FIC: Winter in New York PG (P, Others)

Title: Winter in New York

Author: RoaringMice

Rating: PG

Warnings: None.

Spoilers: None.

Summary: Phlox's sense of snow.

Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, yeah, etc. All in fun, no profit.

Phlox tried to take it all in. He'd been amazed since first arriving at the spaceport in New York; the sights, the sounds, the smells…ah, the smells. He closed his eyes, inhaling, trying to pick out the odors that were making the air here so different from that at home. He could smell fuel, and various pollutants, probably from the traffic all around him, but underlying all that was a crispness that was new to him.

Phlox opened his eyes, and then peered out the front window of the vehicle, stunned. Large, white puffs of…something…were rushing towards the windscreen, yet the driver wasn't reacting, other than to occasionally press a button that caused blades to cross the windshield, clearing it.

The doctor flinched, blinking quickly as the white objects came faster, startling him. "What is this?" he asked hesitantly, turning to the driver.

"What?" the driver replied gruffly, not looking towards his passenger.

"These white puffs flying towards us. What are they?"

"Snow," the driver replied brusquely, pulling up in front of the hotel and triggering the doors open even before the conveyance stopped moving.

Phlox nodded. He stayed in his seat as the driver opened the boot and left the vehicle, cautiously watching the snow as it fell to the ground around the taxi. As the other man pulled the doctor's bags from the trunk, Phlox observed several pedestrians hurry by the hotel entrance, walking quickly, their collars up, but otherwise paying no attention to the flurries.

It doesn't appear to be toxic, he thought, then he thrust one hand through the open door, watching as several flakes fell into his open palm. He watched as they melted away, wetting his bare hand. Pulling his hand back into the car, he sniffed the wetness, noticing no odour. He rubbed his fingers on his palm. Just water. Odd.

Noticing his driver standing impatiently next to the car, he smiled and stepped outside just as the hotel's doorman came and took his bag from the driver. "Thank you, sir," Phlox said to the driver, smiling broadly. The driver simply shrugged, muttered something incomprehensible, and jumped back into the taxi, peeling away quickly.

As the doorman placed his bag on a nearby cart, Phlox turned his face to the sky, watching as the large white flakes swirled past the streetlights. He felt their cold wetness as they hit his face, and blinked as they gathered along his lashes. He opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out slightly, rejoicing at the coldness, and the slightly metallic taste of the snow as each flake settled on his tongue, melting quickly to liquid.


The doctor looked down, grinning at the doorman. "Ah, yes," he said, and then followed the doorman through the entrance to the hotel, tossing one quick glimpse back over his shoulder as he entered, smiling as he watched the snow come down.