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The festivities of the annual Overwatch New Year’s Eve party were going strong at an extravagant ski resort in a remote part of the French Alps. Angela Ziegler, however, was having none of it. When she looked back on the year, all she could see was catastrophic missteps and failures. The people she couldn’t manage to save along the way. The others clearly weren’t as bothered, toasting to the accomplishments of the international peace organization. Very, very loudly.
Angela excused herself for some air. She certainly was not comfortable at the party, and she didn’t want to dampen everyone’s spirits either. After wandering the brilliantly-lit halls, she came upon the large main balcony which overlooked the ski slopes to the east and a large lake on the west, which was currently frozen over and accommodated large numbers of skaters. She was almost sure she could spot Gérard’s wife, Amélie, wowing onlookers with her finesse.
The faint smell of cigarette smoke demanded Angela’s attention, and it was then she realized she wasn’t alone to sigh wistfully on the balcony. Her coworker, and quite frankly, work nemesis, stood on the far side of the balcony taking a smoke break. It almost seemed so perfectly Moira, she thought, to be interrupting the private moment.
She couldn’t help but want to speak to the other woman for the sake of companionship for the night, regardless of how she felt.
“You know, you can come over and talk with me, Moira. I don’t bite,” Angela smiled through her words. The two didn’t get along well in the laboratory, but they weren’t savages; they could handle small talk.
“I am aware that you are not fond of me, however,” Moira pointed out.
She was right, but Angela shrugged and made her way to the center of the balcony anyway. “I could perhaps stand a short conversation with you tonight.”
Moira chuckled silently. “My dear Angela, are you drunk right now?” She nodded toward the woman’s nearly empty champagne glass. “I cannot possibly imagine what else would make you tolerate me to this degree. Much less at a party.”
“Maybe it’s the spirit of the new year, yes? Starting things off on the right foot?” Angela couldn’t even get the phrase out without a small giggle slipping through. “It is just as likely the realization of loneliness setting in. We enter a whole new decade and I worry about not being settled yet. It’s always been career this, Overwatch that. I think… I just wish for companionship.”
A silence settled between the two women.
Angela raised her eyes from her glass to assess Moira. The woman was dressed strikingly, even more so than usual – her flame-red hair was slicked back and she wore a casual suit that was perfectly tailored. Her bowtie was loosened, and she’d undone the top buttons of her shirt. But her eyes, her eyes were Angela’s favorite feature. One blue and one red from her experimentation. They seemed to glitter from the reflections of the holiday lighting. Angela was sure that if she looked too long, she would become hypnotized.
Everything hit her all at once. Moira was exceedingly attractive. She bantered with the woman not because she despised her, but because it was fun to try to get a rise of her. She liked when the two would have late nights in the lab and spend hours huddled over cold takeout and coffee that was far too strong. Angela appreciated the other woman’s company. A lot. Sure, her research methods and internal sense of morals and ethics were not ideal, but Angela’s own were not that far off, concerning her private little endeavors even Moira was unaware of.
“Angela, pray tell, are you staring at me?” Angela was ripped from her epiphany and remembered that Moira was very real and very much right in front of her. And definitely caught her staring.
The smug Moira wore at that moment could probably kill men.
Angela opened her mouth to begin an apology, but was interrupted by the drunk shouting of the remainder of her coworkers – midnight was fast approaching, and they were down to the seconds.
As she listened to the crowd proceed with the countdown, a spur-of-the-moment idea popped into her head.
She left her empty champagne flute on the wooden railing of the balcony and turned to Moira once more. The new year was going to be a revival for Angela – she decided then and there to drop her hesitation. Who’d have ever thought that they’d both be here, on the balcony, tonight? Surely it was some sort of sign. And something had changed between the two in the brief moment they spent together.
As the crowd’s countdown reached the end, Angela looked up at Moira, wide-eyed, and began to ask, “Would you mind if-”
Before she could finish her question, Moira’s lips were on hers, and the world moved in slow motion. Angela reached up to hold Moira’s cheeks, and the other woman rested her hands on Angela’s waist in return. Behind the two, beyond the balcony, celebratory fireworks erupted and cheers could be heard from the ballroom inside.
Angela swore a thousand years had passed by the time they parted.
Moira reached down and gently tucked a stray section of hair behind Angela’s ear and leaned in to whisper, “Happy New Year, a ghrá.”