A/N: Just a few-minute response because I just had too. :-) I can't get away from the sappy clichés these days -- I've stopped fighting it and am just rolling in it now, so be warned. :-)
He was always cold in Cascade in the winter, whether there was snow on the ground or just the ever-present rain coming down... the dampness seeped into his bones no matter how many layers of flannel he had on.
He tried not to let it get to him, tried not to let the question of why he was still here even form in his mind... but sometimes when the wind whipped through him as if he were standing out in a blizzard in nothing but swim trunks, he couldn't help but wonder.
But then Jim would give him that look, and he'd forget all about icy winds and the horrors of the Cascade winter, and the question would dissolve in the heat of the answer.
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