She'd never been fond of Valentines Day. In fact, it was a stupid holiday, girls wasting hours home alone sobbing or fawning over whoever they'd attached themselves to that particular year. There were better ways she could spend her time. Those better ways were sitting with her roommate eating discounted sweets by the barrel, watching rom-coms until their brains turned to tapioca, but it certainly beat celebrating a stupid holiday.

But perhaps that one card changed it all.

It was the cheesiest card one could ever receive. That was on purpose, she knew what he could be like. A cartoon character she didn't recognize was on the front. Inside was a quote that she couldn't read aloud without giggling, followed by her admirers well-practiced signature and address and a time. A dinner reservation.

It had been February 14th, 1996, a few weeks into filming. She'd been young, spent her days teasing to counter his flirting, but never showing any honest interest in the persistent buck. Still, that stubborn little smart aleck never gave up hope.

"You really want to go out that bad Fuzzface?" She'd asked, agreeing to one date, only one date.

That one date hadn't been the end, not like she had once thought it would be. It, somehow, had turned into two, and then three, four, five. Dates went from simple dinners and spending entire days at the park, to renting films on VHS to watch at the incredible mansion he'd been so reluctant to show to her. It wasn't long before she found all her free time was spent with him as the weeks turned to months, and spring rolled around, summer, fall and soon Winter again.

They'd lasted a whole year by then, the bracelet he'd given her that very Valentines Day, the first anniversary, still hiding under the cuff of her glove all those years later. She could still picture that bashful smile he'd flashed her when he slid the box across the their favorite table at that restaurant she'd been to a year before. It was so strange and out of place, so unlike the confident bunny she knew. And perhaps she enjoyed that moment of shyness and modesty more than she should have, for she was the only one that got to see it.

Another four years slipped away even faster than they had come. A new century began, as well as plans for a new film. It hadn't taken off and had been replaced another, but she could still remember a time when he was flying off for meetings, press conferences, all the dull things that were involved with film production. She usually would tag along and yet there was that one time in February she couldn't go.

The reason, she couldn't remember. It was a stupid one, likely, he'd be gone a month, far longer than usual. Perhaps she simply hasn't wanted to go. It didn't matter in the end.

Not that she completely regretted it. Aside from a few select pet peeves, she hated nothing more than press conferences. And yet it was rather lonely.

It wasn't that she hadn't had any another friends or a life of her own.. She'd been quite popular, but her friends had lives apart from hers. Her roommate had decided to go back to school out of town, from time to time she'd come back to visit, but spent most of her time away. It was so close to Valentines Day, and Penelope Pussycat spent her days dodging her foul-scented Casanova. Melissa was moping over her recent break up with that hair brain duck, and quite frankly, the young doe was the last person you ever wanted to try to comfort you. It typically ended in more tears because of the the unfortunately uncomforting rabbit.

She'd found that she rather enjoyed Emma's company. Granny, as the others affectionately knew her, seemed to enjoy hers as well. The kind woman told stories of the war, of how she'd gotten her sweet little Tweety bird, and often how she appreciated seeing someone who was not a cat or a bird.

Perhaps she should have found it strange when the kind old lady insisted Lola head home early one afternoon. She had said something about a storm that was rumored to hit, though they lived in Burbank, and the weather had been calm over the weeks prior.

She didn't think anything of it, perhaps Emma wasn't quite as sharp as she once was, and she just hadn't noticed before. Instead, she came home to find what Emma had intended. A few roses scattered up the stairs to her flat, down the hall, and into her living room. Nineteen she'd counted. Five short of two dozen.

IFive years./I she thought as a hopeful squeal as she followed the rose trail into the living room.

Empty. All that filled the room was her furniture and a few other belongings. She sighed until she found herself quickly pulled into an embrace so tight she couldn't find her breath again.

Any normal person would have screamed, would have pushed away and run and yet she couldn't. The arms weren't of an attacker, but warm, covered in soft grey fur and had the familiar smell of carrots and cologne, the same smell that lingered on all the hoodies, jeans and jackets she'd swiped from him, from everything he owned.

