Snowstorm

Disclaimer: Alan Rickman and Rima Horton belong only to themselves and each other. I make no claim to either. No money was made, or is being made, from the following words. This was written for entertainment purposes only!

Elizabeth Michalson, Katherine and Thomas Jameson are the property of the author. Use with permission, please!

Summary: A young woman, Beth Michalson, after surviving a terrible tragedy, finds herself sharing a cabin with film and stage actor; Alan Rickman, (who's on holiday for a few weeks after wrapping up a recent film), during a feirce snowstorm.

Rated: NC-17 for adult situations.

Blurb: Just my luck, I thought, bitterly. I'm stuck with one of the world's sexiest actors during a snowstorm and it had to happen during the worst possible times. Poor Katie...and Tom....I couldn't stop thinking about them...nor blaming myself for what happened.

Snowstorm
By Ami E. Bowen

Part One


It had begun to snow about an hour ago. Fat, wet flakes drifting down from a pale, pale sky to slowly cover the foresty ground all around. I had stirred from the back seat of the car, the side of my head aching as I struggled to sit up and take stock of what had happened. Snippets of memory came at me instantly.

A Sunday drive up the mountain, the flash of some animal bounding across the road, the sound of squealing tires as the brakes were hit...spinning...so much...spinning...and the screaming...loud, piercing. I groaned and leaned over the front seat, realizing that the car had stopped at an angle, lodged between two pine trees near the base of the sloping mountain. That wasn't my first concern, however. I reached out to touch the face of the driver. Somehow I knew it would be cold.

His mouth was open in a silent cry of dismay. Hands gripping the steering wheel. Eyes wide with unseeing fear. Oh, God... I felt the panic rise like bitter gall in my throat. I tried to swallow it back. Oh, God...no... I turned my face away, not wanting to see...knowing there was nothing I could do.

I looked with trepidation towards the passenger's side of the car. I dared to hope that she would be all right. Oh, please, just let her have knocked herself out. Please! But, as I turned my head, I knew my hope was foolish at best. My sister's body was flung forward; her head had smashed through the windshield, spider-webbing the glass around her bloodied skull. Her arms hung flaccid at her sides and her face was turned sideways, a ghoulish expression plastered across her features. Her eyes, I noticed, were at least, blessedly, closed.

I had to get out of there. I knew it. There was nothing I could do for them. Nothing. The knowledge of that hit me like a ton of bricks and tightened my throat so that swallowing was the hardest thing in the world. I glanced at the unused safety belt and realized, with shock and regret, that none of us had been wearing ours. I knew that had we been, we would all have been still alive. It was a miracle that I survived! I choked back a sob as I worked the rear door, shoving and kicking at it until it gave and flung open.

The snow had begun to fall. I knew I had to find help soon. I would never survive out here alone, in nothing but a pair of tan shorts, sock-less sandals and a white tee shirt. I would freeze to death. Nothing was chillier than the mountains of Idaho at night. I bid a silent farewell to my younger sister, Katherine and her husband Thomas, and, the tears stinging behind my eyelids, stumbled from the smashed-up wreckage. I knew I had to keep my head on straight. I couldn't lose it. Not now. There was nothing I could do for Katie and Tom, but I had to preserve my own life.

I had wound my waist-length hair up into a bun on the top of my head at the beginning of our excursion. Now, it was mussed. The pins had come loose and hanks of the dark waves were tumbling haphazardly down my shoulders and back. I didn't care. I shoved it away and held onto the branches of trees as I picked my way, slowly, down the side of the embankment.

My foot caught on a hidden tree root and I was sent tumbling a few feet. I caught myself against a tree. Hard. And had the breath knocked out of me. I lay on the ground, panting for a moment, as the snow flurried down upon and around me. Picking myself up, my head rang and my eyes swam. I must have knocked my head harder than I'd first thought. I blinked downwards and was gladdened and relieved to see a small, amber light glowing in the distance. Someone's house.

