A/N – This is set sometime after Neela stopped rooming with Ray, could be anytime afterwards. I'm not sure of Ray's background, but gave him a mom and brother when he was a child. I guess it's sort of A/U as Brett's still around, Neela's driving a car and chose not to take the El. Don't ask why, it was more fun to write it this way.

He could hardly hear the pounding on his door over the thunder and wind. The storm, which had started 10 minutes ago, threw rain against the window and lit up the sky with lightening. Ray was beginning to doze off and had someone not rung the doorbell, might have been asleep.

"Who is it?" he bellowed outside.

"Open the door, Ray," came the reply. "Hurry up!" It was the very angry voice of his former roommate. He unlocked and then opened the door. Neela was standing on the other side, or at least a very wet version of her was. Her clothes were soggy and clung to her body. Her hair was soaked and hung limply around her face. She didn't seem to have an umbrella or jacket or any other type of protection against the weather.

"What the hell...?" Ray managed, as she stepped into his apartment. "You look like a drenched rat!"

"Quite the charmer," she nearly grunted at him. "Where's a towel? Get me something, would you?" Ray stepped into the nearby bathroom. He pulled out several towels and tossed one to her. She caught it and began wiping her face. He brought over another and draped it over her head. "My car broke down a few blocks away and I must have forgotten to charge my cell phone." She began to wrap her hair in the towel. "I figured I'd just walk on over here. It seemed like a good idea until about 5 minutes ago. What's with this storm, anyway?"

"You ever heard of the Weather Channel? They've been talking about this for days. And what even made you assume I'd be home on a Friday night?" Ray sounded a bit put out.

"I didn't assume! I still have the key, I just thought I'd use my manners first," she shot back at him. "Look, as you so nicely pointed out, I am drenched, and I am freezing. Be a gentleman here."

Ray sighed, relenting. "You know where the bathroom is," he said, gesturing down the hall. Put all your wet stuff in the sink. I'll go find something for you to put on. I'm sure you left a few things here." After a brief but successful search, he knocked on the bathroom door. She opened it a crack and he could tell she had started undressing. He handed the pile to her. "You could take a shower if you want," he offered.

"Thanks, but the idea of more water is not appealing right now. I'll just dry off and put these on." She closed the door quickly and he could hear her wring out some article of clothing into the sink.

"I'll be watching the weather channel." He could hear her snort.

"I can give you the forecast."

Ten minutes later he was in the kitchen when she emerged from the bathroom. Her hair was still damp, but no longer dripping and she was wearing his sweatshirt since he couldn't find anything similar of hers. He didn't think he'd ever seen her look cuter. "I've got milk on the stove for hot chocolate. Make sure it does scorch."

Scorch? she wondered to herself. Who ever says scorch these days? But she walked over to the stove as he went to his room, picked up a wooden spoon and gently stirred the warm milk for several minutes. She saw the two big mugs he must have gotten out, and a container of cocoa. A smile played at her lips. If he made hot chocolate at all, she would have assumed it would be hot water in the microwave and an instant mix. Ray could surprise her every now and then.

"That should be long enough," he said from behind her. She hadn't heard him return. "Go on and sit down," he told her. "I'll bring it to you." She went into the living room and picked up dark colored quilt lying over the back of the couch. She wrapped it around herself before sinking into the cushions. Even though she was now dry, she was still cold from the rain. A shiver ran through her small frame.

"This will warm you up," Ray said, noticing her shiver. He carefully sat down next to her on the couch and handed her a mug full of steaming cocoa, which she gratefully wrapped her hands around. She could feel the steam rising from it and blew lightly to cool the dark liquid.

"Where'd you learn to make this?"

"My mother. We had it every Christmas Eve growing up. A couple of other times each winter, too, I guess. Of course, it never got truly cold, but if my brother and I begged her enough, she'd usually give in. We loved it."

"I can see why. It's delicious. And warm. Two very good things right now." She took another drink and relaxed a bit more. "I am so cold."

"This is what happens when a cold front moves through the area," Ray began in his best weatherman voice. "Temperatures dropping into the thirties with gusting winds of 15 to 20 miles an hour. Rain falling at the rate of an inch an hour. Local flash flooding possible. Update at 10." Ray looked at the clock. "Which is just about now," he said, reaching for the remote. "What happened to your car, anyway?"

"I'm a doctor, not a mechanic," she replied tiredly, as she gulped her drink in an attempt to get warm. "It made a noise, I pulled over, the noise got louder, the noise and the engine stopped."

"And this is when you began your trek through the typhoon?"

"It wasn't a typhoon when I started, but yes." She drained her cup and set it on the coffee table. She shivered again and leaned back next to him.

Ray glanced down at his friend. She had walked through the storm for only a short time, but it was one heck of a storm. Not fit for man, nor beast, and certainly not for her. Safe and dry, and as bundled up as she was, she was still shivering slightly, and was obviously exhausted. He covered one of her hands, which was like ice, with his own. "You know, your bedroom is still…well, a bedroom. If you don't feel like braving the elements any more tonight you can crash here." He continued talking quickly to convince her. "Brett's pretty good with cars and stuff. I'm sure he would look at it tomorrow. "

"Really?" she asked, looking up at him with a hint of hope in her voice.

"Sure," he replied confidently and he felt her lean her head against his shoulder. "Brett won't mind."

"And you don't mind me…staying?"

"Nah," he said casually, thinking to himself Not one bit. "It will be like old times, huh?" He put his arm around her and she snuggled into him.

"You're warm," she said, relaxing against his chest and giving up any pretense of attempting to stay awake. In a few minutes her even breathing told him she was asleep. His fingertips reached the ends of her not-quite-dry hair and he gently tangled his fingers through it. A slow smile crept over his face as he thought about just how much he liked those old times.