Hello there, FanFiction community! Welcome to my first-ever upload: Ladies' Night on Valentine's Day! Interesting fact: this is the very first story I ever completed, and that was a year ago. I started writing fiction—FNaF, of course—a little more than a year ago, and this was the first story I finished. Now be warned, because this was also the first romance I ever wrote, and while I didn't think it was that bad, there are some parts of this story that make me physically cringe at how cliche it is. I edited a lot of it as I typed it up (I write my stories in my beloved composition notebooks) and now it is MUCH better than it was, but to keep both the plot and the humor, I had to keep some cringey parts, so I'll just apologize for that now. I hope you enjoy my story, and please review it and, more importantly, constructively criticize it, because I need it! My beta reader is my younger brother, aged 13, and I love him, but he always says, when I ask him for criticism, "It's better than what I could ever write!" So it isn't very . . . critical. So if you guys find something that ticks you off. let me know so I can learn and write better stories for both you all and me. Now, onward to the story!


"You know what, fine! But I'm being paid extra for this, and I expect a raise for the rest of my time—what? You're kidding! Then in that case, after tonight I'm done. No. No, not 'just one more night,' I said I'm quitting after this! Get some other idiot to work for minimum wage!" Jeremy Fitzgerald angrily hung up his cell phone. The nerve of his boss! Completely out of the blue he asks—no, tells—him to work the weekend, on a holiday!

Give me some warning, I'd be better with it, he thought, and a decent overtime bonus. But I only have three hours until I have to be at the pizzeria!

Cursing under his breath, the young man dialed up his friend Mike Schmidt.

"Hey Jerry. We still on tonight or what?" The pair (along with the occasional other Freddy Fazbears' employee that cared to stay up late) typically met up Saturday nights to play pool and cards at Mike's house, staying up as late as five or six AM. Although retired from his original job as night guard at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, the career had left Mike a permanent night owl, and Jeremy had no problem with staying up late on the weekend. Unless, of course, his boss unexpectedly called him in to work the weekend. This, fortunately, was not at all often.

"Yeah, probably," Jeremy said, a hint of disgruntlement in his tone. "But I'll have to leave real early, like around 11:30-ish or something."

Mike groaned. "Boss got you going in tonight? Ugh."

"Yeah. He did promise a raise, but it sure isn't much."

"Let me guess. A whole extra eight cents an hour? That's what my overtime bonus was when I worked for Fazbear's."

Jeremy quickly did the math in his head. "Just about that, yes. Tonight's my last night, though; I told my boss I quit after this shift."

"Probably the smartest decision you'll make. Aw, you know, now I have to spend tonight robbing Fritz while blindfolded."

Fritz Smith was the day guard at the pizzeria, as well as Jeremy's substitute when Jeremy was sick. It wouldn't surprise him, though, if Fritz was switched to the night shift. The company seemed to deem the closed hours of the restaurant the ones that needed the most security.

"Sorry, man, but a guy's gotta make a living. At least you'll make yours tonight, too, just under better circumstances. I swear, Fritz is the worst bluffer I've ever seen. And he always bets so high, you'd think he was at a table in Vegas."

"Right? It's great. Speak of the devil, he's calling me now. Call you back?"

"Eh, if it's important. If not, I'll see you at ten." Jeremy hung up. The poor kid, Fritz. He was only eighteen years old, and a total wimp. He'd likely have a heart attack at the first sight of one of the malignant animatronics.

Jeremy sighed and pulled on his jacket. Mike and I are going to have to teach the kid a bit before Monday, he thought as he headed out to grab a bite to eat.


After a hearty meal of hamburgers and French fries Jeremy returned to his cramped little apartment, settled down on the stained, torn couch shoved against the far wall, and fell into a rejuvenating nap in front of an old movie playing on his television. Some time later, he awoke from his rest and found the hour to be late. In a rush he showered, changed into his security uniform, emailed his resume to a few 'now hiring' companies, and hurriedly drove to Mike's house. Somehow he managed to turn the would-be thirty minute drive into a barely-legal twenty minute one. If he was going to work the weekend, then he'd make the most of the free time he had.

