New Year's Eve

by forever fan

The start of a New Year is a time to review, reflect and look forward, but New Year's Eve is a time for a night on the town. Part of a holiday series of stories. It may help to read the stories in order.

Title: New Year's Eve

Author: Forever Fan

Rating: T

Spoilers: none

Category: Romance/Supernatural

Disclaimer: This property belongs to David Gerber Productions and FOX Television. Lyrics of Cole Porter used with respect but without permission.

I make no profit and intend no infringement.

Summary: The start of a New Year is a time to review, reflect and look forward but New Year's Eve is a time for a night on the town. Part of a holiday series of stories. It may help to read the stories in order.

Feedback: Yes, please

The week between Christmas and New Year's Day was winter break and Professor Everett and his three children were home enjoying the extended holiday time together. They took advantage of an unexpected white Christmas by playing in the thin layer of snow, but weather patterns returned to normal the day after Christmas confining other winter activities. The family went ice skating, but at an indoor rink. There was a sleigh ride through City Park, but it was really a carriage made to appear like a sleigh, although the horses and the sleigh bells were real. It was still fun, and the chill of the evening, hot chocolate, roasted chestnuts and singing carols completed the illusion they were on a ride though a snowy countryside.

Of course Nanny participated in all of these activities. In fact, she crafted the week long itinerary, never allowing it to feel like a planned schedule. She made everything seem spontaneous and fun, whether it was last minute tickets to a performance of "The Nutcracker" or a trip through the neighborhood to look at houses decked in Christmas lights. The children's active and enjoyable week had them all ready for their usual bedtimes each night, not begging – too often – to stay up late because there was "no school" tomorrow.

As much fun as those winter break days were, it was the evenings the Professor looked forward to the most. From the children's bedtime until past midnight, he and Nanny would sit on a loveseat in front of the fire. To say they would talk and watch the fire for hours wasn't strictly accurate, much of the time they found themselves necking like teenagers. Only at this time of life the Professor wasn't worried about being discovered by his parents, but by his children. However that didn't stop him. Those brisk evenings with a warm drink, a warm fire and a warm woman in his arms were far too tempting and definitely worth the risk.

The day after Christmas the day's activities had all been the Professor's idea. On "Boxing Day" as they called it in England – he insisted Nanny take the entire day off. His excuse to the children was that it was the custom in her country to have the day off work and besides, she had worked very hard to make the holidays perfect for all of them and deserved some time to herself. But his real reason was he wanted to spoil her a little. One of his presents to her was an all-day visit to one of those spas for women. There she would be pampered with a facial, massage, manicure, pedicure – whatever it was that women liked to have done at those places. The day included a lunch and a tea, something he knew she would enjoy. When she opened the gift she had been surprised and touched by his thoughtfulness, and even protested over his extravagance, but he had already made arrangements for the next day and she couldn't cancel the appointment now.

Proud his present had pleased her, the Professor enthusiastically took over all of the household duties that day. He had prepared breakfast, lunch and dinner, conscripted the kids to help with the cleaning up of the kitchen as well as tidying the rest of the house, and managed to complete a load of laundry. They'd even made it to a matinee movie and back, all in time to have dinner on the table when Nanny returned. She had marveled over the excellence of the meal – it appeared the Professor had mastered the outdoor grill although the stove still remained much of a mystery to him.

After the children had retired for the night, he found his reward for working all day was a much greater gift than her trip to the spa or her having the day off. The Professor found a very relaxed and very affectionate Phoebe in his arms, cuddling and purring like the proverbial kitten. She didn't stay that way long however, soft purrs became gentle growls as he reveled in the display of her feline nature. He was more and more delighted to discover the passionate woman beneath the sweet and efficient daytime nanny. And he was becoming addicted to the soft sounds she made in the firelight, longing to hear them in darkness.

"Hmmm," Hal moaned, lips pressed against hers, "If a day off makes you this relaxed and energized I should insist you take them much more often."

