A/N: Secret Santa Fic Exchange, for csiAngel! Her first request was for a New Year's Eve celebration, so I decided to write eight of them. I've taken some liberties with the timeline. Nothing major, I just went for emotion and tension over accuracy :D
Enjoy, and have a FABULOUS new year!
Summary: They celebrate every year, sometimes closer, sometimes farther away. No matter what happens they'll always end up together.
Pairing: octuple Callian, all the way
Rated T for mention of drugs and alcohol use (teehee)
Throughout The (New) Years
New Year's Eve, 1996
They were both at the same New Year's Eve party that year, and they didn't even know it. Cal saw her for the first time at 11:52pm, watching the host's widescreen television while the man Cal presumed was her husband held up his half of a separate conversation. They stood next to each other, but they seemed apart. Cal couldn't help but take note of that body language. It was the way he stood around at parties with his own wife. At first, when he started watching, the strange couple was just a distraction, something to occupy his mind during a boring holiday office party. Then the woman turned toward the man her husband was talking to and smiled. She laughed and chimed in on whatever topic had brought her back to the conversation, and she became not only exceptionally pretty, but beautiful and sexy too.
She was one of many people Cal ended up studying that evening, while his wife was busy with her colleagues. If only he remembered seeing Gillian that night, he would know he'd been attracted to her years longer than he thought.
On her way out, at one thirty in the morning, Gillian heard a British accent somewhere behind her. The voice's owner said something hilariously dry and witty, but by the time she turned to see who it was, someone else was talking and she couldn't tell who the voice belonged to. For a guilty moment Gillian wished she was going home with a witty stranger from England instead of her husband. The moment faded quickly - that was no way to start off the new year - and Gillian forgot about it the next day.
New Year's Eve, 1999
Gillian left the party she'd attended with Alec in tears, because she knew he was in the bathroom snorting up with a coworker instead of watching Dick Clark with her, the way all the other married couples were. She took their car home, leaving him stranded, and spent one of the worst, most pain-filled nights of her life by herself, crying alone in their bed. The part that pissed her off the most was missing the countdown and the confetti. His addiction had stolen the simplest of life's joys from her.
Emily had a fever that night, the beginning of a flu, so Cal spent the night on the couch as her pillow and popsicle runner, watching television programs he didn't care about because that was what she wanted to watch. It was quite nice, actually, having Zoe out of the house for a night. He was sick of going to parties with her. Little Em was much better company, even when she was ill.
New Year's Eve, 2001
Early in the evening, Cal was seated in the Lightman Group conference room, watching the guests at his own company's New Year's party as they milled about in the hallways. It was their first, and they'd spent perhaps a bit too much on it, but it was a new company, a new millennium, and they needed a lot of new clients to live up to the reputation they'd given themselves.
It worried him as much as it excited him, and the story was the same for Gillian. Every time he caught her eye across the room they'd smile at each other, grinning, because they both knew this could all slip away at any moment and they were holding on as tight as they could.
At 11:30, after three straight hours of schmoozing, Gillian managed to sneak away to Cal's small office in the back. She suspected she'd find him there, having had enough of his hosting responsibilities. Sure enough she found him sitting in the dark, his chair turned toward the window so he could watch the snow falling outside.
"It'll be over soon, I promise."
He turned, not startled, just nudged out of deep thought by her soothing voice. He inhaled quickly and deeply to refresh himself. "Sorry to abandon you, love." he said, giving all of his attention to her. "I just needed a little break."
She was still getting to know him, still navigating around and through his practiced behaviors and his natural ones. She wondered whether he was really sorry. He cared enough to pretend; that was something. She knew he called almost everyone 'love', but in the back of her mind, in what she assumed was pure fantasy, it meant something more when he said it to her.
"I'm not here to drag you back out." she assured him. "I needed a break too."
Cal smiled. She wanted him to trust her. And he really did.
That was how their tradition began, taking time during the night for just the two of them. The first year, they sat and talked about the catering. No work, no spouses...just friends, bonding.
