The time right before checking out of the hotel was always the most hectic time for the Pussycat gang; while they tried as hard as possible to prepare the night before, it always seemed a million and one things came up in the morning that hadn't even remotely crossed their minds and they all (with the exception of Alexandra) became a flustered mess trying to figure everything out.

This morning was no exception. Melody had left her favorite drumsticks, the ones autographed by both Ringo Starr and Keith Moon, in the room, but it seemed that Alexander had already returned their keys and the desk clerk refused to give them one back. Alex and Melody had descended upon him, despite fervent attempts at restraint by Josie and Alan who had eventually given up and started fighting the burly employee alongside their friends, if only in self-defense. Alexandra, naturally, just sat on the desk, filing her nails and periodically demanding, "When are we going to get out of here?" Sebastian meowed unhappily beside her.

And while all this was occurring, Valerie happened to be picking the lock on the door to the hotel room with a hairpin.

###

Click!

"Eureka!" the percussionist cried, pushing the door open. For once it seemed lucky that pretty much no one in their party ever remembered the deadbolt.

She quickly scanned the room, then started toward the drawer where she knew the drumsticks would be.

After carefully picking them up, she glanced around one more time, making sure there wasn't anything else left. No need for even more chaos…

Her eyes drifted to the door that adjoined their room to the boys'.

Well, it can't hurt to check in there, too…

Valerie placed a hand on the knob; the door slid open easily.

The rooms would have been mirror images of the sloppiness left when one checks out of a hotel except for one small detail, that being a crumpled ball of white paper on the floor between the beds in Alan and Alexander's room. Ever the tidy, Valerie went to pick it up, silently wondering what it was.

The next moment found her sitting on the bed and smoothing out the find on her lap. She began reading.

Dear Valerie,

Maybe I should just say it up front: I couldn't master the love letter technique if I dedicated the rest of my life to practicing, and obviously, as much as I might like to, I don't have time to do that.

But, that being said, what's to prevent me from writing a love letter, even if the format is all wrong? A love letter's just a letter expressing love, right?

Would you believe, ever since that day I first noticed you in high school, I've had something of an on-off rabid crush on you? I mean, you've got it all; you're prettier than a spring day, dress to the nines (well, in comparison to me, anyway…), are so smart and one of the kindest, sweetest people I've ever had the pleasure of knowing.

But I know I sometimes really bother you. Like when I try to help you with building your contraptions and stuff and I end up fouling everything up. Big-time. Understatement of the eon, right?

Well, I don't mean to.

I know, kind of a lame excuse, but I swear, if it were anyone else I was working with, I'd be churning out circuits and the like a mile a minute. But I'm so afraid of messing up in front of you that, in the end, I do messing up in front of you. Kind of a vicious cycle, you know? Not to mention, at least for me, that means ultimate torture and humiliation. There's really nothing worse than the girl you like giving you the evil eye.

You know what I told you about the love letter technique? Well, this isn't even remotely turning out like a love letter, formatted or not. It's becoming more like a pointless rant about my shortcomings. So I'll wrap it up.

All I guess I want to say is that, Val, I really like you and I hope someday I get up enough courage to ask you out on a date.

But knowing me, by then we'll be in our sixties.

Love,

Alexander Cabot III

Valerie looked up from the man's cramped cursive. So was that was why he tagged along when she did her scientific work? He had a crush on her and didn't have enough courage to speak up?

Well, the latter part of that statement shouldn't surprise her a bit.

But wasn't that so sweet of him, to think of her? She was one of those girls it seemed nobody ever had a crush on. At first, she'd been jealous of others who struck her as more fortunate, but later on, she just made an effort to ignore it by immersing herself in her schoolwork and doing scientific experiments on the side that she didn't particularly enjoy and only wasted her time on for that very reason: they were time consuming. She'd been on exactly one date, if paying Jefferson Darren to take her to the prom could even be considered a date.

But here was a boy she knew well and, in fact, even liked, and he obviously liked her back without the temptation of several months' worth of her allowance being pressed on him.

And the only issue he had was a lack of courage…

Hmm…could he maybe use a little…help?

###

"Take that, you big bully!" Josie cried, stabbing the burly man's leg with one her heels.

It seemed that all involved parties had totally forgotten the cause of the fight between the majority of the Pussycat gang and the clerk and were still fighting simply because they couldn't break out of the pattern they'd worked themselves into.

Alexandra had long since stopped filing her nails and, as she looked down from her perch on the desk, an idea struck.

This might be just the chance I need to put Josie out of commission and get Alan for myself.

"Here Josiekins, let me help you!" she called, sliding down. Turning, she planted a hard kick on Josie's shin; the redhead went down, hitting the tile.

"Alan!" the guitarist cried, wincing in pain.

"Josie!" the roadie exclaimed, leaping out of the fight and crouching down by his companion. "Are you okay?"

"Never mind about her Alan. Let's you and me get back in the fight…together." Alexandra exclaimed, tugging at his arm.

"Alexandra, I…" Josie started before being interrupted.

"Okay you guys. Break it up."

The voice caught the entire group off-guard and the fighting ceased, if only because of the pure shock felt by all parties.

Valerie coolly strode across the lobby. "Here you go Melody." She handed the blonde her treasured drumsticks.

"Val, how did you…" Alan began.

"Later. C'mon, let's scram. We're all checked out, right… Alex?"

"Right Val." The manager replied. "Next stop, home. And no matter what, we're not coming back to this hotel." He glared at the clerk, who snorted.

"Need any help, Josie?" Alan asked, pulling away from Alexandra and taking one her of her hands as she got up. She smiled weakly. "I could use a little. Melody, could you take my other arm?"

"Sure." The blonde replied grabbing onto the redhead's arm. "But how do I get it off?"

"She doesn't mean 'take' like that, you ding-a-ling! She means to hold onto to help her walk!" Alexandra rolled her eyes.

"Oh." The drummer giggled.

The three of them started inched out the door.

"C'mon Sebastian. Bare your teeth. We're not done yet." Alexandra grunted, strutting out behind them.

Once she was gone, Alex smiled crookedly at the percussionist. "Thanks for getting us out of that jam Val."

"Anytime." She replied.

An awkward silence followed before they both began speaking at the exact same moment.

"So Val…"

"So Alex…"

The manager could feel his face burning. "Go ahead, Val. Ladies first."

"No, you go ahead talk first." Valerie protested.

"I'd hate to…"

"I insist."

"O…Okay…" he said, his voice wavering. "I was just wondering…my…my mom said that a new restaurant is opening in Riverdale just about now and I…I was wondering if you would go and…tr… try it with me..."

"Alex, I…"

"I know, I know. I shouldn't have asked. Gosh, how dumb do I get? It's the worst combination isn't it? Dumb and cowardly…"

"Alex…that…that wasn't what I was about to say. Not at all… Would you believe… I was going to ask you the same thing?"

"What?"

"I'd…I'd love to go with you, Alex."

"What...really? Oh, I'd…I'd love to go with you too, Val."

"Hey, you two. Break it up." A familiar voice cut in slimily. They spun around.

"Don't you appreciate young love?" Alexander snapped.

"Not when it's between two customers I've lost!" the clerk retorted. "Now scat!"