Author's Note: Valentine's Day merchandise has been on store shelves since before Christmas, but I was determined to hold off on publishing this until February 1st. It's just as well because I needed a bit of a break during January. It feels good to be back in Sholiver land.

This story was suggested to me by my friend Pam C.. She wondered what, if anything, Shane would have said to Rita about the lost Valentines. And, if she did say something, what would Rita have done?

I hold my breath at Shane's vulnerability when she goes to the church, shows Oliver the envelope, and asks him, "Am I too late for dinner?" And, though Oliver gives us the slightest hint of a smile, I find his silence a little disconcerting. I really wanted to hear his answer to that question (even though we know what it was based on the movie's final scene). Anyway, here's a little twist on the ending of From The Heart to bring me that satisfaction.

As always, these characters belong to the brilliantly talented Martha Williamson and are brought to life by Eric Mabius, Kristin Booth, and Yan-Kay Crystal Lowe. Enjoy!

XXX

Shane startled awake to her phone clattering as it tap-danced across her bedside table. Her arm shot out from under the covers, and she grabbed it, wondering who would call her this early on a Saturday morning. She hesitantly glanced at the screen, dreading that it might be her mother wanting all the details of her Valentine's Day.

Shane rued the day she ever mentioned Oliver O'Toole to her mother. Now, every conversation was peppered with questions about him. Had they worked on any challenging letters? Were they spending time together outside of work? Had he taken her to the dinner he promised so many months ago? Sharon had a knack for pushing Shane's buttons and somehow managed to find buttons Shane didn't even know she had.

She sighed her relief when it was Rita's face on the screen. "Rita, why are you calling? Aren't you busy with Miss Special Delivery activities?"

"I came home early." Rita's typical cheerful energy seemed to have lost its spark.

"You did?" Her premature return didn't surprise Shane. She'd heard Rita's response to the reporter's question about her boyfriend along with Oliver and Norman. "I don't have a boyfriend. I'm free as a bird," She'd slammed her computer shut as soon as the words came out, but it wasn't fast enough. Norman's face, which moments before was lit up with excitement and pride, quickly fell, his gulp loud enough for everyone to hear. "You came back for Norman, didn't you?"

Rita's voice faded. "Yes, he was really upset."

Shane couldn't disagree. "Yes, he was."

Her voice cracked and caught in her throat. "I feel terrible. The question got me flustered, and I wasn't sure how to respond." Though Rita had been on a big stage before at the Miss Special Delivery pageants, she'd never had so many eyes on her as the sole focus of a band of reporters.

Shane felt for her friend and wished she was with her to comfort her. But they weren't together, so all she could do was show as much compassion as she could gather. "I understand, Rita, I do. But did Norman?"

"I don't know. I think I made him feel better." Shane heard doubt in Rita's voice. "I just wasn't ready to be asked about Norman. I was there to introduce a stamp, not talk about my private life." Rita paused and took a deep breath. Changing the subject, she asked. "What about you? Did Oliver ask you to dinner like I thought he would?"

Shane winced. "Well, he did, but I didn't find out until the next day. The next night, actually."

"What? Why?"

Remembering how rushed Rita was getting ready to leave, the last thing Shane wanted to do was put any guilt on her shoulders. Truthfully, the fault didn't lie with Rita. The fault fell on Hazel, who broke protocol when she handed the envelopes to Rita. Shane could have Hazel written up, but that wouldn't change anything. Besides, Shane liked Hazel and didn't want to get her in trouble.

"Rita. The envelopes Hazel gave you were my Valentines, and one was from Oliver. His invitation was in the valentine." Frustration about the missed opportunity still stirred deep in Shane's gut.

There was silence on the other end of the line. "Oh my gosh! I forgot to put them in your mailbox. I'm so sorry, Shane. Ohhh, I've made a mess of Valentine's Day for everyone."

While Shane couldn't disagree, she knew Rita didn't do it intentionally. Rita was one of the sweetest and kindest people she had ever known. "Don't worry, Rita. I know you were frazzled in the rush to get ready for your trip to Washington, DC."

"I promise I'll make it up to you," Rita's tone shifted and turned to playful curiosity. "So? What did Oliver's valentine say?"

Shane rolled onto her side, a smile taking over her still-waking face. Her eyes fell on the card that was propped up on her nightstand. It was the last thing she looked at before turning off the light last night. The wonky heart on the cover made her heart flutter as it did when she first pulled it from its deep red envelope.

