Margaret was waiting for him near the entrance to the coffee shop. Mordecai could see Eileen inside, taking dirty plates back to the kitchen.

"Hey, Margaret," Mordecai said, walking towards her. "Sorry I'm running a bit late."

"That's fine," she replied. "Wow, you're looking really nice tonight."

Mordecai felt his face flush and he quickly turned his eyes away from her. "So… now what?"

"Do you mind taking me back to my apartment? I need to change into some decent clothes." Mordecai wanted to tell her that she looked beautiful the way she was, but he was too much of a coward to do that. That, and her uniform was splattered with coffee stains.

"No problem."

"Great."

Mordecai and Margaret waved to Eileen, who knew what Mordecai was up to. She gave him a wink when Margaret wasn't looking.

They walked side by side down the street, not talking at all.

Mordecai's heart pounded in his chest as he saw her hand swinging gracefully next to her thigh. He wanted to hold her hand, but he had told her this wasn't a date. He gulped and kept his hands to himself.

"Here we are," Margaret said, breaking the uneasy silence.

Mordecai looked up to see a nice looking apartment building.

"Come in?" She asked, which made him blush again.

"Sure," he replied, trying to keep the shyness out of his voice.

Margaret led him upstairs to her apartment. She took out a key and opened the door.

It was small, but decent sized for one or maybe two people. There was a cute couch in the middle of the room with a coffee table in front of it and a television set close by. There was a quaint kitchen that had a vase of roses on the counter.

"Something from your boyfriend, huh?" Mordecai asked without thinking.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Angel gave those to me last weekend," Margaret replied, smiled. "Well, make yourself at home, Mordecai." She retreated to the bedroom.

Mordecai felt like such a creep right now. He had this desire to see what her bedroom looked like. He had always imagined it had a queen sized bed with red bedspread, with a little nightstand with a lamp on it next to it. He also imagined stuffed animals on her bed. She was cute, so why shouldn't she have cute things?

"Ugh," he groaned. "Stop it, stop it, stop it. Thinking about those things is going to make you feel worse." He glanced over his shoulder to see the bathroom. Before he could think about stopping himself, he made his way to it. There was an assortment of perfumes, deodorants, and hair supplies sitting on top of the counter. He peeked into the cabinet to see various cosmetics, including lipstick and blush. When he heard the sound of a door opening, he immediately shut the door to the bathroom and the cabinet. He flushed the toilet and washed his hands.

"Nice place you got," he commented, opening the door. "Sorry, just using your bathroom."

"Oh, that's fine."

Mordecai was so nervous about the bathroom that his brain didn't comprehend what Margaret was wearing. When he was able to clear his head, he saw that she wore a short blue dress with ruffles and a necklace.

"Wow," was all he could say. "You look… amazing."

"Thanks," Margaret giggled as she pulled on matching blue sandals. "Ready to go?"

"Um…" Mordecai's eyes glanced at the closed bedroom door. "You mind if I take… a little tour of your place?" He smiled nervously.

"Sure! I mean you've already seen the bathroom. But, here's my kitchen." Margaret pointed to the quaint kitchen he saw when he walked in. "Cabinets filled with plates, cups, and whatnot. Hehe."

"Do you like to cook?"

"Oh, yeah! I love baking mostly. Cakes, muffins, you name it."

"I'd love to try one of your sweets someday," Mordecai said. He turned red, wondering whether or not his choice of words was appropriate. Margaret giggled, immediately relaxing him.

"Um… this is the living room, obviously. And… my bedroom is back here." She walked to the closed door and turned the doorknob.

Mordecai's heart was beating frantically.

When the door opened, he saw that her room was more or less the same as his imagination. The only thing that was different was that the bedspread was pink, not red. One glance at Margaret's bed and instantly improper thoughts filled his head. Mordecai imagined Margaret and him cuddling on her bed, his head resting upon hers. She looked at him, eyes sparkling with happiness, and kissed him. And he kissed back. Well, maybe it wasn't that improper, but it was to him

"Mordecai?" Margaret said, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Huh? What?"

"Ready to go?"

"Oh, yeah," he laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his head. "Nice place," he said again as they stepped out of apartment.

"Thanks," Margaret replied, locking the door. "So, you were pretty deep in thought back there. What were you thinking about?" She asked as they were making their way to the elevator.

"Uh… well…" Mordecai stammered. "Just… stuff."

"Alright, you don't have to tell me," she giggled.

They got into the elevator. Once it descended to the ground floor, they got out.

