the start.

"It's kinda too late to turn back, now. We're almost there."

Except for themselves, the narrow road was empty of traffic, the land on either side thick with trees, some so tall that their branches met overhead to form a tunnel-like arch above them. Heavy snow had been falling for some time. The road surface was barely visible under its covering of white and there were no other tracks to guide them. He slowed the truck to a crawl, glad of four-wheel drive and rugged-terrain handling capabilities.

"I daren't stop," he elaborated. "We might get stuck in the drifts."

"Okay." She didn't force the issue. He doubted she was any keener to turn back than he was, really. Even at this speed, in another half hour at most they'd be at the cottage.

He attempted to lighten the mood. "Of course, once we arrive, you know we'll have to huddle together under the duvet while the place warms up."

"What a terrible hardship that will be," she said dryly.

"It's a small place - it'll soon be cos - what the hell was that!"

Suddenly and without any warning an animal shot out from the woods and across the road. Instinctively, and foolishly, trying to avoid hitting it, Cutter jammed on the brakes. Despite the four-wheel drive, he felt the back end of the truck slewing round in the loose snow, and steered into the skid. Thankfully their lowered speed meant that that they slid almost gracefully to a halt in the drifted snow at the edge of the road. The truck stalled.

"Stray dog?" Jenny said, looking a little shaken.

"Looked kinda big. Wolf-like, almost... Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

He rummaged in the side pocket of the door and pulled out his hand-held anomaly detector. He turned the device on. There had been no anomaly alert for some weeks, and the ARC would have let them know by mobile if they were needed, but Cutter never travelled without one, just in case.

"You don't think..."

Nothing showed on the screen. He shook himself. "Nah, my imagination's running away with me. Probably just a big German Shepherd lost out in the woods."

"Poor thing."

Dropping the hand-held AD into her lap, he started the truck's engine. He was about to back out into the road again when he saw a man in a hooded jacket come out of the woods. Rolling the window down, he stuck his head out. "Hello! Was that your dog just shot across the road? If so, he went thataway."

"Dog? No, friend, that wasn't my dog." What with the snow and the hood obscuring the guy's features, it was hard to tell his age, but something about the voice suggested someone younger than Cutter.

"That's kind of why we're off the road. Would you mind watching out while I reverse out of this snowdrift?"

"Are you on your way to the Manor?"

"Manor? No, we're - we have a cottage rented just up the road here. Maybe you know it? Wood's Edge Cottage? Not exactly the most original name, given where we are, but still..."

"Ah, yes. But be careful - the wolves are abroad in the Great Wood."

Was the guy pulling his leg? He sounded sincere enough. But there weren't any wild wolves in England. There had been some talk of reintroducing them to the Scottish Highlands in recent years, but so far nothing had come of it as far as he knew.

"Um, right, thanks," he said, deciding to humour the guy anyway, and gunned the truck backwards out of the drift. The stranger waved them on, wishing them the Season's greetings, and sight of him was soon lost amid the swirling snow.

"What was that about?" Jenny asked.

"I'm not too sure," said Cutter. "Country folk can be a bit odd at times."

They found their way to Wood's Edge without further mishap.

The cottage was a tiny, picturesque place with the trees at its back. From its odd shape, Cutter deduced that it was cruck-built, the framework of the roof and walls formed from pairs of curved timbers. The cottage almost seemed to be hunkered down against the snow and wind. It was scarcely one and bit stories high, two tiny dormer windows poking out of the snow-covered thatch, which reached down to within a few feet of the ground. Covered in snow as it was, it looked rather like an outsize mushroom.

He pulled the Hilux up close to the front of the cottage, and they grabbed their bags and hurried inside, Cutter unlocking the low-lintelled front door with the old-fashioned key he had been given.

"I think we might need candles - I can't find a light switch anywhere."

"Did you bring any?"

"No, but I expect there's some in the cupboards."

On the big square kitchen table stood what looked like an old-fashioned oil lamp. Jenny pointed to it in the torchlight. "Do you suppose that has any oil in it?"

"Well, let's give it a go. Matches?"

"Try the dresser."

"Nothing," he said, after opening all the drawers.

Jenny rummaged in her handbag, and finally came up with a book of matches. "I'm always acquiring these..."

"Great, just what we need," Cutter said, taking them from her hand. "You hold the torch steady while I light this."

