Note: Obviously I'm getting around to writing this a few days late, but oh well; everybody, pretend that it's December 31st! Takes place in the same timeline as my other fic, Wasting Away Again in Sequesterville, prior to Duncan going through with his big plan, but you aren't missing much of anything if you haven't read it.
Courtney had never been fond of the holidays.
She was as happy as anyone to get gifts, of course, and she wasn't entirely opposed to a break from school, although she'd once done the math and worked out that if all school vacations were eliminated people would graduate on to college, and from there to true adulthood, so much sooner that she personally thought it would be worth it. But she could admit that some allowances needed to be made for kids who weren't as focused in their lives as she was. It gave her time to work on other things, anyway.
The problem with the holiday season was that, for once, there was too much to do. Volunteering at the local soup kitchen, reading Christmas stories to children at the local hospital, helping out with Toys for Tots and food drives, ringing a bell in the freezing cold for the Salvation Army, all this on top of her usual year-round volunteer work, club duties, and trying to finish a few more chapters in the next book in her self-help series. Not to mention finding the perfect gifts for her family members, friends, and anyone whose good books she wanted to stay firmly in; it wasn't enough that the presents be nice, they had to be thoughtful, and no two could be duplicated on the off chance that anyone ever happened to compare notes. It was enough to leave even her overwhelmed.
Not that most years were nearly that bad. Usually she could pick just one or two special holiday charities to focus on, and it would be enough to make everyone smile about what a thoughtful girl she was. Most students her age wouldn't bother spending their vacation time helping others at all, after all.
That stupid show changed all that, like it was taking one last nasty little shot at her after she'd escaped it. People who'd watched it didn't think she was thoughtful anymore. They somehow walked away from it thinking she was insincere. As if sincerity had ever mattered in the business world. As if her reasons for helping out mattered more than the fact that help was given.
As if they weren't just as bad as they suddenly thought she was if a TV show was enough to make them change their minds about someone who'd been helping them for years.
So now she had to work three times as hard as ever just to make them think--know--that she really was a good person again. It would be enough to drive anyone to exhaustion.
She had been planning to relax on New Years Eve. She'd never been a very superstitious person, but her Nana had been, and every year when Courtney was little she'd drilled it into her head that whatever she was doing when the new year started would shape the entire year to come. It was pure nonsense and Courtney knew it, but just in honor of her Nana she did like to ring in the new year relaxed, clear-headed, and as happy as anyone could reasonably be when they were basically trying to lift their mood on command. It wasn't as if taking a day of rest could do any harm anyway.
That plan had been abruptly changed when she was invited to a New Year's party by Angela Teller, daughter to a city council member and a judge in the province's superior court. Courtney was even less of a fan of parties than she was of the holiday season, and Angela was more of a casual acquaintance than anything that could be called a friend, but if there was any chance that Courtney would be able to have even a short chat with her parents she couldn't pass it up. Rubbing elbows with the right people was one of the few tried and true of staying ahead in the world.
Unfortunately when she got there she found out that the Tellers weren't even home. The party was being 'chaperoned' by Angela's college-aged brother and sister, whose idea of supervising was providing the kegs of beer and occasionally tossing someone who got especially rowdy outside before they could wreck anything. It was in no way, shape, or form the type of thing Courtney was interested in, for all that some people, Angela apparently among them, had gotten the wrong idea about her from her brush with badness on the show. As if getting drunk and acting like an idiot like thousands of other teenagers out there was anything like the thrills Duncan had shown her which could only be achieved with a clear mind.
She would have turned around and walked straight out again if good manners didn't prevent it. And then basic human decency kept her from leaving even after she'd stayed long enough not to be rude; hardly anyone else seemed to be keeping away from the alcohol, and someone needed to be around who'd know what to do if one of her idiotic classmates gave themselves alcohol poisoning. Also, to try sneaking the car keys out of the pockets of anyone she saw who was entirely wasted and stash them behind a row of thick legal books in the living room bookcase; one spot that she doubted anyone would be touching.
