| Title: "What if it's you?" Author: Vanasati Vanasati@aol.com Codes: K/S, TOS, AU Rating: NC-17 Summary: In this Universe it is Kirk who steps with Spock through to the ice-age of Sarpeidon... Notes: Part of the "Kirk/Spock Online Festival", located at http://www.kardasi.com/KSOF/stories.htm Author's Note: This is an AU story. I am aware that in the series they are supposed to be in Sarpeidon's ice age only for 3 1/2 hours, but in this A/U they are there for one day and one night. In time travel, one can be back "in time" in spite of it <g>. Disclaimer: Star Trek is the property of Paramount and Viacom. This is only amateur fan fiction, I make no money with it and mean no infringement on their rights. Thanks: I have to thank Kella for providing me with the lyrics of the song "What if it's you?" by Reba. Many thanks as always to T'Pat, my beta reader. Thank you so much for your efforts. And JS Cavalcante came to my rescue and did a very fast edit to fix my grammar and spelling. <hugs> Remaining errors are all mine. It's so cold. I don't know how long we've already been stumbling and stomping through the snow. The icy wind blows through our indoor-uniforms and I don't feel my feet anymore. Our movements have become slow and awkward. Spock stumbles and falls down next to me. I turn and see him on hands and knees, head bowed. I grab his upper arm. "Get up. Move," I stutter through chattering teeth. He doesn't. I shake him, hard. "Get up, s-science officer! That's an... o-order!" He looks up. His face is pale, puffy around the eyes, the lashes spiked with ice-crystals. His teeth are chattering as badly as mine and he's shivering violently. So do I. He's trying to concentrate, to focus on me. "J-Jim. W-where a-are w-we?" Gods. Hypothermia. His thinking's already affected. No wonder; his Vulcan physique can't adapt to these temperatures that are live threatening to me also. "I- don't know. We- have to m-move, find shelter." "S-so c-cold." I am down on my knees also. I lay my arms around him, start rubbing his back. I know that it won't help, but I have to try. "I know. Get up, please." I hear the desperation in my own voice. This is not right. Spock is so strong. He can't just give up now. He just can't. I look up and see a dark figure standing in front of us. "Please - we n-need help." The long silence makes me wonder if my universal translator isn't working, like our phasers. Then, finally the figure gestures for us to follow and moves away. "Wait! Come on, Spock, move!" I drag him up, put my arm around his waist and half-carry him on. He's so heavy. And I'm so tired. Why doesn't the other help me? Then the figure moves inside a cave, and I stumble after it. We make several turns, then we stand inside a small room, lit by a fire in the back. It's warm in here; I feel the warmth seeping through the icy coldness of my clothes. Spock collapses on the ground. I rub my hands, try to get some feeling back into them, then bend down and touch his cheek. Cold. He's freezing. Gods. I need to warm him up. "Lay him down on the bed. I have some furs to cover him." I turn to the warm voice and stare at a beautiful woman. She's clad only in sparse leather clothing, now that she's shed the fur cloak she'd worn outside. A shiver wracks my body and I remember Spock. I bend down to discover that he's lost conciousness. "Please, help me." I pull one of his arms around my shoulders and try to lift him. The woman is on his other side, and together we manage to carry him over and lay him down on the stony bench. It's already covered with some layers of fur and I assume that she normally sleeps here. I use a smaller piece of fur to dry Spock's hair, then I realize that his clothes are wet. The snow has melted in here. Damn. I have to get them off of him. The woman has come up behind me and she helps me without a word. We strip Spock down to his briefs, then I cover him with as many layers of fur as she can offer. I sit down next to him and stare at his pale face for a moment. "Hang on Spock. I just have to figure out what happened, then I'll get you out of here." I touch his cheek and flinch at the coldness of it. I shiver again. "You are cold, too." I look up and see the woman's concerned gaze on me. She's right of course. Now that Spock is taken care of, I become aware of my own shivering again. "Do you have more fur?" I ask weakly. "Yes. Come over here, to the fireplace." I follow her. I stiffly shed my clothes in front of the fireplace, then wrap the big fur she's offering me around myself. I am so tired. I try to comprehend what happened, how we got here, but I just can't think. I have to close my eyes. Only for one moment... *** A warm hand touches my cheek and I jerk awake. I stare at the beautiful woman who rescued us. She's smiling at me. "You look better. Are you still cold?" I shake my head. I feel a little stiff, but I'm quite warm now. Nevertheless I reach out and hold my hands in front of the flames. It feels good. "I am glad you