WHAT ARE YOU DOING NEW YEAR'S EVE?
PRE-SERIES

Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight
When it's exactly twelve o'clock that night
Welcoming in the New Year, New Year's Eve?
-What Are You Doing New Year's Eve? (traditional holiday song)

DECEMBER, 2003

God, she hates the graveyard shift.

Kate tightens her scarf around her neck, attempting to ward off the chill of a sub-freezing patrol. The hot shower she took before leaving the precinct helped, but after the six-block walk to the subway, she's freezing again.

The sun is just peeking over the buildings when she emerges from the station near her Lower East Side apartment, and she squints against the light. According to the forecast, it's supposed to snow later, and she's due back in twelve hours for her next shift. With any luck, she'll get a few hours of sleep before she has to head back.

The snow starts to fall when she's asleep.

She wakes to a thick dusting on the ground, a sight that she would've enjoyed once. Now that she's a cop, though, snow just means cold feet and short tempers as people try to navigate through slick streets.

By the time she arrives at the precinct, there's three inches on the ground, with thick, heavy flakes continuing to come down. She mentally winces when she receives her assignment - patrolling the park isn't exactly how she wants to spend the night - but at least she's paired with Esposito, who's become her friend over the past few months.

They spend most of their shift making laps around the park, and it goes by so slowly that they eventually do sprints to keep warm and pass the time. All she wants when she gets back to the precinct at the end of the shift is a hot shower and sleep, but much to her surprise, she's called into her captain's office and told she needs to cover an afternoon shift.

When she finally gets back to her street late in the afternoon, she's about ready to collapse. She normally has to go around a small park to get to her building, but she decides to cut through and shave off a few minutes.

She's moving on autopilot, vaguely aware of laughter nearby, of the high-pitched squeal of a child and deeper chuckles of a man. She glances to her right, notices a tall, broad man with a snowball in his hand, chasing a girl, red hair peeking out of the bottom of her beanie.

Kate smiles at their antics, at the girl ducking behind a tree, making the man's snowball miss.

"You can't hide from me, Alexis!" he calls out, pausing and leaning forward with his hands on his knees.

Kate turns towards her street, is almost to the edge of the park when something hits her in the back.

"Oh my God!"

She turns to find the man and girl - Alexis, apparently - the man with his hand over his mouth in shock, the girl's cheeks almost as red as her hair.

"I am so sorry," the man says, holding out his hands with his palms out. "Alexis ducked, but I'd already thrown, and-" He lowers his hands. "It sailed wide."

Kate twists to look at her back, notices the snow all over her coat, and breaks.

Maybe it's the 18-hour shift, or the weight of her mom's case, of the seasonal reminder of the upcoming anniversary of the worst day of her life. But what starts as an involuntary giggle quickly turns into laughter, and soon, all three of them are doubled over.

Eventually, she swipes her hands across her cheeks, wiping away the tears that fell, and she straightens up and tugs her hat back over her ears.

"I really am sorry," the man says once his chuckles subside.

She shrugs. "Don't worry about it. I've had worse things thrown at me than a wayward snowball," she assures him with a smile.

A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Still, buy you a coffee to make up for it?" He jerks his head towards the opposite side of the park. "Bean There Done That's still open."

Kate hesitates. It's tempting, this opportunity to delay her return to her dark, depressing apartment. And coffee is always welcome.

Now that she's standing still, though, she realizes how heavy her legs feel, how her back aches after hours on her feet. She offers a grateful smile and shakes her head. "Thanks, but I should get going."

The man nods, but his eyes flash with disappointment. "Another time, maybe," he suggests.

"Maybe." She nods at them both. "Good night."

"Good night. And Happy New Year."

They stand there as she walks away, and she lets her muscle memory take her back to her building.

It is New Year's, she realizes when she turns on her TV and notices the coverage of celebrations all over the world. She makes herself a cup of hot chocolate and heats up leftover pizza, and she settles on her couch, the earlier encounter bringing a smile to her face even as she drifts off to sleep.

A/N: Credit to the Creative Writing Prompts Tumblr for the meet cute prompt "accidentally hitting the other one with a snowball meant for their friend" (found on their Meet Cute master list)