ds_flashfiction | Clean, by Rae

Now at least I can blame someone else. I was told to post early and often, so... ^__^

504 words of Bob and Buck working. These are not two characters I normally spend a lot of time thinking about, not focusing just on them so forgive me for bad characterization/lazy interpretation.

The temperature was only a few dozen degrees below zero. The storm which had raged for two weeks had finally died and in the aftermath, the wind was quiet, making the wind chill a factor of only a few degrees.

Bob drew in a deep breath, his hands on his hips as he surveyed the land. This good weather would hold for a day or so more, before they would be forced to contend with another blizzard. Animals to hunt were scarce at the moment, making field rations all the more precious, but Bob had seen signs earlier that morning of some small game and he would spend the first part of evening tracking it down.

"A good day," Buck said, saying in those few words exactly what Bob had been thinking. Bob turned and nodded at his partner, before moving out of the doorway so Buck could escape the warming confines of the cabin. "I didn't unpack the soap; the river is frozen."

"Soap is too good for him anyway," Bob said, eyeing the third man to share their cabin. A criminal, a poacher, which explained the decline in the populations so early in the season. The man was naked, his hands tied in front of him with a lanyard. His body was filthy, covered in the remains of the animals he had killed. "Come along, you. I said not to run. A Mountie always gets his man, I told you."

"It's freezing cold!" the man objected loudly. He was already shivering, bumps raised all along his flesh as a light breeze blew in through the door.

Bob shook his head, disappointed in the mettle of the common criminal. "Just come along, son. We'll get you cleaned up in the snow and then you can sit back in front of the fire." The man wasn't moving forward on his own, however, and Bob was forced to step forward and assist the man outside and into the snow. Together, he and Buck rubbed the man down with the snow, over his protests, doing the job which needed to be done. When they'd gotten much of the mess rubbed off, Buck escorted him back inside and he and Bob cleaned themselves in a fresh patch of snow before calling it good and going inside as well.

Their prisoner sat huddled on a blanket in front of the fire, his body convulsing in massive shivers. Bob and Buck shared a look, shaking their heads, as they dressed once again. Buck stayed barefoot and tended to things in the cabin while Bob layered himself in his outdoor gear and picked up his rifle. "I'll keep the home fires burning," Buck said, snapping off a short salute.

Bob nodded and left, exiting back into the cold domain of snow. Covering up the snow where they'd washed off was quick work, just enough to hopefully hide the scent of blood from other predators until the next snowfall buried it all and wiped the surface of the land clean again.