are awake. Your friend is still sleeping." Spock! I jump up and promptly stumble and nearly fall down. The woman steadies me with a strong grip. Together we walk over to the bed and I sit down on the edge, anxciously studying my friend's face. Spock's eyes are closed and he's still pale. But his cheek feels warm to my touch - though still not the hot dryness that I'm used to - and he's not shaking anymore. Good. I look up at the kind face of the woman. "You've saved both our lives. Thank you." She bows her head. "You're welcome. Would you tell me your names?" "I'm being rude, sorry. My name's Jim Kirk. This is Spock." "Jim Kirk. Spock. I've never heard names like this. Where do you come from? Has Zor Khan send you through the portal?" "Zor Khan? The portal? No..." I frown, trying to remember. "We were in the library, talking to Mr. Atoz, and Spock was viewing one of the tapes. I heard a woman scream and - was that you? Did you scream?" "No. There is no library out there. This is the ice age of my planet. There is nothing but ice and snow, this cave, some animals - and me. I'm the only humanoid being here." I stare at her. Ice age? But... I shake myself. I'll have to talk about this with Spock. Later. When he's awake again. First things first. "What's your name?" "Zarabeth." "That's a beautiful name - for a beautiful woman." I smile and she actually blushes. "Thank you. Now - would you like something to eat?" "Yes please." We walk over to the fireplace again and she offers me water to drink and roasted meat to eat. I eat and drink, only now realizing how hungry I am. I drop a clean bone on the plate when I realize something else. "Do you have other things to eat? Bread, fruit, vegetables?" She shakes her head. "No. The wooden plate and weapons you see here are what Zor Khan gave me for supplies. You can't grow any plants in the snow. Meat is the only source of nourishment." Suddenly I'm not hungry anymore. "Spock won't eat meat. He's vegetarian." My throat feels tight. He'll need nourishment to recover from the hypothermia. But he'll probably refuse to eat animal flesh. Zarabeth sighs softly. "I'm sorry I can't help. He is different from you? He looks different." I nod. "Yes. I am human, he's a Vulcan." I see the confusion on her face and sigh. "It doesn't matter." I blink, then focus my mind on something else. "Tell me something about you. How did you come here?" She's telling me a long story about her family and some tyrant Zor Khan, who used a divice named "Atavachron" to bring her here. "Atavachron? What is that?" "A time portal, Captain." I turn, and there is Spock, awake and on his feet, but swaying, clutching at the fur around him with one hand while steadying himself with his other hand on the wall. "Spock!" In a rush I'm with him and guide him to sit with us next to the fire. Obviously he has heard part of her tale and now he turns to me, explaining. "I believe we came here through a time portal. The door we stepped through must have been connected to the tape viewer. Remember, I was watching a tape about the Sarpeidon ice age when we followed McCoy. And you were standing next to me." "So - Bones watched a different tape, and the woman screaming was in whatever time he viewed?" "Correct." "So when he stepped through, he was somewhere in Sarpeidon's past, and as we stepped through after him, we got stranded here." "That is the most logical explanation." "Then we have to go back to the portal. It must still be there and we can step through back to our time." "That isn't possible." We both turn to look at Zarabeth. Her eyes dart from Spock to me and back again. "People who pass through the portal are changed by the Atavachron, to adapt to the time they enter, in order to survive in the strange environment. No one can go back. If you did, you'd die." I gasp. The Enterprise, Bones, my life, lost? That can't be - I won't allow it. "Bones will take care of that once we're back. Will you help us find the portal? You can come with us; you don't need to stay here alone any longer." "No!" She visibly flinches. "I can't go back! I have been changed. I wouldn't fit anywhere else again. I would die!" For a moment we are silent. Then she says, "I'll try to help you find the portal. But first, you have to recover fully." She turns to Spock and offers him meat and water. He eyes the plate with a disgusted look on his face. Before he can decline the offer, I say, "She doesn't have anything else. This will have to do." Spock's hesitating. "Nothing else?" he whispers. Then, much to my astonishment, he takes a piece of meat and starts eating without any further argument. I'm stunnend. I expected stubborn refusal and I-am-Vulcan-I-can-go-several -days-without-eating, but not this. I watch him eat with mixed feelings. The cold must have affected him more than I thought. After the meal I notice the slight trembling of his hands and it's easy for me to convince him to go back to sleep. "You are right, Jim. I need the rest." With that, he