Honestly, nobody would be able to claim that she wasn't sincerely a good person if they saw the crap she was putting up with in her attempt to quietly ensure nobody at the party became a New Year's Eve accident statistic.
The last few minutes before midnight found her tucked away in the quietest corner of the main room she could find that wasn't occupied by making out couples in various stages of undress, trying to at least push away the headache nagging at the edge of her brain from the loud music that had been blasting through the house for hours. It had only finally been turned down at five-minutes to twelve, so people could shout out the countdown minute by minute and be heard over the fray.
Courtney took a deep, calming, breath, then blinked and looked around when she tasted new freshness in the stall party air. After a second she spotted where it was coming from; across the room the front door to the house was open, letting in a breeze from outside. For some reason a crowd had built up around it, and she thought she heard shouting coming from its center, but she couldn't see through the group to tell what was going on. She pursed her lips and backed up little further until she was up against the wall, wanting to be well out of the way if there was a fight going on. She turned her eyes back to the TV most people were focused on as the countdown kept on.
"Hey, isn't that..." she heard someone saying nearby, but whoever they named was drowned out by at least fifteen people yelling out that there were two minutes left to go.
By the time the shouting stopped a second later, she was only in time to catch someone else responding, "...think it is! We've gotta say hi!"
She supposed that they must have just spotted a friend, but for some reason she couldn't explain her ears remained perked up. She didn't know why any part of herself would be expecting to hear anything interesting--she certainly hadn't in all the hours leading up to then--but she felt a crawling sensation in the back of her mind telling her that there was something she should be paying attention to. And Courtney trusted her mind when it was trying to tell her things.
And then she made out a snatch of one of the shouts across the room. "--Outta my way!"
Her spine went stiff, her eyes wide and staring, and she muttered to herself, "It couldn't be."
"Wazzat?" some guy she vaguely recognized from a math class a few years before slurred, looking up from where he was necking with a girl a foot away.
"Nothing," Courtney, said, inching away from them. "Just, um, go back to what you were doing."
"One minute!" more members of the crowd than ever shouted, but somehow one voice could be heard even over all of them.
"If you idiots don't get out of my way so I can start searching, I'm gonna do the moving for you!"
This time Courtney whirled around to face the door again, just in time to see a member of the football team go flying into a wall as the unseen yeller began to make good on his threat. It could have been possible that she'd mistaken the voice through all the other noise the party was causing, but she didn't know of many people who could throw someone who was practically all muscle around with such ease.
"Duncan?" she said quietly, then began pushing her own way through the crowd, carefully avoiding anyone who looked like they might vomit on her if she shoved past them, and repeated at a shout, "Duncan!"
A large part of her was well aware of how embarrassed she was going to be if it turned out she was mistaken, but before she had a chance to give into any doubts she spotted him through a brief break between people. He looked almost exactly the way he had the last time she'd seen him when they'd gone their separate ways after the show had wrapped up, except that in a Christmasy touch she never would have expected from him his green hair was streaked through with a few lines of red.
But then, when had he ever done anything she expected?
He didn't seem to have heard her, and with the crowd getting louder by the second it was unlikely that trying again would be any help. He was so focused on pushing his way into the party that he wasn't even looking up to search the group in front of him. It was easy for her to position herself in an empty space in the herd right in his path, then to reach out and grab his arm before he could pass her by.
"For the last time, I'm not signing any damned autographs!" he yelled, whirling towards her with his fists clenched. But the moment his eyes landed on her a large portion of the tension that almost always seemed to fill his body drained away all at once, and his expression shifted into an easy grin. "...Well, I guess I could make one exception."
"It really is you," she said, an answering smile already starting to pull at the corners of her lips even with her complete confusion over how he'd suddenly shown up there.