"Hey, kid. Come on in." Mike swung the door open all the way, allowing entry into his home. At age 43, the late watchman wore a patch of salt-and-pepper stubble across his sharp cheekbones, and his head had begun to show signs of balding, but his sky-blue eyes still held a mischievous, youthful look about them. "Fritz'll be another twenty minutes or so. Some work stuff, he said. Wasn't very specific. He sounded pretty excited, actually. Go figure."

As the two made their way through the house, Mike stopped in the dining room and nodded towards the kitchen, where delicious smells wafted from, teasing their nostrils. "Kelly's baking Smith and I some goodies to enjoy while you spend the night fighting for your life. Sweet deal, huh?"

Mike's wife popped her head into view. "Some'un say mah name? Aw, evenin', Jerry! 'Course mah honey's gunna share with ya." The Southern blonde gave her husband a warning look. "Right, Mikey?"

"Aw, dear, do I have to?" Mike asked teasingly. "It'd be such a shame if he died and took your five-star brownies to the grave where no one could enjoy them."

"Michael!" The warning look instantaneously upped into a terrifying glare; one that could make death itself shrink away in cowardice. The poor man winced and dropped his gaze to the floor. "Yes, dear?" he asked quietly.

Kelly's anger seemed to fill the room, giving both male occupants a feeling similar to one a naughty child facing his condemnatory father might have.

"That's jes' a plain rude thing t' say! You of all people know that Jerry might very well die t'night! Uh, shoot, that ain't what I meant—"

Jeremy smiled a little, mentally attempting to push the subtle fear of the woman away. "No, I understand. It's fine."

But Kelly came over, clasped his hand in hers, and gave him a remorseful look. "No, honey, it ain't fine. It's jes' downright awful that yer job even exists, an' now they have ya workin' holidays? Ain't nothing more wrong 'n that! I know it ain't much, but I made a plate of brownies fer ya to take t'night." She sent a dark glance in her husband's direction. "Only fer ya."

Mike's jaw dropped. "Now, dear, let's be sensible—"

"Sensible? Ah'm showin' th' boy a little kindness, jes' like ah did t' you, when we firs' met! An' if you want t' talk 'bout sensibility, then how come yer jokin' 'bout yer best buddy potentially dyin' while you sit here an' play poker? You are in no place to speak on sensibility, Michael James Schmidt. Now why don't ya apologize an' go gamble yerselves dry?" She gave Jeremy a quick hug and sashayed back into the kitchen.

The two men stood in mild shock. "Your wife is rather . . . strong on certain subjects."

Mike gave a weak chuckle. "You've got that right. Heh, I should tell you about the time this dude from our insurance company paid us a visit 'cause our payment was a day late—"

"Ah kin hear you, Mikey, and I ain't hearin' no 'pology, either!" came Kelly's threatening caveat.

"Sorry, dear."

"Not t' me, ya doofus; t' Jerry! Sheesh, my sweetheart at times!"

"I heard that! And, uh . . . sorry, Jerry." Mike smirked. "You're blushing. She's mine, pal."

Jeremy looked away, silently cursing that embarrassing attribute of his. "Shut up, Schmidt. Let's go play some pool."


Two rounds later Mike was sweating bullets. The kid had gotten pret-ty good at pool. He was beginning to regret teaching him so well.

Jeremy propped himself up against the table and grinned at Mike. "A four and an eight left, Schmidt. Think you can get your—" he quickly took inventory of the remaining solids on the table—"six balls in first, Billiard Baron? I think not," he scoffed arrogantly.

Mike growled in response, knowing it was true but not admitting defeat just yet. He was about to shoot back a snarky reply when the basement door swung open, revealing Fritz Smith in a security uniform not unlike Jeremy's. "Hey, guys. So I actually have to leave in an hour or so, just an FYI." The teen glanced around and did a double take when he noticed Jeremy's attire. "Whoa, Jeremy. Where're you headed, a costume party?" He snickered, then noticed the others staring at him strangely. "What? My beard? Hey, it ain't much now, but—"

"Where are you going?" Jeremy asked.