Words flashed through her head of what she could say, but none could be used, not between those kisses- those sweet, perfect, incredible kisses she'd missed so much- and the shock that had overwhelmed her to the point of near paralysis.

For whatever reason, only two words could escape her lips. "You cheeseball."

Wrapping her in his arms, one of his hands clutching the remaining five roses, he corrected, "Your cheeseball."

How ten years together had gone so quickly, she couldn't tell you. Nearly five of those years were spent moving all her things into his house... No, their house.

The actual process of moving took only days, but here and there, they'd find a new box left untouched for months, even years.

Most contained mundane things. Dishes, cook books that had never been opened because of Mr. Noodle and Easy Mac, clothes that had long since gone out of style and would hopefully never, ever, come back.

The last box they found though was rather interesting. Inside was an old photo album that hadn't been touched since the mid nineties at least. Some of the pictures were of her former roommate, the cream coloured mallard with her brown hair held back in a scrunchie in a very nineties fashion. A lot were of him, Polaroids she'd taken over the months of filming. A few were of them together, those were her favourites. She'd turned the camera around to face them, usually curled up in his lap or wrapped in her arms.

They hadn't aged a day since then. Not that they could complain. Being early to mid twenties forever was a curse worth having. Perhaps the only change in appearance was minor. She'd stopped wearing her gloves almost three years back on that crisp mid-November night, her birthday, in front of the soundstage where the two had met almost a decade ago. In the gloves place sat that sweet little diamond, the one she'd spent years casually pointing out until he'd given in.

Life had gotten in the way of the wedding. Filming, meetings, family issues, whatever fate could throw at the two. Somehow, it had gone from being pushed back months to being pushed back years.

But at least, when it finally happened, it was perfect.

He'd insisted on going to Paris afterwards. Why, she wasn't sure, when there was plenty of adventure right in California. She'd never been one for plane rides. It kept him happy though, and reluctantly she'd agreed.

Perhaps February wasn't the best time to fly out to Europe. The heavy storms had closed in on the French capital and for two weeks the snow blocked everyone off from the outside world. Locked up in that hotel room, she'd found herself growing more and more fond of pay-per-view movies and this strange new website they'd found known as YouTube, which, within the following months, would take off like crazy. Curled up in bed for hours at a time in his arms, living off room service... That was a life she was very comfortable with.

Even without describing the rather inappropriate details she was sure no one else would want to hear, she confidentially said she would not have wanted to spent the honeymoon any other way. She'd even go on to day there hadn't been a better valentines day before.

It'd been fifteen years by the time she went back to acting full time. Laff Riot hadn't taken off, much to her disappointment. For once, she had a shot to play someone as crazy as the rest of her former cast mates.

Her interest had been piqued though, when they described her new character. Absent-minded, perhaps so much so, that she was actually a genius in fools clothing, as someone had put it to her. Goofy, adorable, perhaps a bit more feminine than she'd be used to. A challenge. A rather interesting one though.

She'd gotten her old roommate signed on to the show to replace Melissa, who had since started a career on the east coast. It seemed she had started something romantic between her friend and that foolish duck, for whatever Daffy saw in that non-nonsense store manager, Tina seemed to see something just as amazing in that crazy duck.

Barely back to work though, and she was creating trouble already. Two days into rehearsals, she carefully whispered into her husbands oversized ears about their little shock.

Soon enough they'd learn it was three little shocks.

She could barely get through her first episode before she was too big to hide it anymore. Even after writing her out of seven episodes, filming was still delayed beyond belief to accommodate the companies biggest star and his wife.

February came again, and the days of spending Valentines day in the most extravagant way were gone, and instead spent in a nursery, with little Avery cuddling close to her brother Charley, Melanie clinging to either parent when she could.

Perhaps it was a stupid holiday. That didn't mean it couldn't become her favorite.