(no subject)
New Year's Eve
SnowWhite22
Type: General, romance, fluff, pre-series
Rating: G
Characters: Michael, Sara, original character
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Prison Break or these characters. I just move them around like Barbie Dolls
Summary: New Year's Eve, 1998. Michael enjoys the end of the year at a busy club in Chicago
Author's Note: It's been months since I've written any fic. Just dipping my toe back in the waters.
December 31, 1998
11:45 pm.
The music was fast-paced and intoxicating. It pulsated around the crowded club, seeping out into the street, and drowned out the end of 1998. Michael took a long sip of vodka and soda and scanned the room. Young bodies were shoved together on to a dance floor that swallowed most of the club’s floor space. He preferred the dark corner at the end of the bar, his fingers idly tapping out the rhythm of the thumping music, and observing his very drunk friend weave his way around the floor.
Dylan tripped over a couple dancing and made his way to the bar. “Shot of Patron and another vodka for the only sober man in the room here.” He clapped a heavy hand over Michael’s shoulder. “Told you it was a good idea to come here. The perfect way to ring in 1999.”
“You did.” Michael raised an eyebrow and nodded to the dance floor. “How’d you make out with the sorority girl?”
“Which one?” Dylan downed his shot and leaned back against the bar. “The one from Loyola or the one from Northwestern?”
“Could you tell the difference?” Michael mused.
“Nope.” Dylan grinned and signaled the bartender again. “Which is why I gave both of them your number.”
“How noble of you.” Michael smirked. “Did you forget yours?”
“When they call,” Dylan leaned in to Michael like he was explaining a deep secret. “You’ll be able to pull out of them all the vitals. You know…name, school, bra size. All the basics. You’re better at the……you know….”
“Logistics of conversation,” Michael supplied.
“Right! Much, much better at it than poor me. Then after some dazzling talking, maybe you’ll finally step up and get yourself some ass. Cuz it’s been sad watching you this semester. Just sad.”
“Oh, great. Thanks.”
“I’ve got your New Year’s resolution.” Dylan slapped a palm on the wet counter. “Your New Year’s resolution is to go out with at least five girls a week who are bad for you. Hell, three girls a week. One! One girl a week who will just do all the wonderful, dirty little things that need to be done to loosen you up.”
“Loosening up won’t get me any further with Flock & Mayer. My winter internship starts in four days.” Michael rattled the ice in his glass.
“Dude, your priorities are just fucked up. You know that?” Dylan grabbed Michael by the shoulders. “You’re out! You’re drinking in one of the best clubs in Chicago. There are women in here you couldn’t pray to have a chance with. And guess what? In less than twenty minutes, every single one of them is going to be looking for someone to kiss at midnight. Get off the friggin’ bar stool!”
“I’m up.” Michael signaled for another drink.
“Okay, here we go.” Dylan put an arm around Michael’s shoulders. “Now, ordinarily, I’d be point man on this, but seeing as it is the holidays and you’re actually out, I’ll play wing. So, let’s see. There’s the cluster of fine-looking girls over by the DJ, but you know what that means? Groupies. Or there’s the girls to our right gathered around the one with the veil. Uh-oh……bridal party. That’s always fun.”
“One of them was throwing up the last round of blow-job shots.” Michael pointed to a few on the end. “If that factors into your little process here.”
“No pukers. Fair enough. How about….oh…bingo.” Dylan zeroed in on the center of the dance floor. “God, I wish I wasn’t stepping down on this one.”
“Who?” Michael followed his gaze.
“Center of the floor, red hair, black top.”
Michael caught the flash of streaming red hair and slender bare shoulders. She was dancing with her arms held over her head, head nodding to the pounding bass. She moved slowly, catching every other beat, eyes closed, as if the music was playing only for her. She grinned woozily to her friend and shouted something over the music Michael couldn’t catch.
“You want me to go hit on her?” Michael gave a short laugh and took a deep sip from his glass. “Not going to happen.”
“Why not?” Dylan gave her a long look. “She’s hot. Look like she’s enjoying herself. Give me a good reason why not.”
“That’s Frank Tancredi’s daughter.” Michael gestured with his drink.
“Who?”
“Our new governor.” Michael turned his back to the dance floor. “Just elected in November.”
“How do you know these things?” Dylan was still staring.
“It’s called a newspaper.” Michael said over his shoulder. “They have these funny things called news in them.”