"Uh, my job, later. At Fazbear's. My boss actually just promoted me to Jeremy's old position, as night guard. I still don't get why you quit, though, dude."

"But I have the shift tonight," Jeremy said, confused by this new information. "I figured you wouldn't start until Monday. Are you sure the boss said you'll start tonight?"

Fritz threw his hands up in annoyance. "For the love of—of course I'm sure! Why does everyone always assume I can't remember the simplest things? I'm 18! I'm not a kid anymore! I can do things by myself; including remembering things like dates and times and directions and—"

"Now, Fritz, we don't think that," Mike said in a calming voice, attempting to diffuse the situation.

"No, of course not," Jeremy lied, "but the boss told me that tonight would be my last shift—"

"The boss told me that you quit, and that I was replacing you! You're done! This is my job now!"

"Well, yeah, but I said that I had the shift tonight—"

"No, no, no! You quit! That means that you don't get to choose when your last day is! You're done!"

Jeremy and Mike shared a glance, both of them still bewildered by the sudden turn of events. On one hand Jeremy was irritated that his ex-boss had changed the arrangements without letting him know, but on the other he was relieved he actually didn't have to work over the holiday weekend for a measly extra fifty cents. Sure, the holiday was only Valentine's Day, but a holiday's a holiday. And a holiday means a break; either that, or a decent bonus. I.e., more than two quarters.

"Okay," he said, letting out a frustrated breath. Fritz was making such a fuss over nothing, and it was getting on his nerves, so he figured he ought to just roll with what was going on and keep the peace. "Sure. Whatever. You go into work tonight. I'll stay here and hang with Mike. We're both happy. Cool. Now let's just start up a round of Blackjack or something instead of sitting here arguing. Sound good?"

Fritz exhaled as well. "Yeah, sure, I don't care."

Mike flashed a toothy grin. "You better hope you get some good paychecks, because I've been practicing some new card strategies with my old man, and he says I could break the president's own bank. Ready to lighten your wallets, chumps?"

"In your dreams, Schmidt!" Jeremy laughed as he withdrew his billfold from his pocket. "I've been rethinking my betting tactics, and I think I'm ready to start putting only enough on the table."

The two turned to face Fritz, who fell into his assigned metal folding chair in front of the poker table and flashed both men an angry look, his face reddening. "Oh, I see. Let's all target the youngest guy at the table, who also happens to be the worst and least-experienced player, and the poorest one, too! You know. Sometimes I wonder if you only invite me here so that you can empty out my pockets!"

Mike rolled his eyes and rubbed his temples. "Actually, kid, that's not very far from the truth; though that's not my motivation for inviting you. Actually, that's why I invite everyone."

"That's kind of the point of poker," Jeremy threw in. "You win some, you lose some. Practice makes perfect."

A loud thump made the two ex-guards start. "That's what you always say, but I never get any practice! You two always just steal my money right away!" The teen slammed his fist down again. "You guys are just like everyone else: always taking advantage of me!"

"Fritz, we aren't—"

"Yes you are! I don't care what you say, it's still true and you know it, so don't even try to tell me I'm wrong!"

"Fritz, it's just a game, man. You don't have to play, you know."

"It's not just poker, it's everything! Every single thing I do, you always have something against it, or want to make it more difficult for me! You're always looking to benefit yourselves! WHY CAN'T YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?!"

A soft, steady thudding suddenly appeared from the basement stairs, and the door opened again, revealing Kelly carrying a platter filled with freshly-baked pastries in one hand and a six pack of Pepsi in the other. The three males turned to face her, each one's face bearing a surprised and guilty expression, but the woman took no notice. "Goodness, ya'll men are louder 'n Grand pappy's rusty ol' '64 Dodge pickup when it blew a gasket! Oh, an' Jerry, real sorry, but if Fritz is goin' ta work t'night while you stay here then he takes those brownies ah promised ya. But ah've got more o' 'em right here, so don't you fret!"