Before they knew it, everyone was counting down. The new year had arrived, and they were happy.
New Year's Eve, 2004
"I almost died last week." Cal said, his eyes glassy from too much alcohol.
"I wasn't gonna let that happen." Gillian slurred, her voice impeded by too much alcohol. She'd almost lost him, and they were both so damn happy to be alive. They'd made it to the couch in Gillian's office, trying to keep the room from spinning as they settled into their stolen moment.
"I have to tell you something." said Cal, his head lolling against the back of the couch as he turned to look at her.
She took slow, deep breaths, too drunk to see the strangely serious look in his eyes when she turned and looked at him. She was slouched like him, her head was resting on the back of the couch next to his, her legs crossed toward him, and she blinked like everything around her was in slow motion.
"You're the only thing," he said, and she smiled. She didn't understand yet, though, and that made him repeat himself. "You're the only thing," he said again, emphasizing the words with an exaggerated squint."That protects me. From all of that."
Cal waved a hand toward the rest of the office, at the people they were hiding from. Gillian's smile was warm, loosened up by the drinks she'd all but slugged back in celebration of seeing another year with Cal and the company. She breathed in and sighed out through her nose, shifting her body so she was resting on her hip, her palms pressed together underneath her cheek.
"You're very drunk, Cal." she reminded him.
"I know." he said, sighing regretfully just for show. "Too much absinthe. Your point?"
"You're not going to remember saying that in the morning." she teased him. Her smirk drove him absolutely insane. He would have kissed her that year, right then and there, Alec be damned, if he hadn't felt the need to say something cute and witty in response.
"That may be so, darling. But I'm still going to feel that way."
Zoe appeared in the doorway then with an obvious look of contempt, like she'd been listening outside and all of her suspicions had been confirmed. She was cold sober, since she'd driven Emily to the party, and the proximity of her ex-husband to his business partner offended her on a deeply personal level.
"Your daughter is looking for you." she said, trying to sound disinterested. "She said I should take you home."
Cal sneered at her, his face a reflection of that very same contempt. "You ruin everything, don't you?" he asked her. He felt Gillian's hand on his arm, squeezing him, reminding him to at least try to censor himself. She forgot she was drunk too, and that Zoe could see her trying not to giggle at Cal's comment. Gillian hid it better when she was sober; she enjoyed rubbing her relationship with Cal in Zoe's face. She wasn't going to remember enjoying it this much in the morning, but she was still going to feel that way.
New Year's Eve, 2006
Cal waited anxiously for Gillian to arrive at the party house they'd rented. She hadn't mentioned anything about being late, and he detested greeting all the clients she invited, much more when he had to do it alone. It was bearable with her, because she took the edge off. She took the edge off of everything, including Cal himself.
It was the last year Gillian ever had to bring Alec, the last year to be relieved that he'd actually shown up at all. When they arrived together, Gillian looked light-years away from happy, and even though Cal was years away from learning exactly why, he already knew it was Alec's fault. If she were anyone else he would have been angry with her, for making him wait and for leaving him alone for so long with the teeming mass of idiot revelers. Seeing her with Alec, all he wanted to do was save her and protect her. Any anger he felt was transferred completely to her idiot husband, who went straight for the buffet.
Cal approached Gillian, who parked off to the side, closer to the spiked punch.
"You alright, love?" Cal said quietly as he sidled up to her, entering her personal space like it was the most natural thing in the world. She allowed him in, comforted by his closeness and his desire to make sure she was alright before he established anything else. She smiled sadly, revealing everything she was willing to, and told him she was fine.
Cal threw himself into the meet and greet portion of the evening. He was being downright chipper with the clients, and Gillian noticed. She found it a bit odd, and for a while she wondered if he wasn't doing it to mock them. She could tell, though, that there was no anger or contempt hidden behind his actions. He was just...acting.
They found themselves alone at the punch bowl later that night, Cal buzzed on pretending he liked small talk - he really just liked the lying - and Gillian slightly agitated because of it.
