A/N: This is my first time writing The Host fanfiction (and I hope it is not my last) and who else to write about but my favourite couple: Ian and Wanda? Some harmless fluff, just to get you all going 'aww' by the end. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little one shot and if you leave a review telling me what you thought then it is quite likely that I will love you forever. Enjoy!

It is difficult to get used to a new body, even when you've had as many as I have.

However, I have never had to go from one host body straight into the body of another of the same species. It is an odd thing; you have the same number of limbs, eyes, noses, you have the same silky soft hair and tender, fragile skin, but it is different somehow. The transition I made from Melanie's body to Petals Open To The Moon's was curious for me; whereas Mel's body had hard curves and pointed elbows, Pet is all softness and gentle curls. Ian says that this body suits me better and I am inclined to agree. It does feel right, like it was made for me.

I have noticed the other differences are subtle, but definitely there. Besides the physical changes, people react to me differently as well. When I met someone in the corridor they will make way for me, or one of the men will hold the door open for me if I am going into the kitchen. Little Jamie is taller than Pet is, something he revels in greatly. Standing in front of the mirror in Ian's room, I can run my hands over my new host and feel something different in her than I did in Mel's body.

I think the humans call it 'innocence'.

It is Monday morning and from what I can see out of the skylight, laying on my back on the mattress, it is raining. Rain is a wonderful thing to me, clean, clear and utterly beautiful, but to the rest of the humans, it annoys them. Mel and Jamie in particular have an aversion to the rain.

'It's too wet, Wanda,' Melanie complained to me once, her arms crossed, when I'd asked why she scowled at the weather from the cave entrance. We were standing together, gazing out at the rain hammering down on the landscape. I found it quite beautiful. Melanie, however, did not. 'You can't do anything when it's wet. It's irritating.'

'It makes me cold,' Jamie had added from behind us and we'd both hurried back to hug him and bring his warmth back.

I don't think Jamie can quite believe his luck. Not only does he have his sister back, in the flesh with her wit and warmth towards him, her body finally the one he's known all his life, but somehow he's gained a second sister – me. I have never had a family before. But with the Stryders, I am fairly sure that this is what it feels like.

The caves are quiet, as they usually are in the morning. People will be working in the patches, cooking or cleaning. Kyle and Sunny will be sitting at the kitchen table talking. Jeb always allows them an hour in the early morning to try and find out more about Sunny's past.

I make my way down the corridor, listening out for the soft pattering of the rain against the cave roof. The other night, I woke up to a steady dripping and screamed Ian awake thinking that the roof was collapsing on us.

'It's just a leak, Wanda,' he'd yawned, putting a bucket under the leak, which I could now see in the ceiling of our room. 'Now go back to sleep.' His hands had closed over my own and brought me back down onto the mattress. Our bodies fitted together like two halves of the same whole and he eased me back into sleep.

I half skip down the corridor. Pet is far more of a happy body than Mel was, I have strong urges to skip and giggle and dance at highly inappropriate times nowadays. My hand moves up to skim the cave wall, which is slightly damp from condensation and I start to hum, an old human melody that Jamie was teaching me to sing. Mel asked me to drop by her room this morning, she said she had some old clothes to give me. that was another thing with Pet; the clothes I had used while I had been in Melanie's body no longer fitted and it had been a struggle to find any in the caves that did. I had ended up with Jamie's trousers and a few of Mel's old shirts. She must have found some more.

I pause outside her closed curtain, hearing voices inside.

'Are you telling me that you honestly thought you could grow flowers…in an upturned hat of mine …in our bedroom?' It is Jarred's voice, low and teasing, as is his customary tone when he is dealing with Melanie.

'Don't laugh at me! Mel's voice breaks in, angrily, even though I can hear Jarred's supressed laughter in the background anyway. His shoulders will be shaking gently as he tries to stop and does not succeed. 'I just wanted some colour in the room, what's wrong with that?'

