[ Oh yes, easy peasy. Just brush themselves off and get back to what they were doing - headache not withstanding - but for now the mistletoe's power consumes them both.
Q learns quickly. He may not be very experienced with kissing (though it's certainly not a completely novel experience), but experience comes quickly to surmount what his mimicry has picked up, and he seizes the tiny breathing spaces where they become available. Mostly he takes his cues (Qs) from her. One arm stays, an anchor around Janeway's back to keep her from falling off the back of the carousel horse. The other moved back to her hair, fingers shedding the band that secured her plait carelessly only to plunge deep into the auburn strands.
He isn't entirely beyond himself. There was no fogginess, no single minded erasure of who he was, it was more a feeling of necessity, rendered instantly into a set of physical directives that it only made sense to obey. He was still Q. The change of environment had been one thing, but there was also something else, a passionate intensity that came close to being competitiveness that thoroughly overwhelmed him. He was Q, and if he was going to be compared to Chakotay and Kirk then he was damn well going to come out on top.
Or. Well. That was the idea. Briefly, his teeth nipped at her lower lip, still swollen from her earlier exertions, before seeking out a tongue-twisting exploration of every inch of her mouth, relishing the sensation of the silk soft enamel of her teeth, of catching her breath into his own lungs with each exhalation. Oh, he'd probably sulk later when he realised just how much he'd enjoyed that particular accomplishment (humans were weird). ]
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Q learns quickly. He may not be very experienced with kissing (though it's certainly not a completely novel experience), but experience comes quickly to surmount what his mimicry has picked up, and he seizes the tiny breathing spaces where they become available. Mostly he takes his cues (Qs) from her. One arm stays, an anchor around Janeway's back to keep her from falling off the back of the carousel horse. The other moved back to her hair, fingers shedding the band that secured her plait carelessly only to plunge deep into the auburn strands.
He isn't entirely beyond himself. There was no fogginess, no single minded erasure of who he was, it was more a feeling of necessity, rendered instantly into a set of physical directives that it only made sense to obey. He was still Q. The change of environment had been one thing, but there was also something else, a passionate intensity that came close to being competitiveness that thoroughly overwhelmed him. He was Q, and if he was going to be compared to Chakotay and Kirk then he was damn well going to come out on top.
Or. Well. That was the idea. Briefly, his teeth nipped at her lower lip, still swollen from her earlier exertions, before seeking out a tongue-twisting exploration of every inch of her mouth, relishing the sensation of the silk soft enamel of her teeth, of catching her breath into his own lungs with each exhalation. Oh, he'd probably sulk later when he realised just how much he'd enjoyed that particular accomplishment (humans were weird). ]