"You really need to get some more creative lines, Princess; at least five people have already used that one on me."
"Ten!" the room shouted around them.
He twisted his wrist out of her grip, and raised it to her shoulder. "Next time you're going to a party, let your parents know the address, will you? You know how many 'Teller's were in the phonebook before I reached this one?"
"Nine!"
"They have my cellphone number. You have my cellphone number. Why would you--"
"Eight!"
"Wouldn't have been a surprise if I'd called, Sweetheart."
"Seven!"
"Yes it would have been. There's no way this wouldn't have been a surprise."
"Six!"
His grin widened, "But it wouldn't have been as fun if you got over looking shocked before I got here."
"Five!"
"It's a good look for you." His other hand came up to skim across her stomach, and the fabric of the bright red dress she was wearing, making her breath catch and her cheeks flame. "So's this, by the way."
"Four!"
"Duncan! We're in public!"
"Three!"
"So is that couple in their underwear in the corner, but they don't seem to care."
"Two!"
Courtney resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. "God, what are you even doing here?"
"One!"
"What the hell do you think I'm here for, Princess?"
"Happy New Year!"
Before the words had finished leaving the mouths of the group, his hands suddenly settled on either side of her face, tilting her head slightly up so he could capture her mouth with his. It was difficult for her to even consider continuing arguing with him when his tongue skimmed over her lower lip then darted into her mouth, the sensation easily knocking anything else she might have wanted to say straight out of her head.
"Who else would I want to get my New Year's kiss from?" he said quietly when he finally pulled away just far enough to talk, still close enough that his breath gusted across her lips with the words. After a moment his eyes darted back and forth to take in the rambunctious mess of a party around them, then he wrapped an arm around her and began tugging her back towards the door. "No way has three months been enough to turn this into your scene, so how about we find somewhere more private, and smelling less like puke, and see what else we can do to ring in the new year?"
She narrowed her eyes at him, but let herself be led out the door. "Don't get your hopes up for much."
"You know, I'm even looking forward to my first punch of the new year when I push it too far," he said, laughing and curling his arm further around her shoulders to squeeze her tightly to his side. "Three months has been way too long, Princess."
She could hear the honesty in his voice beneath the laughter, and ducked her head as she answered just as sincerely, "You're right, it has been."
He led her to a car parked up the street, but before letting her go her pressed his face into her hair and whispered to her, "By the way, Darling, I didn't bother bringing cash for a hotel, so how about sneaking me up into your room while I'm here?"
She yanked away from him like she'd been stung. "Oh no. No, no, no. Jesus, Duncan, we're not doing this again, no!"
He leaned against his car and flashed her the smile of someone who knew that they'd already won. "Just let me know which room is yours, and I'll do all the rest of the work."
"The one on the front left of the second floor. If I was going to let you do this. Which I'm not. So don't even think about it!"
"Great, the porch roof'll make it easier," he said completely ignoring her admittedly weak protests as he opened up the car door and slid into the driver's seat. "Get in."
"Seriously, Duncan," she said, following his instructions, "What's fine on the show is a lot different from what I'm willing to do with my parents right down the hall."
"Yeah, yeah, we'll see about that." He started up the car, then reached over and covered her hand with his as he started to drive without taking his eyes off the road. "Come on, Princess, we've got to make up for lost time."
"I know that!" Slowly she turned her hand under his, so she could hold his back. "...Maybe one night wouldn't hurt, as long as they don't know you're there."
She really wished that his smirk when she gave into him wasn't so annoying.
Or maybe just that it wouldn't make her want to kiss it off of him so badly, when there was no way to do so at the time without risking a major traffic accident.
But instead of worrying about it she just squeezed his hand, leaned back in her seat, and allowed herself to give up. At least it looked like the last little stretch of her holiday break might be worth celebrating after all. And, honestly, if this was a sign of how her next year was going to be it was hard for her to think of many ways it could be better.