A short story based on characters created by Dick Clair and Jenna McMahon.

DISCLAIMER: The characters described herein are the property of Columbia Pictures Television. This is a work of fan fiction and there is no intention to profit from the use of these characters.

TIMELINE: Season Seven. Jo and Blair are juniors at Langley. Natalie is out of school. Tootie is a senior at Eastland.

RATING: PG13. Adult themes and violence.

CREDITS: Thanks to Blair n' Jo Rock for the idea that set this in motion.

BLACK DIAMOND

by Devon King

Baker saw the harness touch the surface of the mountain. "Touchdown. We're down, we're down, over" he relayed to Malone.

"Roger, that," she responded. The pilot eyed her altitude gauge suspiciously. Got to keep it high, she thought. The lieutenant smoothly raised the collective and adjusted the speed, the main rotors whirring faster as the craft rose fluidly.

Aaron braced his feet and leaned into his harness, trusting it to hold him fast as he angled himself outside the craft to better see the slope below. He punched the stop button on the winch after deploying an extra length of cable. The aircraft lifted even higher, taking up some of the slack.

"Good! We're green all the way," shouted Baker. He could see Blair on the move to grab the harnesses. She fought her way through the waist deep snow, plowing and leaping toward her target.

Malone fluidly operated the cyclic control, steadily keeping the pitch and roll in tandem to hold the helicopter fluttering in the same spot.

"Chambers, report!" shouted the pilot.

Kurt swept the territory above them again. Squinting into the field glasses. "All clear, Lieutenant," he responded in a clipped, professional tone.

The helicopter pilot made subtle adjustments to the pitch of the rotor, working to minimize the downdraft. Time was working against them now. Each second the cable was on the ground, the vibrations from the overhead aircraft intensified the risk.

This was not going to be an ordinary rescue. No opportunity to drop a ranger in and lift Jo out in a stretcher. They were only going to get one chance. Aaron had spent the last few minutes in route to the site talking Blair through the amended procedures.

The whirling snow nearly blinded the girls. The socialite scrambled to the brightly colored harnesses, grabbed them and then lunged back to where her injured friend waited.

She pulled the tangled loops apart and roughly yanked one over Jo's head. The brunette gritted her teeth as the binding passed beneath her shoulder blades and her friend lifted her elbows over the front of the device.

Blair adjusted the padded sling, positioning it snugly beneath her roommate's arms. She knew that Jo was watching her intently. She didn't have to see the anxious eyes beneath the smoked goggles to know they betrayed the young woman's brave facade.

Hundreds of feet above them on the slope, a patch of white trembled on one of the shear rock outcroppings. The drift had grown beyond the reach of the slate, the mass of the snow allowing it to become misshapen and unsteady.

The crust between the snowfalls had frozen into crystals. Slick and wobbly, the grains of ice worked like ball bearings beneath the weight of the drift. It shuddered, slipping forward until it was too top heavy.

Then it broke free.

The thick web straps had been double rigged. The blonde ducked into her own harness, lifting it into position and tucking her arm against her body to hold it in place. She pushed the relaxed cable away from them and squinted up at the orange underbody of the machine hovering nearly eighty feet above.

Blair braced her feet. "Ready?" she asked as she lifted her friend unsteadily. Jo groaned as she struggled to keep her weight off her injured knee. She leaned wobbily against her roommate.

The brunette's attention had turned to the cable that now stretched between them and the tons of machinery floating over their heads. "Let's do this," she declared.

The blonde nodded and signaled the rescue team.

The slope pitched steeply downhill. Months of snowfall had piled up along the crevasses. Some of the precipitation had been wet and heavy. Other storms had dusted the Viper with tight compacted ice crystals.

The daytime temperatures allowed for some thaw only to have the effect reversed over night when the chill dropped into single digits. The recent storm had crushed the mountain in a deep veil of white.

Now, hundreds of feet above the rescue attempt, a slab of snow the size of a basketball court slid down the mountainside gaining speed and ferocity as it traveled.

It consumed as it went, enveloping more unstable drifts until it roared with an intensity that enabled it to blast over the rocky expanses.

It sheared forty-year-old evergreens off at their bases.

High above, Ranger Baker slid the direction control on the power winch into reverse. "We are go for retrieval," he reported. His hand rested against the big control button that would begin rewinding the cable.

On the other side of the aircraft, Chambers raised his binoculars for what he hoped would be his final assessment of the mountain. As his view swept upward, he detected movement.

