Standard disclaimers. You know the drill.

Here we all are, gathered at Ellie's for her New Year's Eve party. I understand why she invited Morgan and Anna, but Jeff and Lester? Really? Is that absolutely necessary?

Oh, well, you're here and I'm here and that's all that really matters. Even though things have been weird between us for a week, ever since that stand-off in the Buy More and what happened by the Christmas trees. I know it's changed me, but it seems like it's changed you, too. It's certainly changed "us", whatever "us" is.

I don't think anybody else has noticed. I can't hide anything from you, though. That would really annoy me, if you could hide anything from me. But I see you. I know you. You're really bothered by that night, too. I'm sure I don't fully understand why, but I can see it eating away at you.

Oh, well, tonight is about new beginnings and a New Year. I am excited to spend my New Year's Eve away from spy missions and within the bounds of a loving family. I can tell that you are enjoying this, too, and that increases my enjoyment. I had never realized how much somebody else's joy could make my own grow. I feel my smile increase at the thought. You notice and your smile spreads in return, making me even happier. How did I ever end up with someone as wonderful as you? I'm not complaining, but I hope I didn't use up all my luck on that.

It's almost midnight and everybody is pairing up for their New Year's kiss. I love how easily you interact with everybody. But it's clear, to me, at least, that you're anxious to be by me. That's good, because I'm anxious to be by you, too. As we move together, I look at the other couples around – Ellie and Captain Awesome, Morgan and Anna, Lester and his rent-a-date, Jeff and his beer – and I think I'm the luckiest person there. Your eyes tell me that you're thinking the same thing.

In so many ways, we complete each other. You understand me better than anyone ever has. I understand you better than I think anybody else has ever understood you. We are two lost, broken people who have found that a similarly broken person can make what appears to be a very strong whole unit. Except that we're being held apart by circumstances – your situation, my situation – many events are conspiring against us. I don't know if we'll ever be together the way that we both want.

But, now, it's almost midnight. We join in with everybody else who is chanting down the seconds "10!" "9!" We instinctively snuggle closer to each other, reaching for each other at almost exactly the same moment. It's good for our cover to be seen as a couple, but it's not a cover, not really. I think that. I think that you think that, too. Certainly, at times, it all feels so much like we're nothing more than a young couple in love.

The seconds keep counting down. "8! 7! 6!" We are shouting out the numbers with everybody else, but something else is happening, too. Somehow, I have turned away from the rest of the revelers and my eyes found yours. I don't remember making the choice to do that, but I find you already looking at me. Your deep eyes grab mine and I feel myself drowning in them. It's a feeling I've felt before, but this time it's stronger somehow. Maybe it's the lateness or the alcohol (though I have been careful to not drink too much, as have you – we both know a mission might come at any moment), but I think it's just the relaxation and the magic of the moment.

"5. 4. 3." Our voices get quieter as we start moving towards each other. We had discussed the required kiss at midnight and its importance for our cover. But what I'm feeling right now has nothing to do with cover. The tenderness, compassion, and love in your eyes are mirrored in mine. We are drawing together for a kiss that has everything to do with us and naught with the reactions of those around us.

"2. 1." My voice is barely a whisper and I can't hear yours over the din of the TV, the other people, and the pounding of my heart. I want this like I've never wanted anything in a very long time.

As the clock strikes, our lips meet. I feel your gasp at the connection, while my own is stuck in my throat. Every other sensation fades away, except for the feel of your lips against mine. I melt at the touch. I know I should break away, that the moment is getting out of hand, but I can't pull away. You can't either, which adds to my giddiness.

I reach to cradle your neck with my hands. I feel your hands in my hair, with carefully restrained fury, holding me close, not that I have any intention of going anywhere.

Our lips part and our tongues dance, sometimes in my mouth, sometimes in yours. The only sound is your breathing near my ear – the only taste and smell, you. I'm getting out of breath, simply from kissing.

I've kissed and been kissed in ways that I had thought were amazing or earth-shattering. I was a fool. Now I know what it means to be kissed, to be really kissed, even if we neither know where it's leading. We have now and now counts for something, or maybe it counts for everything.

Finally convinced your mouth won't be leaving mine anytime soon, I let my arms drift down around your torso and pull you even closer to me. This time the small moan escapes from my nose, not yours. You feel so good and right against me. You complete me in so many ways. I don't need anything but you. I know that now. I only can hope and pray you feel the same way.

Your hands are still tangled in my hair, never letting up the pressure but sliding across my scalp, moving my hair so gently and carefully but so wonderfully. I am not as careful, squeezing your frame against mine so hard I'm worried I might hurt you. I know I won't, not really, but I care about you and want to protect you, even when you're trying to protect me. Even when I need protection.

Still our lips are pressed together forcefully, neither of us willing to let go of this moment – this precious time stolen from the world and dedicated just to us. My body is reacting in other ways, but I don't care. All I care about is using this kiss to try to tell you everything that I want you to know.

Now, slowly, something else is trying to impinge itself into my consciousness. I don't want it to. I push at it; I fight it; I try to beat it away. It's not you. But I can't and you can't either. The distraction is proving too much for either of us. My fuzzy brain begins its slow recognition process, each neuron clinging to the feel of your lips and tongue with desperate ferocity before giving up the fight.

It's sound; rhythmic sound. I've heard that sound before. I should know what it is. It's not a heartbeat, though that sound pounds in my ears, too. It's the sound of hands clapping. Why are hands clapping?

Reluctantly, slowly, painfully, I pull back from your lips. My shudder is matched by your tremor, running from head to toe. I draw in a ragged breath and pry my eyes open, seeing you first, nothing but you. Grudgingly, I look past and around you, to see what caused the applause that is now readily apparent.

The first thing I really see is a clock – showing the time to be 12:08. Realization starts to dawn in my brain, causing an unexpected rush of blood to my face. My eyes continue to track around the room, confirming my suspicion. The focus of every other eye is on us, and they are applauding for you and for me.

My blush blossoms fully, as I feel heat radiating from my face and neck. I complete a slow turn, catching each eye and each grin. I turn back to you and see you are also tinged with pink, a condition which only endears you to me more. Our smiles are twins and a quick glance (quick, to be safe) into your eyes tells me that you are as overwhelmed by the moment as I am.

Fortunately, Devon is there to summarize the moment, as only he can. "Awesome!"

Thanks to Farringtongirl (What Hurts the Most) for providing the inspiration for the style of this story. I blatantly stole (errr…borrowed) her idea and wrote my own story. I hope you enjoyed. As always, R&R is appreciated.