Happy Valentines Day to all!

Here's a Valentines treat for all of you Troy/Sharpay fans – and please don't read this if you love Gabriella.

So, I hope you enjoy this one.

Warnings: Some Language, Sexual Themes, and Innuendo

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Be Mine… Be My Valentine…

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Troy began to paint the box he'd started working on the other day. He was, once again, in detention with Mrs. Darbus, but, he didn't mind this time. It was an after school Valentines Day detention, and he was heartbroken, so, he'd rather have been here, at school, painting props and boxes, rather than going out, alone. On Valentines Day.

"Mr. Bolton, I assume you have a date with Miss Montez? I will dismiss you early for your hard work today. And it is a holiday, and my husband and I are going away for the weekend," Mrs. Darbus offered, unusually kind, just adding in the last part.

Troy looked at her in surprise, and then rested his chin on his hand again. His elbow now dug into his thigh, while he continued to paint the box with one hand.

"It's okay, Mrs. Darbus. I've got nowhere to go tonight. Gabriella and I – we broke up," he said, his voice crackling at the last part. "I can stay behind and finish a few things, if you'd let me."

Understanding, the old women nodded.

"So that's why you've been unusually grumpy… like Sharpay lately," she whispered. "Well, you may stay as long as you please, but I will be leaving in a few minutes. We're going down to Los Vegas, my husband and I!" she said excitedly, "But, you really didn't need to know that. Well, have a Happy Valentines Weekend, Mr. Bolton." She comfortingly patted his shoulder with a smile, walking off.

'Even Mrs. Darbus has plans! And me… I'm Valentine-less… and Friday night… plan-less…' thought Troy with a frown.

Something woke him out of his long gaze at the over painted box – a big crash behind him.

"Stella, can you not be such a klutz?" cried Sharpay, stomping a foot. Few drops of paint had made their way onto her 'all pink' attire.

"Sorry…" the girl said from all the way up the ladder.

Troy stood immediately.

"Don't worry! I'll clean it up. I've got it, I've got it," he said, stretching out, his muscles stiff from staying the position he had for the last hour.

"Thank you, Troy," replied Sharpay, in more of a commanding voice.

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East High was always strange when there were no students around.

The hallways were filled with only red lockers, and school posters, but it was dead without the students. You could hear footsteps from two hallways away if you were there after school. In a way, it seemed almost… eerie.

Troy had found it that way when making his way to the janitor's closet.

He looked around, expecting some sort of a ghost to pop out from a locker, or at least something that would scare the heck out of him. But he was wrong, so he continued to walk down the halls, hearing his own breathing and footsteps clearly.

'Why'd she leave me?' he pondered in grief. 'She left me for a… a decathlon nerd! How could she? And on Valentines Day! I really, really liked her…' he thought, running a hand through his brown hair.

A question came to his mind as he thought about what he'd just thought about.

'I really, really liked her… I didn't love her. And… she didn't love me,' thought Troy, his heart throbbing with pain, though it eased, knowing that he didn't return the feelings that she couldn't offer.

Finally, he'd reached the door to his right that had large black letters printed on the door; 'CUSTODIAN'.

Still internally aching, he grabbed for the doorknob, twisting it.

It wouldn't budge.

He yanked at it again, and shook it this time.

It still wouldn't budge.

Now, Troy yanked, shook, and twisted the doorknob one after the other, accomplishing what he'd set out to do – opening the Janitor's closet.

He stepped inside, pulling on the light switch, a string, the dark room illuminating with much needed light.

It smelled of cleaning products, and old mops, and a newly placed scent of a pork roast sandwich remained, which was most likely saying that the janitor had eaten lunch there, earlier.

He jumped as the door shut closed behind him, his heart rate picking up.

Regaining his composure, he looked down, and on the floor was an opened, and empty, heart shaped box that was once filled with chocolate.

Troy shook his head, instantly remembering what'd happened earlier that day.

FLASHBACK

He'd walked into homeroom, smelling fresh, with a light coat of cologne sprayed on him. He wore just what he'd worn the day that he'd met Gabriella on that fateful New Year's Eve of the previous year.