Tucking her legs under her Phoebe curled into his side. She nuzzled his neck and sighed, "I think it was the massage."

"Oh? Well, I could be persuaded to give you one of those once or twice a week or more – in return for my own massages, of course." One arm around her, his other hand stroked and caressed along her slender arm as if demonstrating his massaging technique.

She looked up at him, her head resting on his shoulder. "I don't know if I can trust you."

"Phoebe, I'm shocked at you." Pretending to be hurt, Hal pouted. "I have only your well-being in mind. If a massage makes you feel so good…" He leaned forward, kissed her nose and smiled, "…I want to make you feel good. Besides, haven't I been on my best gentlemanly behavior?"

"Most of the time," she answered, her eyes shy.

"Then the plan makes logical sense. Unless you trust me so little…"

"Maybe I don't trust myself," Phoebe interrupted.

His look became pensive. "After I pulled a back muscle playing football you gave me a rubdown with Aunt Daphne's potion." He wrinkled his nose remembering the smell. "Are you telling me now you had a tough time maintaining your professional demeanor?"

The smile she gave him was slow and mysterious.

Turning to take her fully into his arms, Hal gazed into her sparkling eyes and said in a low, conspiring voice, "Well, that massage was far from relaxing."

"Really?" The expression on Phoebe's face was innocent, but her blush was bright pink.

He grinned at her flushed face. "I think even the kids realized there was some tension between us then. In fact, they seem to be a little suspicious now."

"What do you mean?" Her look turned wary.

"I mean Hal approached me in a rather formal and adult way and said: "Dad, if you are thinking of getting married again, I want you to know we all think it's great." And Butch started telling me, out of nowhere, how much he liked you and that he is a very good big brother."

She nodded slowly. "Yes. Prudence has been acting more affectionate towards me than usual, hugging and kissing and dropping hints about wanting a baby sister. She even asked me if I wanted my own baby."

"Do you?" Hal asked pointedly, watching her face carefully.

"Someday." Phoebe lowered her gaze and rested her head on his chest.

They were quiet a long moment. The fire was fading but still gave off warmth. He was too comfortable to release her and put another log in the fireplace – besides, it was getting late.

Fingers slipping through her soft, shinning hair he said, "Well, the kids know we are going out together on New Year's Eve. They know that it is a date. I guess at some point we'll have to talk to them – ah – we have to talk about…"

She didn't reply and he looked down at her, apprehensive about her silence. Phoebe's eyes were closed and her breathing was slow and even. He was disappointed that when he had finally gathered his nerve to start a conversation with her about their relationship, she had fallen asleep. However, he was also overjoyed she was obviously at ease enough and trusted him enough to fall asleep in his arms. Tightening his embrace, Hal pressed his lips to her hair and inhaled her light fragrance. The conversation could wait. Closing his eyes, he realized sometimes it was more important to just feel.

XXXXXXXXX

Over the next few evenings Hal found he would drift off to sleep while holding a sleeping Phoebe in his arms. Not realizing he had closed his eyes, when he opened them again he would see that the fire had nearly died out and that she would still be asleep, limp and relaxed against his chest. Seeing her beautiful, peaceful face, he wouldn't want to wake her; instead he would cradle her closer and hold her until she finally stirred and woke. Then without a word, she would give him a shy smile and tenderly kiss him goodnight.

When the mantle clock stuck one on New Year's Eve morning, it woke Hal but not the slumbering, warm bundle in his arms. Feeling content, he kissed her forehead and thought about the long, holiday evenings they had spent together, and had fallen asleep together, in front of the fire. During these nights he became aware that all of his senses were now completely reawakened and fully engaged. Looking at her illuminated only by the low lights from the tree and the red fire embers, she appeared even more delicate and lovely. Her flawless skin glowed, and the gold in her hair shimmered. And he knew whenever she gazed at him, the color of her eyes was a smoldering shade of blue he'd never seen anywhere before. The sound of the crackle of the fire, the chimes of the clock, even soft music from the stereo couldn't compete with her gentle sighs and tantalizing moans. And nothing – from a Puccini aria to the lapping of a lake – ever sounded as beautiful as her whispering his name.

