A bonus New Year's Snippet! I couldn't just leave you all hanging. Happy New Year to you all, in whatever time zone you may be.
It's No-Leave Eve.
The NYPD begins strategizing and allocating resources for New Year's Eve beginning at nine o'clock on January 1st, three hundred and sixty four days in advance, to ensure there are no gaps in coverage of patrols or chains of command. The only cops not on duty overnight are those who just worked a full day shift, are already out sick or are high enough in the officer ranks that they have offices to shut down and staff to send home. Everyone else is out on the streets and the trains or staffing the offices. Even Frank Reagan is watching from his eyrie in the One PP, until two or three in the morning, with Garrett keeping him company in case there's a sudden need for the sort of media release nobody else wants to think about.
As far as assignments go, Eddie thinks, they seriously lucked out this year. Even though she and Jamie are not supposed to be partnered up, it was generally agreed that they'd be far less conspicuous as a couple, than as single adults staring at the crowd all night.
They have the good fortune to be in plainclothes, too. Given their recent exposure at the Montauk New Music Festival, neither Renzulli nor the Undercover unit is taking many risks with them as potential tourist photo targets. They're just a slightly dressed-up couple among thousands, hanging out at the edge of the crowd, occasionally walking up and down the street to keep warm, or standing up on benches and ledges and things to get a better view. They just happen to have two weapons and two pairs of cuffs apiece on them, Kevlar vests keeping them warm, and earpiece radios under their winter hats, instead of shoulder mikes.
They've been assigned an area near Rockefeller Center, between Fifth and Sixth Avenue. It's just as crowded as the dreaded Times Square patrol, a few blocks away, but at least people are moving steadily here, circling the great Christmas tree in the square. There are more families here, rather than groups of friends planning to party and watch the ball drop. People here haven't been corralled within gated sections since morning, as they have been in Times Square, and they're rather more friendly as a result.
It's been pretty peaceful, so far. She's spent a good half hour trying to teach Jamie to pronounce "Srećna nova godina" properly, to greet her mother with when they drive out to Katonah tomorrow afternoon. They've intervened on three possible fights without even having to identify themselves as NYPD, and have quietly had a half dozen of the more violently drunk revellers picked up to ring in the new year from the Tank. Mostly they're there to watch the crowd and surrounding area for thefts, medical distress, crowds turning surly, or, in the wake of the past years' recordbreaking mass shootings, any gunfire from the tall buildings surrounding them.
Jamie takes her gloved hand in his, as they stand together across the street from the tree. Despite the harsh reality behind their presence there, or maybe because of it, it's a magical view: a few thousand people from all the countries of the world, happily sharing in light and warmth, complete with real, proper snow coming down for the last hour or so.
Someone starts counting down at one hundred seconds from midnight. It doesn't take long for the crowd to join in, circles of excitement spreading like ripples across a pond. A few noisemakers and poppers go off prematurely. Little kids who had fallen asleep in strollers or carriers wake up confused and disoriented, but they soon catch the spirit of the thing. There's a lot of hugging going on.
Eddie looks up at the tree, a little misty-eyed. She's been living in Manhattan for ten years now, and except for her first Christmas here, she's tended to avoid the seasonal tourist stops. This winter has broadsided her in more ways than one, cracked her open a little so she could grow again. Being here with the man she loves is a gift she didn't think she would ever feel she deserved, but here they are, together, with no secrets between them. Only stories to tell, and a lifetime of stories to gather.
The crowd reaches the minute mark, and the volume cranks up further. Jamie's hand tightens slightly on hers, and she glances over at him. His eyes are calm as they usually are, steady on hers, but she knows that flicker that belies his deadpan expression. You just have to know where to look, she thinks.
She realizes he's both excited and nervous, shifting his feet. Ohh…he's not going to, is he? He wouldn't really? No, he avoids public drama, even if it wasn't miles too soon, and there are hours to go before they're off duty, anyway. What, then?
With a smooth tug of her hand, he pulls her into a graceful spin that lands her within the circle of his arms, her back to his front. She giggles as his cold nose finds her earlobe, and he laughs with her, dancing them side to side a little.
Forty seconds.
"Eddie, listen."
At the tone of his voice in her non-radio ear, she stops giggling and starts listening in a hurry.
"I already know what you mean to me. I know it's you I want to be with. But we're just getting started, and next year's already looking like a hell of a ride. We're gonna have plenty to deal with just keeping each other flying straight. So what d'you say, New Year's Eve next year, right at midnight, wherever we are and whatever we're doing, let's – let's decide then if we want to make it official, or give it another year. Whatever's best for us."
Ten seconds.
Her breath stops, choked on a wave of piercing happiness she never saw coming. She turns in his arms and looks up at him, feeling actual stars dancing in her actual eyes. Jamie looks at her through those killer lashes, as sweet and serious and terribly earnest as ever, and so giddy in love with her she doesn't know how to process it. Trust him to find a practical and sensible way to sweep her off her feet.
Five seconds. The crowd is near hysterics. She slides her two hands up behind his neck and stands on tiptoe to kiss him, because she really can't speak.
One!
He braces a strong arm around her shoulders, dipping her like a Silver Screen queen, and kisses her back like her very own leading man, his lips warm on hers, then oh my, his tongue, plundering her mouth hungrily. He's not one to go that far in public, and definitely not on duty, and it's pretty damn hot. She feels drifting snowflakes tickling her face, and smiles, and concentrates on kissing him as the crowd roars. Not for them – it's 2018, and everyone around them is grabbing and kissing each other.
But only she's kissing Jameson Reagan, and he's kissing her foggy.
He lets her up, and she gasps a quick laugh and rearranges her hat before burrowing into his arms.
"That was a yes, by the way," she tells him. "In case you were unclear on my signals."
"I think I got most of your signals by now," he assures her.
"It's a very good idea."
"Well, I hoped so."
She takes a deep, mind-clearing breath of the crystal-cold air. "A whole year, huh?" she asks, sliding a sly glance up at him.
"Well, anything can happen. You know there are no absolutes in our job," he grins back.
"I do know. That's why I need you."
"How 'bout that. That's why I need you."
"Happy New Year, partner."
"Happy New Year."