All heads turned, noticing his semi formal attire – though he was wearing jeans, while he wore a dress shirt and a black blazer to top off his clothing for the day. Another thing they noticed was, his backpack wasn't the only thing he'd carried into class that morning.

In his left hand was his backpack, and in his right was a small heart shaped box, a card, and a little Beanie Baby; a pink teddy bear with a red heart on its stomach.

Spotting his beloved girlfriend, Troy strode over to her with a smile that projected he'd just won the lottery.

"Happy Valentines Day, Gabriella," he said, dropping his backpack in his chair, handing his girlfriend the teddy bear and the chocolates.

The girl had a sympathetic smile on her face, a fake one that she'd used times before.

"You too," and instead of giving him a peck on the lips, which was their usual morning greeting, she gave him a fast peck on the cheek. Before pulling away, she whispered in his ear.

"We need to talk," she said with a shaky voice.

A lump in Troy's throat had formed.

'We need to talk…?'

That was always a bad thing, when one in a relationship said that. But, then again, she could've easily meant that they needed to talk about which restaurant they were going to, and where to go after that. That's what the athlete wanted to hear. But he knew. Deep inside, he knew it was going to be something bad.

With ten minutes before the bell, he nodded, and the two walked outside, in front of the lockers next to their homeroom door.

Gabriella looked troubled, and she opened her mouth several times to speak, but she couldn't say a thing. It was by those very actions he knew…

He knew.

"Troy, this is hard for me to say… but… I want to –"

"You want to break up with me," he finished for her, his voice cool, and quiet.

She nodded slowly, biting her lip in response.

"Why?" the boy asked in desperation.

"It's not working out, and there's –"

"Somebody else," he finished for her again, blinking several times.

A year with somebody you thought you loved had just been wasted away in a moment.

Again she nodded.

"Why would you -? I love you!" he proclaimed, trying hard not to just throw up on the spot.

She shook her head.

"Troy, don't say things you don't mean. And… I'm sorry…" Gabriella said.

"How could you –?" he didn't even want to waste another minute with her. He honestly wanted to throw up his breakfast right their, as his stomach churned. "Why did you -? You know what? I don't even want to hear it," he said, blinking several times again. His heart had sunk, and was now throbbing with pain.

Turning away, his fingers wrapped around his Valentines gifts, squashing the bear, and wrinkling the box and the card.

The bell rung and the students flooded into the classroom, Gabriella losing complete sight of Troy.

END FLASHBACK

Troy shook his head, as if trying to shake the thoughts away, and found the cleaning liquids he needed, grabbing a long mop.

He turned to leave, twisting the knob.

It didn't budge.

"No…" he muttered, his frustrations taking over. "C'mon, open!"

He vigorously shook the door, now using two hands, putting down the cleaning objects he'd just picked up.

"Dammit!" he cursed pulling at his hair with frustration.

He kicked the door, finding to his displeasure that it was metal. He hopped around on one foot, 'ow – ing' until the pain subsided.

He hammered on the door a few times, seeing if anyone would get his attention.

"Hey? Is anybody out there?" he yelled at the top of his lungs, his fists banging against the door.

Finally, he gave up all hope of ever getting out of the closet before Monday came.

Opening the mini fridge in the corner, he took out one of the three bottles of water, sitting himself down on the floor, back against the wall.

"A toast to all those who are lonely, and all those with broken hearts," he said to himself, lifting his bottle. "Happy Valentines Day, Troy Bolton."

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"Goodness!" the school Ice Princess called, breathing in. "Where is that Troy Bolton? The paint is already dry!"

"Calm down, Sharpay," her brother said, putting on his leather jacket, and his hat.

"How can I? You – where are you going? Much more props need fixing up and painting," she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"I don't know about you, but, I've got a Valentine, and I'm gonna see her in two hours. I've gotta take a shower, get dressed, and do all that good stuff," he said in a smooth voice, with a smile.

"First of all, I don't have a Valentine, and second, we have much work to do," said Sharpay, waving her hands, motioning to the unfinished set.

"We'll finish tomorrow. I'll see you later. Happy Valentines Day!" he greeted cheerfully, almost skipping out of the auditorium.

"Come back here Ryan!" she said dully, almost knowing she wasn't going to get an answer.

Sharpay sighed almost sadly, at the fact that she was almost alone, and also at the fact that her 'pansy brother' had a Valentine, and she didn't.

