A/N: Set between seasons 6 and 7. / Filled for a prompt: New Years kiss, 500 words or less, no overthinking; I couldn't help myself and added a part 2. xx

The New Years' party had started the same as always at the office, with plenty of mindless chatter, mediocre baked goods, and people seemingly "enjoying themselves"...Russell hated it. If his name hadn't been on the building, he wouldn't have bothered showing up. His time would have been better spent at happy hour, where the real party was happening...the one with the young women who'd been drinking just enough to find the prospect of making him their New Years' lay appetizing.

The flask hidden securely in his jacket was the only thing helping, and he took another swig, savoring the sting against his throat. God, he really needed to get drunk after this.

Everybody was so ridiculously happy.

The office couples were the worst of the lot, looking at their watches every few minutes in anticipation of that midnight kiss. Three minutes to go...three stupid minutes until the countdown.

And he was alone.

That's when it happened. The first trickle of a stupid, inconceivable thought: Where is he?

"What? Why?" Having asked the question out loud, a random straggler stopped behind him; he brushed the woman away with a scowl.

You know why. Russell looked around for the source of the voice in his head, and, realizing it was his own, groused a bit, taking another swig of much needed alcohol.

Two minutes; he was growing antsy. He stared at his own watch now, blindly, as if in anticipation of something...somehow the seconds had blurred away as he made his way towards his office door, escaping the crowd who began counting down.

"Five...four...!"

The words echoed in his head: Where the hell is he? As if he was supposed to be here with him right now, as if it mattered at all.

"Three...!"

He just had some crap for him to do, y'know? Work stuff.

"Two...!"

The world didn't stop for another planetary rotation and some assholes kissing.

"One!"

Russell opened his office door to find two figures leaning against his desk; lips locked. A soft kiss, appearing sincere and full of all the romance this night was meant to embody; the very thing he'd entered his office to escape.

He'd been seen, and the couple broke, the woman brushing hair from her face bashfully as she coyly touched the face of her New Years' kiss before sneaking out past Russell.

Timmy met eyes with Russell briefly before aiming to leave as well, but was stopped by an arm across the door.

"Who was that?"

Russell's voice was strangely accusatory, and Timmy paused, taken aback. "Janet. Accounting. Recently unattached, she...needed someone. I was here, so..." He lowered Russell's arm, moving a touch slower as he eyed Russell carefully.

Timmy turned back. "Are you alright, sir?"

They stood in such close proximity that it made the air thick...warm; Russell's breath caught.

"Uh...yeah." He shook his flask. "My date. Go get your chick."

Timmy left...hesitantly. Russell retreated to his desk...and drank.

And wondered.