Fritz sped through the dark, lonesome streets to the pizzeria, angrily tearing into the brownies Kelly had given him on his way out. Despite being irritated with the two ex-guards, he'd stayed with them to eat a bit, play some games, and ultimately kill the length of time until his first night shift.

"Shouldn't have, though," he muttered to himself. He had a habit of talking to himself when he was under stress. "Psh, and I thought I was broke before. Thanks a ton, guys. Super helpful. Now my first paycheck won't even make it to the bank."

Sometimes he wished that he could meet up with Mike and Jeremy under different circumstances, where he didn't have to pay to play. At other times he wished he simply didn't know them at all. Sure, he could decide to stop meeting up with them, but he didn't want them to think him a sissy, not being able to take their teasing. Besides, these game nights were the closest thing to fun he ever got.

Even so, sometimes their crude humor really got on his nerves. Both older men often taunted him about being so poor. But Fritz was trying! Couldn't they see he was trying so hard? Couldn't they see that they were just making his situation worse? He just wished that they could realize that, when you're a tightwad, you can't help it when you're stuck living in your older brother's attic! You can't help it when you're stuck driving a beat-up 1990 Honda Civic with no air conditioning and a cracked windshield! Heck, you can't even help it when you're stuck working five part-time, minimum wage jobs!

"Yet every week, they gang up and rob who? Me! Mike's friggin' rich: take his money, Jeremy! Not mine!" In his fit Fritz accidentally ran a red light, causing him to pale and grip the steering wheel so hard his knuckles whitened. "No one saw that . . ."


Inside of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, Toy Bonnie (AKA TB) was bored. Jeremy wasn't due in for another twenty minutes, and the party wouldn't start until the human arrived.

Toy Freddy was sitting in the entrance hall with TB, but his mind was elsewhere. "I can't believe she said yes . . . The prettiest one . . . I wonder if she feels the same way about me as I do her . . ."

TB rolled his emerald green eyes—both at the question and the bear himself. The bear had been rambling on in a dreamy state for a few days now, and it was getting ridiculous. TB just couldn't understand it. What was so great about love? All it did was turn you into some stupid lunatic willing to do anything for a pretty girl and end up breaking your heart after some time. Single life all the way, that was his motto. But hey, to each his own, right? "Fred, of course Toy Chica likes you back! She's made it very clear to everyone that she likes you. Now can you please just quit babbling?"

"Yes, yes, whatever you say, TB," came the absentminded reply. "Mmmm, Toy Chi . . . Even her name is beautiful . . ."

The blue rabbit groaned, threw one last wistful glance out the window facing the parking lot, and rushed off into the depths of the dark pizzeria.


Toy Chi leaned back in the cushioned chair and lazily eyed the clock hanging on the dirty metal office wall. 11:43. She moaned and sat up. Toy Freddy had said that the party would start when Jeremy Fitzgerald arrived and the dance wouldn't start until 12:30. She moaned again. Although it was obvious that she and the bear were in love, Toy Freddy only really expressed his love during the holidays, most likely because he was so busy all the other nights seeking out the night guards. Most nights the animatronics all tried to stuff the guard into a spare animatronic suit, but during holidays they were rewarded for their skill and accepted into the animatronics' holiday celebrations.

Secretly Mangle and her liked Jeremy, but Toy Freddy didn't approve of actual relationships with the humans. Which made some sense, as the guards typically never lasted a week or two until they finally were caught or quit, but that didn't mean that the animatronics couldn't socially associate themselves with them did it? It was a good question, but Toy Freddy never seemed to have the time to actually have the time to answer. The usual response was a hasty "Because, it's for the best," or, "Just trust me on this one."

Ah, well. What could you do?

Toy Chi decided to touch up her makeup to pass the time, but as she reached for the small plastic case she heard static coming from the hallway. Looking up, she smiled in recognition and called out, "Hi, Mangle! How's it going?"

