One Minute To Midnight
by JT Langdon
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine. I just took them out for a little spin and made them do naughty things.
One minute to midnight One minute to go One more time to say good-bye Before we say hello Let's start the new year right Twelve o'clock tonight When they dim the light Let's begin Kissing the old year out Kissing the new year in --Irving Berlin
I was never all woohoo about the whole New Year's Eve thing. What's the big deal? So another year has come and gone. There's another one right after it, and there's no reason to think it's gonna suck any less than the one before it. People are still gonna be assholes, there's still gonna be more wrong with the world than there is right with it. And I'm thinking, I should put on a pointy hat, grab a party favor, and celebrate the kickoff of another three hundred and sixty-five shitty days? Yeah, right. Not falling for that crap.
But I'm kinda looking at things different now. Maybe it's because we really came close to not having any more new years to celebrate. Or maybe it's because this is the first time in a while I'm not starting off the new year in a little box courtesy of the California Department of Corrections. Yeah, that could be it. But I know better. This whole new positive outlook thing I got going is because of her . . . because of B.
I watch her bounce around our apartment playing hostess, making sure no one has an empty glass, making sure none of the bowls of chips is getting too shallow. Her friends . . . *our* friends . . . seem to be having a good time, eating, laughing, drinking. It makes her happy, and that's all I care about. Every now and then she will look at me. It doesn't matter where I happen to be, somehow she knows exactly where I'm standing and she'll stop for a moment, stop and glance at me, her eyes meeting mine briefly before she goes back to whatever but in those few moments I get it. I understand why the new year is such a big deal. Because it's a whole nother year I get to be with her, another three hundred and sixty-five mornings I get to wake up next to her.
When no one is looking I sneak off down the hall and go into our bedroom. Still can't believe that. Our bedroom. Hers and mine. How the hell did I get so lucky? Musta been some divine reward for saving the world and shit because I should be living alone on the street right now. Or maybe some cosmic paths got crossed and I'm living the life meant for someone else. Tough luck. I'm not giving it up without a fight.
There is a mound of coats in the middle of our bed. It looks like the donation bin at the Salvation Army. And I'd know, too. But those days are over for me, the days of picking through other people's rejects for a winter coat, the days of having nothing good to look forward to in the next year, the days of being alone. Spent a lot of angry years trying to figure out the answers to life. Had no idea I'd find them all in a blonde slayer with a killer body.
"So this is where you've been hiding."
I turn around, startled. B is leaning against the door frame, head cocked to one side. Shit. Didn't even hear her come down the hall. My slayer senses must be on the fritz. How long has she been standing there, watching me? She looks good, all dressed up for the party, in her slnky red top with the spaghetti straps, the one I got her for Christmas, and tight black denim jeans that show off her curves. I'm still getting used to the new haircut, a little shorter than it used to be, but it looks good on her.
"I'm not hiding," I tell her defensively. "I just came in here to . . ."
"Hide," she says.
I laugh. "Yeah."
When B smiles it seems to light up the bedroom. Or maybe it's all in my head. She moves into the room, closing the door behind her, walking toward me with a swagger in her hips that drives me crazy. I feel my pulse race a litte faster the moment she takes her first step and by the time she is standing in front of me I think I'm gonna have a stroke if my blood doesn't slow down. She slides her hands over my waist then pulls me to her with a jerk and the breath catches in my throat. My skin burns where she's touching me, as if her hands are made of fire.
"It's almost midnight," she tells me.
I sigh, nodding, giving in to her. "Yeah, okay, I'm coming."
"I said *almost*," B whispers, leaning into me.
And then we're kissing, deeply, hungrily, her lips a sweet warmth against mine. I bring my hand up and cup the back of her head, tanlging my fingers in golden hair. She moans into the kiss when my tongue flicks over hers, teasingly, promisingly. We both know we shouldn't, and neither of us care. I back us toward the bed and we fall on top of the mound of coats, laughing at ourselves between kisses, rolling around, trying to get comfortable, unable to, not caring about that, either. Imaptient, frisky hands fumble with my leather pants as we trip over our desire and try to squeeze in one more romp this year. She finally gets my pants open and shoves her hand down the front, knowing I have nothing on under them, finding me wet, wanting her. I moan against her lips as B rubs my slit, working her magic, the pads of two fingers all she needs to make me squirm. My hips arch for her, seeking her out, craving her touch . . . wanting her inside me. B doesn't make me wait for it. She plunges her fingers into me, hard, deep, using her thumb to tease my clit as she fucks me. Her kisses smother the pitiful moans I'd otherwise be making, which is just as well since there's a roomful of people down the hall who don't need to hear what I sound like when I come. I tangle my fingers in her hair again and hold on with a deathgrip as she plunges into me, feeling that familiar tug low in my belly, that place only B can reach. Our kisses are becoming more and more urgent, not to mention necessary, then she rakes her thumbnail over my clit and I groan against her lips, heaving forward a little as my pussy clenches around her fingers.
B keeps her fingers neslted in my slick folds until the last spasms have faded then pulls out of me, making me whimper one last time. When I open my eyes and she is hovering over me like an angel, a lopsided grin on her face.
"Pretty damn proud of yourself, aren't ya?" I smirk.
"Uh huh."
I still have my fingers tangled in her hair and I bring her mouth down to mine, kissing her again, wishing I could kiss her other places. But that's for later, after the party, when our friends and their coats are gone, when it's just the two of us again, me and Buffy, starting a new year together.