February serves as a sort of break from the more intense holiday season that comes before it. You have the winter holidays, then comes the new year, January is the start of a brand new year full of new (and mostly later forgotten) resolutions and that 'new' feeling starts to fade by February first. So what characterizes February? Valentines day. Now that might be good enough for anyone who sells cards, or candy, or flowers even and also if you'er the romantic type with a significant other. If you don't have such a person in your life you can always take the day to share with other loved ones, friends, family. But what if you didn't really have much of anyone to share it with? What would you do? You could ridicule it, call it a 'waist of time-Hallmark holiday', you could just hate it in general and become the Scrooge of Valentines day, or you could just spend the day feeling miserable and sorry for yourself. Grell Sutcliff had tried them all. Sadly, being the true romantic he was he eventually slumped back into the third option, making the holiday an annual event of ice-cream and crying into the pages of old romance novels. It was sad, really, those books probably received more love and affection than some people may get their whole lives. Grell was so fully passion and heart, it just didn't seem fair to him. And because a book couldn't coo or kiss or cuddle (that is not to say Grell had not tried the last one.) the redhead went every year the same way, starved for affection.

Grell woke up slowly. He laid there, the morning light from his window starting to register in his head that was still half foggy with sleep. He let out a groan like a drowsy cat and stretched sluggishly under his crimson colored sheets. The reaper sighed and opened his eyes as he reached for his glasses on the nightstand. He slipped out of bed and stood, pushing his glasses up as he rubbed his eyes. As hard as he tried to avoid the fact, it was blaring so obnoxiously in his mind that it was as if it was knocking on his forehead. It was the 14th. Bloody February 14th. He started out grumpy. He kicked past his red fluffy slippers and made his way into the kitchen barefoot. He set out to make tea, clumsily. "I don't think I'll go to work today. Nope. Today I think I'll just stay home and sleep." He walked to his calendar and tore away the 13th page, staring at the page under it. "I think I'll sleep right on through to the 5th." he huffed, tearing the "February 14th: Valentines day" page off as well. He threw them both into the wastepaper basket and made his way gloomily to his bathroom. He shut the door behind him then turned, suddenly faced by his own reflection in the mirror. He felt bothered by his appearance, as if afraid he wouldn't be presentable for someone that didn't exist and set to frantically brushing out his hair. He slowed to a pause, staring at himself again. What was the matter with him? He asked the mirror, looking back into his own green eyes. He looked down at the laced nightgown that clung pitifully to everything that resembled a curve. He smoothed out the short little dress, as if trying to find some pretty figure in it. His stomach turned, the resistance phase was over, now came the tears. "Ugly." He stated as if informing someone of his professional opinion, serious and final. Some sudden burst of emotion sent him straight back to his bed, burying his face in a pillow. He fought tears as if crying meant he had lost against the horrid holiday and rolled over on his back, taking the pillow in his arms with a dramatic gasp of a sob. He knew he couldn't spend all day by himself, he would go mad. (More so, at least.) But he was in no mood to work, and even after work William and his coworkers would be 'too busy' with their own plans (yes even William. Most likely a romantic date with his paper work, I assume.) and even Undertaker had that damn skeleton and he could just forget the Phantomhive manor! He had no one… Grell swallowed quietly, blinking. He got a sudden, warm, childish desire. He felt embarrassed at the very thought, putting the pillow aside. Despite all embarrassment he got up and walked to the kitchen, poured his tea and drew the crumpled calendar pages from the wastepaper basket. He looked at the backs curiously, yes, red. The backs of the pages for February were a lovely shade of red. He scoffed softly, but yet proceeded back to the bedroom. Almost against his will he salvaged some lace off an old costume and unearthed his old scissors in the drawer of his writing desk. He sat down frowning, seeming almost disappointed in himself… he was making a card. The reaper worked at it quietly, his tea going cold as he started to write on his creation. "This is so childish." He he sighed, holding it up to inspect it. He sat it back down and signed it. 'From your most adoring red reaper, Grell Sutcliff'. There was no way he could deliver it, he sat looking at it a while…then he remembered work. Hastily he got dressed and grabbed his things then paused. Maybe he should take the card with him? He blinked, that sounded awful silly, he had no intensions of delivering it…still…he took it, tucked it lovingly into his coat and was on his way.

He slipped to his desk more quietly than he had ever before. Almost as if, without thinking about it, he was trying to go unnoticed…something that seemed to go against the redheaded man's very being. He sat down and sighed, then took out the card, holding it up to look at it again. He sighed, his chest starting to feel heavy. "I wonder if he would like it…" a soft pink color came to his cheeks.

