JJ moved out of the apartment she shared with her roommates a few months ago. She could afford more space, she said, so why not have it? I get the feeling this is the last New Year’s Eve people in the office will share together. Garcia told me before we left on December thirtieth that she’s going to be sneaking out thirty minutes earlier and to make sure Morgan is distracted when she does. Prentiss seems to be coming along because the rest of us are. I get the feeling Morgan might dip out earlier too, since he’s been talking about some yacht party his friend has an in with.

            I realize I need actual friends, since it seems like I’m staying in DC for at least the next year. During that time, I’ll get PhD applications together, or something. Figure out where I’m going next. Even in the new apartment, I’m out of new ways to get to work. The path is too familiar.

            Getting to JJ’s apartment takes too long and I’m freezing. This year, the dress code was festive cocktail, and JJ basically told us all the expectation is sequins and sparkle. Maybe people don’t want to come because the dress code is so flashy for a cramped apartment with coworkers. Maybe, like me, these people don’t really have private relationships outside of work.

            When I get buzzed in, I huddle against myself in the elevator.

            I feel ridiculous. My arms are cold. I never wear red since I think it’s a bit much. I’m trying to convince myself that the colour is deep enough that it’s fine. The colour of a pomegranate. Really, I hate those more than the pants, a flashy black and silver sequin mess. Honestly, they are cute, even if I will never wear them again.

            JJ opens the door to the apartment. She’s wearing a black shirt with feathers and velvet pants. What I’m wearing seems appropriate.

            “You made it,” she smiles at me.

            I step inside after her. I didn’t want the hassle of searching for my jacket like last year. No cabs were available, so I took the subway and walked, and it was terrible. I clench my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering as JJ brings me to the dining room table.

            Tonight, I only brought a flask, and I’m only letting myself drink mixed drinks from it. I’m pacing myself. People are chatting, laughing, the music playing. A few people are already dancing, which didn’t happen until much later into the evening last time. Although, I suppose that I showed up later too.

            “The team is probably in that corner,” JJ points out. “Pour yourself a drink and then come meet us!”

            “Okay,” I have to talk loudly to get her to hear me. Some of the noise is coming from an adjacent apartment I think. That, or the beat to this song is really fucking weird.

            I do make a drink, but when I try to find out where the team is, I get mixed up in the crowd. It’s getting hot in here. I snake my way along the walls, and I’m sure that none of them are here. I have a drink, and then another. Whatever lights JJ’s friends brought to illuminate this place with a variety of colours, and mixed in with the colourful outfits and sparkling clothing, I feel a headache coming on.

            “Bouchard!”

            I turn my head.

            Reid’s head peeks out from above the crowd. I stick up my hand to wave at him. It’s difficult, but I push my way through the crowd of girls who are blocking my way. With him are all the others.

            “My shot friend!” Morgan laughs, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me into him tightly.

            I put a hand on his chest, “yeah, not tonight. I’m getting old like you.”

            UCR and NCVS data from the last year will all be updated as of midnight. I need to do some serious research into postgraduate programs. New Year’s Eve is only remarkable now that I’m here because it means I have to buy a new paper calendar for my desk.

            “Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me,” Morgan laughs. He raises his glass. “I’ll be back with another.”

            He disappears into the crowd. I get to see hello to everyone. We’ve already talked about our Christmas holidays while in the office in the few days between Christmas and now. I said having my siblings up was fine, mentioned the wedding is set, nothing special. No one else seems to have many remarkable things.

            Prentiss is interrogating Garcia about some man she’s allegedly seeing, and Garcia is holding up her drink to her face trying to block Prentiss’ view.

            “You profilers never know when to stop,” she laughs. Then, she looks at me. “You put up with them all day?”

            “She barely tolerates us,” Reid decides. “Pretty openly, in fact.”

            He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. I try my best to make myself scowl, but I’m not sure how it works.

            “Nah, that’s just you,” Morgan returns, holding two shot glasses carefully in one of his hands. “She loves me.”