The battered white vixen dropped down from the roof and scurried into the office. "Fine, thanks! Looking forward to the dance?"

"What gives you that idea?"

Mangle laughed "Girl, this is the seventh time in forty-five minutes you've been messing with your pretty face! Not to mention all you've been talking about lately is Toy Freddy and the dance."

The chicken giggled sheepishly, knowing her friend spoke the truth. "Yeah, well, can you blame me? I mean, this is one of the rare times Freddy ever spends time with me and says 'I love you' to me."

"Oh, I don't blame you, sweetie. Frankly, I'm surprised you aren't spying on old Lover-Bear again, or vice versa."

Toy Chi returned to her makeup. "Mangle, we don't talk about that, remember? If TB finds out, then you'll find out what—hey, is there ever two messages on the phone in here?"

For indeed, the device's LCD flashed two voicemails.

Mangle looked puzzled. "I don't think so, the humans don't use this one for anything except for teaching the guards. Play the message."

"But we aren't supposed to mess with the human's stuff, remember?"

"Toy Freddy isn't here, and he won't find out. Play it."

"I don't know, I think we should respect—"

Mangle suddenly reached over and pressed the 'play' button.

"Well, okay, I guess that works too, then," Toy Chi mumbled as the voicemail began to play.

"Hello, hello, uh, what on earth are you—"

"Not that one."

"Uh. h-hey Boss, it's Fritz Smith. You know, Fitzgerald's replacement? Yeah, so he said that his last night was tonight. I told him that, you know, since he was done, he was just done, but I'm a little confused. Are you sure you wanted—I-I mean, I'm not saying you messed up or anything, of course not—but did you really mean for me to come in tonight? If I don't hear back from you I'll still come in, but some verification would be cool. Thanks, man, you're the best."

"Oh, no . . ."

Toy Chi looked up at her friend, startled by her unexpected reaction. "What is it?"

Mangle looked crestfallen and hung her head. "Well . . . I . . . fell in love with Jeremy. And he fell in love with me too. We were planning on being each other's valentines and announcing it during the dance, but now . . ." The heartbroken vixen couldn't finish.

Toy Chi felt horrible for her friend. She lay a sympathetic metal hand on her bare endoskeleton arm. "I'm sorry, sweetheart." But she suddenly brightened as she thought of something. "I know! Let's check and see where Jeremy's going!" With a grin she spun office chair around and, opening up the tall steel filing cabinet behind the desk, she began to rifle through files.

Barely lifting her head to watch, Mangle asked dully, "Going? What do you mean 'going?' Going where?"

"That Fritz guy said he was replacing Jeremy, remember? Maybe they're just switching positions here! I'm pretty sure I recognize that name, Fritz." A few moments later she gave a victorious cry and held up a single coffee-stained folder, labeled 'Fitzgerald.' "Look, Mangle! I found it!"

"You think that'll tell us where he's being moved to?" Mangle couldn't hide the slight excited hope in her voice.

"With luck, yes."

Toy Chi flipped open the folder and scanned its contents, page after page, but found nothing relevant until she turned to the last paper. She gasped at the words it bore, causing Mangle's gears to halt. "What? Wh-what is it?" she asked shakily, her voicebox catching.

The chicken couldn't look at her, feeling incredibly guilty for getting Mangle's hopes up. "Ah . . . This. I'm so sorry, Mangle." She held out the slip of pink paper.

"'Slip of termination?' What? Why would they fire him?" But her question was answered on the next line. "'Reason: resignation?'" Mangle dropped the slip, her jaw slack. "He . . . resigned? But why? I thought he c-cared about me…"

A sudden flash of light swept across the room, drawing both bots' attention. A pair of headlights swung into the parking lot, visible through the small, grimy office window.

"The new night guard is here," Toy Chi said in a feeble attempt to lift Mangle's crushed spirit. "Tonight should be fun, huh?"

But her attempt was only met with a mournful silence.


TB ran back to the entrance hall. "Fred! Jerry's here! About time, you know?"