After a couple of false starts he got the wick to catch, and replaced the glass shade. The soft yellow light the lamp gave out was sufficient to guide them to the living room, where three was a wood burning stove with the instructions on how to get it going taped to the side. Even unheated, the room was far less cold that might be expected on so snowy a night. Perhaps the thick walls and thatch helped to keep out the chill. It took them a while to get the woodburner going, but eventually, after rather a lot of swearing from Cutter, they had heat, and the prospect of hot water later on from the back boiler. They stowed their belongings, hung up their coats, and made themselves at home.

An hour or so later they were sitting comfortably on the plumply-upholstered sofa, feet to the woodburner, sipping glasses of malt from the bottle Cutter had brought along, after inner fortification with corned beef sandwiches, hard boiled eggs and vegetable soup. The little cottage parlour was glowing with warmth. The room had a low ceiling and uneven walls that were painted rather than papered. The floor was scrubbed floorboards, covered in brightly-coloured rag rugs, and there were dark oak beams above them. On one side of the fireplace was an old dresser with blue earthenware plates and meat dishes on display. One the other was a small long case clock, till ticking somnolently.

After the second glass of Scotch, Cutter said, "Um - there are two bedrooms, apparently. D'you want first choice?"

"Oh, don't be silly, Nick. Don't you want to sleep with me?"

"'Course I do," he mumbled, gazing into his drink as if all the wisdom of the world was contained there.

"Well, then."

He blushed. "Sorry. I'm an idiot."

"Not at all."

He leaned across and kissed her on the cheek. "Okay. We'll take the best bedroom, then."

"But not just yet." Jenny smiled at him. "I'd like to just sit here a while and enjoy us being together with no prospect of being interrupted by dangerous creatures from past or future."

"Except the wolves," he said, thinking of the man who'd spoken to him earlier on.

"I wonder what he meant..."

"Some kind of joke, I suppose. Odd, though."

"Very."

"Was the way he said it. Dead serious, like, but at the same time kind of off-hand. And why make a joke of that sort to a random stranger in the road?"

"Country folk are strange?"

"Where do you suppose this Manor he mentioned is?"

"If the snow lets up tomorrow we could go for a walk and find out, if you like. A winter's stroll in the snowy woods sounds quite romantic."

"Good idea. So long as it's not too cold."

"We can wrap up warmly."

"Aye, we can." Cutter put his empty glass down on the floor beside the sofa and slid his arm around Jenny's shoulders. She leaned towards him, and for a while they just cuddled without speaking, listening to the soft sound of the snowflakes against the windowpanes. Eventually, though, Jenny said,

"Do you want to go upstairs?"

"It'll be chilly."

"We'll warm each other up."

"That sounds good to me."

Upstairs was much colder, and the bathroom was tiny. Cutter let Jenny go first, while he searched the kitchen for something resembling a hot water bottle. Under the sink he was delighted to discover an old-fashioned stone hot water bottle of the sort his old granny had given him when he was a wee lad visiting her up in the Highlands. He filled it, wrapped it in a towel and carried it upstairs.

"What's that?" Jenny asked, emerging from the cubby-hole of a bathroom.

"Stone hottie. So at least our feet won't freeze. Stick in in the bed while I clean my teeth."

He hurried through his ablutions by candlelight, since they had not yet discovered a second lamp, and joined Jenny in the bedroom, where she was already under the duvet. Stripping to his teeshirt and pants, he put the candle on the window sill and slid in beside her, feet seeking the warmth of the bottle.

"It's a bit brass monkey in here," he said. Not quite cold enough to see their own breath in the air, but it was a near thing.

Tucked way up under the eaves, the room was charming in an olde-worlde, uneven floorboards and sloping ceiling kind of way. Even Cutter, who was not particularly tall, would have to be careful not to knock his head on the beams. The single window was deeply recessed, showing just how thick the walls of the cottage were.

"This place must be very old," said Jenny.

"Couple of hundred years at least," Cutter said, "according to the brochure."

"Oh, older, I'd say. Funny how it's stuck out here in the middle of nowhere."

"Yeah. I got the impression that it was nearer to the village. Oh, well, at least it'll be peaceful."

"I can live with that. Blow out the candle."

