There is confetti strewn across the wooden floor, sticking to her bare feet as she makes her way across the room. There might be some in her hair too, but this is no concern to her. She smiles, making a small sound of contentment at the same time, her cheeks flushed from the many drinks she's already consumed. Everyone is cheering, clapping hard and nosily, making it slightly difficult to walk through the sea of faces. She thinks she can hear a couple of noisemakers too, ringing out loudly and triumphantly. Someone has turned on the television, but she can't see it and can't tell how much more time she has left.

Finally she sees him standing apart from the crowd, a beer in hand. He's leaning against the archway that leads into the room, looking relaxed and happy. She knows he's not a crowd person, not in the slightest, so to see him enjoying himself brings a rush of happiness to her chest, deepening her smile. She thinks people are starting to chant the count down. Only a few steps now.

He notices her later than he normally might, her smell masked by the amount of people in the mansion tonight. It doesn't hide the wolfish grin that snakes its way onto his face when he does see her, however. She inches closer until she's standing before him, the crowd of people yelling louder and louder with each passing second.

"Jubilee."

She can't hear him say her name, not with all the noise; but she can see his lips move and it is enough. Jubilee bites her lip, not caring about smudging her lipstick, and looks up at his eyes a bit nervously. But there is something about the night that erases this twinge of anxiety.

"Logan."

Her eyes tear slightly, heart pumping wildly. This is important. Although she is intoxicated, the seriousness of the situation strikes her mind hard, halting her breath. Jubilee knows Logan can sense all of these things, which doesn't make this easier.

The countdown reaches one, and as people begin to shout as loudly as possible, Jubilee leans forward and presses her lips to his.

He doesn't protest, and for this she is quite grateful. She supposes his dissent will come after she's through and with this thought in her mind she intensifies the kiss, his stubble grazing her chin. Pressing her body against his, she is unaware of anything else. Running her fingers through his dark hair, she slightly murmurs against his lips when he presses his hand against the small of her back, kissing her back. Her hands are clasped gently around his jaw when she finally pulls away, the taste of him clinging to her swollen lips.

Hands still touching his face, she whispers a happy new year against his neck before letting go, quickly allowing herself to be swept up amongst the crowd. She knows he won't follow.

There are hugs from various friends and family throughout the night and Jubilee is wished a happy new year more times than she can count. Nothing eases the throb of her heart as she realizes what she's done. Ruined years and years of friendship on a whim, on feelings that shouldn't be.

Feelings that shouldn't be, but are.

Champagne is freely flowing until at least one o'clock in the morning. And when Bobby grins mischievously before flourishing a full bottle of vodka, Jubilee grabs it from his outstretched hands, whooping loudly before running around the room like a child who's just received the best Christmas toy of her life. At first the other adults take shots with her and Bobby, but as the night carries on, and the party dwindles, less and less people accompany the two. Eventually, it is three thirty in the morning, only a small amount of vodka left in the bottle (just enough for the two to declare they won't be going to bed until it is finished). They are sprawled on the wooden floor with piled confetti swirling about their outstretched legs, the bottle of vodka sitting in between them.

"What's your resolution for this year, Jubes?"

She looks at Bobby with half opened eyes and grins lazily. "I'm leavin', Bobster," she slurs. "Shh! It's a secret," she says as disapproval strikes his face. "I just wanna get outta here for a while, ya know?"

"You're drunk. You're not serious." She takes a swig of the vodka bottle as he speaks and then passes it back to him.

"I am. Time to move on, see new things. Only young once, right?"

"I guess. I'll miss you though."

"Don't be silly. Now, hand me that bottle. Let's finish this."

- - -

By the time Bobby and Jubilee finish the vodka, it is five in the morning and the mansion is quiet and still. The two trip up the stairs, trying to mask their laughter at each misstep and stumble. She's still laughing when he walks her to her room, silently saluting her before walking to his own, silent laughter shaking his shoulders.

The world spins wildly now that she is alone. The darkness swallows up any sort of familiarity of her room once she is inside, but she doesn't bother searching for the light, nor does she even think of using her fireworks while this drunk. Instead, she fumbles her way into her bathroom, the cool tiles sweeping across her feet and sticking to her toes. Jubilee kneels close to the toilet, pressing her forehead to the lid and waits to be sick. From her days in college, she knows this routine all too well, almost expecting it. Her mind is blissfully free, her heart still numb from the alcohol. She doesn't know when Logan left the party but knows he was gone soon after her and Bobby opened the vodka bottle.

She knows this will all hurt much more in the morning.

And then she gets sick.