You must say, being inside a FV101 Scorpion for three hours to take cover from a harsh tropical rainstorm is not something to yearn for. It is damn cold, if it wasn't for the trusty old poncho liner you snagged from the local milsurp outlet. 

Amelia snugs herself up against you, attempting to get you to wrap your arms around her. "Ha, good luck", you think, basking at what little warmth tucking your arms up under the liner.

In under a minute, you would eventually give in to her unspoken request and end up doing the wrap-around. A +2 net increase in warmth, you thought, not to mention that it is much more comfortable.

Your right arm laden, you pull out the trusty smartphone from your tattered backpack. 2 hours away from the 25th of December, a glance at the cracked screen confirms. 

Two hours away from Christmas Eve.

From your knowledge, there should be a water heater in this vehicle, it being British and all. Instant ramen for two should suffice for a nice meal.

Your mind strays over to the USP 'geist. Where is she now? Ever since the mall skirmish, you had no sign on where she went. Did her and Bill's merge did her a heavy toll? Where is that guy too?

A few more thoughts led your eyes over to the hot water tap. You try to reach over to it, but Amelia gives you a hard time budging, having pinned down your arm against the wall. 

Fuck it, you just leave the attempt for tomorrow and settled your hear against hers.

Her hair does indeed smell of WD-40.