The bed was so close to the window that he could lean out and blow it without stretching very much. In the darkness they snuggled up together, but more in a let's-get-warm way than a let's-have-sex way. Not that Cutter would have objected to sex, but he was tired from the drive, and sleep seemed a very enticing option, especially when done with Jenny. Jenny, too, seemed content to wrap herself around him and do no more than play idley with his chest hair until they both dozed off. They had plenty of time.

He woke to slight confusion in the dim grey light of the morning filtering through the snow-covered window, and then remembered where he was. Beside him, Jenny was a spread of dark hair on the pillow. He pulled back the edge of the duvet.

"Morning, sleepy."

"Cheek," she mumbled, smiling faintly. "What's the time?"

"About eight. Fancy a cuppa in bed?"

"I think I'd rather have it in front of a roaring fire."

He got up, grabbed his clothes and hurried to the bathroom. He showered quickly and dressed, then went downstairs to the kitchen. There had to be some form of heating in the place besides the woodburner. If not, they'd be spending a lot of time in the living room, or wearing their overcoats. For now he settled for a thick pullover.

As he filled the kettle, he looked out of the window. The snow had stopped falling, and everything in sight was blanketed in whiteness. Cutter judged the snow must be several inches deep. Inconvenient for driving, but great for building snow people. He hadn't done that since he was a kid. Maybe he could persuade Jenny to join him in the garden. Cold as it was, he didn't want to just sit around the cottage. Living down south so long he missed the winter landscapes more common in his own country.

He got the fire going - there were logs aplenty as he soon discovered, stacked around the back of the cottage in a lean-to, so they'd not run out of wood to keep it burning, although it obviously took rather more tending than a radiator or gas fire. That was part of the charm of the place, he decided. Why go away to a charming little cottage like this if it was just going to be the same as the suburban house you came from? And it was only going to be for a few days. He called Jenny down for her tea and toast.

Surprisingly, it didn't take much persuasion to get Jenny outside, well-wrapped in coat and scarf, where they pelted each other with snowballs for half an hour like children, then rolled a snowball around until it reached boulder size. Then Cutter decided he fancied making a snow dinosaur, which went about as well as anyone might expect, reducing Jenny to tears of laughter that were like gleaming pearls on her glowing cheeks. Or at least, that was how he thought of them afterwards.

"That looks like a dinosaur, after Becker has gone after it with his Mossberg," she said, when she could speak again.

"Aye," he said, "it does look a bit sorry for itself." He kicked it apart and they built a regular snowman, instead. That turned out a little lopsided and less than pristine white, but Jenny declared it a success, which was good enough for Cutter. Impulsively, he swept her into his arms and kissed her heartily.

"Are you glad we came?"

"Definitely."

Afterwards, they pottered about in the kitchen, getting warm and dry again, and making lunch, while they discussed what to do with their afternoon.

"You fancy a walk up to find the village? I don't think it can be too far, and the snow's not really all that deep."

"Why not? Perhaps there's a village shop where I could buy a few postcards as souvenirs."

"Sounds good to me."

Swathed once again in her winter woollies, Jenny followed Cutter along the narrow sunken lane, snow creaking and scrunching underfoot. No cars had passed this way since the night before, and it was hard to tell the road from the pathway, so they kept close to the tangled hedge on top of the bank that ran along the edge of the fields, so as to avoid stepping into a foot-deep drift in the gutter. When they had walked almost twenty minutes without sight of the village, Cutter said, "Maybe we came the wrong way."

"I don't think so," she said. "Let's go another ten minutes and if we don't get anywhere we can always go back and try again in the other direction."

They walked another ten minutes, hand in hand. It wasn't often that she had the opportunity of such simple pleasures with Cutter, and really she was just happy to enjoy being with him without fear of interruptions from dinosaurs, and it didn't matter if they couldn't find the village. When he'd suggested this winter break, she'd jumped at the chance. Dancing around each other at the ARC was all very well, but she wanted a relationship that developed into something solid. Theirs might be - indeed, was - a dangerous job, but she'd rather risk the loss than never have the chance in the first place.

Cutter, typically, hadn't exactly been forthcoming on his feelings in the matter, but after some months she'd learned to read the signs, and she was fairly sure he felt much the same way as she did. Holding back was pointless when this might be all they had.