It was clear Oliver had put a lot of effort into crafting the card himself. She wondered how many attempts it took before he managed to get his desired result. Her fingers traced the red, white, and blue trim that framed the cover, adding a touch of USPS to the card. The words she'd spoken to Norman returned to her. "And all handmade? Somebody sure did care about somebody." He wouldn't have put so much effort into creating her card if he didn't care, would he? She picked up the card and opened it to the other red heart, this one a bit straighter and set off by a paper doily. It reminded her of the cards she made in elementary school. Though she had already memorized the message, she loved visualizing him sitting at his desk, writing her card in his beautiful penmanship.

"He said Valentine's Day would be a good time for our long-promised dinner and that it had been a long time since we danced."

"Oh, that's so romantic. But you didn't have dinner with him?"

"No." Disappointment laced Shane's voice.

"No? But he asked you!"

Shane looked at her watch. "Yes, well, it's not quite that simple." Shane wasn't quite awake enough to rehash yesterday's events on the phone.

Rita's voice softened. "I'm not meeting Norman until noon. Do you want to grab coffee? I can meet you at the Mailbox Grille."

"Sure, but not at the Mailbox Grille. I'd rather not risk running into Oliver," she said with a slight tremble. "Why don't I meet you at the coffee shop across from your apartment?"

Rita was already there when Shane arrived. A deep crease was etched between her brows, and her napkin was in tatters. In all the time Shane had known Rita, she'd never seen her cry, but judging by the look in her eyes, today might be the day.

"Hey, Rita." Shane slid into the chair across from her friend. Rita opened her mouth, but Shane stopped her with a hand over her fidgeting fingers. "Rita, don't apologize again. It was a mistake. I know you didn't mean to."

"It was a crazy day," Rita admitted.

The waitress came over to the table and took their orders. Once she left, Rita pushed Shane for more information. "So? What happened?"

Shane thought of Oliver's condescending tone as they walked the halls of Denver Mercy. 'Why would you lie to someone about not receiving any valentines?' Shane's insides churned just thinking about it. "He had the nerve to accuse me of lying about not receiving any valentines."

Rita's head tilted to one side, definite surprise in her voice. "Wow! That doesn't sound like Oliver."

Replaying their conversation, her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. "I wouldn't have thought so, but he didn't stop there." The irritation she'd felt during their argument was resurfacing and building. "He said if I was uncomfortable declining his invitation, I should leave my mother out of my sad attempts to dissemble." His words cut deep, and she blinked back tears, remembering how confused she felt when he said them.

The waitress brought them their coffees, and Shane reached for the sugar packets, grabbing three. She tore them open, one by one, and dumped the contents into her skinny vanilla latte, stirring much longer than necessary.

"Rita, do you know Oliver's friend, Dale?"

"No, who's he?"

"It's not he. It's a she." As Shane uttered those words, a shiver ran down her spine. She couldn't help but think about the red-haired beauty Oliver was deep in conversation with when she first saw him at the church. She couldn't deny the stab of jealousy when she saw them together. Their easy rapport only highlighted the discord she and Oliver had been experiencing the last couple of days.

Rita nodded her understanding. "Ooo…who is she?"

"I met her last night at Oliver's church."

Tilting her head, Rita asked. "Wait, you went to Oliver's church?"

"Yes, I went after I found the valentine. Everything made sense once I read the card, and I knew I had to try to clear things up with him. I couldn't wait until Monday."

###

As she drove, a rush of adrenaline coursed through her veins. Her skin tingled, and her fingers tightly gripped the steering wheel as she tried to steady her trembling hands. Once she and Norman discovered the valentine, the meaning of Oliver's words in the hallway of Denver Mercy became clear. She needed to get to him quickly to clear up the confusion.

Standing at the doors of Oliver's church, she stiffened. It had been a long time since she'd been in a church. She reached inside the pocket of her bag, fingering the envelope, seeking the courage to go in. She pushed through the heavy wooden doors, their edges worn smooth over time by countless parishioners entering the sacred space. The creak of the hinges echoed, and she wondered if it could be heard inside. Then she heard it – the soft angelic harmonies of the choir. She paused, hoping to distinguish the clear tenor voice she'd heard once before, but they all blended so beautifully that she couldn't pick out Oliver's.

