"The flames of Love extinguished,
and fully past and gone:
Is thy sweet Heart now grown so cold,
that loving Breast of thine;
That thou canst never once reflect
on Old long syne."- Old Long Syne James Watson
Dean wasn't surprised when the door behind him opened and Jaimie stepped onto Ty's deck with two glasses of champagne, even though they'd been doing a pretty damn good job ignoring each other all through Ty and Melissa's New Years Eve party, had been doing a pretty fucking good job ignoring each other for months, ever since her boyfriend left and whatever was going to happen between the two of them didn't exactly happen.
He tried not to stare at her bare legs under her lacy little black cocktail dress, at the way it hugged the curves of her body, tried not to stare at her tits and her ass, as she sat on the top step next to him, offering him one of the glasses.
He held up the bottle of beer he'd been nursing. "I'm good."
She shrugged, setting it behind them. "You think it's true what they say," she started, like they were in the middle of some damn conversation already, "that the way you spend New Year's Eve is how you'll spend the year?"
He shook his head. "Never really thought about it."
She bit her lip. "So how do you usually spend it?"
"Working, sleeping with whatever random lonely chick I pick up in a bar."
She smiled, and even when it wasn't a real smile, she still had the best damn smile he'd ever seen.
"What about you?" he asked softly.
She took a sip of champagne before answering, and somehow that made her soft, pink lips look even more inviting. "I was usually too strung out to even know it was New Years." She paused. "So I guess if we're the test group it probably is true, huh?"
He looked away from her. "Make any resolutions?"
"I don't really believe in them."
He chuckled softly. "The queen of reinvention doesn't believe in resolutions?"
"I think you have to change things because you can't go on the way things are, not because you looked at a calendar and felt guilty."
He finished his beer. "You're the expert."
She picked up the extra champagne glass and handed it to him. She raised her own glass, clinking them together.
"Happy New Year, Dean," she murmured.
"Happy New Year, sweetheart." He looked at her over the top of the glass. "Maybe in 2010 we'll finally get our shit together."
"Maybe," she agreed.
She leaned forward slowly, kissing him as the voices from inside the party started counting down to midnight.
"That's my insurance," she said softly when she pulled back.
"Insurance?" he asked.
She nodded. "You know, in case it's true, and whatever you're doing at midnight ends up being how you spend the year."
He grinned at her. "You should have warned me, I would have made sure we were fucking."
Jaimie looked back towards the house, watching the partygoers celebrate.
"It might still be close enough to midnight," she said. "We could sneak it in under the wire."
He tucked one pretty little blonde curl behind her ear. "We actually doing this this time?"
She stared at him. "I think we've gone to far to go back, don't you?" She drained her champagne glass. "Whatever happens now, we can't go back."
He nodded, taking her empty glass and pulling her into his arms. "Then 2010's gonna be a hell of ride."