            I sigh. We take them together, Morgan watching me the whole time. I need to figure out a better excuse, or at the very least, I need to get better at tossing shots over my shoulder.

            As people get drunker, myself included, they start to dance more. Not just seating to songs , but full belting out choruses. I get used to all the crazy lights in here. They dot my skin, joining the soft freckles on my arms and chest. It could be the dim lighting or my lack of eye drops, but things start to get blurry. My memory holds though. It’s fun, even as people start to slip out of the party early. Prentiss has to go. Garcia tries to sneak out and Morgan tries to make her stay. They aren’t arguing, but I don’t want either of them to rope me into their drama. It’s getting closer and closer to midnight. It’s so hot in here that my knees feel sweaty. The sequin pants are heavy, hot, even though my arms are exposed.

            So, I walk onto the balcony. There are a few smokers out there too, and I hover nearby, sipping on my third drink. It’s been two hours, and that feels appropriate at the very least. Finally, a basket sober might.

            Behind me, I hear the door open. The music floods out of the apartment behind me. I turn my head just as it closes. Reid looks at me, a smile twitching into his face for a second.

            “Garcia snuck out eventually,” he offers.

            I turn to face him, my elbows leaning against the railing. It’s not as cold as it was last year. There is snow falling, but it melts before it can accumulate on the ground. I’ve only been out here for a minute, and already, I can barely feel the prickle of the chill on my skin. I’m still sweating. I can feel a drop on my forehead.

            “Good for her,” I manage.

            I tuck hair behind my ear, wiping away some sweat as I do. God, I must smell like the beer and bodies that fill the apartment. All the same, it doesn’t feel that bad. Over top of myself, I can’t really smell Reid. It’s a bit like he isn’t there at all.

            “Aren’t you cold?” he asks.

            I shrug, “no.”

            “Why are you lying?” he asks.

            “Well,” I gesture toward him, “you don’t have a nice jacket for me to borrow, so why bother complaining?”

            He smiles at me. I scooch over so we can slide in next to each other, besides the group of smokers tucked on the other side. At the very least, JJ’s old place has a long balcony. You could barely squeeze two people and a plant on the one Estelle and I share.

            Reid’s outfit is just as silly as mine, I think. He’s got on grey dress pants, which are definitely normal, but his sparkling sky-blue button-up is very different for him.

            He looks down at his shirt, “JJ picked it out.”

            “You should come into the office wearing this,” I tell him. “Give the administrative assistants something to talk about at least.”

            Reid furrows his brow, as if really thinking about it. I stare at him, wide-eyed, before I break into a smile. I elbow him, playfully, “I’m kidding, Reid.”

            “Oh,” he manages, the beginning of a laugh leaving his lips. “I should have assumed.”

            I look back in at the party. We should go back inside. The last of the smokers is finishing their cigarette though, and I’d rather breathe in a bit of actually fresh air before heading inside. I take a sip of my drink, feeling it burn. This is the last of it, at the very least.

            “Get any magic practice in?” Reid asks.

            I try not to choke on the liquor. He has that crooked smile of his, the one he always makes when he thinks he’s funny. I mean, he is funny. I’d just rather he didn’t think it.

            “Maybe that’ll be one of my twelve New Year’s resolutions,” I smile.

            Reid shakes his head, “you haven’t come up with yours already?”

            “Not all of us can be as prepared as the Great Dr. Reid,” I scrunch my nose at him.

            He smiles at me, full teeth. There isn’t anything shy about it. I can feel something hot in my chest, something that isn’t the alcohol. I swallow it, trying to force myself to think that it is the beginning of heartburn.

            “Did you have one at all last year?” he asks.

            I shake my head, “I don’t really see the point. I mean, I have goals. I just don’t really feel the need to tie them to calendar years. Usually, if I want to make something happen, I start doing it in the moment.”

            He furrows his brow.

            I laugh, “I mean, I don’t need a year to figure out how not to insult my coworkers.”

