Perfect Symmetry

It was eight thirty, and I was staring at my collection of clothes as if it was some sort of master puzzle I was supposed to solve. Viktor had said to “dress warm,” but what does that even mean? What had he planned? If it was dinner, then things were simple: dress, heels, coat...done. But this wasn’t going to just be some dinner and I knew it. After a lot of deliberation, I opted for a “winter-light” look. I wore dark jeans, a lacy shirt that I covered up with my green puffy jacket, and I grabbed my knitted hat and glove set as well as my scarf to wrap around my neck. Viktor buzzed in just as I was pulling on my fluffy boots.

“It’s me,” his voice leaked through my intercom.

“Give me a sec,” I called out, hopping as I pulled on the second boot. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

After a quick review of my make-up (pretty light, only a bit of eyeliner) and my hair, (straightened again to simplify things) I hurried downstairs to meet Viktor.

He was wearing a sweater and jeans, which freaked me out.

“Am I dressed too warm?” was the first thing I demanded of him in the lobby.

Viktor smiled slyly. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Well then why are you wearing very few layers?” I picked at his sweater accusingly.

“Don’t worry about it,” he assured me. He kissed my lips quickly and then led me to his car outside.

I grilled him the entire way. What are we doing? Where are we going? What time will we get back? We’re not going to Kaner’s party, are we? Does it involve me getting humiliated? Is it outside?

“You don’t like surprises, do you?” Viktor chuckled as he adjusted his mirrors and drove through an amber light.

I frowned. “I like to pretend I do. And I like the concept but...I like knowing what to expect. When I’m watching a dramatic movie, I read the summary of it on Wikipedia so that if someone dies or something horrific happens, I’m prepared.”

“Doesn’t that defeat the entire purpose of a movie?” he replied incredulously.

“Well if I didn’t do it, I would become too emotionally invested in the movie and then cry or pee my pants when something horrible happens. I only do this for certain movies. I don’t bother with romantic comedies,” I justified meekly.

“What about horror movies?” Viktor inquired.

I snorted. “Yeah, right, like I can totally watch horror movies. I can’t do it, Viktor, my nerves can’t handle it, and I take of about five years of my life for every horror movie I watch.”

“And how many have you watched?” he pressed.

I blushed. “Only two. But that’s ten years!”

“You won’t even watch one with me?” Viktor pouted childishly.

I breathed in quickly, and felt my flesh prickling with heat before I even responded to Viktor’s adorably flirting.

“Not even with you,” I recovered with a smile. “Hey, this is the United Center, silly. Is this some sort of cheap date?”

Viktor laughed as he parked the car round the back and opened the door for me. I pulled on my hat and gloves and let him wrap an arm around his shoulder as we walked inside.

It was deserted, of course. It was New Years Eve, for God’s sake.

“Is this where you murder me with an ice pick?” I asked nervously, only half joking.

Viktor shot me an incredulous look, and I smiled apologetically. But I was getting seriously nervous here. He refused to tell me anything, and instead pulled me closer and led me towards the locker room.

“Ooh, dirty,” I smirked jokingly.

He gave an exasperated laugh and whispered in my ear, “If I wanted to be dirty with you I wouldn’t have wasted twenty minutes driving you here.”

I gulped. Well, that was sexy as hell. How was I supposed to even come close to topping that? I bit my lip and he smiled wickedly at his victory. I walked to the door that led to the rink and gasped when I saw the ice, just gone over by the zamboni. “The Madhouse seemed like a misnomer today, with nobody there and the stadium so quiet I could probably hear a pin drop. I heard Viktor approaching me from behind and I turned to look at him.

He was holding two pairs of skates, and one was decidedly larger than the other.

“For me?” I gasped, reaching for the huge pair teasingly.

Viktor rolled his eyes and gave me the small pair of figure skates instead.

“No, these are for you. I hope you know how to skate,” he waited for my answer expectantly.

“My skating will look like shit compared to yours,” I replied cheerfully, grabbing the skates and pulling off my boots. “This should be very entertaining for you.”

By the time I was finished lacing up one skate, Viktor was done with both of his, and offered to lace up my other one. I tried to ignore the feeling of his hands running up my leg as he did so. Then he caught a glimpse of my clumsy job of the first skate, and muttered something in Swedish before undoing all of my hard work and re-doing it in half the time.

“Thanks!” I grinned, standing up eagerly.

Viktor beat me out onto the ice, and did a graceful lap before waiting for me in the middle of the rink, right on the Blackhawks logo. I hesitated. I was a poor skater under normal conditions, but here? In the United Center, with a gorgeous man? My legs were already shaking and I wasn’t even on the ice yet.

