Doug wasn't sure whether or not he should shave his beard or just trim it again. He had an hour before dinner and he was nervous as hell.
"I don't even have anything nice to wear," he said to the Cup as he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.
"You'll be fine, Doug," the Cup insisted. "Relax. Breathe. You're going on a date with a lovely young woman. You're not going up against GLaDOS."
"This almost makes me feel worse," he said. "God, my stomach is doing backflips."
"Isn't that nice, though?" the Cup asked. "My Dougie is in love! It's so adorable!"
"Oh, shut up," he muttered. "It's not that big a deal."
"Then why are you so nervous?"
"Because I just know that I'm going to embarrass myself tonight."
Spencer and Wheatley worked on fixing up one of the empty apartments on the second floor. They carried a couch into the empty living room, and did their best to dust off every surface. Spencer even placed some candles around the room and set up some dark drapes over the windows.
"Now if you'll excuse me," Wheatley said, "I'm off to do other, more interesting things."
"Like what?" Doug asked as Wheatley passed him in the living room.
"Just….things," Wheatley said, reaching out for the patio door. "You know, socializing and whatnot. It's not weird that I want to socialize with the people in this town."
"You only have one person in mind, though," Doug murmured.
"What was that?"
"Nothing," Doug said. "Have fun socializing."
"Thank you," Wheatley said, tilting his head to look down his nose at Doug. "And you have fun on your date."
Doug didn't respond as Wheatley left through the patio door.
"Hey, Doug," Spencer said. "Val wanted me to tell you to meet her up there. She's almost ready and wants to surprise you. She rarely puts on makeup."
"Oh, uh, okay?" Doug said.
"Good luck, Doug!" the Cup said as he made his way out into the hall.
He went down to the end of the hall and ascended a flight of stairs. He knew exactly which room to go into. Spencer and Wheatley had been talking about room 22 all afternoon. He shut the door behind him and sat down on the couch. There wasn't really much else to do in the empty apartment.
"I hope I'm not underdressed," he mused as he looked down at himself. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt with a faded picture of the Jack Daniel's whiskey label. He'd wanted to put on something more formal, but Spencer had insisted on going casual.
"Trust me," he'd said. "Val won't want to have this be all formal. The more casual the better."
"How casual is a candlelit dinner, though?" Doug murmured as he eyed each vanilla-scented candle that glowed dimly.
He sat awkwardly on the couch for about five minutes, trying to focus on the candlelight and not on the shadows dancing around the room. Why did it have to be so damn dark in here? Was candlelight really so romantic?
He jumped when he heard the door open behind him. He turned around and saw Valentine walking into the apartment. She wore a flowing blue skirt with a purple blouse. As she walked around the couch and sat down next to Doug, he noticed that she was wearing light makeup of blues and purples. He realized why the candlelight was romantic as the shadows danced around her face, making her appear mysterious and beautiful.
"Y-You look nice tonight," Doug said bluntly.
"Thanks," she said quietly. "You, too. Nice shirt."
"Spencer picked it out," Doug admitted. "I usually don't wear stuff like this."
"Well, it looks good anyway."
There was a pause in the conversation that made Doug feel uncomfortable.
"Oh!" Valentine suddenly said. "Spencer arranged Uncle Phil to deliver dinner. In case you were wondering where the food was. Because I invited you to dinner."
"Y-Yeah."
"Do me a favor," she continued with a nervous smile. "Stop me if I start rambling. I'm terrible at this sort of thing."
Doug laughed a little, glad that he wasn't the only one. "You're doing fine," he said. "So, uh…Your dad worked at Aperture?"
"Yeah," Valentine said. "Actually, he was a…janitor."
"Oh?" Doug asked. Then realization hit him. "Oh! Arty! Yeah, I remember him!"
"You do?" Valentine asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah! He was a nice guy. Dirty blonde hair, super tall?"
Valentine smiled. "That was him," she said. "Did he ever talk to you?"
"Not really," Doug said. "I mean, he would greet everybody in the halls and was pretty polite."
"He was very charismatic," Valentine agreed. "He wasn't very ambitious and he loved finding ways to get away with doing the bare minimum, but he knew how to treat people."
"Ah," Doug said. "Well, um, what did your mother used to do?"
"Construction work," Valentine said. "She would usually operate the cranes and bulldozers."
"Really?" Doug asked, sounding a bit too surprised.