"What's the matter?" he asked her, waving a cup of punch away when a server offered it to him. "Am I not being nice enough?"
"You're being too nice." she told him, throwing him a bothered, worried glance. "It's weird."
Cal leaned closer to her, so he could whisper conspiratorially, "I was trying to cheer you up."
"Well I like you the way you normally are." she said, looking out at the rest of the party as Cal rocked back on his heels. "Even if I act like the embarrassed wife when you insult people to their faces. Just be yourself, Cal."
Cal looked at Gillian looking out at the rest of the party. "You might regret saying that."
"It's been five years. I haven't run screaming yet."
"Six, now. It'll be near six years we've been together. Working together, I mean."
"Working." Gillian said in a wry tone, recognizing their professional relationship as another kind of marriage. "Right."
She smiled, but Cal was distracted by her words and by her tone. She only got like this when she'd had a tiff with Alec. It really made Cal wonder what their latest tiff had been about.
New Year's Eve, 2008
As a company, at Emily's insistence, they'd celebrated Christmas instead of the new year, but Cal and Gillian still found a way to have their moment. Worried that she'd feel extra lonely because of her recent divorce - even a bitter one left both sides feeling lonely, and he got the sense that Gillian still loved and missed Alec a great deal - Cal invited her out to dinner, just the two of them. He told her the night was on him, which made her chuckle, because she knew the only credit cards he had said The Lightman Group on the bottom. They drank good wine, ate good food, had good conversation and forgot about work for a few hours. It came up eventually, but only for reminiscing.
"To barely escaping with my life." Cal said as he held up his glass of dessert champagne, his formal toast for the evening.
"And being home in time for Christmas." Gillian added, feeling well fed and relaxed. They both drank, and her sip was more of a gulp. "Do you remember the last time you almost died on a case?"
"You mean...last week? The week before? They all sort of run together these days, I'm afraid."
He was joking, of course. He always remembered the year he almost kissed Gillian Foster on New Year's.
Gillian looked across the table at him. He had that look he got sometimes, the look that enticed her and then frightened her away. What she wanted to say was, I want to get drunk like that tonight. But she always chickened out at the last second.
New Year's Eve, 2009
There was no party held that year, not for the Lightman Group. They'd barely been able to keep from going bankrupt, and they had to cut corners in order to avoid layoffs. The employees understood, but it put additional strain on the already strained relationship between its two owners. Everything felt uncomfortably different, uncomfortably alternative. No bonuses, no year end party to relax and remind one another that everyone that worked there was a living, breathing human being. No quiet moment for Cal and Gillian to steal while the rest of the party went on around them, like a universe around its center, or electrons around their nucleus, depending on how big and important they felt in that quiet moment. They'd been avoiding working together, and their employees weren't sure whether they'd cancelled the party solely to save money or to save everyone from the awkwardness.
Cal sat at home alone, drinking to soul-deep loneliness. Emily was old enough for parties of her own. She didn't want to sit at home and watch television with Dad, she wanted to be over at her friend's house. She was probably getting drunk, but that's all Cal wanted to do anyway, so why should he judge her? At least she was doing it to have fun.
Ria begged Gillian to come out with her and a few of her friends, but Gillian didn't last the whole night. Ria and her friends were all so young, and as much as she wanted to be the kind of woman who wasn't bothered by differences in age, Gillian felt it more that night than ever before. She was severely depressed, but she wasn't ready to admit it. She said good night to Ria with a smile on her face, saying she was just so tired, and she'd see her the following Monday.
When she got home, she stayed up to watch the ball drop in Times Square, and then she cried. It wasn't like that year Alec had abandoned her for his precious cocaine; it wasn't a desperate, angry cry that ripped the night to shreds. It was actually cathartic. A lot of her frustration came out with the tears, and when it was over she felt renewed, like she could face whatever was coming, even if it meant losing everything she knew.