“Come on, Jazz,” Viktor called out, “let’s see your skills.”

“I’m warning you now, you may lose all the respect you ever had for me,” I yelled as I grasped the door and put my feet on the ice.

It was as difficult as I remembered it. My feet were useless at first, and I clutched the door with two hands and laughed. “Oh my God, I am rubbish at this.”

“Come on, make it out here and you’ll get a prize,” Viktor tempted coyly.

“Why can’t you just come here, Mr. Professional Hockey Player?” I retorted, slowly turning on the spot to glare at him.

“Because this is much more fun. And, I think you can skate. You have the legs for it,” Viktor flirted.

I blushed. His not-so-subtle flirting and flattery had worked this time. I turned bravely and tried to remember how I had skated when I was a teenager. Then slowly, my legs began to move. Right, left, right, left; I gained momentum, and then glided unsteadily out to where Viktor was waiting.

“I knew you could skate,” he smirked, putting his hands on my waist to steady me.

I pouted. “Where’s my prize?”

Viktor rolled his eyes. “I think you’re taking advantage of me. This is borderline sex slavery.”

I laughed loudly, the noise echoing through the empty ice rink, bouncing off of every seat back into my ears.

“Well if that’s so, I release you from your bondage, slave,” I jibed, moving his hands off of me and skating away shakily, wobbling a bit as I went.

Viktor shadowed me with annoying ease, and I glared at his skates jealously.

“On second thought, I seem to have grown fond of my bonds,” he amended, skating closer to me and catching my hand with his.

I blushed immensely. I was no good at this sort of borderline role-playing, dirty talk business.

“Then kiss me, you idiot,” I whispered.

Just as our lips met, the speakers for the rink started playing Frank Sinatra, and I pulled away to look up questioningly.

“Hjalmarsson,” Viktor answered the question I hadn’t even asked yet

I nodded. “Thanks Nik!” I bellowed, my voice hopefully carrying to whatever box Niklas was sitting in.

“You’re welcome, Jazz,” his laughing voice came on the loudspeaker and I laughed.

“Go home, Nik!” Viktor yelled with semi-annoyance.

“Some grateful friend you are, Stalberg,” Nik’s false irritation was easily seen through, “see you later, kids. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” His laughter died out as he switched off the system.

“Why do I feel like that doesn’t really limit us very much?” I joked as Viktor pulled me close and moved to kiss me again.

“So tell me, darling,” I evaded his arms and skated with more confidence to the side of the rink that the players would sit on. “How many other girls have you charmed with this whole set up?”

“None,” Viktor gave me a small smile. “Just you.”

My heart fluttered at that, but I backed away from him.

“And how exactly did you manage to get us the whole rink to ourselves, anyway?” I asked suspiciously.

“I’d rather not say; it ruins the man of mystery thing I’m going for,” he teased, skating even closer to me.
I gulped, and tried to skate back, but hitting the wall and realizing I was kind of cornered here.

“Fine,” I whispered, as Viktor moved dangerously close to me. “But I think this is really fun.”

His smile was beautiful, and before I could recover, his hands were on my waist and he lifted me up so I was sitting on the boards. In this position, we were at the perfect eye level, and he pulled me in for a fierce kiss. I had to grab onto his neck just to stop from toppling backwards. He pulled away just as I was on the brink of losing my sanity, and I breathed heavily as he gently set me back on the ice, where I promptly collapsed onto the ice.

“Well I now know what all those women say they grow weak at the knees,” I joked as I sat on the cold ice rather pathetically.

Viktor offered me his hands, and he pulled me up effortlessly. He held my hand and we skated for a while. I tried to get him to teach me to twirl like Kristy Yamaguchi, but he scoffed, and said he was a hockey player, not some weedy figure skater.

My skating improved slowly, and as I skated along to the music, which was apparently a Rat Pack special, since Dean Martin was now singing, Viktor was pulling out mats and baskets from behind the bench.

“What are you up to, mister?” I called out as I skated over to have a proper look.

“Well, it’s nearly midnight on New Years Eve, and I’m trying to get properly prepared for it,” he replied.

He rolled a huge blanket with a plastic bottom out and then sat down heavily onto it. From the basket, he pulled out a bottle of champagne and two glasses. I skated around him clumsily for a few minutes before plopping down next to him. He poured us a couple of glasses and I sipped it contentedly, leaning into him slightly. The clock said two minutes to midnight.

“I like how we’ve ended this year,” I said abruptly, nestled in Viktor’s chest.

“I like how we’ll start next year,” he replied, kissing the top of my forehead.

I felt the blush spread across my cheeks and I took off my scarf to lessen the heat. I took my glass and raised it to his.

“Here’s to an even more amazing new year,” I smiled hopefully.

