Title: Valentine's ABH
Author: JBG
Premise: Cheery Valentine's ABH featuring our beloved Watcher and YOU.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination (and the characters I made up.) Joss Whedon, WB, Mutant Enemy and/or a bunch of other people own everything else in the Buffyverse...
Timeline: Nothing specific
Author's notes: Okay, not only is this written in second person present tense, but also in second person past... My head aches now, and I'm going to lie down for a while.

Rating: PG-13

Feedback welcome, archiving considered an honor! Long live Romance!

Intellectually, you know that three dates do not a relationship make. Still, the complete lack of communication from Rupert on the day set aside to honor romance has sent you into a complete depression. He seemed like such a catch... a successful businessman, educated, gentle-spirited, and with a sexy British accent to boot. You had been eager to get to know him, and he seemed to feel the same way about you. Still, there was something he kept hidden. You could tell there were subjects, such as his family and upbringing, that he was reluctant to share. You wonder if you said something off-putting at dinner last Friday night. It had seemed to be such a lovely evening. Your mind goes back... examining every detail...

********

You smiled approvingly at your unassumingly handsome partner as you were ushered into the most expensive restaurant in town by a tuxedoed maitre'd.

"Oh, Rupert! It's lovely! I've never been here before..."

He blushed slightly, dropping his head with a self-conscious smile. "Neither have I, actually. A friend recommended it. She tends to mother me at times."

"Who? Your girl at the Magic Box?" You were proud that your voice didn't bear a trace of jealousy. It wouldn't be appropriate after only three dates.

"Anya, yes... she takes a bit of getting used to, but she's priceless, really. Knows the merchandise better than I do, and has a mind like a calculator." He seated her carefully, but with the ease of practice. Another point in his favor... he was an innate gentleman.

"You're lucky to have a good employee. We go through receptionists like some people go through und... um... unmentionables." It was your turn to blush.

"She's more outspoken than most, but she's a good sort. Her fiancé is a close friend."

"Is he as wacky as she is?" you quipped, smiling because his face is relaxed and happy.

"In his own way," he answered with a smile. "Enough shop talk, let's see what we have to eat." He picked up a menu and handed it to you. You took one look and started to giggle. "What's wrong?" he said, concerned.

You waved the menu slightly. "It's in French."

"Ah, well, I think I can read this." He examined the menu and began to explain the various dishes. When the waiter returned, he ordered in what seemed to be flawless French. The waiter seemed impressed, and you were completely enthralled. Cosmopolitan men in Sunnydale were almost non-existent. You reminded yourself to hang onto this one.

After the meal was ordered and the wine was served, you engaged in small talk while waiting for the first course. Due to your euphoria at the prospects of such a pleasant evening, you fail to notice that he hedged his way around any questions regarding his personal life. Despite his plea to leave the shop talk alone, it was all he would engage in to any degree.

"Do you really like the food?" he asked for the third time.

"Yes, Rupert. It's wonderful! I've never had anything like it. Thank you for bringing me here."

He smiled that devastating smile again. "I'm so glad. One never knows when a place that claims to serve authentic South of France cuisine will turn out to be owned by two Texas fry cooks named Bubba and Billy Bob."

You laughed merrily, loving his sense of humor. "I always wanted to visit France. I hear it's amazing."

He got that strange look in his eyes again. "It is. Amazing and surprising. Perhaps one day you'll travel abroad and see for yourself."

"Not me," you said dismissively. "I've never been anywhere but Southern California. I'd love to do the 'bright lights, big city' thing, but I'm just a small town girl with few prospects. There's no use pretending I'm something I'm not."

He leaned over to you with a stern expression on his lean face. "Now, we're not going to hear any of that, young lady. Stop putting yourself down. You 're a marvelous person, and I'm very glad we met."

"Even though you ended up wearing the food you were carrying?" you teased. You'd literally run into him at the Expresso Pump a few weeks ago, ruining a very nice burgundy shirt with the dressing from a tossed salad.

"Even then," he said cheerfully, putting his hand over yours for a brief moment. It was long enough to set off a chain reaction in your body that made you blush.

By the time the evening was over, you were convinced that he was the one. He seemed to feel the same, and he'd favored you with a sweet kiss as he said goodnight. You went to bed convinced that your lonely Valentine's Days were over.

********

It is nearly seven o'clock now, and you give a huge sigh as you lock your doors and prepare for a solo evening. You check your stock of chocolate ice cream. Only about a half-quart left... not enough to drown your sorrows. You contemplate going to the store for more when a tentative knock surprises you.

You open the door and gasp. Sitting in the middle of the entrance is a huge bouquet of lavender roses. The exotic color seems to glow in the porch light. "Oh, my..." You reach down and touch a petal... it's soft as silk and gives off a lovely perfume. As you lift the crystal vase carefully, you notice a card has slid off to the side and is lying on the ground. You grab it with one hand and step back into the apartment, looking left and right for signs of your mysterious caller.

You close and lock the door again before going to the table and placing the amazing flowers in the center to admire. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you tear into the envelope that bears your name.

It's a beautiful gold-edged card with a sweet Valentine's wish engraved on the front. Inside, the card is simply signed, "Rupert." You jump up immediately, hoping he's still outside. When you throw open the door again, there's another offering on the porch. This time, it's a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

You're onto the game, now, and you say with a smirk, "All right, Rupert, you can come out now!"

He slips into the light with a bashful smile. "Hello, love. I hope this wasn't too much..."

You throw your arms around him and plant a grateful kiss on his mouth. "This is the sweetest, most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me! Thank you!" You push him away, feigning anger. "Where were you? I had almost given up!"

"I'm so sorry. I had to close up the shop. Anya is having a wedding shower tonight. I forgot all about it until she announced she was leaving, and by then there were customers to deal with..."

"Never mind. It's okay."

"I'm sorry," he says again. He touches your cheek with his fingertips, his face close to yours. "I wanted this to be special."

"It was. It is. You're here."

He continues his caress as he says seriously, "You deserve much more than this, my dear. I wish I could whisk you away to the French Rivera for the weekend, but a candlelight drink will have to do."

"I don't need beaches and expensive hotels."

He follows you in with the wine and glasses. Your apartment is so small that he doesn't have to take very many steps to put the bottle down on the table. He turns to you, still exhibiting hesitance. You look him in the eyes, letting him see the touch of sadness there. "I... I didn't think you were coming by at all."

He curses under his breath. "I should have called, but I wanted this to be a surprise. I can't... I don't... well, I'm terribly out of practice at the dating business." He smiles bravely. "Perhaps you can help me with that."

His sweet sincerity melts your heart. "It's all right, but don't do it again, okay? I thought something was wrong."

He pulls you close, his hands sliding to your waist. "I'll have to make it up to you," he whispers, making a chill run up your spine. You wonder if he knows how sexy his voice really is.

"And just how do you plan on doing that?"

He sweeps you into his arms. This time the kiss is anything but casual. You respond eagerly to every advance, giving him full access to your mouth. The man certainly knows how to kiss! You find yourself completely out of breath when he breaks away and leans his head against yours.

"It's a start," you gasp, trailing your fingers through the soft hair at his neck. He kisses you again, his hands holding you firmly against his chest. He breaks the kiss again and gives you another 1000-watt smile.

"I think I'd better get on with it, then," he breathes, lowering his lips to your neck for a series of nibbling kisses. You nod, unable to form coherent words because his hands are moving along your back. He walks you back two steps to close your open front door with one foot, shutting the world out for the rest of the evening.

END

Happy Valentine's Day!