At just past one in the morning, right after Gillian decided to stop feeling sorry for herself and go to bed, her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She saw Cal's name, and her catharsis was near complete.
"Hi." she said softly when she answered the call. She was expecting drunk, but she wasn't expecting how very sorry he would sound.
"Happy new year, love." she heard him say.
"Happy new year, Cal." she replied. And just like that, he was forgiven.
"I'd like to sing to you now." he said, and yes, he was very drunk. "If that's alright."
Gillian could hear him smiling, and she could feel laughter forming in her belly. "I'd like that." she said, smiling as she laid her head back down on her pillow. Then he sang "Auld Lang Syne" to her in the most ridiculous Scottish brogue she'd ever heard, and she laughed so hard she cried again. That was her favorite New Year's cry.
New Year's Eve, 2010
They were bouncing back as a company. This year's party would not be their most extravagant, but everyone remembered how sad last year had been. They were all just so happy to be celebrating at all. There was plenty of alcohol, and everyone had a smile on their face right through the door. Having it at the office made it better, making good memories in a building which often had a tense work atmosphere.
At a quarter to midnight, Cal left a conversation with Emily and her latest boyfriend - she'd actually brought him to the office party, which he had mixed feelings about - to find Gillian. She'd disappeared an hour ago, and he was craving more of their room-crossing glances.
He snuck away, heading straight to her office. The door was open, but the lights were off, and the room was completely empty without her in it. Cal went to his own office, and he found her inside with a drink in her hand, standing at the window behind his desk with her back to the door. He watched her silently from the doorway as she lifted the glass to her lips and tipped her head back, taking a gulp of some classic cocktail, savoring it as she let the glass down, held it in front of her and gazed out at the night.
"It'll be over soon," said Cal, echoing words he'd heard almost a decade ago. "I promise."
She turned and smiled at the sound of his voice. The lights in Cal's office were off too, but the light from the hallway and the glow of the snow outside the windows reflected in her eyes and showed him they were glistening.
"I don't want it to be over." she confessed. She dismissed whatever had gathered in her eyes with a soft chuckle, and took a few slow steps toward his couch. It was still the most comfortable piece of furniture they owned.
"How long were you standing there?" Cal asked, watching her sit and get comfortable, waiting there at the door until she looked up at him, smiled, and touched the cushion next to her.
Gillian shrugged at his question. "Fifteen minutes?"
"Felt like you were gone longer than that." he said, dropping down next to her in a messy heap of limbs. He sighed wistfully, eyebrows slightly raised in an open expression, inviting her to see how much he'd missed her. She regarded him with one of her many veiled expressions, a smile playing at her lips.
"I guess I lost track of time." she said. He could tell by the way she said it, there were multiple meanings hidden in the statement. Cal stared into her eyes, looking for a way inside. Something was weighing heavily on her mind, and the rules they'd set up over the years prevented him from asking what it was.
"You ever notice we always end up together at these things?" said Cal, since the only alternative was keeping it lighthearted. "Away from the crowd?"
Gillian breathed. That's all she had to do sometimes, to draw him closer. The hiding smile showed itself when she nodded a yes.
"You're my buoy." Cal told her, just trying to get more of a reaction. His need was satisfied when her smile widened. Perching his elbow on the back of the couch, Cal rested his temple on his fist and just kept watching her eyes.
"I decided to make a new year's resolution." he said.
"Did you?" said Gillian, with playful emphasis on the did. He was one of those that didn't believe in resolutions, thinking, or in his esteemed opinion knowing, that if a person wanted to do something they'd just do it and not bother with a promise they didn't intend to keep.
"Yeah, I did." said Cal, looking her right in the eye and finally feeling, for the first time in ages, like they used to. They hadn't just sat together, in close proximity, flirting and yet not, in such a long time.
"What's your resolution, Cal?"
"I decided I'm going to be nicer to you this year."
"Really." She said, another question that had a different meaning depending on which syllable had the higher pitch. In this case it was the first. She thought he was joking.