stands up stiffly, and without protest lets me help him back to the bed, where I tuck him in after he's lain down. He closes his eyes and is soon asleep. I walk back to the fire. I'm tired too, and I lie down on the fur and roll up into a ball. Most strange. I've never heard Spock admitting so easily that he needs rest. Nor have I ever seen him acting so - I don't know. He should have argued with me over the meal - he should have insisted on returning to the portal now. Or is that my part? I feel strange, too. I try to remember why I shouldn't give in to sleep, but I'm just so tired. Oh hell... what difference will one hour make? *** When I wake up again, I hear soft voices talking in the other room. I walk over and find Spock and Zarabeth bent over a wooden structure, their heads so close together that they're nearly touching. "You made that yourself?" Spock's asking with curiosity in his voice. "Yes. This is most efficient for trapping the little animals. The're dead instantly and don't have to suffer." "I am impressed. You are most courageous, to handle life alone here as you do. Are all women of your race that strong?" "I think most would be if they had to. I certainly had no choice. I had to adapt or die." "You did adapt very well." They look at each other. I see that look grow into something and my insides start to itch. "Hey Spock, Zarabeth. You better, my friend?" I stroll into the room, smiling at Spock and Zarabeth. Spock looks up at me and for an odd moment I see anger in his eyes. But he quickly controls it and nods. "Yes. I am fine." Zarabeth smiles at me. "Would you like me to show you the cave now? There are hot springs in the back, they're creating the pleasant warmth in here. You could take a bath, if you like." "Yes, I'd like that very much." I smile at her and she raises and leads the way. Spock is right behind me. It's the first time since I've known my first officer that I'm disturbed by his presence. I avoid looking at him, but I feel that he's not pleased with my taking the initiative, my interrupting his conversation with Zarabeth. Well, I certainly didn't like the way they were sticking their heads together. I don't know why, but I just had to interrupt them. It's unsettling- and challenging at the same time. *** After the evening meal, I decide to take a bath. I know that Spock isn't particularly fond of "immersing himself in water" and so I ask Zarabeth to participate. But Zarabeth doesn't want to join me. "Feel free to use the spring any time you want," she offers with a smile, "Spock and I are going to make plans for a greenhouse. Isn't that a fascinating idea?" "Yes. Fascinating." I stand up and flee. I am furious and I don't even know why. I swear that Spock looked at me with triumph in his eyes. The hot water soothes my nerves somewhat. After soaking for over an hour, I've finally convinced myself that I agitated myself for nothing. Spock just isn't like that. He's my best friend. I too must've been affected by the cold more than I thought. I'm behaving like - a caveman. I chuckle to myself. Should go over and drag Zarabeth here by her hair. I shake my head in silent amusement and climb out of the water. I wrap the fur around myself and walk towards the front cave. As I enter, I stop dead in my tracks. My eyes go wide and I feel my blood turn to ice. Spock and Zarabeth stand in the middle of the cave, his arms around her, and he's smiling at her. A brilliant smile that I've only seen once on his face, after he discovered I wasn't dead. And now he's lifting her off her feet, carrying her over to the bench, laying her down carefully. "You are so beautiful," he says softly, "more beautiful than any woman I have ever seen." And he lies down next to her and they kiss. This is when the ice in my vains turns suddenly to fire. I race over to the bed and grab his shoulders, pulling him away from her. "What the hell do you think you're doing here?" I scream into his face. He's moving so fast that I'm pinned to the wall before I can react, his hand at my throat and my feet dangling in the air. "How dare you interfere?" he asks me through gritted teeth, and his voice is ice cold, while his gaze- I've seen that stare before, on the sands of Vulcan. I've seen him look at me like that before, with murder in his eyes. "Spock..." I croak, and in response his grip gets tighter around my throat. He stares at me, watches me struggle to loosen his grip, trying to breathe. I feel my eyes try to pop out of my head. My vision gets blurry. Suddenly he throws me at the wall and turns around. My hands are at my throat and I'm gasping for breath. When my vision returns I see him standing with his back to me, his body rigid, his hands clasped into fists at his side. I cough and he turns around. He still looks like he's ready to kill me if I make an unexpected move, and I freeze. My insides turn cold with fear. "You..." he says, his voice low, nearly a growl. "You have no shame in taking what you want, whom you