Foxy's POV:

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I couldn't wait to see Mangle. I'd waited all day. Once today I even snuck into Kid's Cove, only to see an angry teen pinning Mangle to a table. I had poised myself, ready to run, and bite, and claw. But an employee grabbed my arm and led me back into Pirate's Cove.

Why couldn't Mangle stay with me?

I sat behind my curtain. Mr. Fazbear had left and the night guard would arrive soon. So would my Mangle.

"Foxy...?" I hear her scratchy, broken audio box squeak.

"I'm 'ere." I reply standing up and opening my curtain. I peek my head out, and she giggles.

"Hey..." She says, coming over to me and sitting down.

"T's nice to see ye..." I pause, I didn't want to insult her, but I had already started talking, so I finish, "in one piece."

She laughs, "Barely." She keeps her dumb-struck smile on her face for a few seconds, then it morphs into a frown. "I hate those kids. Hate them!"

I rub the tuft of fur on her back. "T's okay, me love. But it's not the kids ye should be hatin'."

"What do you mean?" She asks placing her soft fuzzy hand on my raggedy and felty one.

"T's the managemen'." I say nodding, "They just sit and watch 'em brats take ye apart! They don't be reactin' or nothin'!"

She smiles and I see a new form of hate succumb in her eyes. "You're right..." She growls. Her beautiful, radiant, green eyes seem to turn a darker. "I love you." She whispers before scampering away.

She turns her head before rounding the corner. Her eyes were the same bright green now. She smiles, then says, "With all my heart." Then she's gone.

It was the first time she had said anything like that. "I love you, too, Mangle! With all my heart!" I yell down the hallway.

I could hear her beautiful, angelic laugh echo through the hallway before repeating in my brain.

"Oh, why couldn't ye be a pirate, Mangle?" I rant, thinking out loud, "We could sail the sev'n seas together! And tell stories! And such wonderful things!

"But ye have to be a kid's toy, and I, a lonesome pirate." I continue, "But that shouldn't keep us apart. Should it?"

"No!" I hear a childish voice cry out, "No it shouldn't!" I open my curtain and see Balloon Boy. When I look at him, he whispers a "Hello."

I smile at him. "You're right." Suddenly I realize he had heard everything we had said and wonder, "Were you spying on us?"

"Umm..." He stumbles, "Good bye!" He stomps down the hallway: Thump, thump, thump.

I smile. He was adorable. "Good-bye!" I call after him.

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