"Yeah. I've been a real...prick." He said the last two words like they tasted bad, laying it on thick for her. He had to, in order to be humble. He had to make it a least partly a joke, to preserve a shred of his pride. Gillian began to nod very slowly, as if she were giving it some deep thought. She made no indication that she was going to deny what he was saying.
"You understand what I'm talking about, then." he said.
"Mmhm."
"Indeed." said Cal, grimacing on the -deed. "I want to be friends again. I want to be best friends. 'Cause when it comes down to it, we're really good together, you and I."
"I agree."
"So it's settled. I'll stop being a right bastard and you just...keep shining like the beautiful star you've always been."
As if to punctuate his statement, Gillian's wry little smirk widened again, so it was a bright, appreciative, wry little smirk. The din outside was growing, and it grew loud enough for them to notice it, even in the intimate world they'd created with each other.
"It's almost time, isn't it?" said Cal, telegraphing his disappointment. Time to leave their special moment and rejoin the rest of the world.
"Sounds like it." Gillian commented, though she sounded just as thrilled about the idea as Cal did. Neither of them made any moves to leave the couch. The longer they lingered, the faster Gillian's heart beat in her chest, and Cal watched as her pulse quickened. He could see it happening with his sixth sense. She wanted to tell him the truth.
"I made a new year's resolution too." said Gillian.
"Oh?" Cal questioned, strangely quieted by Gillian's intense look. She nodded, glancing down at the half-full glass in her hand, and then back at him.
"I decided I'm going to be more honest with you. About my feelings."
Cal felt his soul stir before she even began explaining herself. He stayed absolutely silent, suddenly terrified that any comment, serious or funny, would ruin it.
"I want to be more than friends." she told him, her heart pounding now. "More than best friends."
Almost involuntarily, Cal's free hand reached out to rest gently on her knee, trying to calm her nerves and give his answer to her question before she had to ask it. But she had to ask it. Saying the words was important to her, that much was clear.
"I was staring out that window, thinking about all the times I've almost lost you. Or you've almost lost me. It's happened way too often the past few years."
Cal's brow furrowed, tense at the thought that his reckless behavior caused her pain. I'm sorry, it said. I'm so sorry. Gillian didn't need an apology, however. She was beyond forgiveness and apologies. When they were alone together and on the same page, those were automatic and assumed.
"I don't want to go back out there just because that's what we're supposed to do." she said, covering the hand on her knee with her own. It was cold from the ice filled glass she'd been holding, and trembling with anticipation. "I want to stay here, with you, and I want you to kiss me, because I can't let another year pass without knowing what it feels like with no one watching us."
Another rise from the crowd outside; the countdown had begun. Cal couldn't think of anything to say that would be better than just kissing her already, so he slipped his hand out from under hers, placing his palm instead under her ear, where her jaw line met her neck. His thumb softly stroked her cheek, and he took one more moment to study her face because it was something he would never, ever get tired of doing. The party reached ten, and then nine, and then eight. Her guard was down. She looked relieved. He leaned in.
"Wait." she whispered suddenly, and Cal stopped his advance. The countdown wasn't over yet. Cal waited patiently, smiling at her need to follow a rule even as they broke all the others. She smiled back. The crowd got louder and louder the closer they got to zero, and when midnight finally hit, Cal leaned in and pressed their lips together, tangling his hand in her hair as she wrapped both her arms around his neck. She made out with him desperately as the party outside celebrated. So many people, so excited just for one digit on the calendar. All Cal and Gillian cared about was each other.
Their first kiss, a hundred kisses in one, slowed to a stop when the singing ended, and it was just a muffled din of people laughing and talking outside. Cal and Gillian held on to one another, and they searched each other's eyes to make sure they were doing the right thing. Both found the answer they were looking for.
"Happy new year, Gill." Cal said, with the feeling it would be the happiest ever if he could just keep his resolution.
"Happy new year." Gillian echoed, knowing they could keep their resolutions as long as they held each other to them.