As the choir dispersed, she saw him exit through the church doors. Her heart beat faster, and she gasped as adrenaline shot through her body. The rush was short-lived, and her legs shook when she noticed him in easy conversation with a woman. Shane's face fell quickly as she watched the two of them. Once Holly was out of the picture, Shane never thought about people Oliver knew outside of work. But, here he was, smiling and talking with a woman who eerily reminded her of Holly with her red hair and easy, bright smile. She turned, hoping to escape before he saw her, but she was too late. "Ms. McInerney? Oh my goodness."

She had no choice but to join them. Not only was Dale beautiful, but she was also genuinely friendly. Shane stumbled awkwardly over her questions, suddenly feeling inadequate, knowing she didn't share the church connection with Oliver as this woman did. Relief washed over her when Dale excused herself, but Shane couldn't resist one last look at her, wondering if there was more between her and Oliver.

Oliver's face when she asked if she was too late for dinner did nothing to reassure her. He gave her the faintest of smiles. His lips barely turned up. He didn't say yes, but he didn't say no, either. They just stood there, his eyes on the envelope and her eyes fixed on his unreadable expression. And then, he was gone. Called away by someone inside the church that she couldn't see, she stood alone, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other. Shane peeked her head inside the church as the entryway emptied of other choir members, but Oliver was nowhere in sight.

With a heavy heart, she took measured steps towards the door, her eyes darting back, hoping to catch a glimpse of Oliver. Disappointment washed over her when he was nowhere in sight. She sighed deeply and stepped out the door, her disappointment getting heavier with every step.

###

"So, how did it go when you were at his church?" Rita's question brought Shane out of her daydream.

Shane brought the coffee to her lips and cringed when it hit her tongue. "Not great. I asked him if I was too late for dinner."

"What did he say?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

Shane shook her head, a shadow flitting across her face. "He didn't say no, but he didn't say yes. Then he got called away, and I didn't see him again."

Now, it was Rita's turn to comfort her friend. With a hand on Shane's arm, she said. "I'm sorry about all of this, but I have to say I'm disappointed in Oliver."

"Rita, I told you, you don't need to apologize anymore. It was a mistake. I just wish I could have explained it all to him. It's all so confusing. If there was ever any chemistry between us, I think it's an experiment gone wrong."

###

Rita took a deep breath, and with shaky fingers, she dialed Oliver's number. She was filled with unease about talking to him but couldn't rest until she tried to fix her mistake. She wasn't sure how he would react to her getting in the middle of the misunderstanding between him and Shane. She reasoned that Oliver wasn't just her boss, but he was also her friend. And this conversation was between friends. She hoped he understood that. "Oliver? It's Rita."

"Rita, why are you calling? Is everything going well with your Miss Special Delivery duties?" Oliver's formality was expected, and she knew she needed to 'set the stage' for this conversation.

"I came home early," she answered.

Oliver's voice took a "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, I mean no."

"Rita?" Concern was in his voice.

"Oliver. I have to tell you something." Wanting to get to the heart of the matter, she spoke quickly. "It was my fault that Shane didn't get your valentine."

Silence met her from the other end. "Rita, I appreciate what you are trying to do. You don't need to explain."

"Oliver, I do need to explain because it's my fault. Shane was telling you the truth. I put them in the box of decorations and forgot to put them in Shane's mailbox. I know I broke protocol, but I was flustered getting ready to leave for Washington and forgot all about them." The story came pouring from her lips, adding more detail, hoping she was making sense. When Oliver didn't respond, she continued. "Oliver, I probably shouldn't tell you this, but Shane is very upset about how you treated her."

Both were quiet for a long stretch. "Ahem." Oliver's raspy voice finally broke through the silence. "Thank you, Rita."

She heard the clunk as the call disconnected, followed by a buzzing sound. Oliver's abruptness left Rita wondering if she'd said enough to make him rethink things. All she could do now was hope that he did the right thing.

###

Shane struggled to stay awake while catching up on her saved episodes of The Good Wife on her iPad. Her eyelids drooped but suddenly popped open when a sound outside got her attention. She glanced at the time and saw it was 8:46 p.m. She muted her iPad and waited for a moment, listening, assuming the wind had blown a loose branch across her front porch. A chill ran down her spine when she heard it again. Was it footsteps? If so, she expected the doorbell to ring any moment. But who would be ringing her bell at this time of night? When it didn't, she peered out the window to the side of the front door. Her breath caught in her throat as a sharp gasp escaped her lips. There, on the swing he'd gifted her, sat Oliver O'Toole, leaning forward, his chin resting on steepled fingers. Despite her mixed emotions, she couldn't help but feel a flutter in her chest at seeing him. Quickly checking her reflection in the hall mirror, she pinched her cheeks, bringing back the color that had drained away by the end of the day. With a deep breath, she ran her fingers through her hair, carefully tucking any stray strands back into place.

