Title: Snowflake
Author: Ky (The Special Snowflake Of Hell)
Pairing: J/C
A/N: Written for bowserbabe who is amazing and such an inspiration. It's an honor and a privilege to be graced by her amazing-ness on a daily basis.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Song belongs to Colbie Caillat.
Date: 17/01/08

***

It starts in my soul and I lose all control
When you kiss my nose, the feeling shows

***

Chakotay was fairly certain that agreeing to this had been a bad idea. Of course, the idea had also originated from Tom Paris - With Seven, of all people, backing him up - so that should have been his first clue.

"I'm from a desert planet," He grumbled, "I don't do snow."

"What's wrong with snow?" Kathryn, oddly enough, had embraced the idea. In fact, she'd done more than embrace it, she'd been one of the first people here.

He'd become accustomed to having to drag her to any sort of ship function - "The crew would have a much better time without the Captain there, Chakotay.", "I wish I could, but there's a whole stack of outstanding reports waiting for me.", "I've got a headache, but thank you anyway." - and the fact that she'd beat him here was upsetting the balance of his world. And that was depressing all on its own.

Sighing, he ignored her question - he was a man, she was a woman and there was no way in hell he had a chance at winning any sort of debate with her so he wasn't even going to bother - and trudged through the snow.

The white death lay in thick blankets across the ground and he had to use double the effort just to lift a foot, which only added to his ire. Flurries fell from the sky and clung to his hair and eyelashes. They made his nose cold and they made him want to wave his arms in front of his face to stop them settling on his skin. If only he could do it without looking like he was having some kind of seizure.

"Chakotay, it's just harmless fun."

He didn't reply, too busy watching the people darting in and out through the trees. He could make out the shape of what he thought might be Tom Paris, but he wasn't sure and he wasn't prepared to risk it.

Chakotay dearly wanted Tom to cop it for this idea - "Just think, Captain, it'd be a great bonding exercise! And you can throw snowballs at the people that send those really long reports that we all hate." - he didn't want to accidentally hit an innocent and he knew that there would be a lot of force behind the blow.

He watched as the figure in the distance bent to grab a handful of snow, shaping it into a firm ball quickly.

When he saw the arm go back and the white ball begin to sail through the air, Chakotay reacted on instinct, pushing Kathryn to the side - straight into a tree, as it happened - and planted himself firmly in front of her.

It might have been her approval that had gotten him into this mess, but if he stood back and let her get clobbered with a snowball, she would be grouchy for days. Grouchier than if it were the end of the month and she were out of rations - and he had changed the password to his ration account. Again. - for coffee, even.

He didn't have a death wish of that magnitude.

Though covering her from the snowball that he actually hear whiz past his head had seemed like the gentlemanly - and intelligent/Self-preservationist - thing to do, Chakotay was aware that she may not see it that way when she realized that the space between their lower bodies was negligible.

He was suddenly glad it was as cold as it was.

When he looked down - and he had to talk himself up to that far more than should have been necessary - Kathryn looked up at him, blinking away the flurries that fell near her eyes.

Chakotay had every intention of quickly moving away from her and saying something to cover up the fact that the last thirty seconds would probably end up as masturbation fodder at some point - Pathetic, old man. - but it didn't quite work like he anticipated.

He told himself to use the tree for leverage and push back, while saying something witty and charming that would diffuse the situation.

But then her head cocked to the side a little and her mouth parted just enough and his body stopped listening to his brain and he found himself with his tongue in her mouth, his lips covering hers and his senses being filled with the taste of her.

He'd never quite imagined that their first kiss would be like this, exactly, but he wasn't going to complain, particularly when he felt her gently responding.

Trying not to startle her with five years' worth of desire in one hit, his lips moved softly over hers, teasing and tasting her. His teeth nibbled at her bottom lip and his tongue worked on finding every hidden spot her mouth possessed. She tasted like coffee - which, really, was exactly what he'd expected - but there was something else there, something that was uniquely her and Chakotay was determined to commit that taste to memory while he could.

As their mouths fused and mated, he was acutely aware of the fact that the cold, apparently, hadn't deterred his body as much as he'd hoped and Chakotay could feel the stirring in his pants, pressed tightly against her, though she didn't seem to mind.

It wasn't long before his lungs started to scream at him for air and Chakotay was forced to break the kiss, much to his dismay.

Pulling away slowly, he opened his eyes. She was watching him, her cheeks a little flushed and her breathing irregular as she tried to replace the breath he stole from her lungs. Chakotay separated their bodies as gracefully as he could - which wasn't very when the damn snow felt like it was up to his ass - and took a step back.

He waited for her to say something - "Commander, that was completely out of line.", "You're on report.", "Protocol clearly states..." - fully expecting that she would either give him directions to the Brig or quietly express her disappointment in him.

But several long minutes - filled with him trying to kick his own ass - passed and she wasn't saying anything and that was more unnerving than hearing her recite protocol again. He might have been an idiot for offering, but it would eat at him if he didn't. "You want to talk about that?"

"Not really." She shrugged.

Wonder's never ceased... "Are you going to let me do it again?"

"I'll think about it." She gave him a lopsided grin. "Now will you stop being so grumpy?"

He raised a half white eyebrow at the woman at his side as they resumed walking through the snow-covered forest, trying to avoid the flashes of black uniform. "Grumpy?" He repeated. "I've never heard you use the words grumpy before."

She shrugged, apparently uncaring of the white flakes that sat on her shoulder. "Well, that's what you're being."

"I am not being-" Something circular and white hit his forehead. Hard. He'd have a bruise later. It might even require medical attention and a trip to sickbay. "-Grumpy." He finished lamely, wondering if it would be manly to shriek 'Man down! I've been hit!' Probably not.

Kathryn, caring woman that she was, laughed at him. And it wasn't even a chuckle - he may have been able to deal with a chuckle - it was a full, long, belly laugh that had her clutching her stomach and holding her mouth.

"Nice, Kathryn."

"I'm sorry," He thought it was pretty hard to sound apologetic when she was still trying to swallow snorts of laughter. "But the look on your face was price-"

And then she was hit square on the nose and her expression changed in half a heartbeat.

"Oh, they are going to die."

It was Chakotay's turn to laugh this time - and it felt good, not that he'd admit it and validate her lack of sympathy - and he watched her splutter and wipe the snow from her face. "If it makes you feel any better," She was going to kill him, too, he knew, but he couldn't stop himself, "The look on your face is priceless."

***

End