"I'm so sorry, George," Scout said, shivering violently in the cold.
"What? Why are you sorry?" George asked, surprised.
"I kept us out here because I wanted to keep playing, even though you knew we needed to stop, I made you stop and look for Jess, I wasn't holding the railing, even though you'd told me, over and over, that I should--"
"No," George interrupted her firmly. "Scout, no to all those things. Honestly," he said, giving her a stern look that would've been comical had their circumstances not been so dire. "This isn't your fault, Jesus Christ, woman, what are you thinking?"
"But George," Scout nearly wailed. "You almost died saving me, and now we're both stuck down here, and there's no way up, and it's going to be dark soon, and you're going to freeze to death, and I really am so, so sorry--" and she began to dissolve into tears.
"Sh, sh, don't cry," he tried to soothe her, patting her back. "First, are you hurt?"
She shook her head. "At least, I don't think so. There's a spot on my back--"
"Let me see," he said quietly.
She turned around, and he lifted her sweater and thin blouse. There was a shallow scrape on her pale skin, which was already turning red. He lowered her clothes.
"You're probably going to have quite a bruise," he said. "But you'll live, I suppose."
He gazed at their surroundings. "Now, we don't know that there's no way up, do we? Let's have a look, hm?"
They were on a small outcropping, a very narrow ledge, shaped like a V, flat, with steep sides, except for the small opening, which made it relatively safe for the moment. The biggest issues were going to be the temperature and the moisture. George tried to stand, and found he could, but even when he did, he could find no purchase for his hands, nothing to grab on to, no way to climb up. The rock was extremely slippery, too.
"Maybe I could stand on your shoulders?" Scout suggested, sniffing, wiping her reddened nose.
George stared at her as if she were crazy. "You're not going to stand on my shoulders," he said. "You'd just fall off, down there to your certain death. We're not in a James Bond film, Scout."
"I'm sorry," she said, stepping back. "I'm just trying to help. Obviously I know we're not in a fucking J-J-James B-Bond film, you d-d-d-d-dick!"
George took a deep breath, palming his already soaked hair back from his face, looking closely at her. He took in her huge eyes, her quivering chin, which was definitely caused by more than just the cold, the spots of color in her cheeks.
"No, darling, I'm sorry." He smoothed her hair back from her face, too. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm being a beast, an absolute wanker." He nodded. "Now, let's see if we can get out of here." He looked around the deepening twilight. "Though it's a hard no on you standing on my shoulders, all right?" he said to her with a smile.
They heard a bark, and looked up. Bandit was peering down over the ledge at them, looking very concerned.
"Could the dogs go for help?" Scout asked hopefully.
George considered. "They've never left the property before, I don't think they would," he finally said in a disappointed voice. "Probably the best we can hope for is that they'll alert Alfred and Sunil when they come tomorrow morning," he concluded. "I think we're stuck here for the night, Scout," he said. "Think we'll survive?"
Scout looked at him soberly. "George, this is no joke," she finally said. "It probably gets really cold out here, you know? We only have what we're wearing, and it's really wet. And windy." She took a deep breath.
George nodded. "I know. I know." He didn't think it was a good time to tell her about the nebulous shape he'd seen hovering over her. It really looked to George like that thing, whatever it was, had actually pushed Scout over the edge of the cliff.
They heard more barking, and this time saw both dogs looking anxiously down at them in the gloom. In spite of their circumstances, Scout smiled. George saw this, and it lifted his spirits. He reflected that, if he had to be stuck on a rocky outcropping in the wet and wind for the night, there were few people he'd rather be with than Scout Lawson.
"Well, we should get as comfortable as we can, I suppose?" he said, sitting with his back to the cliff. At first Scout protested that he took the bumpy part, but he insisted, saying that he had the broader back, so he should, that gender had nothing to do with it, and he finally wore her down, scooping her into the curve of his arm and pulling her close. She snuggled in, grateful for the warmth he provided, and they scooted as far into the corner as they could, to get behind the outcropping to cut the worst of the wind and spray.
Suddenly there was a scuffling from above them, and a small shower of rocks and dirt, and Bandit landed practically in their laps, looking very pleased with himself. He was very carefully holding Scout's water bottle, which he must have retrieved from her golf bag, in his mouth. It was misshapen, but his teeth hadn't pierced the plastic, and it was still more than half full.
"Bandit! There's a good fellow!" George praised his dog, grabbing him by the scruff. Bandit waved his tail to show that he did indeed know he was a good fellow.
"Bandit, thank you thank you thank you!" Scout murmured into his damp fur. Bandit licked Scout's face before settling across their feet. There was no question of him climbing back up.
Jess watched from above. She was older than Bandit, slightly more ungainly, and smart enough to know she couldn't make it down to them. She wouldn't have fit, anyway.