She turned around to see two students who were watching her snap their heads back down at their work.

"You two, don't move, and don't leave. I'm getting Bolton right here, now."

Nobody answered, so it was an assumed, "Yes ma'am," from them.

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Despite Sharpay's wearing high heels, she jogged down to the janitor's closet with ease. Dancing on them had trained her to be fast with them.

"Troy!" she exclaimed before opening the door.

"Mmhmm? Sharpay! Oh thank God it's you, the door…" the groan from the closet came, and Troy continued to speak.

She sighed almost in relief, but was also frustrated with his slowness, not listening to a word he said.

Sharpay twisted the doorknob opened with ease, walking into the closet to find Troy seated on the mini fridge in the corner.

A surprised look took over his face.

"How did you open -? I loosened it for you," he claimed, tossing the water behind him in joy.

Not knowing what he was talking about she walked towards him, pulling on his black blazer - when the door slammed shut.

"Shit!" he exclaimed. He almost did the whole slow motion, "Noooo…." thing, but he found his choice of word better.

Troy began to rub his temples, as if he had a headache, pulling on his hair as well.

"What on earth is wrong with you? Never mind, I don't want to know. Well, come on! That paint isn't going to clean itself, you know," she said, trying to twist the doorknob open.

Once again, it did not open.

She yanked, pulled, and twisted at the same time, and the door did not open.

Troy turned around and began to bang his head against the wall. His head resting on the wall, he spoke in a 'ha ha, you know I'm pissed', voice.

"See, all I know is, that means we're locked in here," he said, banging his head twice, as he reminded himself.

He turned around, and hammered at the door with his fists again in desperation.

"Oh God, Oh GOD! We're locked in here! Get me the hell out of here! " he pleaded, continuing to hopelessly pull, and hammer at the door.

Nope. It didn't open.

"Ugh! I hate this! Being locked in a grimy old closet filled with cleaning products with you is not my idea of a good Valentines Day!" Sharpay began to whine.

"Back at ya," he said with an insulted face. "Well, this just adds to my horrible Valentines Day."

He turned around and began to bang his head on the wall again.

"Would you stop that! You're going to hurt yourself!" Sharpay said, inching her way to him.

"Hah, no kidding," said Troy with a sneer, continuing on.

She pulled him back by his hair, and sat him down on the mini fridge.

"Owowowowowow! What the hell?" he asked, smoothing out his hair.

"Hurting yourself isn't going to help us out of here," said Sharpay, trying to be the rational one.

"You know we don't have a hope of getting out, unless somebody just happens to hear us. And, if you hadn't noticed, the school's closed, it's a Friday, and only two people are left working – and I'm guessing they already left for home," said Troy, his negativism beginning to get to the Drama Queen.

"I'M TRYING-!" she snapped at him, making him jump. She regained her composure, smiling, taking a handkerchief out of her pocket, patting it all over her forehead gently. "I'm trying to be the positive one, okay, Troy?" she said in a sugary sweet voice, "And I also don't wanna spend the rest of my Valentines Day in a closet with you!"

He looked angry now, walking up to meet her face to face.

Rising from his spot where she'd thrust him down on the mini fridge, he walked up to her in a challenging way, emotions raging. Being dumped on Valentines Day had affected the way he talked to everyone – for the worse – and he wasn't about to lighten up on Ice Princess here.

"Well, you know, it's not my fault we're locked in here," he said, raising his hands to motion the closet. "It is actually quite all yours," he said, pointing at her accusingly.

She gasped in an offended way, her eyes widening. She advanced on him, her eyes going from wide, to scarily narrow.

"Oh yeah? How?" she asked, seeming dangerously calm.

Troy had always been told never to deal with a girl who was mad, and calm, at the same time. But right now, he didn't give a rat's ass.

"Miss 'Clean My Theatre', and if you didn't know, I meant you, told me to go get the cleaning stuff to clean the stage!" he said, placing the blame on her.

"You offered to!" she exclaimed, pushing the blame right back into his arms.

"Well you probably would've bludgeoned me with a prop like Pinocchio's nose if I hadn't!" he shot back.

"I would've gotten a freshman to do it!"

