Title: New Year's Celebrations
Rating: G
Disclaimers: all standard ones apply
Notes: A (very) short one-shot ficlet I wrote as a Christmas present for a friend -- she knows who she is. I hope she likes it. It'll be posted here and on her livejournal, which is called: s u p e r.nova.g i r l s This was skimmed by a friend who knows nothing of the fandom -- any mistakes are mine.
Summary: short ficlet, is present for a friend, PZ/Z
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Zenon Kar stared out the enforced-glass window of the space station to the planet that it was orbiting and sighed. The Yuletide celebrations had just passed for the occupants of the station and it was now New Year's Eve. On Earth, she knew, people were celebrating with champagne and friends, partying as the 'big ball' dropped in Rockefeller Center, an ancient tradition where the old year was officially over when it came in contact with the frozen ground. Then the even more ancient tradition of a kiss at midnight would begin, men and women alike bundled up against the cold weather if they were outside or glammed up if they were at an inside party. Some lucky couples at home, cozy and warm as they shared multiple kisses on the annual night of the end.
There were parties going on all over the station, some of which Zenon had been invited to. Some people trying to remain true to their roots and traditions while others just wanted the excuse to lighten up and party. Zenon had turned down the invitations, instead sitting alone in an out-of-the-way area of the space station. Alone.
It wasn't completely unusual, much of Earth's old practices of holidays almost entirely foreign to the blonde except in family vids and the few traditions that her parents had been able to incorporate to life on the space station. She knew what she read in books as well. It just never seemed important to her. She'd always been content to remain mostly ignorant in the somewhat sterile confines of her home, the parties welcome but not having any real sense of meaning to her.
Sterile? Since when was the station sterile? It was home. She knew the answer, though. Ever since she'd been to Earth, really been to Earth, and discovered that it wasn't all bad.
None of which helped her right now. Her entire current existence of melancholy boiled down to one thing: she had no one to kiss.
"One minute to go! Fifty-nine...fifty-eight...fifty seven..."
The countdown rang out over the loudspeakers, reaching every corner of the station. Zenon could almost hear some of the people that were located throughout excitedly draw in their breaths.
"Forty-five...forty-four..."
The music that could be heard echoing from the main party in the cafeteria and the smaller parties scattered through personal quarters was turned down slightly and the large vidscreen turned up so that people could see the glittery ball making its' descent.
The almost surreal quality in the filtered air was abruptly shattered by the pounding of boots through the hall and Zenon's eyes were drawn away from the planet below to see what had disturbed her. The sight before her immediately caused her to stand up.
"There you are!" The slightly breathless but satisfied British accent drawled as hands were stuffed in pants pockets and a grin graced well-known features.
"Protozoa? What are you doing here? You should be at the Manor! Microbe Manor always throws the biggest parties!"
"Party's goin' on, love."
"You mean a party is going on withoutProtozoa there?"
"Yeah," he nodded before explaining: "wanted to be somewhere else."
"Oh," Zenon said quietly, almost under her breath. "Where?"
"Where do you think?"
"But..."
Protozoa stepped forward and put a finger to her unglossed lips. "Now's not the time for questions," he chided.
"Six...five...four..."
"Happy New Year's, love," he murmured before his lips descended on her own.
The sentiment rang throughout the space station with loud cheers, though both blondes were oblivious.
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The End
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I hope everyone had/will have a nice holiday!