Page 42 of Cole

"And Cole?" Logan's voice held a note Cole wasn’t sure he recognized. "I know you're isolated together, but⁠—"

"I've got it under control." Cole interrupted, knowing it was at least partially a lie. He wasn’t insulted… his boss knew that Cole wouldn’t take advantage of the situation.

"Do you?" Logan didn't sound convinced. "Because quite a few of us have been exactly where you are right now. Thrown together with someone extraordinary during a dangerous situation. And every single one of us thought we could keep it professional."

Cole didn't have a response to that.

"Just... be careful," Logan said finally. "And I don't just mean with the mission."

After the call ended, Cole stood by the window for a long moment, watching snow fall through the darkening afternoon. It had been hard for him to think of anything but her.

Logan was right. Cole could feel himself getting attached, could feel the professional boundaries eroding with every hour he spent in Janice's presence.

But what the hell was he supposed to do about it? They were stuck here together, dependent on each other for safety and survival. Pretending he didn't notice her smile, didn't feel anything shift inside him when she laughed, didn't want to pull her close and kiss her until they both forgot about mining companies, contamination, and danger. That ship had sailed somewhere around the time he'd stood in the shower with her pressed against him, giving her trust over to him.

Janice stirred, lifting her head, her face adorably childlike as she blinked and looked around. "Did we fall asleep?"

"Apparently." Cole stretched carefully, trying not to disturb her too much. "It’s dark outside."

She checked her watch. "Almost five. We slept for a couple of hours."

"You hungry?" Cole asked, suddenly aware that they'd both been running on adrenaline and very little food all day.

Janice sat up, running a hand through her hair where it had come loose from her braid. "Starving, actually. I didn't realize it until you mentioned it."

"What do you have that we can work with?" Cole climbed off the bed and moved toward the kitchen area, glad for something practical to focus on besides the way she looked with sleep-mussed hair and a crease on her cheek from where it had pressed against his shoulder.

"Um..." Janice joined him, opening the small refrigerator. "I have sandwich stuff. Bread, deli meat, cheese. Some of those supplies you brought. Nothing fancy, but it'll fill us up."

"Perfect. I can work with that."

They moved around the tiny kitchen space with surprising ease, considering they'd only known each other for just over a day. Cole pulled out bread and condiments while Janice retrieved plates and napkins. She found a bag of chips and grinned as she held them up. "The good kind," she said, with almost childlike excitement, and set them on the counter.

"You want mayo or mustard?" Cole asked, assembling sandwiches with the efficiency of someone who'd made plenty of field meals.

"Both. I'm not picky when I'm this hungry."

He grinned. "A woman after my own heart." The words slipped out easily, and he couldn’t help but notice the way her lips curved upward.

They made hearty turkey-and-cheese sandwiches and ate them while standing at the counter. For several minutes, they chewed in comfortable silence.

"God, this is good," Janice said around a mouthful of sandwich. "I mean, it's just a sandwich, but it tastes amazing right now."

"Everything tastes better when you're exhausted and half frozen," Cole agreed. "I once ate an MRE in Afghanistan that I swear was the best meal of my life, just because I'd been awake for thirty-six hours straight."

"What's an MRE?"

"Meal, Ready-to-Eat. Military rations. They're... not great, under normal circumstances. But when you're that tired and hungry, they're five-star dining."

Janice laughed, and Cole felt that now-familiar warmth spread through his chest at the sound.

They finished eating and cleaned up together, falling into an easy rhythm of wash and dry, passing dishes back and forth. Cole found himself hyperaware of every accidental brush of hands and every time their shoulders bumped in the small space.

"Want some hot chocolate?" Janice asked, filling the kettle. "It’s just from a packet, but it's warm and will taste good."

"Sure."

While the water heated, he migrated to the sofa, and as soon as she had the mugs ready, she brought them over, handing one to him before settling into opposite corners. The cabin felt different now… still small, but more intimate. Or maybe it was just that Cole was more aware of Janice's presence, of the way she tucked her feet under her, of how the firelight played across her features.