the dwindling moments of 2021 tick down with a smear of crimson thumbed across national city’s skyline. sam’s cape & the red defender are a tandem flurry of fisticuffs to thrust up against the creature taking the holiday by storm. electric-neon tendrils light up the sawtoothed silhouette of buildings scraping the underbelly of the night horizon. they’re whip-tailed & lashing, reaching out between the spiraling effort of superwoman twisting away to offer twin bolts of heat to split open its alien skin while red defender trades pummeling blows.
the ball in the center square glimmers, reflective not just of the moon’s silver slanting but also of the fiery battle commencing up overhead. television commentators duck ; participants cower.
it’s only when the last, consciousness-ending blow slams to the creature’s crown that sam lets her boots drift down so that she can stand aside nicole. the crowd, so quickly recovered from what is a common extranormal occurrence, already chants the last thirty seconds of the year one number at a time.
they’re down to TEN by the time she speaks.
“ ---- one last save for the year, ” sam’s smile tucks wry at the pin of her cheek. her elbow nudges up against nicole’s flank, a familiar & intimately coy gesture. “ got time for one last kiss? ” the sly slink of her gaze under fanned lashes is genuine.
sam doesn’t wait, just leans across to journey nicole’s jaw up toward her. as the last chiming cry of the countdown resounds between alleys & brownstones, she presses her lips over nicole’s in a way that only has resolutions for the things that are to come.
“ happy new year, baby, ” she murmurs into the kiss. the twinkling ball tumbles on its raucous, cheered-on descent. confetti erupts into the canopy of velvet dark mottled with the pallor of city streetlights. sam’s eyes crinkle at the corner & her thumb is soft against nicole’s mouth. “ next year, let’s try to ring it in with champagne & bad movies. deal? ”
