A/N: This is crack. So much crack. But…we needed something funny and light and cutesy. And, getting into the winter spirit, have some awkward business between friends. For some reason the idea of this amused me. A lot. So you get to read it. xD If it at least makes you smile, it has fulfilled it's cracktastic purpose.

Public Affection

They are standing in the medical center, her, Jim and Taylor, waiting for Elisabeth to finish with a patient. There's a wicked cold sweeping the colony and, between the good doctor and Malcolm, they're rather hoping to get ahead of it. Winters in the colony are traditionally of a milder variety but this one is a far cry from it; the snow outside continues to accrue, more than a foot of the stuff in most areas. The children are having a field day.

And she doesn't just mean the young ones.

Wash barely looks up from the datapad she is perusing. It's only the panic in Shannon's voice that has her paying him any attention at all (later she will note that medical staff had been making suggestive oohing sounds and that is perhaps the only reason her friend does not bolt). The man's constantly talking about something or other and, after months as colleagues and more recently as friends, she's learned to tune him out. It's the fact that he falls silent, can't find the appropriate words, that has her suddenly cautious.

"What is…why is…where did this all come from?" It's suspicious, but not really enough to draw her attention and so she goes back to her reading.

When Shannon refuses to let the point drop, nudging her shoulder less than subtly, she finally looks up. And regrets it immediately.

Green, a horrible, horrible bit of green is dangling above their heads from a very, very red string. It almost has the decency not to look offensive. Not to look like some great harbinger of doom. But she knows better. And Jim knows better. And for the life of her, she can't make feel her legs to get moving. Mistletoe. She's standing under a bunch of mistletoe.

For god's sake…

Scowling at the hateful thing hanging over her head, she knows some of her younger recruits have been playing their usual tricks. Little bastards. Shannon is in the process of backing slowly away from her (and she's less than subtly inching back as well) before someone else clears their throat, not so subtly halting their movements.

Mistletoe. They're trapped under the mistletoe. For. God's. Sake.

Unable to beat a retreat, she chooses instead to focus on his previous question, pointedly ignoring the newcomer. Wash grits her teeth, glaring at the plant hanging between them, "We found it in the woods a few years back. The kids think it's funny to hang it all around the colony and catch us unawares."

"That's stupid."

She purses her lips, nodding. It is, indeed, stupid. Most of the time she has the presence of mind to avoid the things but she'd been on a task, had a purpose. And now here she is, stuck under the damn mistletoe with Shannon. With. Jim. Shannon. She glares at him, finds he looks about as enthusiastic about this as she does.

What's worse is that both Taylor and Doc Shannon ( who has only just arrived, her hands tucked in the pockets of her lab coat, looking more smug than either have seen her in a long while) are watching them, far more amused by the whole of this than they have any right being. Elisabeth's smile is entirely too wide for her pretty features, a devious glint in her eyes, "Well, isn't there something the pair of you should be doing?"

They answer in unison, without even pausing to consider it, "No." Because they are Jim and Alicia and there's a sort of unspoken agreement between them that physical contact of that variety is strictly prohibited. The very notion tends to carry the connotation that, if obliged, it will undoubtedly result in either of them…they don't know…spontaneously combusting or any other number of events that involves them dying horribly. They don't really mind; it goes very well with their other rule regarding such contact in which the member attempting to resist said physical affection is fully within their rights to shoot the initiator.

These rules are strictly enforced and wholly agreed upon even if they have not, for want of a more appropriate term, ever been discussed ever. And as long as either of them draws breath they will remain unspoken.

Or would, if Elisabeth didn't have a say in things; the woman is chuckling to herself, shaking her head in amusement, "It isn't as if this is something you should be embarrassed by."

Wash let's out an inelegant snort, "It sure as hell is."

Taylor sniggers, crosses his arms across his chest and addresses Elisabeth, almost as if he's ignoring them, "I do believe we found our fearless duo's weakness."

"Public affection?" The good doctor drones, sharing a conspiratory look.