            Reid blinks once, and then joins in on my laughter. The smokers shuffle off the balcony behind us, opening the door once and then closing it behind them. The smell of them lingers, but their heat doesn’t. Now, it’s just the two of us and the noise of the apartment behind us. I’m starting to get cold. At the same time, I don’t want to go inside. In fact, the idea feels kind of unbearable.

            I’m not used to wanting to stay where I am.

            “I figured it out though, didn’t I?” Reid says. I look back at him, “my resolutions, I mean.”

            His smile starts to fade. My eyes meet his, looking for some sort of answer to his question. While yes, he has mitigated insulting me and limited correcting me unless I ask for help, that doesn’t feel like a complete picture of our relationship. The past year feels so long. From his kidnapping, to Garcia’s assault, there has been so much. There have been so many little things too, like late nights in the office looking over code, and the diner we visited after the gala, still in our fancy outfits. Patches collected by tourists and backyard barbeque and talks at Georgetown.

            When I first moved to Australia, I stopped measuring in distance. The miles and miles between my siblings and I weren’t as important anymore. The space between Australia and the US didn’t feel all that much larger than the space between the US and England. It was the time that felt different. We weren’t just ten thousand miles apart, but fourteen hours worth of time zones away. I only felt five hours of time zones apart in England, a certainly different distance albeit still a separation.

            Physically, Reid and I have been close to each other. Across a bullpen, on a few cases together. Not actually all that close, however, given how much of the job he spends travelling. Time-wise, I was closer to him this year than I think any other person. So many memories together.

            “What are you thinking about?” Reid asks.

            I blink a few times, “dry eyes. Just trying to focus, I guess.”

            My arms are so cold they are burning now. I turn back to the city before us, and I lean against the metal balcony. It’s so icy it’s actually numbing.

            “I should start carrying eye drops,” he mumbles to himself.

            I glance at him, as he sticks a hand in his pocket. As if he wouldn’t know if it was there, with his perfect memory. He felt the need to check anyway. He looks back at me, before joining me. He bends over much more than eye do, so we are practically at eye-level. It is still strange seeing him at this height.

            “The metal is so cold,” he winces, looking at it. “You must be freezing.”

            I shrug. I don’t want to go back inside. Something rolls down my cheek. It’s a tear, not sweat this time. I wipe it away quickly, turning my head, hoping he doesn’t notice.

            “Are you okay?” I can feel how he leans in closer. He’s not touching me, but I can feel him hovering, the static on his clothes, or maybe the pulse in his skin. Something reaching out to me in the cold night.

            “Yeah,” I manage, blinking back the next tear that comes. I wipe it too, still not able to look back at him. “It’s just the cold.”

            “Bouchard,” he manages. He stops for a second. I can feel him backing away. “Colette.”

            I spin around. There he is, still. As close to me as he has been all year. Closer even.

            “I think I’m just not used to wanting to stay somewhere,” I blink. He’s actually blurry now from the tears. I wipe them away. “Sorry, that’s so lame. We should be having fun.”

            Reid reaches forward. He rests his hand on mine on the railing, “I mean… I don’t mind. I like to spend time with you, even when you're sad at a party. I think even during Mardi Gras, when I wasn’t really myself and I yelled at you for doing something I would’ve done. Actually, I think I even like fighting with you.”

             Inside, I hear the music cut. Someone shouts the number ten.

            “Reid, I…” the words get lost in my head.

He’s particular about touching people’s hands. I did it once, last New Year’s Eve. I had my hand on his back when Garcia was shot. It’s hard to think with his hand on mine. It’s hard to think with my body so icy and my chest burning. None of it works well in my head.

They’re counting down. Eight. Seven. Six.

“I like fighting with you too,” I tell him.

Three. Two.

We’re the closest we’ve ever been, but not close enough.

One.

People start to shout.

“Happy New Year,” I manage.

He pulls his hand away, “Happy New Year.”

~~~~~

Urgh this is absolutely brutal. The formatting is all wrong because my computer broke, and it's like two hours late, but do enjoy. The slow burn is killer urgh! What do you think? Which New Year's Eve balcony scene takes the cake?