The snow fell heavy outside the supermarket, and the aisles were slick with drips from customers' coats. People rushed, grabbing last minute supplies for Christmas tomorrow and bumping into others with brusque apologies. It was late at night, so everyone wanted to get back home to their families.

Wandering through the refrigerated section, Jeffrey aimlessly gathered groceries for himself, disheartened and disconnected. The cheery music ringing through the tinny speakers clashed with his downcast spirits. Christmas wasn't what it used to be.

"C'mon, Jeffrey! We'll miss the carolers!"

"Look out! Snowball at ten o' clock!"

"A new notebook! Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"You look ridiculous. Where did you find such an atrocious sweater?"

"Jeffrey, I learned how to play White Christmas!"

How he missed those days.

Caught up in his heartache, he turned an aisle corner and smacked into someone, who dropped their basket. He jolted out of his memories and opened his mouth to start apologizing, but he choked.

He'd recognize those eyes anywhere.

"S—Skye?"

She looked confused for a moment, but then the realization struck her. "Jeffrey…?"

He stammered, but she cut him off by fiercely hugging him. In the process she dropped her purse, which exploded when it hit the floor. Laughing awkwardly, they broke apart and bent to gather the contents. Their hands collided when they reached for the last item.

Brushing themselves off, they tried desperately to come up with something to say.

"So what have—"

"How have you—"

They smiled and waited for the other to go first.

"How about we talk over a drink?" Skye offered. "I was heading to the checkout and I've got a bottle of champagne." She bent over and picked up the fallen basket. "That is, if you didn't break it when you so rudely ran into me."

"One could argue that you are the one who ran into me." Jeffrey smiled brightly. She hadn't changed.

Rolling her eyes, the blonde nudged his arm and walked towards the cashiers. A clerk bagged her purchases with a polite "Merry Christmas," and they hurriedly walked back to Skye's car. Jeffrey helped load her sacks into the backseat as she grabbed the champagne and plastic cups. Once they had settled in the front seat and cranked up the heater, they took a moment to look at each other and see the memories in each other's faces.

Jeffrey smiled softly. "You're eyes are just as blue as the day I met you."

"And you've still got your freckles." She was interrupted by her ringing phone, which she answered with an apologetic glance. "Hi, honey."

A faint twinge of longing pulled Jeffrey's insides, and he quickly turned his attention to the frosted window, trying not to listen. Even after all these years, some part of him remained with Skye. He had seen a few girls since their breakup years ago, but he didn't love any of them. Not like he had loved her. He was a fool to think it (she had a husband, for goodness sake), but still he wondered if she felt the same way.

"You got married?" He asked when she hung up, hoping his cheerful tone covered his mix of emotions.

"Yeah. Two years ago." She fiddled with the steering wheel, not meeting his eyes. "He's an architect. A nice guy, keeps a roof over our heads while I'm working on my research."

"Congratulations. You must be happy."

She nodded, still not meeting his eyes. After a brief silence, she asked, "What about you? I've seen your CDs in the music stores. You must be doing well?"

He shrugged. "Not bad. I'm touring with Melody Gardot right now, she's a marvelous jazz singer. Audience is great, but travelling's hell."

Skye saw a tiredness in his green eyes that she hadn't seen before. "I remember when you couldn't wait to start gallivanting around the world, playing music for a living." She smiled fondly. "You used to ramble on and on about how you'd travel with Alec, then go out on your own… Things change, huh?"

He laughed sadly. "Yeah. Whatever happened to those two kids who ruined Mother's garden party?"

"Or shot arrows at Dexter's cardboard face?"

"Or played two-on-one slaughter until they got blisters?"

They were laughing sincerely now, reminiscing their childhood shenanigans. For a few minutes, the weight was lifted off their shoulders. Jeffrey got out in the snow and opened the bottle of champagne, sending the cork flying into someone's car. They laughed so hard tears filled their eyes. When the drinks were poured, Jeffrey lifted his cup in salute.

"To innocence."

Her smile was bittersweet. "To time." Their fingers brushed when they brought their cups together, and the fizzy alcohol warmed them from the inside out. Skye turned up the radio, and the crooning voice of Bing Crosby filled the car. Humming softly, Jeffrey watched the snow gather on the hood.

Eventually, their cups ran dry and the conversation died. They wanted to stay forever, but goodbyes were inevitable. With a thank you and other pleasantries, Jeffrey got out of the car, melancholy returning. He swallowed the lump in his throat and began trudging through the snow to his own vehicle.

"Jeffrey, wait."

He turned around to see her coming towards him, cheeks flushed from the cold. Snowflakes clung to her golden hair and eyelashes. He was struck by how beautiful she was.

Stopping a few inches in front of him, she looked into his eyes, her warm breath tickling his cheeks. They stared at each other for a moment. Then she stood her toes and kissed him tenderly on the cheek.

"Goodbye, Jeffrey."

He smiled. "Goodbye, Skye."

She didn't look back.

He watched her taillights fade into the darkness.

The snowflakes grew heavier and turned into rain. Climbing into the driver's seat, he wiped the water from his face. As he drove away, the radio echoed with the lyrics of 'Auld Lang Syne,' and the windshield wipers stoically kept time.

Should old acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind?

Should old acquaintance be forgot, and auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne.

We'll take a cup o' kindness yet, for auld lang syne.

Sorry, guys... I'll write a fluffy fic to make up for it. Thanks for reading, I'd love it if you left a review. On a different note, Melody Gardot is a real, quite talented jazz singer. Yet another note, this story is based on "Same Auld Lang Syne" by Dan Fogelberg, one of the four sad holiday songs I know. It's worth a listen.

Until next fic! ~jarjarjinx