want, and whenever you want. You take what you want without considering what it means to others." He's coming a step closer and I flinch. "All those women you take to your bed for a little pleasure. For some distraction, or 'in the line of duty'. You are unscrupulous, thinking with your cock; you bed even androids and Klingons." His voice is vicious now, and I tremble from the force of his anger. "Maybe you have stopped counting them, but I have not. I can tell you every single name." Still staring at me, his face now drained of all color, he starts a cruel singsong, and my eyes go wider and wider with each name. "Andrea, Janice Rand, Leonore Karidian, Areel Shaw, Ruth, Mea, Edith Keeler, Sylvia, Marlena Moreau, Janet Wallace, Drusilla, Nona, Shahna, Drea, Ann Mulhall, Elaan of Troyius, Miramanee, Miranda Jones, Mara, Deela, Odona, Vanna, Rayna..." He stops and for a moment all that can be heard is his heavy breathing - and mine. "Love!" he spits. "You always talk about love, but what do you really know about it? Nothing! You search for it in all the wrong places. That is why you cannot bear to see me having what you cannot have. You have to interfere as you did with Leila. Now Zarabeth is offering me what you can not and I..." His voice breaks. He's trembling visibly. "Spock," I whisper helplessly, horrified. He turns around and practically runs out of the cave. Slowly I turn my head to meet the gaze of Zarabeth. She's staring at me wide-eyed, her face drained of all color. Then she comes to me, slowly, as if to avoid frightening me. "Are you all right?" she asks quietly. "I don't know," I whisper hoarsely. "I thought you were friends." "So did I." I don't recognize my own voice. My throat hurts, not only from Spock's death grip, but from a big lump that is threatening to choke me. What the hell happened here? What's happening to me, to Spock? How could I lose control like that, acting like a jealous lunatic; how could Spock lose control like that? He's a Vulcan, for heaven's sake - and my best friend. The best friend I ever had - trying to kill me over a woman? I shake my head, trying to clear the cobwebs from it. All those names he threw at me - how does he know? He wasn't even there when I met Marlena in the mirror universe. Or Drusilla? He was at the prison with McCoy at the time, so how can he know? Slowly I stand up and stumble over to the fireplace. I sit down again and wrap myself in the fur. I accept some water from Zarabeth, then I curl up into a ball and close my eyes. *** Some time later, Spock comes back in. I open my eyes a bit to see him stumble to the bed and wrap himself in the furs. He's shaking with cold, having been outside to cool down his rage and obviously stayed too long. This thought permeates the fog in my head. How can Spock lose track of time? How can he act so foolishly? Something is wrong, so very wrong. I stand up and walk over to the bed. Cautiously, I sit down next to him, ready to flee in case he might again try to choke me. But he's just lying there, eyes shut, shaking silently. "Spock," I whisper. I dare not touch him, but I have to talk to him. "I never wanted to hurt you." He opens his eyes. He looks forlorn, and again I have a lump in my throat. I want so much to help him. "Spock. We have to get back. We have to find the portal. You can't survive here, it's too cold. And something's wrong, don't you feel that? You've never before lost control like that - I mean, not after your pon farr..." "Time travel," he whispers. "5,000 years into the past. We are de-evolving. My ancestors where cruel, passionate people. Meat eaters." He shudders and closes his eyes again. I turn to Zarabeth. "We have to find the portal." I know that I sound desperate, but I don't care. "Please!" She nods. "Tomorrow morning. It is dark, we wouldn't find the portal now." "Tomorrow morning then." Again she nods. She's biting her lower lip, then she lays a hand on my shoulder. "Stay with him." With that she turns around and goes to lie next to the fire. Cautiously, I crawl under the fur and spoon up behind Spock. He doesn't react. Maybe he's too cold. I skid a little closer and hold my breath. Still he's not reacting. But he's not moving away, either. I close my eyes and slowly release my breath. *** I wake, still draped around Spock's back, one arm over his waist. It is dark and quiet, the cave dimly lit by the glow from the burned-down fire. Spock's body is warm against mine. Why then do I ache inside so much? Memories of the harsh words that he spat at me tumble around in my head. I shift a little, and in response I feel Spock go rigid. He's awake. My heart starts beating madly and I've the sudden urge to flee. With difficulty, I restrain myself. I need to say something, apologize for my intruding into his space, but when I open my mouth I hear myself whisper the question that threatens my sanity for a reason I don't yet understand. "How did you know?" He doesn't even pretend not to know what I'm talking