Martin had rented the cabin not long after hearing of their availability... all the patients under stress from the holidays and lectures of avoiding the typical fatty foods at gatherings had worn him right out, and he was feeling glad for the break ... especially since it didn't seem quite as strange and unfamiliar as Krajna Bostiev had been. He had stocked up the little pantry with a few essentials: makings for soup and French toast, coffee, tea - and of course, a nice bottle of scotch. He'd just gotten the fire up to a steady crackle and been about to put his feet up with a book when the knock came at the door.

"Who in the world ..." He set the bottle of scotch down and padded toward it, clearing the kitchen doorway just in time to see Alec open the door.

"Uh ... hellllll-lo." Martin's mouth remained pursed as he looked Alec over, a few flakes swirling in around his feet on the evening wind.