"New Year's eve is like every other night; there is no pause in the march of the universe, no breathless moment of silence among created things that the passage of another twelve months may be noted; and yet no man has quite the same thoughts this evening that come with the coming of darkness on other nights." ~Hamilton Wright Mabie
.
"As Time Goes By..."
The singer on the stage began crooning a classic song to his costumed audience as they moved in time across the dance floor.
"You must remember this, as kiss is just a kiss, as sigh is just a sigh, The fundamental things apply as time goes by."
"And when two lovers still say, I love you. On that you can rely. No matter what the future brings, As time goes by."
A masked man approached a red-headed woman, staring at her as she was dressed in a very revealing black and white French maid's costume, with her eyes peeking out from behind a black lace mask.
"May I have this dance Miss?"
She looked him up and down. He wasn't that tall, and was dressed all in black, wearing a simple black face mask, behind it a pair of bright blue eyes that gazed out at her. She liked his shaggy blond hair.
"I'm a married woman," she smiled, waving her right hand, as she flashed her marriage band.
"Perhaps we just should not tell them," he whispered, waving his right hand in the air and showing her his thin gold wedding ring.
She simply nodded as he took her hand and twirled her onto the dance floor."
"I don't lie ta him. He has a very terrible temper." She smiled wickedly.
Her dance partner stopped, pulling back from her for a second. "I do not have a temper...if anything you are the one with the temper."
"Moonlight and love songs, Never out of date. Hearts full of passion. Jealousy and hate. Woman needs man. And man must have his mate, no one can deny.
"I remember the first time I ever saw you in this costume," he reminisced," It was New Years Eve in Paris. I could not take my eyes off you."*
"Neither could Napoleon," she laughed.
Just then another couple spun beside them on the dance floor.
"You rang?" Napoleon flashed his smile from behind his gold mask. He was dressed coincidentally as Napoleon Bonaparte, just as he had been that night in Paris, his dance partner was in a stunning gold and burgundy gown, his wife Bella was costumed as the Empress Josephine.
"Hey you two, still playing your games?" They asked.
Illya and Elliott looked at them like children who had just been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
"Excuse me, but this happens to be a special anniversary," Illya smiled.
"And that is partner of mine?"
"New Years is the first time that I laid eyes on my Elliott." Illya smiled.
"How romantic," Bella laughed.
"Yeah, but she only had eyes for me that night," Napoleon teased.
"As I recall Monsieur l'Empereur Napoléon, I blew you off." Elliott chided him.
"Oh well, c'est la vie," Solo smiled as he twirled his Empress away. "Well listen you two kiddies...we're going to the hotel suite to ring in the New Year a little more privately. Happy New Year." he called as they disappeared into the crowd.
"Don't do anything we wouldn't do!" Bella waved to them.
"Doesn't leave much," Elliott snickered.
"It's still the same old story. A fight for love and glory, A case of do or die. The world will always welcome lovers, As time goes by."
The song concluded just in time and the emcee looked at the clock on the wall, then called out. "Here we go everyone!"
The crowd joined him in the countdown.
10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1..."Happy New Year!" they cried out in unison. The ceiling came alive with balloons, streamers and confetti cascading down around them.
Illya wrapped his arms around his wife, and they held each other in a long, passionate kiss. It was as if the world around them had ceased to exist and they heard nothing as they focused on each other.
The sounds of clarinets, saxophones and other wind instruments filled the room with the melody of Auld Lang Syne, accompanied by the voices drunken singers and lovers, then faded. But the Kuryakins were oblivious to it all, as they still held each other.
The singer belted out his next number with great passion as he held the microphone closed to his mouth, hamming it up to the audience.
"We skipped the light fandango turned cartwheels 'cross the floor.I was feeling kinda seasick but the crowd called out for more,
The room was humming harder as the ceiling flew away. When we called out for another drink than the waiter brought a tray..."**
Illya whispered into his wife's ear. "Who would have thought this would have happened Annushka? What are the odds that I would be married to that beautiful woman that I saw in that sexy little maids costume that night in Paris? The way you flicked that white feather duster, your arms moved so gracefully. It was quite alluring and unforgettable."
Elliott lifted her mask, resting it on her forehead. "Illya Nickovich I was carrying a black feather duster...maybe eet was a deeferent French Maid that caught your aye, Monsieur?" She put on a very exaggerated French accent as she teased him.
"Mmmm, I think not." Illya said as he locked lips with her again. "It was you my darling, happy anniversary, Ya lyublyu tebya, Elliott Tatianya.
"Joyeux anniversaire ma cher. I love ye too, my mad Russian." She returned his kiss with equal enthusiasm.
"S Novym godom," he whispered to her.
"Happy New Year." She smiled as he pulled her closer, holding her tightly as they swayed to the music, where none was now playing.
They put aside the things that had plagued their lives this past year, and on this night for just a brief time; they freed their minds of what the darkness would bring tomorrow.
.
* ref "The Mind Control Affair"
** "A Whiter Shade of Pale" Procol Harum