"Fine, fine, fair enough. It's still your fault," he spat back, making Sharpay wipe his spit off of her face quite violently with her handkerchief. "You see, I got locked in here! You came, and you let the door shut!"

"I didn't know it would lock because you didn't tell me!" she exclaimed fiercely.

"Oh yeah, I did! When you were opening the door! But no, you didn't listen!" he said, mocking her. "Ooo look! I'm Sharpay, and I didn't listen to Troy!" he said, waving his hands in the air, making his voice small and whiny.

Sharpay gasped again, taken aback.

"Mr. Bolton, I do not sound like that!" she said, shoving his shoulder back threateningly.

"Oh yeah? Wanna bet?" Troy had not wavered at her little push, but had only moved closer to her, his face warm with frustration.

"Yeah! I wanna bet!" Sharpay said, swinging her head closer to his, eyes especially narrow and challenging.

"Oh yeah!" he said stumbling for words.

"Yeah!"

"Oh yeah!"

"Yeah!"

"Oh yeah?" Troy whispered, daringly, eyes narrowed, his face now only two inches away from her's.

She only moved closer.

"Yeah," Sharpay replied, her hot, minty, breath felt on his face.

Before both knew what they were doing, their lips met in a hot and fiery kiss, Troy's anger melting away, the person he least expected to help him, now helping him rid himself of thoughts that were hurting him. Sharpay had eagerly obliged, wrapping her arms around the athlete's neck, helping deepen the kiss. He eagerly pushed closer to her, almost afraid her taste, and her warmth, would leave him if he loosened his grip.

This is what he'd needed to get back at the heartbreak.

He'd wished that Gabriella were there to be jealous, cry, to feel the heartache he had, but as he got into the kiss, he didn't care, and the whole world was no more. It was only him and Sharpay, the not cold at all Ice Princess.

Finally pulling away for air, the girl narrowed her eyes at Troy.

"Who told you that you could kiss me?" she questioned him seriously, her face flushed, as she panted.

His only answer was to place his hands on her cheeks, and pull her in for another kiss, deeper than the last.

Troy's arms were now wrapped around Sharpay's hips, her arms still around his neck. He pulled back a little, trailing kisses from her lips to her cheek, and lastly to her ear.

He softly and seductively whispered into her ear.

"Be mine… be my Valentine…" he cooed gently, with a voice he'd never used on anyone before – not even Gabriella.

She smirked, placing her cheek on his, breathing her hot breath into his ear, Troy now deeply inhaling her scent.

"How can I say no?"

And with that, another make out session ensued.

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Hearing footsteps coming down the hall, their eyes widened when they heard an old man's voice. They listened, still not wanting to pull apart.

"Just a minute Agnes! Let me get my bag and we can leave," came the janitor's voice.

They heard five taps on the door, and another six in another place, then the grabbing, pulling, and twisting of the doorknob.

With no time left, the two were still attached by the lip, long enough for custodian, 'Old man Bob Peters', to see them.

"Hello, young ones," he said with a smile.

"We couldn't get out," said Sharpay immediately, pulling away from Troy's lips, the sound of a plunger being pulled out of a toilet made.

"The door was locked," said the athlete, reinforcing his Valentine's excuse.

"A likely story! It might be the knob though. It has eleven pressure points that need to be tapped in order to get it to open; only ever other two times you use it though. I've been planning to replace it," the old janitor said, standing in the doorway.

A strange silence followed, Sharpay and Troy's arms still around each other.

Old Man Bob blinked at them.

They blinked at him.

"The door's open now, you crazy kids! Now move along. Have a Happy Valentines Day!" said Old Man Bob, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as he ushered them out the door.

"I intend to," said Troy, smiling like the Cheshire cat.

With his arm slung around Sharpay's shoulders, her head rested against his, he went over the Valentines Day he'd just had in his head, which was filled with heartache, and arguments with a person he'd never even bothered to notice before.

Yes, he'd had a horrible Valentines Day.

But, that night would beg to differ.

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END

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Well, I hope you enjoyed that. It was just an idea that popped into my head. I noticed that this scene was very Trevor/Maddie, from 'Suite Life', but, that's what I like about it! Have a Happy Valentines Day, and please, leave a review on your way out if you can.