The sun was still shining high in the sky and there was a cool breeze, which ruffled their feathers.

"Nice weather today," Margaret commented.

"Yeah," he replied.

"So, where do you want to go?"

"See a movie?" Mordecai shrugged.

"Sounds good!"

"Awesome." As they were walking down a semi-crowded street, he said, "We can go out to eat afterwards, if that's alright with you."

"I don't know," she replied. "I'm meeting Angel tonight at eight to go out to eat." Mordecai's heart throbbed painfully.

"Oh. Well, you know, that's cool. He seems like a pretty cool guy."

"He is! He writes song, you know. He wrote one about me!"

"Did he, really? What was called?"

"Red Feathered Beauty," Margaret laughed. "It was so sweet. Have you ever written a song?"

"Nah. I mean, Rigby and I tried the band thing, but it wasn't too great. You remember that?"

Margaret nodded. "That was the night you and Angel first met."

"Yeah," he said, twiddling with his fingers nervously as he did earlier that day. "Uh, Margaret?" He asked.

"Yeah?"

He desperately wanted to tell her how much he cared for her, how much he loved her, but his throat went dry when he tried to speak.

"Uh… never mind. Sorry, my throat's a little sore."

"Are you sick?" She exclaimed.

"No, no! Just… hurts a little. Kind of like my stomach." His stomach had been clenching since he had picked her up at the coffee shop, but now it was worse.

"Maybe we should hang out some other time," she suggested sweetly.

"Oh, no. Who knows when I'll have time again?" He sighed. Who knows when I will have the courage to ask you again? "I'll be fine."

"You sure?" He was pleased to hear concern in her voice.

"Yes," he replied, trying to suppress his smile. Dude, why can't you just tell her? Tell her why your stomach and throat are hurting!

While Mordecai's brain and heart were at war with one another, he walked close to Margaret, his fingers brushing against her hand. He was hardly aware of what he was doing. It was only when she spoke up that he saw just how close they really were.

"Mordecai, are you alright? You're walking really close to me," Margaret said.

"Oh!" He gasped, glancing down. "Sorry, sorry!" Just grab her hand, you coward! He edged away from her. "That better?"

"Well, I actually didn't have a problem with it, but whatever."

He contemplated moving nearer to her, but he didn't want to freak her out, so he just kept on walking.

They reached the theater ten minutes later.

"I'll pay for the tickets," Mordecai said. He handed her a ten. "You can get some popcorn and some drinks or something."

"No problem," Margaret responded. "Which movie are we seeing?"

"Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2?" He suggested. "I know you've already seen it, but…"

"I'd love to."

"Alright, then."

Mordecai watched her walk into the theater and head to the concession stand. He went to the ticket vendor, holding his money tightly in his hand.

"Helloo~" The ticket seller was a teenage girl with brown braided pigtails with pink streaks. She had too much makeup on, especially around the eyes, and her arms were covered with bracelets. "May I help you?" She had an annoyingly high voice; the perkiness in it did not help Mordecai as he cringed.

"Yeah, uh… two tickets for Harry Potter at five," he told her.

"Alrighty, then!" She printed out the tickets. "That'll be eighteen dollars, please." She smiled a rather creepy smile.

Mordecai chuckled uneasily as he handed her the money. "Thank yoou!" She sang. "Now, here are your tickets. Enjoy the shoow!"

"Thanks."

"Oh, by the way, sir," she called him back as he was beginning to head inside.

"Yes?" Mordecai asked, irritated.

"I saw the way you were looking at that girl!"

"I-I hardly think that is any of your business," he spat.

"Sorry, just saying. Go foooor iiiit!"

"Yeah, I'm really going to take romantic advice from a sixteen year old girl who's in her rebellious stage," he muttered sarcastically.

Margaret was standing near the concession counter, holding the bucket of popcorn in her hands; the drinks were on the counter next to her.

"Ready?" She asked.

"Yeah," he said, taking the drinks.

For some reason, he couldn't get his mind off what that girl said. Why was it so obvious for everyone else to see that Mordecai was crushing on Margaret, but she couldn't see it?

He pushed the thought to the back of his head.

They went to their theater and sat down.

"This movie is good, huh?" Mordecai whispered.

"Oh, yeah, it's amazing!"

"Yeah. I wanted to go see it, but I've been way too busy."

"I know how that is." She sighed. "So, have you read the books?"

"Yup! Great books, they are."

"Yeah…"

The theater lights started to dim and the previews started.

