I'm Not Even Sorry

2012 was ending. The end came so quickly that Mindy forgot it had ever begun. Mindy always loved New Year's: the parties, the champagne, the New Year's Kiss. But no, no kiss for her. She will be ringing in the New Year in a delivery room, cradling a gross bloody baby that just erupted out of a nasty ginormous vagina. Great.

11:26. This lady still wouldn't give up the kid. It was stuck, coming out slowly. Mindy tried not to think of herself, knowing that her patient was having a way worse holiday than her, but it was hard. She had been invited to three parties, two of them no doubt full of awesome sexy guys and lots of mistletoe and little care for the amount of alcohol they were consuming. The third one was Betsy's party, which she was only going to attend out of sympathy.

11:29. She had thirty-one minutes to pull a brat out of this lady, change out of her scrubs and get to the greatest parties of the year through New York/New Year's traffic. Mindy sighed inwardly. Another year without a kiss at midnight. She was definitely going to die alone.

11:34. The baby's head had almost popped its way out of her. Mindy cursed herself for choosing such a disgusting profession. Finally, after a lot of screaming and nasty glop, the baby was free from its mother. It was a boy. Great, another reminder that she was single.

11:46. She wiped him clean and handed him to his mother. She cried out of happiness, holding her baby for the first time, and it was almost enough to lift Mindy's spirits. After she finished up with the new parents, she walked out of the delivery room and washed her hands.

11:50. It was no use changing out of her scrubs. She sighed as she let her hair down, running her fingers through it. She didn't care if no one could see her, she was going to look good on New Years.

11:53. She walked into the break room and bought some chips from the vending machine. She popped the bag open as she fell onto the couch and smiled as the aroma of sour cream and onion filled her nostrils. You can be my New Year's Kiss, she thought. She heard squeaks coming from the hall, but ignored it. They grew louder and louder and extremely irritating until:

11:55. Danny Castellano leaned against the door jam and smirked at her.

"Ugh, what are you doing here Danny." It came out more as a demand than a question.

"Had a surgery." He waltzed into the room and plopped on the couch next to her, making her sit up. "You?"

"My stupid patient decided to go into labor in the middle of Shauna's party." Danny gave a stupid half-smile at her response. He stood up and went to the vending machine.

"You thirsty?"

"Yeah."

After the clinking of coins and the bang of two cans, Danny returned to his seat.

"Happy New Year," he murmured, and they clinked cans. Mindy responded with a guttural moan, and slumped against the chair.

"Okay. I get it. I'm not Meg Ryan, and I will never have a Billy Crystal. I'll die alone, like that horror movie Gwen's husband made me watch." Mindy talked to the ceiling. "Look, it's 11:59."

Danny rolled his eyes as she began counting down in a defeated, monotone voice.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven,"

He inched closer to her, exhaling, irritated.

"six, five, four,"

He rubbed his forehead and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"three, two,"

But she never made it to one. Instead, her lips were smashed into by Danny's. She jerked backwards a bit, but not enough to pull from him. Her eyes were saucers, staring at Danny's closed, concentrated ones. He wrapped his hand around her neck, and gave her a long, pleasant kiss. He wasn't full-on macking with her, but something about it felt very personal.

12:01. He pulled away and opened his eyes to her aghast, confused, and slightly angry face.

"I figured that'd be better than listening to you complaining for the next year," he muttered in his grumpy frog voice.

Mindy gave a surprised laugh, and Danny shot her his stupid half-smile.

"Happy New Year, Mindy."