He nods cheerfully, noting their scowls. It feels like the world has allied against them. Wash throws the cop beside her a glance, crosses her arms over her chest protectively (unconsciously mirroring the posture of her too amused Commanding Officer), and shakes her head in irritation, again indicating the mistletoe hanging above them. "I'm not kissing Shannon."

"Geeze, Wash, thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Not the time for this, Jim."

Doc Shannon makes an amused little sound, leans towards Taylor, "Aw, look they're bickering, isn't that sweet, Commander?"

"Elisabeth!" And it's clear Jim's suitably outraged by her betrayal.

She shrugs innocently, rolls her eyes a little, "I'm just saying, why should you be so ashamed of showing some affection for the other? It's perfectly natural."

"No. It most certainly is not."

Taylors strokes his chin, as if he's considering something, "You know, Wash has issues with public affection."

"Sir!" Wash looks horrified, evidently having imagined their years of friendship and loyalty would protect her. What a silly idealistic thought.

Elisabeth nods sagely, "Mmm, Jim was like that early in our marriage."

"Elisabeth!"

"What? You can't deny it! You're standing under the mistletoe with a friend and you can't even give her a peck on the cheek."

"Yeah, but that's different."

"How?"

"This is Wash."

"She's a beautiful woman."

"She's Wash!"

The woman in question rolls her eyes, "Thanks, Shannon."

Jim gives her an entirely gender neutral clap on the shoulder before leveling an accusing finger at the pair standing directly across from them, "You know, it's easy for you two to point fingers. You aren't standing under this death trap." And while the pair of them nodded sagely, a moment later both the cop and the lieutenant would have given the world, their souls (or at least have offered to gouge out their own eyes), anything, to take back those words.

"Commander Taylor," Elisabeth turns and pauses to consult the older man briefly before taking his face in her hands. Her voice is warm as she speaks, leaving no doubt as to the validity of her words, brown eyes fixing him with a serious look, "You are an attractive individual, scientifically speaking, an asset to this colony, and I am honored to call you a friend."

To the horror of the duo (and the doctor and soldier note with no small amount of amusement that both their spouses share an almost identical look of disdain), the Commander nods, hands coming to rest just above her elbows, "Likewise, Doc." And before the other two can move, he's dipped his head, the smaller woman stretching to meet him halfway.

The kiss is chaste, friendly, closed lipped and clearly nothing but platonic. A reasonable, rational person would simply assume they were close friends, perhaps celebrating the others good fortune, perhaps reuniting after years apart. She gives his upper arm a good natured pat and steps away immediately. The whole of the maneuver takes at most two seconds. The simple fact of the matter is that it entails absolutely nothing resembling romantic affection.

This is exactly the opposite of what one would assume if one were judging on the basis of either of their respective mates faces. Their eyes widen comically, Jim's brows nearly reaching his hairline, mouth falling open. Alicia's lips settle into an impossibly thin line. One would assume, from their expressions that they had walked in on their mates making wild passionate love on Elisabeth's surgical table. Terra Nova's sole sheriff simply turns to his friend, face largely devoid of emotion and says, "Wash…your commander just kissed my wife." That she says nothing in response is perhaps more worrying than anything else. He waves a hand absently in front of her face.

She's cognizant enough to bat it away, favoring him with an arch glare.

Evidently unaware of the danger, the good doctor is making her point again, "Yes, Jim. We kissed. Friends kiss. And what do you know, we weren't struck by lightning."

"That's may be true, honey, but you now run the risk of being struck by Wash. She's gone catatonic over here." The lieutenant is back to her glowering. It's a most impressive sight really, her glower. If he were a lesser man or hadn't spent the last year building up immunity to her various intimidation tactics he might have been concerned.

Taylor watches her with the most amused grin he's even seen a man sport, leans easily back on the table behind him, "If I didn't know better, lieutenant, I'd say you were afraid."

"Of Shannon?"

"Love manifests in strange ways."

"With Shannon?" The look she levels at him suggests he's lost his damn mind.

