It was the day after Valentine's Day, and Amy Cahill was livid.

There was no way to tell by looking at her, of course. The way she beamed as she strolled through the park with her fingers woven through Ian's, anyone would assume that she was perfectly happy.

Anyone but Ian Kabra, of course.

She was obviously trying too hard. Her hand squeezed his a tad tighter than necessary. Her smile was reminiscent of a pout. Sometimes she stared at the gravel path or the dead grass, but he knew she wasn't really seeing it. Once he even had to stop her from stepping in a pile of refuse which some pet-owner had irresponsibly left behind. And whenever she looked at him, her eyes lacked the usual warmth he found there.

Yes, Amy was definitely angry. What he wasn't quite sure of was whether she was angry with him or just distracted by something else. He would have to proceed carefully.

Then again, he usually had to around her.

As they were about to pass a tall maple tree, Ian pulled her off the path to stand under its leaves, slipping his arms around her waist. She lifted her face to look up at him, smiling, but. . .

"All right, Amy," he said softly, "what's bothering you?"

She blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, don't act so innocent." He touched his forehead to hers. "I know you're not happy about something. What is it?"

Her smile faltered. "Oh, really, Ian, nothing's wrong. I'm just so happy to be taking a walk with you." She tried to make a move to go back to the path, but he held her fast.

"Amy. I did something, didn't I? And I'm sure that you'd like me to figure it out all by myself and fix it, but we both know that the chances of me succeeding are astronomical. Just tell me, and I'll do anything I can to make it up to you."

She bit her lip hesitantly. "You really don't know, do you?" With a sigh she began smoothing his jacket collar. "Tell me, what was significant about yesterday?"

This required the utmost caution.

"It was Valentine's Day," he said.

"Yes, exactly!" She was gripping his collar, now. "And what did you do about it?" There was no chance to answer. "Nothing. You did absolutely nothing."

Ian's brow furrowed. "I told you that I love you. Is that nothing?"

"It wouldn't be nothing if you never told me that!" She tried to push away from him again. "But you could have bought me a rose or written me a nice note or something."

For a moment, Ian merely looked at her. Then he lowered his head and gently pressed his lips against hers. "If I can't show you how much I love you every day," he told her, "how can I ever hope to prove that on one cold day in the middle of February? I love you, Amy Cahill, and if you want me to shower you with flowers and chocolates and ridiculous love poems, I will. But I intend to spend my whole life trying to make you happy, not just once a year."

She stared at him, her mouth gaping slightly. "I—I've never thought of it that way." Suddenly her smile was real. "I do know that you love me, Ian. And I love you too. I just wanted you to do something special yesterday. . ." She raised a hand to his cheek. "But you're enough."

He smiled at her, kissed her gently again, and led her back to the park's path. They walked on together, and this time a passerby could guess at Amy's happiness correctly. Her thumb stroked his hand softly, and her eyes brightened the sky.

"I suppose I should still buy you a rose, though?"

"Yes. Yes you should."

So, happy Valentine's yesterday. I felt like writing today, so I wrote something… and then it sucked. So I rewrote it and I hope you like it.(:

Fun fact: I used to think that "Cahill" was pronounced kuh-hill when I first started reading the series. When I magically found out that it was kay-hill, it was really annoying. Sometimes I still go back to my first impulse on accident. Like today.