Title: I Never Knew You From the Sun

Pairing: Chase/Cameron

Rating: G

Warnings: Bad hats. And fluff

It's sort of adorable, she thinks, in a pathetic sort of way, how excited he gets at the first sign of snow. He looks at her and the shadows of falling snow on the wall behind her and she can't stop him as he pulls her off her cozy spot on the couch and into the hallway. His boots and coat are on before she can even pull hers out of the closet.'

He waits for her, leaning back against the wall, an enigmatic expression crossing his face.

"What?" she asks as she pulls on her boots.

"Nothing," he says, offering her a mitten-clad hand. She rolls her eyes and takes his hand. It's obviously something, it's always something, but if she pushes, the nothing will become a something in the worst way. This she knows.

He stops one step short of the door to grab the most godawful hat she's ever seen.

"What the hell is that then?" she says before thinking. He flinches for a second but then starts laughing and it takes all the effort in the world to keep the stern look on her face.

"A hat."

"I see that. It's hideous. What exactly are you doing wearing it in public?" she asks, reaching up to pull it off but grabbing air instead.

"I like it."

"Where do you even get a hat like that? Is there a haberdashery that caters exclusively to elderly men and style-challenged hipsters?"

"I'm not a hipster. Or elderly. But yes. There is a store," he says, taking her arm as they start out the front entrance of her building. It's colder than she thought'd be, but Chase is warm and perfectly willing to pull her closer to his side. "You can only see the door to this wonderful store if you're worthy. So sorry. No hat for you."

"Thank god," Cameron says under her breath. Chase says nothing, but she feels his warm breath on her cheek before he kisses her. He tastes sweet and cold, like strong peppermint. She remembers the mysterious crunching earlier in the kitchen and pulls back a little. "Did you get into the candy canes? Those are for decoration, Chase!"

He sighs and looks up at the sky. "It was only one. There's still a whole box. And they cost what? Fifteen cents? I think we'll be okay."

They stop in front of the small park near her apartment. The thin layer of snow makes everything look new. For a few seconds, it feels completely still, peaceful; the pink sky muffling everything but the distant sound of cars and it's only them. She catches Chase watching her out of the corner of her eye, that enigmatic look back on his face. The snow scrunches under her feet as she moves to stand in front of him, to put her arms around him.

They stay like that for a while, his coat scratchy against her face as the snow collects on their shoulders in small white piles. Cameron can't be sure how much time has passed when he starts to talk in a quiet voice near her ear. "You were wearing this hat. Back in the microwave pizza days, remember?"

She nods slightly, her breath catching in her throat, afraid to say anything to stop him from continuing.

"It was snowing then too. Seems like snow is good for us. Like things happen in the snow. Good things. Bad things. Lots of things," he pauses for a minute and then clears his throat. "The first time I saw snow, I was eight years old. My mom--she loved to ski and Dad was at a conference in Tokyo, so we tagged along. I just couldn't get over it. It was cold and soft and beautiful and--probably the last place my parents were happy together. I remember thinking how much more alive she looked, how dad couldn't stop staring," he stops again and tightens his arms around her.

When it doesn't seem like he'll say anything more, she peeks up at his face and his hideous hat and smiles. "Snow is good."

"Yeah," he whispers.

"And we're together. No microwave pizza. Just us. And your ridiculous hat."

"My ridiculous hat. Yes," he smiles as he talks. "We'll have to get you a new one. Matching pair."