'Nothing, Mel.' His voice goes softer. There is a creak as I assume Jarred sits next to her on the bed. 'It's just kind of funny, don't you think?'

There is a pause and I picture Melanie internally struggling against her stubbornness and her love of Jarred, which I know from experience, will always triumph over the obstinacy.

'I suppose,' she says begrudgingly. 'It does look a bit sad doesn't it?'

Jarred bursts out into a hearty laugh and I imagine him hugging Melanie close to him. 'Tell you what,' he suggests, 'when Ian and I next go on a raid, I'll get you some flowers you can grow. Maybe even a proper pot as well, as long as you promise not to sacrifice my poor hat for one ever again.'

'Throw in some tomato seeds and a shovel and you've got yourself a deal.'

'Done.'

'Eskimo kiss?'

Eskimo kiss?

I frown at the closed curtain, wondering what this strange type of kissing is. I know what a kiss is, obviously, but an eskimo kiss? Suddenly, my cheeks start to feel hotter and my face burns at the mental images that have popped up in my head before I can stop them. I clap my hands over my mouth to stop myself from squeaking aloud (Petals Open To The Moon was a squeaker).

'I'll see you at lunch, yeah?' This is Jarred again, and his voice is much closer to the curtain.

'Yeah. Love you.'

'Love you too, Mel.' I leap back as the curtain is pulled open and Jarred comes out, holding an upside down hat, one I recognise as being his favourite in both hands, staring at it forlornly.

'Hello, Jarred,' I say, my voice thankfully not showing my embarrassment.

'Hey, Wanda,' he replies, giving me a brief, but glum smile, and walks off cradling his hat.

Poor Jarred.

'Wanda!' Mel greets me as I poke my head around the side of the curtain that separates her room from the rest of the corridor. 'Come in! I found some old things for you, they were in a bag Jarred had put in storage.' I move into the room as she bounds off the bed and to a chest in the corner of the room and starts rummaging. 'Now, they might need a wash but I can do that with you this afternoon but they're good quality and this blue top will go perfectly with your eyes…'

She trails off as she shoves the clothes into my waiting arms. 'Wanda, are you alright? You look very red. Do you think you've caught some bug or something?' She frowns and puts up a hand to test my forehead. 'Maybe we should ask Doc to look you over.'

'No!' She jumps at the sudden cheeriness of my tone. 'No, I am fine, Mel, thank you. I was just a bit hot in my room.'

'Really?' She doesn't look as if she believes me. 'Well, if you're sure…'

'I am sure!' I smile at her and start to back out of the room. 'Thank you so much for the clothes, they are wonderful! See you later!'

I am running off back through the caves before she has time to open her mouth again.

'Ian?'

'Hmm?'

'What are eskimos?'

I am sitting on the kitchen table, watching Ian cut up carrots. We are alone, everyone else is out playing football but it was Ian's turn to cook and I had volunteered to help. As it happens, there wasn't much for me to do and I have ended up just watching him from my perch on the edge of the table, my arms curled around my knees.

After what I witnessed this morning, I was desperate to know what these eskimo kisses were. Asking Mel was completely inappropriate, I would be far too embarrassed. I couldn't even consider asking Jarred. Eventually, I decided to go to the one person that I possibly trust even more than Melanie –Ian. He must know what these eskimo kisses are.

Ian glances over at me, a bemused expression on his face. 'Eskimos? Wanda, where have you heard about eskimos?'

'Around,' I say evasively.

'Well,' Ian puts down the knife and wipes his hands on a cloth. 'Eskimos were a race of people long ago who lived at the poles and they had a lot of furs.' He mimes hugging something up to his face in an attempt to make me laugh.

'But what are the poles?' I ask, still confused.

'They were the icy areas at the top and bottom of the world,' Ian explains, sitting next to me on the table. 'The sun didn't quite reach them there so it was always very cold and the snow never melted. They lived in houses made of ice, they were called igloos.'