"Yeah, people usually don't expect to hear that my mom did construction work," Valentine said understandingly. "The heavy-lifting really messed up her back. In the winter, her arthritis is almost unbearable."
"Oh. That's too bad."
"So what about your parents? What did they used to do?"
"My dad was a high school teacher for world history," Doug said.
"Huh. I don't think I had him as a teacher. What about your mom?"
"She sold clothes at a local boutique. I think it was called Amy's Boutique or something."
There was another silent pause as they just looked around the room.
"Sorry," Valentine said. "I don't know how this is supposed to go. I've only ever had one boyfriend."
"I've only ever been on one date," Doug admitted. "And that was prom."
"I'm guessing she didn't stick with you."
"You'd be right."
"Sorry."
There was a knock on the door before Doug could respond. The two looked at each other for a moment in confusion.
"I'll get it," Doug offered, getting up. He went to the door and opened it to find Phil pushing a metal cart.
"Doug! Good to see you!" he said, clapping Doug on the back. "How are you doing? Where's my little Valentine? It's so dark in here."
"Over here," Valentine said. "Spencer thought that a candlelit dinner would 'set the mood'."
Phil laughed. "Is that so?" he asked. "That kid! Anyway, here's your dinner. I don't wanna keep you from your date. You kids have a good time. And Doug, treat my niece right."
"Uh, yeah," Doug said nervously. "Of course I will."
Phil left them alone again as abruptly as he'd shown up. On the cart were two plates that were covered with silver dome lids. Doug pushed the cart over to the couch and handed one of the plates to Valentine.
"Thanks," Valentine said and removed the lid. "Ooh! This looks delicious!"
Doug removed his own lid and found the same meal. The plate held a seasoned round chop of steak with mashed potatoes and green beans piled next to it. Doug chuckled softly.
"What's up?" Valentine asked.
"He must have remembered that this was my favorite meal," Doug explained.
There was another, much longer pause as they sat and ate their dinner on the couch. Doug wished that he could think of something interesting to say but his mind drew a blank. He just focused on trying not to scarf down his food like an animal.
"Do you think I'm weird?"
Doug quickly looked up from his plate at Valentine. "Hm?" he asked with a mouthful of potatoes.
"It's just…I know that it's weird for me to be so into dark stuff. But do you find that unattractive?"
Doug swallowed his food before answering. "No, of course not," he said. "It makes you more interesting."
Valentine looked down at her plate. It was nearly empty now. "I just….Sometimes I think I'm crazy."
Doug couldn't help but laugh at this. "You think that you're crazy?" Then he suddenly stopped laughing as he remembered something from the previous night. "Hey, uh, Marie mentioned something last night when you were upset."
"Oh god," Valentine groaned. "Marie heard that? I feel awful now."
"Well, she mentioned that you talk to someone."
Valentine looked up from her plate and met Doug's gaze. "She did?"
"Yeah," Doug said hesitantly. "Someone named Lance?"
"Fuck," Valentine murmured and covered her face with her hands. "I can't believe she told you about Lance."
"Who is Lance?" Doug asked curiously.
"Guess she didn't tell you that much about him," Valentine said. "Just forget it."
"Is….Is Lance real?"
Valentine looked up at him with a heated gaze. "Of course he's real!" she exclaimed. "He's been my best friend since I was a kid! He comforts me and gives me advice! He's gotten me through some really dark times in my life!" She suddenly stopped and looked away.
Doug stared at Valentine with wide eyes, but there was a growing heat in his chest.
"Lance is an angel," Valentine said after some time. Her voice was shaking and she continued to look away. "Literally. He's got wings and a halo. He's a chubby, orange-haired, pale-skinned guy. He's been guiding me through my life. Before you say anything, though, I don't believe in God. Lance can't explain what he is but I don't even care anym—"
Doug suddenly took her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers. He couldn't describe how happy he felt hearing her say all of this. When he stopped he gazed into her eyes.
"You're so beautiful," he said and kissed her forehead. "You're not crazy. You're perfect."
Valentine grabbed both of their plates and put them back on the cart before climbing on top of him and kissing him hard. She pressed her body against his and ran her fingers through his hair. Doug wrapped his arms around her waist and gently pulled her closer to him.
"Wait," Valentine said, getting off of him. She hurried to the door and Doug's heart sank a bit. Then he heard the click of the lock. She came back with a mischievous smile. "Now nobody will interrupt us."
Doug's heart swelled again and started racing as she climbed back onto top of him.