about. Marlena, Drusilla, Shahna and Odona. "I felt it." His voice is strained, and I'm terrified. "How?" He swallows. "Our melds. They have caused a link between our minds." God. I can't stay still any longer. I need to get away from him. I jump up and start pacing in front of him. He remains on the bench, hunched under the fur. But his eyes follow my every movement. His gaze on me and his... his mind inside me? All that time? "You were spying on me!" I nearly shout and he flinches. "You spied on me and you got it all wrong. I didn't just use them like you said; I loved Edith and Miramanee, I really did." Still my heart is trying to leap out of my chest and I wish that pressure in my throat would go away. "I know that I couldn't have stayed with them. I know that. So what's the difference with you and Leila - you couldn't have stayed with her. Or you and Zarabeth? You can't stay with her either. And you know that perfectly well." I stare accusingly at him. He meets my gaze, sadness and hurt in his eyes. "Yes. I know. But you could have let me love Zarabeth for the short amount of time we have. As I let you love Edith." "NO!" Now I do shout at him. "Why?" "Because..." I want to go over and strangle him, as he did with me yesterday. I can't bear to see him with anyone else, I can't bear to feel again what I felt when he and Leila... Oh God. The link. I felt all of it and I got mad; I couldn't bear to feel it again if he were to be with Zarabeth. Because... "... I'm jealous." I avert my eyes. When he answers, his voice is toneless. "Because you want her for yourself." "No," I whisper, "because I want you." Silence. I look up into a face that is full of wonder. "Me?" I swallow. "Yes. It's always been you." He doesn't move, only looks at me with big eyes, but inside I feel something touch me. I have to close my eyes and I concentrate on this touch. I can feel his thoughts touch mine, familiar, non-threatening, and I welcome him. Yes, Spock. You see? This is what you are to me. Then his arms are around my shoulders and I bury my face at his neck. "Jim," he says, and I shudder. "It's you, Spock," I repeat, my voice muffled against his neck, "only you." His arms tighten around me. I feel his body pressed full length against mine, radiating heat. I start kissing his neck, sucking the skin, licking an earlobe. He trembles against me. My lips find his, and he opens his mouth. Ah. We're kissing, and my knees go weak. In seconds I'm so hard it hurts. I push my straining erection against his answering hardness and his muffled groan nearly drives me over the edge. Hot hands squeeze my butt, my hands are in his hair, and still we're kissing, hungry, nearly violent kisses. A hot hand wraps around my cock and I break the kiss and throw my head back. "Spock... I can't... please." I'm shaking, don't know how to remain standing, and he knows. He lifts me off my feet and carries me back to the bench. He's laying me down and then he's all over me. Hot hands on my body, his mouth everywhere, kissing, sucking, nibbling. I thrash wildly, can't control the motion, god and then his mouth in on my cock, swallowing the whole length and I cry out and come and come. He licks the last drops from my softening penis, then he lays his head on my chest and puts his arms around me. I lie panting for a while before I can respond. Then I comb my hand through his hair in a slow caress, over and over. How long I've wanted to do this, to feel the heavy silk glide through my fingers. Then my hands caress the long back and the broad shoulders. His skin is hot and dry and soft. I inhale his scent, spicy and sweet, and I could burst with the happiness that's filling me. /t'hy'la/ his mind whispers, and I know then that we're still linked, that the link has grown stronger. /yes, love./ He moves his head and licks over my chest, over one nipple and I shudder. There is need; I feel my cock twitch again and I realize it's coming from him. /spock, let me../ We turn so that he's lying on his back and I'm snuggled between his legs. I admire his chest, the dark, soft curls that contrast to nicely with the light green skin. /beautiful/ I rub my cheek against the soft hair and kiss and lick his nipples, first one, then the other. He sighs softy, his hands in my hair, and I move down to the erect organ, dark green and begging for my touch. I wrap one hand around the base and start licking him thoroughly, swirling the tongue around the head and between the ridges. He gasps and his hands tighten in my hair. I smile around his cock, tease the tiny slit, and get another gasp in reward. I start sucking in earnest and I feel him arch his back. "Jim." His voice is rough as I've never heard it before and I want, I need to hear it again, hear my name spoken by that voice. I let go of him for a moment and nuzzle my nose against his pubic hair, inhaling his scent, rubbing my cheek against the soft steel of his cock. He moans and his hands grip my shoulders so hard it hurts. "Jim, please..." Yes. I