She sets the bottle down and takes his face between her hands, looking into his eyes for a moment before drawing him down. Her words feather against the side of his mouth.

"Happy New Year, Gene."

This kiss is nothing like the peck he got under the mistletoe. It is not chaste. It is soft and insistent, though somewhat hesitant, as if her confidence is failing her at the last moment. As if she's waiting for his answer to her question.