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On the Metatextual Flirtation Styles of Alien Women

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‘Jadzia, this is getting comical.’ It’s a good thing Nerys can’t see what she looks like in that wetsuit.

‘Comical is part of the point, Nerys.’ Jadzia does a playful little penguin-waddle to demonstrate. Then takes an elegant – if she may say so – dive between two ice-floes into the shock of the water.

‘This is getting outrageous, then.’ But she follows her all the same. ‘Bastard son of a fucking pah-wraith.’ Jadzia laughs as Nerys splutters and splashes in the cold.

‘You promised me some downtime.’ She plunges deep into the water, and comes up with her arms around Nerys’s waist.

‘Jadzia.’ She’s so bent on complaining that she doesn’t resist when Jadzia tips back, bearing some of her weight, so that they can kick out across the water together. ‘We could have downtime without freezing our asses – oh. Oh. Wow.’ Jets of warm water circle their legs, playing a teasing game with the cold.

‘See?’ The pleased murmur Nerys utters as she sags happily into Jadzia’s arms is worth any amount of complaining. Another few meters to the heart of the spring, and the rich, deep laugh in Nerys’s throat is its own reward.

Nerys turns in her embrace and kisses her happily. ‘But why did you have to drag me through a frozen wasteland just to have a hot bath? We could have done that’ – a wicked flash of her eyes – ‘in my quarters.’

‘Because this,’ she says, easing Nerys’s wetsuit from her shoulders, down around her hips, pressing the warmth of her chest to the cold of her lover’s, and pressing a warm kiss to her lover’s frozen cheek, ‘is my favorite cliché.’