take him into my mouth again, swallowing around him, deep-throating him, and I feel the pleasure building up inside him, and then his body goes rigid and hot liquid spurts down my throat, and I swallow it all to the last drop. Then I lay my head on the heaving chest and hold him until he stops trembling. "You," I whisper, "always you." *** I stand in front of Spock's cabin. McCoy has released us from sickbay two hours ago and now I'm finally here. I wanted to come here right away, but first Bones had to get some pressure off his chest after his encounter in the medieval prison, and then Scotty wanted to report about the condition of his beloved engines. After all, the Enterprise nearly got cought in a nova while waiting for us to return; I owed him my attention. Now I have to talk to Spock. I try not to think about the way he looked right after we returned through the portal, the Vulcan mask back in place, once more my immaculate, neat, correct first officer. I chime and wait for some seemingly endless seconds until I hear him respond. "Come." He sits on the floor in front of the firepot, dressed in his black meditation robe. I hesitate to come closer. "Sit down, Captain." I walk over and sit down opposite him. He looks at me, his face unreadable. I try to find the passionate lover in his eyes, but the flame flickers over his face and I see only its reflection in his dark gaze. For a horrible moment I think that it never happened, that I experienced some hypothermia- induced sex fantasy, and that I'm about to make a complete fool of myself. I shift and squirm until I sit next to him. Close enough to touch. I clear my throat. "Spock... did it really happen?" He nods. "Indeed. But that was 5,000 years in the past." My insides turn to ashes. I know I should say something, do something, but I'm numb. Slowly, carefully he lifts a hand and his fingers touch my cheek. And I feel. The silver thread that is our link is glowing, humming with the love that is flowing from him to me. He's pouring inside, gently pushing away the desperation, filling me. I find my voice again. "Do we have a future?" I whisper. "I do not know the future," he says. "And... the present?" "In the present I want you." I smile. The joy that fills me is as deep and complete as the desperation was only minutes ago. /t'hy'la/ his mind whispers. He's right. We don't know the future. But right now, he's everything to me and he's holding me, his arms around me, his thoughts entwined with mine. I feel his confidence in our growing bond, our feelings for each other, and it's giving me the strength I need to be confident too. "I love you," I say, and his eyes smile at me. "And I you." THE END KSOF Challenge: And I thought this song fits perfectly: What if it's you? by Reba I've got something to tell you What if it's you? If destiny calls and I miss my cue What if it's you? If I ever hold you, What if it's you, Oh, what'll I do, Some additional information: This is the full list of women Kirk had an affair with (I presume) with the name of the eps, in case you wonder: 10 What are little Girls made of? Andrea (Android) This is found useful information for what happens when someone gets Hypothermia and because we often have someone cold and another there to warm him/her up <g> I thought it might be of interest to someone else too: "Hypothermia (cold stress) is caused by abnormally low internal body temperature. It develops when body heat is lost to a cool or cold environment faster than it can be replaced. One can recognize hypothermia by stiff muscles, shivering, a puffy or swollen face, cold skin, signs of confusion, slowed breathing and heartrate, balance problems. One of the first changes brought on by hypothermia is a growing mental confusion, which becomes progressively worse as body temperature falls. Logical thinking becomes impossible and the person may become completely disoriented. Memory is affected and familiar things are often forgotten. To help, insulate the victim with available covering such as blankets, towels, pillows, scarves or newspapers. Some steps can worsen a victim's condition: Do not attempt to rewarm the victim at home. Hot baths, electric blankets, and hot water bottles can be dangerous. Do not give the victim any food or drink. If the victim is unconscious, do not raise the feet. This will cause blood from the legs to flow into the body "core" and further depress the body temperature. To help recover: Eat nutritious foods and exercise moderately; proper diet and physical conditioning help protect you against abnormal cold. Get proper rest; fatigue makes you more vulnerable to subnormal heat and cold. Drink adequate amounts of liquids, such as water. Limit your alcohol intake because alcohol speeds up body heat loss. Source: Special Report On Cold Stress (Hypothermia) And Heat Stress (posted by Hopkins Technology) from Bonnie Guiton Special Adviser to the President for Consumer Affairs and Director, U.S. Office of Consumer Affairs |