As soon as the door creaked open, his head swiveled in her direction. He rose but stopped and reached for something on the swing next to him. Shane's eyes lit up when she saw he'd retrieved a bouquet of yellow roses. She couldn't help but notice his sheepish expression. "Oliver, what are you doing here?"

Oliver greeted her politely, "Good evening, Ms. McInerney," while nervously adjusting his overcoat. His mouth hung open slightly as his eyes darted around. The always articulate Oliver O'Toole seemed at a loss for words.

Shane couldn't stop the smirk that slowly spread across her lips. She quickly raised her hand to cover it, sparing Oliver her obvious amusement. But after how Oliver talked to her the day before, she had to admit that she was taking a little enjoyment from his obvious discomfort.

"I want to apologize for my behavior towards you yesterday." This was a different Oliver voice. This one was full of remorse. "It has been brought to my attention that my words and actions towards you were inappropriate and hurtful."

Rita, Shane thought. She must have said something to him. "Oliver." Before she could continue, he raised his hand to stop her.

"Please, let me say what I need to say." Oliver's gaze was fixed on the ground. Lifting his head, his eyes connected with hers. "Ahem. I made assumptions without knowing all of the facts, and, in doing so, I fear I may have hurt your feelings." Oliver's hand trembled slightly as he thrust the flowers in Shane's direction. "I regret if my actions have caused you any distress. I got these for you. I know they can't make up for my behavior. I'm sorry they're not red."

Shane's eyes widened in surprise as she accepted the gift, a genuine smile lighting up her face. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears of relief. She'd been hurt by his assumption that she had lied to him, and the pain was still fresh in her mind. Looking back at the whole debacle of a day, and given Oliver's history, she should have recognized that he would jump to the conclusion he did. And it wasn't just Oliver. She'd longed for him to ask her to dinner, and when he didn't, she'd also jumped to the faulty conclusion that maybe he was no longer interested in her outside of a professional relationship.

Shane accepted the bouquet from Oliver, brought them to her nose, and inhaled their fragrance. She wasn't sure she'd ever smelled roses quite so sweet. She rested her eyes on his. "They're beautiful, Oliver. Yellow roses are my favorite. Thank you." Shane hesitated for a moment, unsure if she could trust her voice. "Would you like to come in?" She whispered.

He met Shane's gaze, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, mirroring the same expression he had worn the night before at the church. "I would like that very much, but I must say no, thank you. It is getting late, and I have church in the morning."

Oliver grasped Shane's free hand with his own, his thumb slowly tracing tender circles on her knuckles. The touch of his skin against hers sent a jolt of electricity shooting through Shane's body. Her eyes widened at the unexpected wave of intimacy that passed between them.

"Before I go, it has occurred to me that I left you last night without answering your question."

Shane tightly held her breath, feeling as if the fate of their relationship hinged on what Oliver was about to say.

Still holding her hand in his, Oliver held her gaze. "You are not too late for dinner." Bringing her hand to his lips, he brushed them lightly across her knuckles.

Her heart pounded erratically, threatening to send her off balance. A lone tear spilled and trickled down her cheek. She thought about wiping it away before Oliver noticed, but one hand clutched the beautiful flowers, and the other was still wrapped by Oliver's. She was not about to relinquish either, so she let it continue down her face. A myriad of emotions swirled. A mixture of excitement, relief, anticipation, and fear made it difficult to decide which to embrace and which to let go.

Shane gasped as Oliver released her hand and reached out, using his thumb to wipe her wayward tear. "Well, I better be going." His face was so close to hers that she felt his breath on her skin.

Shane's fingers curled into a tight fist as she clung to the sensation of Oliver's kiss. His simple display infused new hope into her faltering dream of a future between them. Unsure if her voice would work, she whispered, "Good night, Oliver."

Once the lights from his car disappeared, she stepped back into the house. Leaning against the door, she inhaled the flower's perfume. She felt herself shaking as she leaned against the door. All the emotions of the last few days were spinning out of control, and she giggled as she slid down the door and landed on the floor. Maybe Rita was right. Perhaps she and Oliver did have a thing.