Wow, it's been a while since I've posted a fic! This is a little Valentine's Day Moonlight fic that I wrote a little while ago (haven't had time to post it till now). Right now, it's a one shot, but I have an idea of where it can go if I get enough people to review saying that they want me to continue it. This is the first time I've tried to write a fic in the first person (from a specific character's point of view), so please be kind :)

Spoilers: Takes place sometime after episode 11, Love Lasts Forever

Rating: K

Summary: As Beth struggles with her grief and guilt over Josh's death on Valentine's Day, she finds comfort in the one man who she's tried to avoid. Written from Beth's point of view.

Valentine's Day, Beth's Apartment

I sigh as I glance at the clock: it's only 7:30. Why must this day go by so slowly? And why must I be alone?

I can't seem to stop walking around the apartment, or stop drinking cup after cup of coffee, while we're on the subject. I just need something to do to pass the time. I would sleep, but I can't close my eyes. Dreams haunt my mind whenever I do. I always see Josh's bloodied body lying on the ground, staring at me with unseeing eyes. I feel the tears roll down my cheeks as I kiss his cold, grey lips, desperately trying to breathe life back into his dead flesh…

Stop it Beth! I shake my head violently, desperately hoping that the physical action can force the thoughts from my mind. Gosh, where is comfort when you need it? Is it lurking in this coffee cup? Or maybe hiding on the other line of the phone? Perhaps outside, hidden in the hustle and bustle of the city?

No, it's invisible to my eyes. I sigh and glance out the window, watching the dying sun bleed its colors over the blank canvas of the sky. Bright blue has been replaced by harsh reds, yellows, and pinks. How ironic, considering today's date.

It's been lonely, being by myself these past few days. I've tried to call Mick hundreds of times, but my fingers lock up and refuse to dial the numbers as I clumsily try to force them to. I know he thinks that I never want to see him again, but the truth is that I just need some time to think before I can face him again.

How could I have been so selfish? How could I have begged Mick to turn Josh into the one thing he despises the most? I'm so ashamed of myself. Now that I've thought about it, I can't see how I could have even considered the idea, let alone beg for it. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against vampires. Good ones, anyway. But I've seen how much Mick hates what he is. How could I possibly ask him to inflict that life on another, just so I could spend more time with him? How could I use Mick like that?

This is why I can't look Mick in the eyes. In one, I see his face as I beg him to turn Josh. The hesitation, the worry, the disgust, it all breaks my heart. And in the other, I see my guilt ridden face as I watch a newly turned Josh struggle to deal with what he is.

I shudder once again. These thoughts come too often now, and I wish that I could somehow rid myself of them. Guilt and regret are the heaviest emotions to carry on your shoulders, no matter what others may argue.

I hear a knock at the front door. Who could possibly be visiting me? My stomach flips as I imagine what Mick's tormented face would look like if I opened the door to find him standing there. The thought freezes me to the spot where I'm standing, and the hesitation prevents me from approaching the door.

The knocking ceases, and I can faintly hear footsteps fade away as my visitor leaves. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I make my way to the door. I open it and glance down the hall in an attempt to see who it was. But I'm too late. They've already left.

When I start to close the door, my eye catches something lying in front of the doorway. I kneel down to pick it up. A plate of cookies is wrapped in cellophane, a rose and a piece of folded up paper taped to the top.

My heart pounds a bit as I stand back up and close the door behind me, wondering if the gift is from who I think it is. I set it down on the kitchen counter and glance at the rose, playing with the silky petals as I run my fingers through them. I remove the note slowly, both anticipating and dreading reading it. I feel my stomach flip once again as I recognize the handwriting. Mick's.

Beth,

I understand that you need some space, but I just want to make sure that

you're okay. This is a lot to handle by yourself. Just know that I'm here for

you if and when you need to talk. I'm worried about you.

If you're angry with me, I understand that as well. If you don't want to see

me again, well, I guess I'll find out sooner or later. I hope to see you again

soon though. I miss you.

Mick

P.S. I thought you might like a Valentine's gift. Sorry if you don't like the cookies (I can't taste them to see if they're good enough or not, but hopefully they're edible).

I can't help but chuckle as I read the final line, despite the darkness of my thoughts just moments before. It's such a typical thing for Mick to say. I take another look at the rose, noticing that the edges of the petals are starting to turn a little black from their deprivation of water. I take a small vase out of one of the kitchen cabinets and fill it with some water, placing the rose inside so it can drink.

The note lays open on the counter, and I find myself sighing as I read it a few times more. The cellophane has been removed from the plate, and I bite into one of the small cookies the package contained. Surprisingly, I find myself enjoying the sweetness of the little dessert.

I turn away from the note, but Mick's words still bounce around in my mind. I hope to see you again soon though. I miss you. Gosh, what do I do? I feel a wave of nervousness fall over me as I consider calling him, but I feel a larger feeling of emptiness at the thought of staying home alone with only my thoughts to occupy me. The phone sits innocently on the counter, next to the cookies, and I hesitantly reach over to pick it up. My fingers feel slightly less clumsy as I slowly dial the familiar phone number and bring the thing to my ear, waiting for his voice to fill the line.

"Hello?" His voice rings in my head as I struggle to find the right words to say.

"Mick." I can almost picture the shock and discomfort on his face as he recognizes my voice. "Beth."

"Mick, can you come over to my place? We need to talk."