Viktor clinked his glass with mine and took a sip before squeezing my hand. I glanced at the clock. 12:00 AM. There was a whole new year waiting ahead of us.

“Happy New Year, Jazz,” Viktor murmured before planting a soft, tantalizing kiss that somehow affected me more than the hot and heavy one we had shared earlier.

I kissed his scruffy cheek. “Happy New Year to you too, Viktor.”

We sat there for a few more songs, since both of us were quite content to listen to Dean Martin’s romantic tunes for a while. Then, he finally stood up and rolled up the mat and tossed it behind the visitor’s bench, which made me giggle. Then, he picked up speed from the bench and pulled me along for a ride to the door.

It was only when I took off my skates that I realized how sore my legs were and how weak my ankles were. I winced as I rotated and cracked my ankles before putting my feet back into my boots.

“Sore?” Viktor frowned when he saw me massaging my foot delicately in the locker room.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“You should wait until tomorrow,” Viktor remarked while unlacing his own skates.

I shot him a sly look. “Oh?”

He looked embarrassed. “No – I didn’t mean it in that sense, although...”

I punched him jokingly. “Shut up.”

His blue eyes glinted as he put his skates in his cubby and pulled on his shoes. He sat next to me and gave me a glare.

“Do you doubt my abilities, madam?” he queried, leaning close to me.

I gulped. “Maybe.”

Viktor smirked. “Well, in that case, it’s time to get you home immediately.”

With that, Viktor picked me up bridal style and carried me out to his car. Even if the entire evening had been a bust, the way he held me and carried me out to the car would have saved the entire evening. As it were, it was just the icing on the top of the metaphorical cake.

I had a good feeling about the year to come when I fell asleep that night with Viktor’s strong arm slung over my waist comfortingly.
~
When I woke up the next morning, I was alone in bed, with a note from Viktor saying he’d be back with some coffee and croissants. I wandered about in his t-shirt for a while and checked my phone, which was riddled with new years texts and calls. There were quite a few texts from Kaner, Abby, and Burish, all asking where I was and why I wasn’t at the party. When I checked my messages, I heard:

Jazzy! It’s Patrick...Kane. Haha, in case you didn’t know like, which Patrick it was. ‘Cause we have more than one; we have like two. Where are you, Jazz? I’m throwing this bomb-ass party just for you and you aren’t even at here. Oh my Gawd, there are sooo many hot girls here; it’s nuts, but if YOU came, it would be one MORE hot girl, you know? Hey, Burish, what are you doing, I’m talking to Jazz-
here, Pat’s voice broke off and Adam’s slightly more sober one came on. Hey, Jazz. I don’t know how he is drunk yet; it isn’t even close to midnight. Anyway, I’m sorry you’re not here, since this party could use some sane people. I’m sure you and Stally are having a dirty time wherever you are. Call me tomorrow if you’re free, and I’ll take you to lunch. See you, kid.

I chuckled at that message, and saved it, since I had a mind to show it to Kaner later. I sent Pat a text message apologizing for my absence and wishing him a happy new year.

I then called Burish, since it was like eleven in the morning, and he should be awake by now.

“Hey, kid,” he answered pretty cheerfully.

“Hey, I didn’t wake you, did I?” I asked worriedly.

Burish laughed. “It’s almost noon.”

“Well, I thought you might have been partying hard last night,” I quipped, walking into Viktor’s living room.

“No, I left all of that to Kaner. I think I saw him leave with three girls at once. That idiot astonishes me,” Burish replied, sounding amused.

I rolled my eyes even though Adam couldn’t see me.

“I know, I got his drunk voicemail. Well, at least he had fun,” I said with finality.

“Yeah; listen, do you want to grab some lunch, my treat?” Adam sounded genuine, which was nice.

I smiled, and Viktor returned from the café just as I was going to respond.

“I’m at Viktor’s right now, but you can come get me from my place at about two?” I suggested, “or is that too late?”

“No that’s perfect, it gives me a chance to make myself presentable. Might even shave,” Adam replied with a chuckle.

“Wow, a shave just for me? You sure know how to make a girl feel special,” I joked.

“See you at two?” he waited for my confirmation.

“Sounds good,” I responded before hanging up.

Viktor handed me a cup of coffee and kissed me on the cheek.

“Was that Jonathan?” he asked casually.

I knitted my brow “No; it was Burish. I’m going to lunch with him at two.”

Viktor glanced at his watch.

“Well that means we have plenty of time for round three before he gets here,” he growled, pulling me back to the bedroom.

“Well, you totally won the last round, so only if it’s my turn now,” I warned him.

He laughed. “That’s an offer I can’t refuse.”