As if she had heard his thoughts, Phoebe sighed in her sleep and rubbed her cheek on his shoulder. She mumbled, and in his reverie, Hal thought she might have said his name. He smiled at his fancifulness, and breathing in her clean scent, realized the smell of wood fire and pine would always be incomplete without the trace of lavender. Just as the smell and taste of chocolate would forever create a Pavlovian response in him, and make his mouth water for the sweet, rich taste of her mouth. A box of liqueur-filled candies waited on the mantle for them to explore a new flavor every midnight, although they didn't need the pretense of the chocolate any longer. However, even the sight of the white and gold candy box made him crave the indulgence, and the dark treat reminded him of the dangerous emotions they were arousing.

But it was Phoebe's touch that created the most amazing reawaking of his senses he had ever experienced. She was so gentle, yet knew just how to caress him that made him want more. After his wife had died he'd believed he would never feel real passion again. Affection, closeness, even desire, yes; but real passion, real love…he couldn't believe he would ever experience that again. He had loved his wife deeply, and thought she had taken that part of him with her when she died. Now he knew the emotions he'd believed were gone forever were completely alive within him again. The woman in his arms was so full of life, so full of joy and spirit that her bringing his feelings back to life was something he could never deny. He didn't want to deny. He had ignored what he'd felt for this bright, beautiful and magical creature for far too long, and now that he knew he could have these feelings and express them to her, he knew he'd never stop believing in loving her again.

Whenever Hal touched her, he was certain he'd never felt anything like this before. Her softness and tender yielding created an intimacy and passion between them he'd never experienced. He didn't only desire her body; he desired her heart, her very soul. Kissing Phoebe was like drinking from some divine font; the warmth and taste of her was both arousing and calming. How could she be everything to him: friend, confidant, mother, lover, life mate and soul mate, and still be so elusive? They could talk for hours – he about his past and she telling stories about her outrageous family – but he still didn't feel as if he knew the real Phoebe. Was that, at least in part, what made her so alluring? Was it her mystery, her evasiveness, and his having to tease out all of her answers that kept him so entranced? Even as aspects of her remained frustratingly hidden to him – it was a tantalizing game. When trying to unlock her secrets he found he had to engage his own tricks – and reveled in everything she revealed to him each time she fell apart in his arms – or fell asleep in his arms. He hoped his plans for New Year's Eve, and in fact, his plans for the new year, would begin a deeper understanding for them. Gazing down at her as she slept, he tightened his arms around her, sighed and closed his eyes once more.

XXXXXXXXX

Belle Nuit was a supper club established in the 1940's. Well known for its intimacy and exclusivity it was almost another Christmas miracle that Hal could get reservations for New Year's Eve. An old friend, who had a friend, knew a friend that had a friend that owed him a favor. And that person eventually got Hal a table at the most sought after restaurant in town on the most overbooked night of the year. He was grateful to the fates or to chance or to whatever favored him. Wanting tonight to be very special, he saw getting the reservations as a positive omen. And obviously somebody's influence was very telling on him if he was starting to believe in portents.

Unlike many other restaurants, Belle Nuit wouldn't have a fixed New Year's Eve menu or special champagne "deals" designed specifically for couples that generally went out on the town once a year. Nor would it have a loud band, noisemakers, paper hats or confetti to ring in the New Year. Belle Nuit had a sophisticated patronage, and its atmosphere lived up to what the alluring name implied: Beautiful Night. Recessed lighting and candlelight illuminated the black and white art deco surroundings while the small band played 1930's and '40's standards, favoring Cole Porter songs. There was a polished checkered dance floor that wasn't very large – requiring your partner to stay close in your arms. Of course the menu and the service had an impeccable reputation, and ensured a wonderful evening well worth the somewhat hefty price tag.