He holds up his hands in mock surrender (and it occurs to both of them that neither he nor the doctor are even bothering to hide their amusement with the situation anymore or are above lording it over them), "Well, you keep backing out, what's a man to think?"

Wash's face clearly reads, With Shannon? again but she refrains from voicing it. Potentially because her voice is threatening to drop into an aggravated growl and Jim doesn't doubt for a second that she's about half a second away from slugging something or, more likely, someone. Considering rules regarding insubordination and her new found penchant for repeating his name, Shannon doesn't like his odds.

The fact of the matter is the Commanders goading is a cheap trick. She's miserably touchy about her courage, especially in front of him, and has the impossible desire to prove herself whenever challenged. What's worse is she knows it's a cheap trick, knows she's being manipulated. Somehow that only manages to make her angrier. Brown eyes meet blue ones, one burning with righteous indignation, the other twinkling with unabashed mischief. "Well, lieutenant?"

Jim takes a step forward, holds up a placating hand, "Listen Taylor, we're all adults. If we don't want to follow your childish holiday tradition…"

His high minded rhetoric is cut woefully short. Suddenly, instead of taking in air, he's gagging on Wash.

Before she can think better of it (and from the look of horror on both their faces, they are indeed regretting the course of action), Wash's hands are fisted in the lapels of Jim's jacket, giving a harsh tug. Later, she'll feel sorry for the man. She's far from gentle and it's less like a kiss and more like a…rage induced mashing of lips colored by a cocktail of equal parts shame and irritation. At one point she's fairly certain she hears their teeth click. Shannon, for his part, reacts as if she's jabbed him in the spine with a pin.

The fact that they can hear both Taylor and Elisabeth snickering in the background does not help matters.

The good doctor is nudging her superior officer playfully in the ribs, chuckling into her hand, "Well, we certainly don't have cause to concern ourselves over their fidelity."

He laughs, real, full bellied laughter, as Shannon manages to get his hands on the lieutenant's shoulders and hold her at arm's length. The two exchange a wordless look, mutual expressions of horror, and then separate, refusing to look at each other. "No, we most certainly do not."

Wash, childish as it is, is rubbing a hand furiously across her mouth as they leave the medical center. She'd feel bad about it but Shannon had been doing much the same last she'd saw him. Taylor's following along behind her, hands tucked comfortably in his pockets, smirking over at her.

"Got something on your tongue, Wash?"

The glare he receives is nothing short of terrifying. He laughs.

"Permission to speak freely, sir."

"Granted, lieutenant."

"Shut the hell up."

It only causes him to laugh harder, and he reaches out to take her arm. It's miserably cold out and the streets of the colony are mercifully empty. It is perhaps the sole reason she allows him to gather her to him. His voice is low, warm against her cooler skin, "It's not my fault you have problems expressing your feelings."

"You made me kiss Shannon."

"Think the mistletoe was responsible for that, Wash." She narrows her eyes at him and he willingly recants, hands coming to rest on her waist. He won't speak an apology so he simply leans down and kisses her. It's surprisingly gentle, for them, slow and unhurried. He feels her arms link comfortably around his waist, enjoying the warmth provided by their bodies as the snow falls around them. It creates a fascinating sort of sensation. Despite all her frustration, she willingly parts her lips, strokes his tongue with her own.

When they break for air, Taylor frowns, "You taste like Shannon, Wash."

She is wonderfully unapologetic, gives him a squeeze, "So do you, sir."

They silently agree to spend the next few moments cleaning the taste from their mouths.

Sky: Yup. That was cracky. But I was thinking and I came to the conclusion that…no matter how bromantic Jim and Wash are (mostly in fanfic; I regret nothing!), and despite the fact that I see them both being the aggressors in their respective sexual partnerships…I don't think they'd be alright kissing each other. Like…they might rather punch each other in the face.

And then I thought about Taylor and Elisabeth. And you know what, for the life of me, I couldn't imagine either of them making a huge deal about it. I see them being pretty chill. So yeah. There's your background info on the fic and…a glance into my crazy thought processes.