George and Scout split the water, though George tried to get her to drink more. He also tried to take off his windbreaker and make her wear it, though she wouldn't let him.
"You're shivering so hard you're practically convulsing," he finally said in concern. "You have no body fat, Scout, you'll go hypothermic if this continues much longer."
"You're not exactly covered in body fat, either, you know," Scout returned. "Please keep your clothes on, I'll be fine."
But Scout was really suffering, to the point that Bandit even raised his black and white head and looked at her, whining, and no amount of cuddling from George could keep her warm. He rubbed her arm and pulled her as close as he could, tucking her head into his neck, even letting his hand wander down to rub her hip, but nothing helped, and he could feel her teeth clicking. Eventually he lay down, pulling her with him, and Scout ended up sandwiched between George and Bandit, drawing heat from both of them to try to control her shivering. The cold rock was poking him in the back in myriad places, but at least they were out of the wind. He tucked his knees behind hers and wrapped his arms around Bandit, pulling the dog as close as he could, so Scout was as covered as he could make her, and even under these strange, horrible, dangerous circumstances, the smell of her honeysuckle hair was heady, enough to set him reeling with the nearness of her. Eventually, it did seem like her shivering was less violent.
"Better?" he whispered into her ear.
She nodded, grasping his hand with her cold fingers.
And he eventually became aware of the same problem he always had whenever he found himself lying down with Scout for any length of time, and Little George came to life between his legs. It was inevitable, really. He was pressed up against her lovely bottom, just inches from her gorgeous, slim hips, which framed what was probably the most beautiful sex in the entire world.
Fuck.
There was no way she didn't feel it, either. She was wide awake this time. And Little George was warm. Hot even.
Unbelievable. How could this be happening? George was beyond embarrassed. He tried to discreetly shift his hips away from Scout's body, but it felt so good, and Jesus, it had been so fucking long since he'd been like this with anyone.
"Scout?"
"Yes?"
"I'm, um, so, sorry about this--"
"George, it's okay--"
"No, no it's not. I mean, here we are, this is, like a serious, life or death situation, like we could actually die out here, and I'm behaving like some idiotic teenaged schoolboy, I mean, Jesus, you must be absolutely disgusted with me--"
And now Scout turned, even though the cold when she moved her body was so cold it made both of them suck air through their teeth. They could barely see each other in the darkness.
"Disgusted?" she repeated. "Why would I be disgusted?"
George took a deep breath, his embarrassment now complete. "Look. Most gay men find women and their bodies, especially in a sexual context, amusing, you know? But most gay women find men's bodies in a sexual context disgusting, that's all. I get that." He looked up at the sky, which was beginning to clear a little bit. "Oh god, this is just about the most humiliating moment anyone's ever experienced."
Scout rolled her eyes, which he saw. "Well, you're probably right, if you're talking about me." She looked around, and he heard her teeth click together when she swallowed. "I'm not gay, George."
Dead silence.
"I'm sorry, what?" he asked, and Scout was actually grateful for a split second that they were on a cliff in the pitch dark so they couldn't see each other's faces.
"I'm not gay," she repeated softly. She swallowed again, hugging her body tightly.
Oh fuck.
"Scout, I'm so, so sorry," George said gently, all thought of their strange circumstances forgotten.
"It's okay, George," Scout said.
He felt terrible. But elated, too.
He lay back down, holding his arm out so she could lie down under it, and for one moment, he was sure she wasn't going to, but then she did. She settled down, resting her head on his arm, snuggling into his warmth, pulling his arm around her. Bandit pushed into her from the front, and in this way, they passed the night, cold, but not freezing to death. Little George, thankfully, behaved, and didn't make a reappearance, and both of them actually did even sleep for an hour or so.
They woke up as the light was breaking and sat up, stiff and sore, and waited. Bandit and Jess barked at each other, as if they were actually speaking, then Jess took off, returning about an hour later with a shocked Alfred and Sunil in tow.
"Holy shit! That you down there, Mr. Wilder?" Sunil asked, eyes wide as he looked over the edge.
"And crikey, Miss Scout, you down there with him? You two fall, like?" Alfred asked rhetorically.
"Okay, I'm not going to answer that, if you don't mind," George responded drily. "Here's what we need, okay? One of you, please go back to the house and bring us something hot to drink in a flask, yeah? The other needs to grab one of my cars and drive to the village and bring back help, please. As quickly as possible."
Both boys stared at him, motionless, until he added, "Miss Scout's been out here all night, and she's quite uncomfortable, you two, please?" At which point both boys leapt up into the air as if they'd been electrocuted and came down in motion, presumably to do his bidding.
Scout and George looked at each other for a minute, then stepped into each other's arms and hugged each other. For a second, it seemed as though George was going to kiss her on the mouth, but at the last second he went for her cheek instead.