Toy Freddy hadn't moved from his previous position in one of the plastic seats meant for customers waiting to be served. "And then I'll flip her around, and—oh, uh, yeah, that's great, TB. Go find the girls, will you?"

"They're talking in the office. Like, talking, talking."

The bear frowned. "Talking, talking? Like, talking, talking, or just talking, talking?"

"Talking, talking for sure."

"Gotcha. We'll catch them on our way to the main room when Jeremy comes in. Ah, and I believe that's him now!"

With the declaration of jingling keys the entrance door swung open, and a slim figure slipped inside.

"Surprise, Jeremy! Happy Val—" A long, high-pitched scream cut them off, and the figure darted past the them, disappearing into the pizzeria.

"Uh, Fred?" TB asked, confused and startled by the sudden turn of events. "Since when does Jerry have orange hair?"

Toy Freddy glanced down the hall, then back at TB with the same expression of confusion, though a bit of amusement flickered across his round face. "I don't think that was Jeremy, bud. I think that we just made a really bad first impression on a new night guard. We'll give him a minute to recollect himself, and in the meantime you and I can go alert the girls to this . . . new development." He turned and ambled down the long hallway, apparently deep in thought. TB hopped uncertainly along beside him. The office wasn't far, but the eerie silence made the short distance feel like miles.

"Hey, Fred," TB said quietly, "I wonder what happened to the other guard, you know? I mean, it's not that I have anything against new guys—don't get me wrong, I love 'em—but still. That old one was pretty good—" Toy Freddy growled at this—"I know, I know, but he was, and both he and us knew it. So why wouldn't he show tonight?"

The stocky orange-brown bear shrugged as he determinedly marched onwards. "It is the weekend, not to mention a holiday. Humans don't like working on either type of day, for some reason, so maybe the management found a Saturday-Sunday night guard. Or who knows, maybe they fired him. Remember what old Freddy told us? About how one of their night guards were fired for odor, and tampering with the animatronics, even though he didn't? Management fires the humans for even the smallest reasons, and Fitzgerald stank up that office, not to mention all of those times he went through the kitchen's food supply and the restaurant paperwork."

"Or maybe he quit," a bitter voice said, startling the pair. "Did that possibility ever cross your mind?"

TB couldn't hide his shock. "Quit? Why would he quit?"

Toy Chi had propped herself up against the wall of the office, her bright blue eyes downcast. "I don't know. Maybe to break poor Mangle's heart?"

Toy Freddy stiffened, his eyes going hard. The blue rabbit at his side felt uncomfortable, sensing the anger building inside of the bear. "Oh?" Toy Freddy asked sternly. "And why, exactly, is Mangle's heart broken over a lost guard?"

The animatronic chicken didn't back down, but returned the steely glare with one of her own, just as firm. "She loved him, if you must know. And Jeremy loved her back. Why? Do you have a problem with that?"

"As a matter of fact I do. You know quite well what I say about—"

Then she did something TB never imagined could even happen. In a moment, just the blink of an eye, Toy Chi was sitting atop the pinned-down Toy Freddy. TB gasped. "Chi! What are you—get off of him!"

"Scram, Bon!" came the angry response. "This doesn't concern you."

Not wanting to push the angry bird girl, TB slowly backed down the hall, glancing uneasily at his male friend, who simply gave him a tired look from the floor. "TB, if you aren't planning on getting this crazy featherball off of me then you might as well do as she says." So off TB ran, and Toy Freddy turned his attention to the upset chicken on top of him. "Go ahead, then. Tell me what's on your mind, and I'll set you straight."

"This wasn't just some guard, Freddy! Jeremy was different. He cared about us."

"Chi, honey, they all say that. Technically, they're hired to care about us. It doesn't mean anything."

"I know, but Jeremy really did care about us! He loves this place—and us. Remember that one time, on his first night, when TB scared him and he screamed? He felt really bad about that. And you're his favorite—well, aside from Mangle, but that's different—out of all of us, even me! He was also really nice to us, as I'm sure you've noticed, and he fell in love with Mangle. The Mangle you basically disowned after those kids tore her apart? Yeah, now someone likes her again. She wasn't depressed. She was happy. Now look, listen!"

