A STOLEN KISS

Written for the New Year Challenge on Beautiful Coincidences. There's a nod to my darling Sarah -you know what it is- and Office Politics. Read and review OP, everyone! (: Happy New Year 2008!

He found her when he went past the French doors in hopes of sneaking a smoke. That hope withered and died as he saw her, for she was better than nicotine and tar.

They were his addiction; she—his obsession. He brushed an absent-minded hand over his hair and called out, rolling the glass in his hand. “Champagne?”

She winced with defiant embarrassment upon looking up from her bare feet to meet his gaze, and then the rest of him, which was leaning with negligent grace against the wall. He quelled the involuntary skitter of excitement down his spine and arched a dispassionate eyebrow at her. “Tired of the party scene already?”

“Don’t ask,” She muttered, and told him anyway, as she gestured at her feet and the pair of red stilettos lying disconsolately on their side next to them. “Broken heel. Danced too much.”

He bent down to gaze deliberately at them, straightening with eyes filled with mock reproof; although he knew she would mistake them for the real product. “Serves you right for wearing chopsticks for dancing.”

“Shut up.” She glared at him; even though it was dark, he could see the glint in her eyes, and knew what it meant to. “You try being eight inches shorter than your height. Come and rebuke me then if you’d manage to fight the temptation of wearing heels.”

“Of course I’ll be able to fight it,” he countered easily, a smile creeping across his face. That was the only thing comfortable between them—their banter. “You don’t see me twirling about in red and going by a female name now, do you?”

“Jerk,” she muttered without heat as he came to stand beside her. She was quiet for a moment, then: “Why did we never get together?”

He blinked, and choked on his drink quietly, thankful that it was dark. Thankful that she couldn’t see his face. “I beg your pardon?”

“Why didn’t we get together? We’ve always been friends and nothing more.” Her face was turned away from his, so he couldn’t sneak a peek at her expression. He tamped down on the rusty feeling of hope. Her fingers traced the contours of the balcony railing as she went on. “Well, I knew my reason for never letting it get too far. You’re a butterfly. Always so charming, and so nice. I prefer my men with a lot more broodiness and a lot less chattiness.”

He didn’t know whether to feel offended or amused. “You forgot something. Didn’t you always say your men have to have Harry Potter’s green eyes and Tom Felton’s full-bodied hotness?”

“Oh, yeah. There is that.” She chuckled beneath her breath and turned, just as the moon peeped from behind clouds. “But I’ve decided.”

The low rumble of people counting down in the background buzzed at his ears. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six…

“What? What is it? That, uh, you’ve decided?” He managed, trying not to notice the way moonlight had highlighted her cheekbones. Her arms curving around him in the next moment had him forgetting what it was that he was trying not to notice. “I’ve decided that my resolution for the New Year…”

Two, one!

He lost his breath as she tiptoed in her bare feet to steal a kiss from his lips, murmuring words against them. “… Is that I’m going to fall for one man, and he only, as a whole. Happy New Year, Teddy.”

“H-Happy New Year, H—” He gasped, too impatient to finish his sentence and went back for more.