Hal also decided a Mozart concert before their late supper would suit her, and Phoebe had been absolutely delighted at the suggestion. She reminded him specifically that she could get very used to such lavish surprises. He began to give her a quick kiss as a retort, and the lushness of her response told him she wasn't reacting to the extravagance of the evening plans but to his thoughtfulness.

Many people see the end of the year as a time for review and reflection, and Hal was no exception. Thinking back on the past year, he realized the most significant changes had occurred since the eve of Halloween when he had met a mysterious genie in a garden. Although Phoebe never admitted it directly, he had guessed she had been that exotic, seductive woman, and when he had kissed her later that evening he knew it had been her from her delicious and erotic kisses. No one kissed like Phoebe. And during the past two months, he had become quite the connoisseur of her kisses. Hal knew her sweet and rushed kisses, her shy and longing kisses, and her demanding and voluptuous kisses. All of her kisses were categorized in his neat, scientific brain – and all of them magical. Hard as it was to believe, their relationship had taken a dramatic turn in such a short time, and yet it hadn't really changed at all. So, when refocusing his mind from the past year towards the future, he felt an almost palpable anticipation for what the next year might bring them.

Odd as it may seem, tonight was actually their first official "date". They had lived together for two years and had explored their emotions and the boundaries of their sensual feelings for one another for two months. While sharing the last day and the last hours of the year, and facing the first hours and the first day of the new year; it would also be their first experience out together in public as a couple. Hal knew people had mistaken them for a couple in the past – a married couple – and it was easy for others to assume that. When they were out together with the children, the family made a perfect picture. His kids even looked more like Phoebe than they resembled him, and she did perform the role of their mother. He had to admit, the times they were mistaken as a family, and particularly when they had been referred to as husband and wife, it had left him with a very warm and comfortable feeling. In the past he had often related to her in the role of his children's mother, even of his wife, but he had never allowed himself to consider her as his lover although he'd been attracted to her from the time first they'd met. Their entire relationship seemed to be happening in reverse. He was already deeply in love with her, yet tonight was, in fact, their first date.

Looking at her now, sitting across the luxuriant supper table setting from him, he thought of the hundreds of meals they had shared. Those were generally meals she had prepared, and they were also shared in the company of three children, a dog, and various other visiting family, friends and relatives. On occasion even a date or two of his, not to mention her former fiancé. Hal frowned and pushed those last thoughts away. Tonight, instead of friendly domesticity he wanted them to experience feelings more intense and far more meaningful together.

The look in his eyes attracted Phoebe's attention. She put down her fork and picked up her wine glass while giving him an amused smile.

"Hal, you've stopped eating," she observed, taking a small sip of wine. "Whatever is on your mind?"

His eyes flashed bright blue in the flicker of the candle flame and he spoke in his soft, rolling tenor, "You tell me."

"You believe I can read your mind?" She arched one eyebrow at him then set down her glass. Leaning back in her chair she considered him a long moment. "You are thinking about how many times we've had dinner together and yet how different and exciting tonight feels."

Hal smiled quietly. 'And just how did you know that?"

"I was thinking the exact same thing," Phoebe reached for his hand across the table.

He caressed her hand, grazing his thumb across her fingertips. "Did you know I was also thinking about how beautiful you are and how incredibly sexy you look in that dress?"

"Yes, but only because you have said that ten times tonight." She smiled lazily at him. "I'd wear this dress everyday to see that look in your eyes."

"You wouldn't get much work done," Hal told her lifting her hand to kiss her slender fingers. The black satin dress was something he never would have imagined her wearing, and suspected that was exactly why she chose to wear it tonight. The dress clung to her curves but fell just below her knee. The neckline was demure across her collarbones and the tight sleeves covered her arms, but the back of the dress plunged wide and deep from her shoulders to where a small bow held the dress securely at her waist.

Slowly his gaze moved over her, admiring the shine of her honey blond hair pulled up into a mass of loose curls as well as the unfamiliar sparkle of earrings dangling against her neck. He even noticed the make-up she wore was darker and more dramatic this evening and his eyes were drawn to her glossy pink lips.