"If 'he' is me and 'it' is that late paperwork, I'm sure I'll like it just fine." a voice said cooly from behind the card. Grell's blush rapidly progressed to a bright red as he stashed the card under some discarded papers on his desk. William stood before him, no flicker of change in his expression.

"I was…just getting to that!" Grell said quickly, shuffling the papers about, hoping to avoid any mention of the card.

"Hm." William said simply, turning to leave. "Try not to let your art projects slow your getting into work from now on, alright?" and with that he was gone. Grell blinked, finding his card and pocketing it sheepishly.

"He probably wouldn't like it…" He muttered to himself, answering his question after William had interrupted. But the more he thought about it, the less he could focus on anything else. (Not that office work ever held Grell's attention for long.) At last he managed to eek out a handful of reports and placed them on William's desk. William looked at the papers, at Grell, then back at the papers. He exhaled, sliding the papers toward himself.

"Well, I'm impressed." he muttered, adjusting his glasses. He shifted in his chair, "What do you want?" he said, folding his hands and resting his chin on them. Grell grinned, the dark-suited man knew him so well.

"A reason to get out of this building. I don't really care what I just want to walk." He watched William adjust his glasses slowly.

"Then just go walk. You'er not looking all that productive today anyway."

As Grell stepped out onto the street he smiled to himself, "I wonder if Willy has ever had a valentine~ If so, I hope she was short… a short girl would look cute next to William." he said softly to himself. Maybe that was just what he needed, maybe he needed to see all of the people he enjoyed being near. Sure, none of them had much time for him and sure, none of them would want to be his valentine but it was still better then sitting around by himself all day. Deciding he would do just that, he turned toward the Undertaker's shop, humming softly. When he arrived he gave the door a tug and it opened with the chime of a bell. "Undertaker~?" he peeked into the dusty shop. "Hello~?" He called, creeping in slowly. He sighed, looking around as he eased the door shut, "Why is the lighting always so gloomy in here?"

"Because I have far to many sleeping customers to risk disturbing them!" A voice cackled, making the redhead jump. Undertaker came out from one of the coffins and smiled in greeting. "Hello! Come to look at coffins?"

"Just to visit, I'm afraid. I think I'm a little to claustrophobic to sleep in one of those things, anyway."

"If you wanted more room, you could sleep in one built for to two bodies."

"Then I would just feel lonely~" Grell smiled slightly, he appreciated the Undertaker's morbid personality more than most.

"Well the least you can do is sit on one, come in. I made tea and it's not even cold yet!"

"Thats pretty fresh for you." Grell commented, finding a seat and turning to face the other reaper.

"Considering I work with dead people for a living it's a wonder I keep anything warm!" the silver-haired man giggled eerily. "Just come to visit, hmm? Sounds like you'er lonely to me~" he called, rummaging around his desk.

"Thats true." Grell admitted, pulling his feet up onto the coffin and hugging his knees. "I was hoping I could find some company with you~" he grinned, it was his first trademark toothy-grin all day.

"You can stay for tea and biscuits! Ehhh Regrettably I have somewhere to go in a hour or so~ People get buried on holidays too!" he joked. Grell raised an eyebrow, until then he wasn't even sure the old reaper knew what month it was let alone the day. He was sharper than he came across as.

"I'll stay for some tea I suppose, I've escaped work for the day so why not?" Suddenly he remembered his card and touched the pocket where he had stashed it. Still there.

For the next hour Grell endured overly strong, cold tea and chatted with the old Undertaker. Finally, not wanting to hold him up from his work any longer, Grell exited the shop and watched the other reaper load up his little cart with a heavy coffin and ride off. Starting to feel alone again, Grell walked back towards the thinning, but still crowded street. He didn't do too much walking among humans if he could help it. His appearance and mannerisms never failed to raise a few eyebrows among reapers and even demons, but to humans he came off a bit more strange. However, today his mind was elsewhere and to some degree, even walking near strangers made him feel less alone. He looked at the faces of people he passed and what they were carrying. Here and there he saw wrapped packages and flowers, similar gifts probably waiting for them with who they planned to give their's to. He wondered to himself what it would be like to receive flowers. Who would it be and why, what would he say? The truth was Grell wasn't the type who got to say 'thank you' very often. There were also a good number of people who were doing late errands and shopping for items for dinner. Dinner, already? For what was normally a long day for Grell, the day had felt relatively short. Soon the 15th would be here and the whole problem would be buried for another year. Deep down and out of sight like the man in Undertaker's casket, how would his loved ones view valentines day now-? Smack! Grell collided with another figure in the street. His mind wandering like it was it was a wonder it hadn't happened sooner. A bag of groceries came crashing to the dress shoes facing Grell's and those around them paused for a moment in natural surprise and then moved on past them. Grell sighed, frustrated, "I'm sorry, I should have looked where I was going." He grumbled, looking up from the grocery bag at his feet.