“Nah, that can’t be the governor’s daughter. What the hell is she doing here?”
Michael shrugged. “Maybe she heard it was the best club in town.”
“Oh, dude.” Dylan poked Michael in the back. “She’s headed right for us.”
Michael turned around. She was weaving through the packed floor and headed for their end of the bar. She was tall and slim and carried herself purposefully. Her top was black and shone with sparkles that caught the flashing lights from the floor. It tied high on her neck and left her long back exposed. Her skin gleamed from the neon lights of the dance floor, coloring patterns of light on her bare back. She leaned into the bar, her arm brushing against Dylan’s, and signaled the bartender.
Dylan looked at Michael pleadingly. Michael shrugged and took another long drink. He nodded to her with permission.
Dylan grinned wide and turned to her. “Happy New Year.”
“What?” She shouted over the music.
“Happy New Year!” He pitched his voice louder. “I’m Dylan.”
She gave him a long once over that Michael appreciated. She seemed to be sizing Dylan up in one moment. “Sara.”
“Can I buy you a drink?” Dylan waved a twenty at the bartender. “Take a shot with me.”
Sara shrugged noncommittally, a small smile on her face. “Sure.” She leaned across the bar to wink at the bartender. “Two double shots of jack.”
“My kind of girl.” Dylan’s grin went wider as he laid the bill on the counter. His hand went to Sara’s to pull her in closer. “And who are you kissing at midnight?”
She pulled her hand out of his and grabbed her drink. She took the shot quickly, efficiently, and pushed off the bar. “Thanks for the drink. Have fun.”
“Wait!” Dylan grabbed her arm as she turned away. “You’re not running off so soon.”
She leveled him with another look and smiled sweetly. “I have to get back to my friends now.”
Michael smiled into his drink as she disappeared into the crowd. “That was smooth, man.”
“Dude.” Dylan turned his back to the crowd. “She’s probably got some guy out there. Whatever.”
“Uh-huh.” Michael could see her hugging a tall guy with spiky hair. He whispered something into Sara’s ear and she laughed, her head tilted back and eyes closed.
“Okay, it’s almost midnight. I’m going to go find that blonde and her friend from earlier. Don’t move.” Dylan stumbled out into the crowd.
Michael checked his watch. Few minutes till midnight. The music had dropped and a previously recorded telecast of Times Square was projected on to a screen hanging over the DJ’s booth. The bartender tapped him on the shoulder and handed him a plastic champagne flute and poured in half a glass of Cook’s.
“Got one for me?”
Michael turned. Sara was standing next to him at the bar, her eyes on his glass. Michael shrugged and handed her his.
“Where’s your friend?” She took a small sip and leaned over the bar. She grabbed the small clutch bag lying next to Michael’s elbow. “I left my bag here.”
“Off nursing a broken heart. I think you might have ruined him for life.” Michael took another plastic flute off the counter and toasted her.
“Broken hearts aren’t lethal.” She cocked her head to one side. “He’ll survive.”
“Probably. Look.” He gestured through the crowd. Dylan was pinned against the DJ’s speaker by a blonde girl in a pink dress. “Somebody should tell them it’s another minute to midnight.”
“Wow.” Sara gave a half smile and shook her head.
“That could have been you.” Michael nodded his head.
She ducked her head and leaned in closer to him. “Guess I missed my shot.”
Michael liked that when she leaned in, he could look her straight in the eye. He raised an eyebrow. “Guess so.”
“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven!” The dance floor began to chat as the seconds counted down. Sara turned to Michael and placed a hand on his arm.
“Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!!” Michael and Sara chimed in with the crowd.
She smiled wide and drank her champagne in one gulp. Leaning in, she pressed her lips to his, softly. He ran a hand down her arm and linked their fingers together. He could taste the cheap champagne on her lips. Pulling away, she squeezed his hand before letting go.
“Happy New Year.” She whispered in his ear. He kissed her on the cheek before stepping back. She smiled and gave a little wink before joining the rest of the crowd on the dance floor.
Michael watched her go, his eyes following her as she joined her friends in the center of the dance floor. She was picked up by another guy and swung around in a wide circle as she kissed him intently. Michael took his champagne quickly, letting the bubbles lay on his tongue before swallowing. He sat back on the bar stool, smiling. “Happy New Year.”
The End