"You know, I look at you like this everyday anyway." Hal said. "You just weren't looking."

"Oh, I was looking." Phoebe's blue eyes were filled with barely concealed desire. She squeezed his hand to emphasize her meaning.

He returned her appraisal with a question in his eyes and she smiled. Not a conceited or self-absorbed man, he did know he was good-looking. He had been told that often enough and he'd never had trouble attracting women. Although Hal never gave it much thought, tonight he was glad he looked good in a tuxedo. And just as Phoebe had voiced, he would be happy enough to wear what she liked everyday to see that spark of hunger in her eyes.

"A tuxedo would be especially cumbersome to wear on the golf course," she said, as if she were dispensing rational advice.

"What? Oh." Ignoring her intuit comment, Hal placed his napkin on the table and tugged at the hand he was holding. Standing he said, "Come on, let's dance."

Phoebe nodded and rose from her chair. As he led her to the dance floor his guiding hand grazed the bare skin low on her back. The light touch was electric and he felt her tremble as if she could feel his warm touch all over her body.

Taking her into his arms her gentle frisson lingered. "Cold?" he whispered, his lips curving gently against her temple.

In very high, sexy black heels Phoebe stood much taller than usual next to him. With a gentle sway of her rounded hips against him she waited to answer until she felt his shiver in response to her movements.

"I'm not cold," she replied innocently. "Are you?"

Hal gave her a warning look, and then swung her gently to the upbeat Cole Porter standard: "I've Got You Under My Skin."

I'd sacrifice anything come what might

For the sake of havin' you near

In spite of a warnin' voice that comes in the night

And repeats, repeats in my ear:

Don't you know, little fool, you never can win?

"I never can win with you, can I?" He whispered breathlessly into her ear. "You're always one step ahead of me."

Equally breathless from the quick tempo of the music and the hot words in her ear, Phoebe quipped, "You've never minded following."

"That's due to the exquisite view." Holding her tightly, Hal maneuvered them through the crowd gracefully. They had never danced together before, but nonetheless performed like practiced dance partners. The rhythm of their bodies was in sync and she matched each step he took perfectly. Their difference in height didn't seem to matter and they fit as if they belonged in one another's arms. And they didn't skip one beat – not one misstep. Testing her, he grasped her waist and abruptly leaned his weight into her causing her to bend backwards. She gasped and clung to him, but maintained her balance on one foot. The sudden dip had taken Phoebe by surprise, and he congratulated himself while grinning mischievously into her eyes.

Hal pulled her back onto both of her feet and gathered her gently into his embrace. Slowing his movements, he swayed with her to the music. "You follow me beautifully on the dance floor. How can you anticipate my moves so well?"

Her soft laugh was musical. "Sometimes you are pretty easy to read."

"I wish I could say the same about you." Hal's voice was low but not teasing. He was torn between wanting to know everything about this mystical woman and his equally strong desire to simply enjoy the mystery of her. He didn't understand her, how she did what she did or knew what she knew, and trying to figure her out using his usual methodology of deductive reasoning and observation simply didn't work. He knew he respected her and had no fear or apprehension about her, but just once he would like to say he understood the woman he loved.

The song changed to another Cole Porter classic. The tempo was slower this time, and as the music began Hal recognized the tune and remembered the lyrics. As the singer's smooth tenor began singing "All of You" he smiled down into Phoebe's eyes.

I love the look of you, the lure of you

The sweet of you, and the pure of you

The eyes, the arms, and the mouth of you

The east, west, north, and the south of you

Phoebe's answering smile was tremulous and her eyes shimmered with tears for a moment. He was certain if she could intuit anything it would be his love for her. Desperately wanting to kiss her but not daring to, even on a shadowed and crowded dance floor, Hal satisfied himself by tightening the hold he had on her hand. He had been holding her hand all night: all through the concert, through the drive to the club, even off and on throughout dinner, and now on the dance floor. Drowning in the liquid look she was giving him, he felt his passion flare and realized he would never change this woman – not one thing about her – not one moment they had shared.