"Accidents happen I suppose. But of all the people how odd that we should bump into each other." the butler Sebastian said with dash of amusement in his eyes. Grell's stomach turned to butterflies,

"S-Sebastian!" he started, backing up. The demon eyed the other darkly,

"Keeping out of trouble, red reaper?" he asked, picking up his bag. "Behave yourself." he said casually, as if his words had been any old passing greeting and disappeared into the stream of people. Grell watched where he had gone long after he was out of sight. He felt the urge to run after the butler, then feeling embarrassed and shy he retreated from the busy sidewalk to walk along the back alleys instead. As he walked he thought of his card again and touched the pocket, nothing. His heart skipped a beat. Where had it gone? He turned every pocket and fold on him inside-out and to his dismay, no card. "It doesn't matter." he tolled himself, yet he started to look around him. "I wasn't going to do anything with it anyway. I had no intention of delivering it!" He cried under his breath as he hurried back to retrace his steps. He walked clear back to the Undertaker's shop and then, with a heavy heart, he headed home. Although the sidewalk was becoming much more sparse, he walked in the alleys. He felt ashamed, as if everyone that saw him was aware he had lost the card (or made it at all for that matter). Close to tears and tired from walking across town all day, Grell stopped and sat slumped against a wall in a dark ally. He patted his pocket and searched his coat again in vain when finally a sob broke through and the whole wall came tumbling down. He sobbed into his hands pitifully. The card was lost but it was so much more than that that had brought on the tears. No one wanted him, no one ever would. How could something like love hurt him so deeply? Why did he need it so bad? He cried until he felt no tears left in him and he hid his face in his knees, heaving quietly from all of his sobbing. With the street turning quiet and the night becoming so still the hand that touched his shoulder startled him with a violent jump. For a moment he felt unresponsive, looking up into those red-brown eyes. Then he let out some sound of realization and the eyes became knowingly half-lidded.

"Sebastian." Grell managed to mutter the name, feeling more embarrassed than ever. The demon smiled and shifted slightly, crouching a bit more than he had before, making his eyes a bit more level with the reaper.

"You'er just always up to trouble, aren't you?" he asked. Grell felt fresh tears coming on,

"No! I haven't done anything! I've been walking all day, you can ask Undertaker I haven't been causing any-" He paused as the demon pressed something paper into his hands. He looked down at the black words on the red paper;

'Dearest Sebastian, Our paths have crossed far to often for some of it not to have been fate. My heart is open to you should you ever want it. From your most adoring red reaper, Grell Sutcliff'

Grell's cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment.

"It was in my bag when I arrived at the manor. In all my years of living I have rarely celebrated human holidays or received the gifts that come with them. I'll have you know that no one has ever given me a card on Valentines day." He said, locating a white handkerchief from his coat pocket. Grell looked at him in disbelief,

"Never? You?"

"Never me." Sebastian replied, blotting the reaper's damp cheeks. Grell's blush darkened,

"So you didn't think it was…childish?"

"No, not childish. It was thoughtful." The butler smiled slightly and stashed his handkerchief. He helped the other to his feet and looked him in the eyes. "Obviously I had not made plans to return such a favor… still, I wanted to say thank you." He watched Grell smile brightly,

"Thank you, too." He looked around then at the card, holding it out to the demon. "Would you… maybe- If you ever wanted to- Provided you had the time… want to be my valentine?" He held his breath, looking at the other. Sebastian hesitated, then took the car and looked at it for a moment.

"Fate." he read the word aloud. "If our meeting each other was fate, Grell Sutcliff…then what an entrance you made." The butler leaned against the wall, blocking Grell to one side as if he might run away. "As for being your valentine, all I can say is that I'll give it a try. I've never been one before, you know." Grell smiled at him,

"Me neither."

"Well then, lets both give it our best." Sebastian said quietly before pressing a kiss to the other's lips.