He blinked and then zeroed in on the flutter of white that rose above the tumbling mass beneath it.

"Avalanche! Repeat! Avalanche! Get them up, get them up - now!" he yelled.

His partner slammed the reverse switch and the device began making its revolutions, recalling the line back onto its spool. Each turn pulled over four feet of length back into the aircraft.

The winch spun and gathered more slack. Twenty feet or so more left before the tension would reach the women below. The pilot was attuned to her aircraft holding it fluttering in place while beside her the co-pilot kept watch at the approaching wall of snow thundering toward the extraction site.

Gregory's eyes tracked back and forth between the young women and the cascading tons that careened down the slope. His voice was steady and measured as he informed the pilot of the changing distances of the approaching danger.

There was no warning as the motor stopped with a shudder. The winch simply groaned and halted its progress. Baker stared at the mechanism in disbelief. He pulled the control back into forward then threw it roughly into reverse again.

"Go! Go! Go!" yelled Chambers as he watched the wall of snow and debris barrel down the mountain.

Lt. Malone felt the hum of the winch as it died out. "Baker?" she looked below, the girls were in position.

Baker threw the controls down and kicked the cylinder. The clatter caused his partner to look away from the Viper. "Fix it!" he yelled.

"Damn thing's jammed!" Aaron shouted, the frustration evident in his voice.

Chambers watched helplessly as the rumbling tons of destruction neared the pick-up point.

"Lieutenant, it's now or never!" he called into the mouthpiece. Behind him he heard his partner cursing and tinkering with the winch.

The pilot could now see the hurtling wall of snow as it approached. She was aware of the battle behind her to get the machinery working again. Her fingers tightened on the controls.

"It's now!" she shouted. "Hang on!"

Blair repositioned her feet and waited. The cable began lifting from the snow, faster and faster. Much faster than if it were being winched.

The sight caused Jo's heart to lurch. "Oh God, oh no," she whispered.

The two-inch thick wire climbed toward them, pulling free of the powder with a hiss.

The debutante's brown eyes widened. This was not what she expected. She had worried about what the force of the pull would do to her friend when she thought it would be slow and steady. But this?

Blair wrapped one arm around her friend and grabbed the cable between them. She felt Jo's fingers closing over her own as they gripped the metal cord.

Somehow, the blonde's startled mind recognized the risk of whiplash. She tightened her grasp on her roommate's shoulders, pulled Jo into a bear hug and drew their heads together.

Jo closed her eyes and waited. Blair heard the slithery sound as the last feet of cable pulled free of snow.

Blair's eyes watered and her cheek stung like hell. The cable had grazed her as it whipped upwards between them. Now, as she looked below them she realized what had happened.

The mist rose around them, cold and frightening, as the noise beneath them rivaled the hum of the rotors above. The entire side of the slope seemed to be in motion.

It undulated and tumbled beneath them, she could see shreds of trees and glistening shards of ice as the avalanche wiped any trace of their shelter from the slope.

We were just there. Just seconds ago ...

The blonde's breath seemed to catch in her throat. The helicopter moved above them and the cable swayed slightly, swinging them in a slow arc.

Jo raised her head to look above them, she saw the quivering cable as it snaked its way to the copter. The girl ground her teeth against the vise-like tension on the harness that looped beneath her arms.

Her fist contracted again, tightening as the moments wore on. Even small breaths were difficult now.

She moved her head back to look at her friend. Blair 's attention turned from the ground below, to the helicopter above and finally to her roommate.

"See what you get when you don't fly first class?" the blonde quipped. Jo offered a small smile in response and tightened her grip on her friend, letting her head rest against Blair's shoulder.

Blair tilted her head back, and briefly gauged the distance left to the helicopter, frowning slightly. "Hey, you doing okay?" she asked only to feel the dark head nod once against her neck.

Tethered as they were, belly to belly with the cable tight between them, they continued slow progress upward.

Blair swallowed hard. The harnesses were damn uncomfortable and she was concerned about how much pressure was being applied to Jo's ribcage when the brunette's hand relaxed and fell from the cable. Her body hung limp.

"Jo?"

The socialite tightened her arms around her friend's unconscious form. "Don't you dare!" she hissed as she pulled off a glove with her teeth.

The discarded item fluttered past the women's feet, falling over one hundred feet to the surface of the mountain. The blonde's fingers flitted around her roommate's throat, settling finally beneath the girl's chin where she detected a pulse.