Oh, Thank God! I pushed myself forward, slowly, painstakingly, my eyes never leaving the beautiful sight of that steady illumination. It took me nearly two hours to reach the small, charmingly quaint rustic cabin set near a rushing stream and several old oak and pine trees. I didn't know how I knew it had been that long...it just felt so.

For all I know, a mere half-hour may have only passed. I felt waves of nausea and vertigo threaten to overwhelm me as I finally fell the last few feet towards the door. I raised my arm to knock...to pound...upon the door...and I felt myself lurching forward, off-balance...a thundering whack against the side of my head and everything blackened.

Darkness...

So much of it...

Where was I?

The car...Katie...? Tom...No! Tom! Watch out...no...!

"...sleeping for about three hours now..." Someone was talking... I stirred, still half in and half out of my nightmares, "...seems to be all right but for a nasty bump on the head...I think she hit her head against the doorjamb outside...No, I didn't check for broken bones. I'll bring her in when the storm lets up..." Why did that voice sound so familiar? I tried to remember, but it was all I could do to remember my own name at the moment.

But, the dulcet tones were somewhat soothing. I hadn't opened my eyes yet and lay still, listening to the sounds around me. I heard the creak of the floorboards as someone walked, the click of a telephone receiver being cradled, somewhere water was tap-tap-tapping and the wind was howling like an animal in agony outside, flinging branches to scrape against the windows and across the roof. I realized, belatedly, that I was somewhere warm.

Somewhere...hopefully...safe. I was in a bed. The mattress beneath me was soft and yielding. A comforter had been thrown over me and tucked in around my shoulders. I could feet the satin border just beneath my chin. I slowly opened my eyes and tried to focus. I blinked a few times and wriggled my arms out from beneath the warmth of the covers to rub at my eyes. "Ah!You're awake."

I turned slightly, still unable to see much more than a few inches in front of my nose, at the blurred shape standing near the doorway, "How are you feeling?" I heard the distinctive London accent in his voice and wondered, again, where I'd heard it before.

"I..." I coughed and began again, "...W-what happened?"

"I was hoping that you'd be able to answer that," he said, and strode fully into the room. I noticed he carried a tray, which he set down near the side of the bed, "Can you sit up? I've brought you something..."

I did so, my head still pounding, and held my hands over my eyes, groaning in pain. "Here," I looked up through my fingers to see that he held something out for me, "I'm sorry... all I have are Tylenol. Hopefully it will help with the headache, though."

I took the proffered tablet and dry-swallowed it. It went down hard, passed the lump in my throat. What he'd brought me had been a cup of tea. Hot, strong and wonderful. I closed my eyes as I drank...wishing I could lose myself amid the swirling of the steam, just float away into nothingness.

I became aware of my host sitting down in a chair near the side of the bed. He was nearer to me, so I could make out his features a little better. Sandy hair a bit on the longish side, grayish about the temples and a little near the top. Thick brows, a face that, while not handsome in the traditional sense, still bore a striking bit of attractiveness.

He wore a cream-hued sweater over a pair of faded jeans. He sipped his own tea in silence, his eyes were downcast towards the cup he held and I noticed how well formed and graceful his hands and fingers were. It suddenly struck me, all at once, exactly who he was.

"Are you finished with that?" he asked, softly, and I flushed at having been caught staring. I nodded and handed over my cup. He took it and his fingers brushed mine accidentally. I sank back down against the pillow and sighed deeply. Just my luck, I thought, bitterly. I'm stuck with one of the world's sexiest actors during a snowstorm and it had to happen during the worst possible times.

Poor Katie...and Tom....I couldn't stop thinking about them...nor blaming myself for what had happened. If only I'd insisted on the seat belts. If only! "I'll let you alone to rest now," he said, picking up the tray and heading towards the doorway, "I'll take you into town...when the weather lets up..."

"Wait..." I whispered, suddenly afraid to be alone in a strange place, "Please...Don't leave me..."