"Why is it always so damned cold here?" Jack snarls softly, his teeth clacking against each other loudly in the relative silence of the room. Daniel glances over at him to take in his partner's positioning; Jack has his arms coiled about himself, his back is thrust up against the cold wall as though Jack's doing either of those things will help increase his body temperature.
Sighing softly, Daniel chuckles while he shakes his head at the question, trying to not shiver at the wet feeling of his short hair. "Not likely, sometimes colder. Least according to the message Peggy gave us."
They had roughly perhaps another hour or so until the target turns up or until Peggy decides to call in reinforcements to bring them home, so Russia is very likely one of the few coldest places on Earth.
Shaking his head, Daniel glances over at Jack, whose lips are starting to turn a pale shade of blue.
"Come here, Jack," he says, patting the space on the floor between his open legs, ignoring how his legs complain at the movement. He's sitting opposite of Jack in the little room, and they could easily share their body heat in a combined effort to stay warm if Jack was willing to cooperate with him against their common enemy, the cold room that they had chosen as their hideout. After a few moments of staring at him, Jack eventually slides over to Daniel to let him wrap himself around him; Daniel fails to suppress his hiss of surprise at how chilled Jack is to him and wishes that they were instead at home, warm with Peggy.
"Think Marge will still come for us even if we don't find our assigned target in this hell hole?"
"Yes, I do."