The debutante closed her eyes in relief for the briefest instant before throwing her head back to shout to the crew above. "Let's go! Hurry!"

The team hit the doors hard, swinging them back and into the rubber bumpers that lined the walls inside the trauma unit. Instantly, the girls from New York were on their feet.

Two rangers carried a figure in a stretcher at a breakneck pace. The attendant that jogged beside was out of breath to keep up and hold an intravenous drip aloft.

Natalie gasped. Ever the pessimist, she had been quietly running scenarios through her imagination for the past two hours. What if this? What if that? She wanted to be ready for whatever came down from that mountain.

It wasn't enough, she realized.

Oh, Lord. Tootie felt her eyes stinging. She and Natalie stepped back and let the frantic procession pass. She was vaguely aware that Nat's fingers were digging into her arm.

But mostly, she noted how still the dark-haired passenger was...

Jo?

The doors crashed open again, in came two more rangers, their bright parkas shining in contrast to the dark blanket wrapped around the person rushing along between them.

Blair? Tootie blinked, not caring now if the tears escaped. "Blair!"

The shrouded figure raised her arms, extending them toward her friends. The rangers kept protective hold on their charge, but wisely moved aside as she was immediately engulfed in two hugs.

The skier leaned into the embraces, pulling them tighter. Both younger girls were sniffling.

Natalie pulled back first, wiping hastily at her face. "Ohmigawd, don't you EVER scare us like that again!" The redhead still gripped the older girl fiercely by the shoulders.

Blair nodded, a weary smile creasing her sunburned cheeks.

Tootie pulled at the collar of the debutante's parka. "Not ever, do you hear me? Not ever!"

The senior burrowed in closer and gave her friend another squeeze. The blonde rested her cheek against the top of the smaller girl's head.

"Got it, Tootie. Loud and clear," Blair responded softly. Brown eyes followed the stretcher ahead of them down the brightly lit hall.

Natalie noticed that the group was on the move again, too. "What happened to Jo? Is she ...?"

"It's bad," the socialite answered soberly. Her features hardened slightly with the admission.

"She's been in a lot of pain."

She swept her gaze over the expressive faces before her and felt her own heart constrict with worry. She knew exactly what they were feeling.

"She'll be okay. We got here in time," she declared in what she hoped was a convincing manner as they began a quick walk to catch up with their injured friend.

The doctor had been on shift for little more than three hours. He had been notified that the rescue attempt was planned and had wanted to be present for whatever came down from the mountain.

The call came in from the copter with an estimated time of arrival as soon as the young women were aboard and their injuries had been assessed. The med center's staff had mobilized quickly.

Team one had prepped for the more severely injured of the two. The clatter in the hallway near the helo pad meant that it was showtime. Reaching into the pocket of his coat, he pulled his stethoscope free and looped it around his neck.

His team fell into step with him as they rounded the corner. Catching the eye of the trauma nurse, the two professionals exchanged quick nods. The med center staff moved instinctively to the side of the corridor as the clatter of the incoming emergencies roared past.

Ahead of them, a cluster of people followed in the wake of the skier on the gurney. An orderly reached the group first.

From the look of things, the disheveled blonde in the center was a personification of the walking wounded. While the doctor couldn't make out the beginning of the conversation, he did arrive in time to see the cluster separate into three distinct women.

One friend stayed with the skier, listening to what the orderly and the trauma nurse had to say. The redhead moved away, mentioning the need to make phone calls.

The skier nodded and then turned her attention to the nurse.

"No, I'm going with her," she answered with a point down the hall. She took a couple of steps forward. "It's okay. I can wait."

"Miss, I really must insist ..." began the physician as he attempted to steer the blonde toward a nearby gurney. He grasped her forearm firmly.

She shook off his hand and gave the guy a push to boot. The girl's dark gaze radiated tired frustration but she squared her shoulders to his challenge.

"Listen," she stated flatly as her feet began moving again, her ski boots clattering loudly on the tile. "After everything I've been through... do you honestly think you can intimidate me?"

The young doctor took a step backward. This was one of those instances that the attending physicians had spoken of during the early days of his residency.

There would be times, they had warned, when it would be easy to get so caught up in the treatment of this injury or that infection that there was danger of losing sight of the person in distress.

He fell into step beside the skier and made a gesture toward his team. "We'll give you ten minutes - but your boots and gloves are coming off now in case we need to begin treatment. Agreed?"