A soft wailing could be made out from the buzz of the lights.

"It's almost like you don't want her to be happy, only us, so you say no—no—no close relationships with humans. We understand the possible consequences of them, but we don't care, and it should be our choice. It isn't fair for you to make that a rule, it doesn't make any sen—"

"I MADE THAT RULE FOR A GOOD REASON!"

Toy Chi froze, stunned. Toy Freddy never raised his voice, at humans or animatronics alike. The animatronic chicken recovered quickly. "Why, then? It doesn't make any sense. Not to the rest of us, that is."

Toy Freddy sighed. "Let me tell you a story old Bonnie told me when we were first powered on . . .

"He told me that, long ago, there were six animatronics, at their old location. Him and the others, of course, but also a golden rabbit and bear. When they roamed around at night they attempted to stuff their night guard, same as us. But the gold bear wanted to befriend the guard, and after awhile they spent nearly every night together, the gold bear and the human, while the other animatronics, aside from the gold rabbit, who was deactivated, tried to kill the night guard, no matter how much the gold bear pleaded with them to stop. They didn't want to stop because the guard spread horrible rumors about them, and due to the rumors the management forced the animatronics to remain on their stage during the day. As they wanted to see and interact with the children again they spent their nights attempting to eliminate the guard, in turn eliminating the rumors and freeing them from the stage. The gold bear didn't seem to care and remained friendly with the guard anyways."

Toy Freddy noticed Mangle slowly creeping over to Toy Chi, who now sat on the floor opposite the bear. When Mangle saw him staring she turned on her heels and scurried back behind the corner to listen without being seen. "One night the gold bear stayed onstage longer than usual, and when he finally arrived at the office he found Bonnie leaving it—night guard in tow. But the gold bear was faster than Bonnie, and managed to stop Bonnie from stuffing the guard. However, the gold bear was furious with Bonnie. He fought with him, broke his legs, and went to find Foxy, Bonnie's close friend. Inside of Pirate's Cove he found Foxy, shut down and charging, and tried to short him out with water. Fortunately, Freddy had seen the gold bear enter the Cove and followed him, and stopped him from doing much damage, but not before Foxy had been wet a little. Freddy deactivated the gold bear, but the other humans arrived before he could fix Bonnie's legs. The humans found him and repaired him, but the gold bear wouldn't power on, and he was later scrapped.

"Later that day Foxy glitched in the middle of a performance, and he began to follow his original programming, which included the free roam protocol. But when one of the humans went to deactivate Foxy he panicked, shouting and struggling. The human couldn't hold onto him, though, and he tripped. Since he was shouting his mouth was, obviously, opening and closing, and an unfortunate child was just a little too close, and . . ."

Toy Chi gasped. "The Bite of 1987!" she breathed.

"Yes. And because both Foxy and the gold bear displayed signs of issues, the city figured it would only be a matter of time until Freddy, Chica, and Bonnie malfunctioned, possibly producing worse results than the Bite of '87, so they told the owners of the pizzeria to update their animatronics. But they couldn't afford the hefty price it'd take to do so, and that location was shut down, their animatronics brought here to be used as parts for us. Do you girls understand the rules now?"

Mangle had summoned the courage to seat herself a few feet behind Toy Chi, and she wore a contemplative expression now.

"Because the gold bear liked the night guard," Toy Chi said slowly, "he hated his family for trying to get their freedom back. And when they succeeded he hurt two of his family members, one of which killed a child later on due to his injuries, and then they lost their home because of his actions. I understand now, Freddy. I'm sorry—I didn't know." Toy Chi hadn't known nearly anything about their original counterparts until that moment. How awful, for them to have to had endured all of those unfortunate events that led to nothing but a slow and painful death! She immediately regretted all of those rude remarks and thoughts she'd ever made regarding the old 'bots.

