It was "Foxglove Friday" again, the yearly town dance celebrating the radio tower that put Eaten on the map. Every year, Chell and Wheatley would get all mushy with each other, and every year, Sophie Newell would sit alone, daydreaming about her future career in medicine. But this year was different.

This year, she had Jay Pinkerton to worry about.

The first time Sophie had met the boy, back when he first moved in, her heart had skipped at least two beats, the Aperture nanobots scattered throughout her body had a field day trying to figure out why she was suddenly five degrees warmer, and all the while she had stammered helplessly. Now, on the night of Foxglove's anniversary, Sophie's hormone-addled brain had presented her with a stupid, impulsive, monumentally terrible idea: "I could ask Jay to the dance."

For the first time in her life, Sophie understood what it was like to be her father, who she knew from experience was just as bad when it came to love...


Valentine's Day, 6 years ago

"Got you something," Wheatley said as he stumbled through the door with a bouquet of flowers, "here it is! Gypsophila, lovely isn't it. What does it mean- it means "Lover of chalk," although ironically, it grows better in clay soil! Weird isn't it? You think you've got it down and then BAM! You do some reading and it turns out it likes clay soil, even though you thought it was lover of chalk! Heh, weird."

Chell waited for Wheatley to finish his speech, then smiled a little as he got back on track. "It's, uh, Valentine's Day." He explained. "And I thought: What does a boyfriend get his girlfriend on Valentine's Day? And I came up with this!" "Although, come to think of it," he went on, "You're not really one for flowers, are you? Not really one for… gifts at all, really. Maybe if I'd gotten you baking flour, it would have been- Oh, you're keeping them!"


Sophie shuddered at the memory. In her opinion, no one should have to be exposed to such heavy awkwardness at the tender age of eight. It was that experience that had turned her off to the whole idea of romance until now. But then Jay had happened, and suddenly the thought of being alone tonight seemed like too much to bear.

"Hey Sophie?"

Jay's voice jolted Sophie out of her indecisive agony, and she noted that her heart skipped three beats this time. "Y-yeah?"

"I kind of don't have a partner. Would you like to dance?"

"Um, me? S-sUre! " Sophie gasped as her nanite infused voicebox chose that moment to glitch (or maybe it was just puberty), "I'm...not very good."

"Neither am I, good thing we're alone huh? "

With that, they begin awkwardly slow dancing, and Wheatley was pleased to see his daughter finally joining the party.

Wait, was that a BOY?!

Oh boy, Jay's got an overly complicated trap with his name on it. I have another internet cookie for anyone who knows where I got Wheatley's flower monologue.

"Foxglove Friday" isn't my idea either, I got it from "My Funny Friend and Me" by Codynaomiswireart.