Sweeping his hand over the silkiness of her bare back, his thumb traced her skin with invisible, tiny infinity signs from her shoulders to the base of her spine. The slowness of his soft touch made them both ache from its gentleness. Waiting to feel her shiver, he held his breath to hear her sigh. When she did, Hal bent his head to touch his lips to her ear and whispered in a hot breath, "Sometimes you're easy to read too."

"I'm not hiding from you," Phoebe spoke in a smoky whisper, "not about us."

"Ladies and gentlemen," a balding bandleader with a French accent spoke into the microphone and broke into the intimate mood of the dance. "Our concession to the holiday is to interrupt your evening with a glass of champagne and the announcement of midnight. We will have the customary ten second countdown, but I would not subject the guest at Belle Nuit to any rendition of "Auld Lang Syne." There was a ripple of laughter on the dance floor and the couples began to return to their tables.

As Hal held Phoebe's chair out for her, he spied two chocolates on a crystal dish in the middle of their table.

"What's this?" he said aloud. Their waiter suddenly appeared at his elbow.

"They are champagne filled chocolates, Monsieur," the man replied as he poured champagne into glasses for them, "compliments of Belle Nuit. Enjoy your holiday and have a very happy 1972." He bowed slightly and moved on to the next table.

"Champagne filled…" Shocked Hal looked from the candies to Phoebe's guileless eyes. "How did they…? You didn't…?"

"How very unexpected," she said with a bright, delighted smile. "And how wonderful."

"Yes, I suppose…" he murmured.

"Dix…," they heard the band leader intone, "neuf…huit…"

Everyone in the club stood and raised their champagne glasses in a toast.

"sept…six…cinc…"

Phoebe and Hal stood as well, but instead of picking up their filled glasses, they raised up their chocolates.

"quatre…trois…deux…un… Tous mes voeux pour cette Nouvelle Annee! Best Wishes for a Happy New Year!"

Touching their chocolates to toast, they shared a conspiring smile as they fed the candies to one another. Then sliding his arms around the slick satin of her dress, Hal pressed her close to his chest and spread his warm hands over the smooth skin of her back.

Phoebe tilted her head for his kiss, and when their mouths met, the heat they created caused the champagne to burst from the chocolate with an almost audible pop. The bubbles ran over their tongues, the mix of dry champagne and melting chocolate a hedonistic pleasure. Tickled by the effervescence, Phoebe started to giggle, the sound muffled by Hal's mouth sealed over hers. Then he began to chuckle in his throat, and soon they were both shaking with muted laughter. The heady combination of holding the woman he loved, feeling her quake with laughter and kissing her champagne and chocolate filled mouth – all at the stoke of midnight – made him believe the New Year couldn't get any better.

The kiss turned from playful to languid as all of the chocolate melted and all of the tiny bubbles faded. He was aware of kissing her from one year to the next – and just how happy he felt facing the future with her. She was clutching his stiff shirt front, slowly releasing it and his lips as the band began to play "So in Love". The reality that they were in a public place began to dawn on him and he anchored his searching hands on her waist.

"Happy New Year, Phoebe," he smiled against her soft, moist lips.

"Happy New Year, Hal." She returned his smile then said gently, "Dance with me."

He obliged her by taking her into his arms again and moving with her in small circles on the black and white checkered floor. No sweeping gestures this time, no teasing; he was a man in love and he wanted her to have no doubts about that. If he couldn't quite say it in words yet, and if she remained a mystery to him, they would live in that tormenting place together awhile longer – it wasn't so bad – if fact, it was wonderful. And what he couldn't yet say, he would let Cole Porter say for him.

In love with the night mysterious,

The night when you first were there,

In love with my joy delirious,

When I knew that you could care,

So taunt me, and hurt me,

Deceive me, desert me,

I'm yours, till I die...

So in love... So in love...

So in love with you, my love...am I…