Mordecai tuned them out, his eyes glued to Margaret, whose eyes were glued to the screen.

His attention was pulled back to the screen when the movie started.

For someone who has seen the movie already, Margaret was completely engulfed. He loved how emotional she was getting; he thought it was sweet.

Mordecai's face turned a bright red when Ron and Hermione kissed.

Oh… why can't I just do that?

As the deaths starting coming in, Margaret started to cry.

Mordecai gulped and put his arm around her.

"It's okay," he whispered.

She did not pull away; if anything, she cuddled closer to him.

Aw, okay, okay… this is… nice. Really nice.

Margaret was in tears by the time the movie was over. Mordecai helped her up to her feet and walked her out of the theater, his arm still around her. He threw away the popcorn and drinks, which he was securing in his free hand.

"Thanks, Mordecai," she said, wiping her eyes. "I feel childish."

"No, don't feel that way," he told her. "You have every right to be teary. It's the last one, isn't?" She nodded. "I bet a lot of people feel like you do." (Like me, the author!)

"What time is it?"

"Ah, like almost eight," Mordecai replied bitterly, glancing at his watch. "You're going to meet Angel, huh?"

"Yeah. He's meeting me at my place."

"I can walk you there," he offered.

"That'd be nice."

The walk back was awkward to Mordecai. He had just had his arm around her, and she didn't feel anything? Maybe she did and she didn't want to say?

Ugh, why is this so complicated?

"Thank you so much for walking me home, Mordecai," Margaret said as they were nearing her apartment. "I had a great time tonight."

"Yeah, I did too," Mordecai agreed.

No, say something else! It's now or never, Mordecai!

Mordecai grabbed Margaret's wrist. "M-Margaret, I… well… I…" And the words drifted away from his mind. He stood there, his hand around her wrist, frozen to the spot. He let go of her. "I'm sorry."

"Mordecai?" She asked, her voice full of concern and kindness.

"Hey, Margaret!" A voice said from behind them. They both turned around to see Margaret's boyfriend striding towards them.

He wore a red collar shirt with a guitar on the pocket, black jeans, and doc martens. His blonde hair fell to his shoulders.

"Hi, Angel," Margaret said, smiling hugely at him.

"Who's this?" He pointed to Mordecai.

"Oh, you remember Mordecai. You met at Battle of the Bands."

"I remember!" Angel shouted. "How you doing, Mordo?"

"I've been better," Mordecai remarked, the bitterness hot on his tongue. "Well, I'm going to be heading home now. See you tomorrow, I guess."

"Bye," Margaret said, waving at him; her grin faded at the sight of solemn face. "Thanks for a great time." She wanted to pull him back and ask what was wrong, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.

"You're welcome." Mordecai was walking away when he suddenly stopped, a look of determination painted on his face. No, you know what? Don't just walk away! I have to tell her! Everything! "Margaret," Mordecai said, spinning around and making his way towards her. "Listen to me, please."

"Sure." She was puzzled. Angel listened intently, curious as to what Mordecai had to say.

Just do it. You care about her, don't you? "I… really… oh, why is this so hard? I really care… about you." She blushed. "Hell, care is a freaking understatement. I… uh… well, you know…"

"What is it?" She asked, peering into his face. "Tell me."

"I…guess you can say… I like you." He blushed a deep red. He had done it; he had finally revealed his feelings. But, his heart was telling him something different. Idiot! Like is an understatement as well as care! If you're not going to tell her the truth, don't say anything! "Ah! Margaret… I don't like you… What I'm trying to say is…" He pushed back the feathers on his head, another habit of his when he was nervous. "…I… love…I love you! Alright?"

"Mordecai…"

Angel looked at Mordecai with pure hatred.

"I've been in love with you since freshman year! The only reason I go to that damn coffee shop is to see you. And because the coffees are bitching, but mostly, it's just for you. If I ever made you feel uncomfortable because I stuttered, I'm sorry. I'm not a very courageous guy. So, it's very hard for me to confess my feelings. And yet, here I am, pouring my heart out to you."

"I… don't really…feel the same way," Margaret told him. The rejection hurt as much as Mordecai thought it would, maybe even more. Her words pierced through his body like ice blades.

"Okay." He nodded, his voice cracking. "That's cool. I guess I'll see you around. Oh, and if I'm not at the coffee shop tomorrow, don't be surprised, alright?"

Without allowing her to say another word, he walked away, trying to conceal the tears that threatened to spill out of his eyelids.