Toy Freddy stood and nodded sympathetically. "It's all right; I'm sorry too. I should have told you my reasoning behind the rule so that it didn't feel quite so unfair. I also owe you, Mangle, an apology. I shouldn't have treated you the way I did. I'm sorry."

To the bear's great surprise the mangled vixen leapt onto his chest and hugged him. "I f-forgive you."

"Awwwwwww!" TB slapped his hand against his mouth. He hadn't meant for that to slip out, but . . . it had. Mangle started and fell back, embarrassed. Toy Freddy only raised his eyebrows and gave a slight nod in his direction, then in Mangle's: you and her?

TB felt his circuits heat up and turned away. Fortunately Mangle didn't notice, although Toy Chi did and stifled a laugh behind a coughing fit.

Mangle threw her a strange look, as she was pretty sure that animatronics didn't actually cough, but she decided to not question it. She turned to Toy Freddy. "Erm—Freddy? So, uh…" It felt a little strange talking to the bear again; it'd been several months since he'd rejected her after some children had partially dismantled her. Toy Freddy had been disgusted at her for simply allowing kids, pathetic mini humans, to overpower and take advantage of her. Her actions—or, rather, lack of them— had been 'unwise, thoughtless, and injured the pride of being an animatronic—' the bear's own words.

But things were different between them now; Toy Freddy had apologized, she shouldn't be afraid to talk to him again. They'd been friends before, and they could again. Mangle looked up at him and began again. "If you don't mind my asking, why do we still hunt the night guards? It's not that I don't enjoy it, I just wonder why we do it."

Toy Freddy shrugged. "Keeping the tradition, I suppose you could say." He glanced behind him and made to leave. "You three, stay here. I'm going to see about the—"

"The party?" TB interrupted excitedly.

"—the night guard. Then we can party, m'kay? Why don't you all, ah, partner up while I'm gone?" he said in a teasing tone, wiggling his eyebrows at TB and grinning like a child.

The females laughed as TB's face heated up. "I—we—wha—huh?" he spluttered. "Er—you—F-Freddy!" But the bear had already disappeared down the hall. TB sagged, but suddenly stood up straight when a tap on his back startled him. "M-Mangle?!" he exclaimed, whirling around to face her.

Mangle gave him a sly smile. "Hey, big guy. Heard you were looking for a partner for Valentine's Day."

TB groaned.

Author's Note:

Well, here it finally is! Chapter One! Okay, a few things I want to say. One, I apologize to anyone that dislikes the nicknames I gave the characters. I personally don't care much for 'TB,' much less 'Toy Chi,' and I'm saying nothing against those of you who like those names! Just not my preference, okay? Of course you all are probably wondering, if you don't like it, then why don't you change it? Well, remember, I wrote this a year ago. I've read this story many times, and while I don't really like the nicknames, I grew to love these characters, and it'd feel like a sin to rename them now. You authors will probably understand what I mean. Two, I just want to comment on how much fun it was to write out Kelly's dialog! Just in case of you are offended by her slightly exaggerated southern drawl, I'm really sorry, while at the same time not sorry at all. And lastly, I just want to tell you all that while all of my characters are unique—and this applies to all of my stories—I put at least a tiny bit of myself into each and every one of them. It kind of helps me feel like I can understand them better, and in turn write them better. So many of you are learning bits about me and you don't even realize it, and those of you that do know me'll feel that happy little buzz of déjà vu if you catch that piece of the guy you know in the story. Maybe that makes sense, maybe it doesn't, I'm really just speaking for myself here. Anyway.
What did you all think? I'm anxious to hear, so go ahead and let me know! The second chapter should be here in a few days' time, so don't fret if you enjoyed this story! I'm super hyped about posting this story online for all of you to see, and I hope some of you share my enthusiasm towards reading my work. I will see you all soon! (Figuratively, not actually see you, don't worry, I'm not some weird stalker or something.) Have an awesome day, and a great Valentine's Day! Tell someone close that you love them!