The Muirs, Martha, Ed, Claymore, and Daniel belong to the original show. The rest belong to Mary and me. The inspiration for this struck today and I wanted to get it out on the actual holiday, and it couldn't have been posted without the help of my "sister" in friendship, Mary's beta-ing.

Valentines to Heaven

Amanda

Valentine's Day, 1978

"There's almost too many flowers on the table for us to eat," Jonathan Muir observed.

"Now, lad, don't resort to hyperbole," Daniel Gregg chided gently. "When ladies as lovely as we have in this house reside, such gestures are fitting at any time, especially on days such as this."

"Thank you, Daniel," Carolyn Muir beamed as she entered the formal dining room.

"It's just a made-up holiday, not an important one like Easter or Christmas," Candy Muir sighed. It had been eight months since the love of her life, Tristan Matthews, had literally vanished, and events celebrating romance were galling.

"It's at least poorly timed," Jenny Williams, her cousin and foster-sister added unhappily. Her boyfriend, Dave Farnon, had the flu. "I mean, couldn't it take place when people are less likely to be coughing, contagious, and feverish?"

"I'm sure the lad will make up for it when he's well," Lord Dashire commented as he appeared.

Out of consideration for the melancholy Candy was going through, Carolyn and Daniel were downplaying the romantic angle on Valentine's Day, just slightly, and having a family dinner instead of something more intimate. They could have a private celebration later, after all. The Peaveys, Claymore, Sean O'Casey, Dash, and Adam had all shown up for the event.

"Yeah. He can get flowers and candy, I mean, chocolates, not you — Candy, cheaper, after the big day is over. It'll all be fifty percent off tomorrow, and if you wait a week, seventy-five percent off," Claymore announced with authority. "Well, the flowers won't be on sale next week, they'd be wilted, but you won't pay the holiday premium for them." He adjusted his glasses and frowned at the table. "Not that any more are needed. Sheesh."

"I believe Dave sent the carnations there to Candy, Martha, and Carrie," Sean pointed. "And that single, red rose to Jenny."

"There's flowers from EVERYONE," Jonathan said with a shake of his head. "Uncle Sean picked some flowers from Uncle Dash's garden."

"So did Adam," Adam himself remarked. "His roses are prettier than the ones in the shops."

"Uncle Dash sent that exotic-looking bouquet," Jon continued. " The Captain got pink roses for the girls and red ones for Mom. And Uncle Ed got pansies. Like I said, we don't have room to eat for all that stuff." He shook his head again. "I'm glad you didn't bring any."

"Well, I knew that the other guys would go overboard," Claymore said, preening over his own wisdom.

"Don't tempt me, Claymore," Daniel said, thinking how delightful it would be to toss the miser overboard.

"Be nice, Captain," Martha said, bustling in with a cart containing dinner.

"Daniel is NOT nice, Martha, you know that," Carolyn winked.

"Or sweet, yes, I know," she agreed with a laugh.

"And do not forget it," the seaman chuckled.

Conversation ebbed and flowed throughout the meal, yet despite Adam's ready wit, Dash's easy praise of all the ladies, Sean's charm, and Daniel's suaveness, Candy remained downcast the entire time.

As she rose to help Martha clear up, the girl offered to wash the dishes and turned to go do so, but her mother stopped her.

"Candy—"

"I'll be okay, Mom. It — it just feels like there's a lot of gaps at the table." She attempted a smile that just was not convincing.

"I know what you mean," Jenny spoke up. "I still miss my parents, and you know, it seems harder the second year than the first."

"That's because you expect it the first time," Sean said quietly. "But, you think you'll be healed by the next time."

"That's true," Dash said quickly, before anyone could ask Sean whom he had lost. "Valentine's wasn't the commercially huge holiday it is now, in my lifetime. Nothing was as commercial then, come to think of it. But, anniversaries still were painful."

"Yes," Daniel agreed. "I still miss my parents and my aunt at odd times."

"I miss Mama," Martha sighed. "And I love Ed, but I miss Joe, once in a while."

"There's probably a dozen friends who are still alive that I've just lost touch with and miss, but it's hard to reconnect," Carolyn mused. "I do wish my grandmother had seen you kids."

Ed Peavey and Claymore both looked downcast, thinking about lost family and friends.

"I didn't mean to depress you all," Candy flushed.

"Nonsense, dear girl," Daniel said, taking her hand. "You are in pain and today rubs salt in that wound. If you can't express that around those who love you, then whom can you do it with? Just remember, not all love is about romance. And, sometimes, love does bring pain, for the good of the one loved."

She gave him a dubious look.

"This may be a nutty idea," Adam said suddenly.

"We expect that from you, so say it anyway," Dash jibed.

"Funny. It seems that I've heard of sending Valentines to Heaven. Tying a note to a balloon and letting it go. It's supposed to be — healing — in a way."
"Tris isn't — he didn't go there," Candy choked out. "Or, did he go to the light?" She looked at her foster-dad.

"Not that I know of," he said gently. "I think that's a fine idea, Adam. And even though the lad is not in Heaven, yet, well, maybe a balloon could find its way to him? Who knows?"

"Do you have any balloons?" Ed asked pragmatically.

"Uh, yeah," Jonathan said.

"Were you planning on bombing someone with water balloons?" his mother asked.

"April first isn't that far off... "

"This is a better use," Sean said. "D'ya want to get them, lad?"

"Yeah. Good idea," he nodded and exited.

"Helium?" Dash asked.

"There's a pump in my shop," Ed said. "If one of you guys would—"

Dash vanished, reappearing just as Jonathan returned.

"Why do you have helium?" Carolyn asked.

"Because every time the town council decides to have a parade or event, they need some, so I started keeping it around."

"See why he keeps getting reelected? He's a man of vision," Claymore cheered.

For the next half-hour, the notes were written and then, the balloons were filled. The family then each took one or more and went outside.

"Should we pray or something?" Claymore asked.

"I think not. This isn't religious," Daniel said thoughtfully. "It's something else. Just silently say what you need to, then let your missive take flight."

If their mental voices could have been heard, the sounds might have been like this:

Happy Valentine's Day, Aunt Violet, Mother, Father.

I forgive you, Bobby. Happy Valentine's, Grandma.

I miss you, Mama, Daddy.

Hope you're okay, Billy.

Molly, love, are ye there? I'm still looking.

Mother, Father? It's me, your son. Can you hear me? Happy Valentine's Day. The balloon was free.

Joe, I'm happy now. I love you.

Guess you're okay up there, Dad. Martha's a good woman, you'd like her.

Aislynn, take care of the kids. Don't let them be too harsh in their thoughts of me.

Tris, I love you. Why did you go?

I have no idea why I suggested this. Hope it helps someone. Grandfather, or Mother. If anyone's listening, Happy Valentine's Day and all that jazz.

They watched the colored spheres drift over the ocean, then Adam announced he was taking the kids, unattached ghosts, and Claymore out for sodas. Ed said it was time he and Martha got on home, and the Master and Lady of the house had the rest of the evening alone.