'But what did they eat?' I exclaim, worrying about this strange race of people who lived in a world of ice and cold. Jamie would never stand it.

'Fish, of course!' Ian laughs. 'They would cut a hole in the ice and fish through it.'

'Oh.'

I pause, considering this. What is the connection between these odd people who live in houses made of ice and survive on a diet of fish and the kisses that Melanie and Jarred shared this morning? I can't connect the images.

Ian notices this and nudges me gently. 'Wanda? What else is there?'

I stare at him. 'How do you know there is something else?'

He smiles and curls a strand of my hair around his finger. 'Because I know you.'

I take a deep breath and whisper the words. 'What is…an eskimo kiss?'

Ian blinks at me in surprise and then starts to chuckle.

'What?' I demand, as he laughs, throwing his head back. 'What's so funny?'

'Did you really have to ask me all that just to find out what an eskimo kiss is?'

'I didn't want you to think I was silly,' I admit.

'Wanda, I'd never think you were silly,' he tell me softly. 'Not at all. Where…where did you hear about eskimo kisses?'

I flush again and duck my head so that Pet's long hair flops into my face, shielding me from Ian's gaze.

'Wanda…' I know that tone. I will have to tell him now.

'I heard Jarred give Mel one,' I reveal, highly embarrassed. 'I was outside her room, behind the curtain and I heard it but I didn't see it.' I look up at him, alarmed. 'I wouldn't. That wouldn't be proper, would it?'

'No, Wanda.' There is laughter in his voice. 'It wouldn't be.' He looks into my eyes. 'Would you like me to show you what one is?'

I suck in my breath and nod. 'Yes,' I whisper.

Ian leans in and I close my eyes, bracing my shoulders, waiting for the pressure to appear on my lips that I have discovered lets me know that I am being kissed. It never comes. Instead, something brushes against my nose. I start and open my eyes in surprise. Ian is rubbing his freckled, long nose against my own button one, back and forth until it reaches the tip. Once there, he leans back again, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he looks at me expectantly.

Something bubbles up from my stomach and into my chest where I have to let it out. I burst out giggling, my hand over my mouth and laugh and laugh until my sides hurt.

'What?' Ian is laughing too, but he seems to be more amused by my outburst than concerned.

'Do it again, do it again!' I screw my eyes shut and thrust my face forward, demanding another kiss in the same way. Ian is still laughing as he repeats the kiss, gently rubbing his nose against mine, but faster this time, so I feel the heat brushing on my skin. I burst into peals of laughter again; the whole act just seems so humorous and yet it feels so wonderful. Tender and sweet, but it is still intimate enough so that you know this person cares about you.

'They are wonderful!' I declare, once I have stopped laughing enough to speak. 'I can see why Melanie wanted one. Eskimo kisses are my new favourites.'

'Oh really?' Ian raises an eyebrow at me.

'Yes,' I say, tilting my chin up and him. 'And nothing can persuade me otherwise.'

'Not even…' Ian swoops in again, pressing his lips to mine. I am not expecting this one and it quite takes my breath away. I ease into the kiss as easily as you would ease into a bed at the end of a tired day. Ian's mouth is still unfamiliar territory to me, but it is a place I am learning very well. His lips are soft and warm and yet they send fireworks shooting through my body. Sparks seem to fly off my skin, as he reaches up to caress my cheek and my hands find their way to his waist. He finally pulls away, grinning at me ruefully. '…that?'

I pretend to consider, just as Melanie does to Jarred. But I cannot do it for as long as she can. I have to smile, the grin breaking out on my lips without my permission and I have to fling my arms around his neck and squeeze tightly.

'That might,' I say into his ear. 'Just top an eskimo kiss. But only just.'

Did you go 'aww'? I bet you did, but let me know in the little review box. Thank you so much for reading,

love, Isabelle x