They were about to turn back when they came to a gap in the hedgebank, and a wide gateway flanked by tall brick gateposts, the moulded tops higher than Cutter's head. The gates themselves stood open, giving on to an imposing driveway that threaded between an avenue of trees, snow-covered now, and thence to an attractive timber-framed house. Carved into a stone set into one of the gateposts was WINTERLIGHT HALL.

"Must be the Manor that guy from last night mentioned," Cutter said. "Nice looking place."

"Bet it costs a fortune to heat, though," Jenny said.

"Horrendous council tax bill, too, I shouldn't wonder," he said, laughing.

Framed by the gateway, the house made such a pretty winter scene that Jenny took out her camera phone and snapped a picture. They started to walk on, but as they did, a voice said, "You found the Manor, then."

The speaker was a tall man in a dark hooded coat, who seemed to have appeared from nowhere, though of course he must had come from the grounds of Winterlight Hall.

"Oh! Hullo," said Cutter, sounding a little startled. "Yes, though we were really looking for the village."

"That is only a little further on."

"Ah. Thank you."

"You were not troubled by wolves in the night, I trust?"

"Um. No."

"Not so much as a puppy," Jenny added.

"They can be troublesome at this time of year."

Jenny wondered if they were being had in some elaborate way, but the man seemed perfectly serious. And why would you wind up two perfect strangers anyway?

Cutter said, "Perhaps we should introduce ourselves. I'm Nick Cutter, and this is my friend Jenny Lewis. We're down here for a few days holiday, but we didn't quite expect so much snow."

"Alfrick Rowan, at your service. I am honoured to meet you both." His solemnly old-fashioned manner was belied by the engaging smile which accompanied the words, and Jenny found herself warming to him. Yet there was something odd about him. Not threatening, just in some way a little strange that should couldn't quite put her finger on. "Why not come to the Manor tonight and join in the festivities? All are welcome at this time of the year."

"We don't exactly have the right sort of clothes," Cutter said.

"Oh, no one dresses for the festival. Such as you are wearing now will be perfectly suitable."

There seemed to be no way to refuse without being rude, and besides, Jenny was rather curious about the place. "We'd love to come," she said firmly, looking at Cutter as she spoke. He rolled his eyes, but made the best of things.

"The lady hath spoken. What time should we show up?"

"Eight o'clock."

"Anything we should bring?"

"Just yourselves. Good day to you."

"What a very strange man," Cutter said as they walked on towards the village. As Alfrick had promised, it was only a short distance further on and contained just the right sort of shop for Jenny to buy her postcards at, and a pub, where they decided to have lunch.

"We don't have to go tonight if you really don't want to. I know you're not exactly a party person."

"No, no, I'm intrigued now, and we must turn up if we've said we will. No harm in doing a bit of mingling with the gentry. Besides, it's bound to be more fun that watching the telly."

"I'm not sure the cottage has a telly," Jenny said.

"We can always make some excuse and leave after an hour or so if we have to."

They had a very pleasant pub lunch, with a couple of pints of the best local ale. The pub was more of a local than a tourist attraction, and all the better for it in Jenny's opinion. Nevertheless, they were glad of the roaring wood fire in the old-fashioned brick and slate fireplace, and the friendliness of the landlord and his wife. Eventually, as it was growing dark, they rolled home feeling very well fed and extremely mellow from the excellent beer. A light dusting of snow had begun to fall, but there was no wind, and Jenny held out her hand, trying to catch a perfect flake among those twirling down out of the dark sky.

"Kind of a shame the others are missing this," Cutter said.

"Anyone would think you were joined to the team at the hip," she said, laughing. "I'm sure they'll be happily getting on without you."

"No doubt. Feels a bit odd without them though. It's been a while since I went anywhere much alone with anyone. As a pair, I mean. Used to be it was Stephen and me who were pretty inseparable."

"Don't tell me you're jealous of Tom Ryan?"

"A bit, maybe," he said, smiling. "But only a bit. They're doing fine together, and good for them."

"And you have me."

"I do, don't I?"

"You sound extremely self-satisfied."

He threw his arm around her waist and hugged her. "For a very good reason. I'm extremely satisfied with you, my lovely Jenny Lewis. Stephen's a good man and I rate him highly, but you're most definitely my choice."

"I'm very glad to hear it."