Steelbeak watched her. "I'm sure dat's not true." Nor was what he said.

Tegwen glanced up at him. "When I went to pick these up, she could have put the chill on an icicle! It's warmer here than at her apartment -- and not because of her air conditioning."

"She's jest jealous," Steelbeak said confidently.

Tegwen laughed before she could stop herself. "Jealous? Of what?"

He grinned, all modesty vanishing. "Dat yer wit' me, of course!"

She snorted. "That's real cute." Slowly, Tegwen got to her knees. "Uh. . . Now what?"

"Lemme help ya up to yer feet."

Steelbeak gently took her arms, wrapping his fingers around them at her elbows and pulled her up, allowing her time to get used to being on her feet in the skates.

Tegwen wobbled and laughed. "You can see I'll need a lot of help!"

He might have gathered as much from the first time he'd watched her skate, but he hadn't the heart to remind her of that. So far he'd gotten really lucky that being where they were didn't refresh her memory.

Once she was upright and more-or-less stable, Steelbeak slowly released her. But Tegwen was clinging to him still, and hesitantly lifting her head to meet his eyes.

It was noon, then, but it was difficult to tell. Not only was the sky overcast, but the clouds were ominous, threatening to dump something -- rain, snow or some godawful combination -- all over Calisota. No, not dumping. It looked like it was preparing to bury Calisota alive.

Steelbeak realized they probably wouldn't have much time on the ice with a storm that looked downright livid. He also knew he could accomplish a lot in a brief time if they both concentrated on skating. That concept promptly flew out the proverbial window.

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