Author's Note: Well. It's the New Year again, folks, and I felt really guilty for not doing a Christmas story, so I did a New Year's one instead. It'd rushed and unbeta'd- something which I'm serious paranoid about. I've written at least two stories on this today, and I think this is the better one. The other one was 'cute' and fluffy, and I think this is a bit more serious. Happy New Year's, people. Please review, like always, and have a wonderful 2012, my fellow Ozians! :P

It's not that I don't know that I have a drinking problem. Because I do know I have a problem. And I know there is a problem. What do people take me for - a fool? Well, I'm not completely brainless if that's what you think. Maybe a long time ago I was, but not now. I just have a simple drinking problem, just like more than half the men in Oz. Yes, even someone as perfect as Glinda's so-called fiancé has problems, okay?

Whoopsies, that sounded awfully self-centered, didn't it?

Well, there's another thing to add to my list then; work on the ego.

I've come to the realization that my New Year's resolutions list is depressingly long, almost rivaling some of my Lurlinemas Wish list. Almost. This Lurlinemas, I put only one thing… which I'm not telling you. You could be working for the Wizard for all I know.

Oh wait. I work for the Wizard.

Irony catches up to me just when I'm drunk. How lucky I am.

And besides – if I tell you, then Lurline and Preenella won't be able to send it to me. I do believe their gift is still a few weeks overdue, but I have strong hope that they can give me the only one thing I ask this year. They are magic, and they can find her – it if anyone can.

I stare down my list- so there are the usual things that everybody puts: be a better person, be nicer and kinder to people, spend more time with your family, that sort of crappy stuff. I add 'drink less' to the bottom, right under 'eat healthier and kick that stomach'.

Well okay; so maybe I may have been a little lax on my diet, hence forth not keeping my 'god-like figure' but that's okay because there was always Glinda's corset lying around (it was just lying there and I figured she wouldn't miss it because she had plenty more in her wardrobe) and I still (thank goodness) retained that six-pack I got in University….

…..

I have got to stop this drinking problem; it's taking a toll on my figure.

I add a star next to that particular resolution and underline it as carefully as one could while drunk.

I summon the waiter and order another few shots of tequila, letting the liquid burn a hole in my throat and stomach, wincing at the sting. I guess I drink for the same purpose as more than half the men in Oz: to forget; to feel numb; to feel something after feeling numb. Well, I've been feeling the same for two years. Is this numb? Ditching Glinda at my own engagement party might not have been the best idea I'd ever had, but what can I say? I'm having a better time here in a bar than in the palace, and isn't New Year's Eve about having fun?

…..

It isn't? Well, it is now. Fiyero decrees it.

I add 'not ditching Glinda's parties anymore' to the list.

I hear the other men – real men, who have no home, no family, no more sense of purpose than I do – over the other side of the pub, laughing among themselves while I sit in solitude. Fiyero Tiggular does not do solitude when there are crowds to be king of. I look once more at my list, to find there is one crucial thing missing.

Find her.

I write those two words carefully and neatly, more so than all the others, and underline it once, twice, three times before drawing three little stars on it's left side. That's the most important thing on this list. Find her.

I fold my paper up and slip it and the pen Glinda got me for Lurlinemas into my pocket, simultaneously standing up and making my way to the men. I think this time I'm drunk enough to feel something again, even if she is not here to spend it with me.

The clock strikes midnight, just before I reach the men. They all look at me, eyes widening as they recognize the captain of the Gale Force come to join their motley crew. After a minute's pause, they swiftly order me a beer, without comment. I think they can sense one of their kind; broken men looking for comfort at the bottom of the bottle. We raise our glasses to each other, toasting and wishing everyone a good new year. One guy smiles at me and raises his glass, and I smile back, mirroring him. It's New Year, and it's not about what we are anymore, it's about who.

I think that's a pretty good philosophy.

And so if that is true, wherever she may be, and whatever she may be now, I can't help but hope she's had a good New Year's too.

"Happy New Year, Elphaba."