B'arzz liked uncovering the meanings behind objects. As an archeologist on Mars, he would brush away the dust from the treasures of old and piece together, through vast and strenuous research, their use, their purpose, and more importantly, their worth. Even the most insignificant of items, like a piece of scrap metal or a pot of dirt, could have possessed momentous value or been used to symbolize loss, compassion, or freedom. Everything had the possibility of meaning something, even if it only held true for one person. That was the magic of life, after all.

So when he discovered that Earth had given meaning to its flowers, a language voiced through bouquets, he feverishly picked up any and every book about flowers from the library in Taos and took them home. He sat on the rooftop of his house, reading over each meaning of every shade of rose and tulip and lily. Some were of particular interest, like the anemone: it came from Greek mythology and meant "the daughter of the wind," and sprang from the goddess Aphrodite's tears at the death of her lover Adonis. It had a variety of meanings depending on its shade, but it most commonly symbolized anticipation.

That makes the most sense, B'arzz mulled over, skimming his finger over the image in the yellowed book, Wind here seems to have a very anxious quality to it...in most literature I have read, whenever wind is involved, the character is expecting something.

However, his attention soon turned away from the rare and exotic to the more common flowers he'd seen around the gardens of Taos. Roses were very popular in this region of Earth, so he decided it would be wise to study up on their meanings more thoroughly.

He was a bit floored by just how many roses there were and how the slightest change of shade could mean something so vastly different. Yellow roses conveyed friendship and joy, but yellow roses with red tips meant the giver was falling in love with the recipient. Or how a thorn-less rose of any color symbolized love at first sight. The men and women of earth sure had their work cut out for them. The slightest slip-up could potentially destroy any relationship, especially if one of them had no clue of the power in their hands.

So engrossed in his research, he completely missed the boy descending onto his rooftop, retracting his blue armor as he walked up to B'arzz with a curious stare.

"Hey, GB, what's with all the books?" B'arzz jumped a little at the sound of the other voice, quickly recovering when he noticed it was the familiar face of Jaime Reyes, "You planning to become a botanist or something?"

"Hello, Jaime," B'arzz greeted, closing the book and setting it into his lap, "Is it time to go on patrol already?"

"In about twenty minutes or so," Jaime shrugged and took a seat next to B'arzz, shuffling the stack of books to the side, "Decided to come early on account of my sister being a total brat right now."

"Your sister is a wonderful young lady," B'arzz countered, "I doubt she would be acting out if your friend had accepted her proposal."

Jaime laughed at that, snaking a hand to the back of his neck, "I bet. But there's no way Tye would ever agree to go to her little school dance. He's not very good with kids except her. Besides, he already has a girlfriend."

B'arzz nodded, noticing the sun dipping into the mountains in front of him. He really had lost track of time. Still, if Jaime said they had twenty minutes, maybe he could "pick his brain" for information. What better way to understand the language of flowers than from a native?

"To answer your initial question, I have grown intrigued by the meanings your culture puts into flowers and thought it would be appropriate to study them," B'arzz explained, "It is quite fascinating. I was wondering, how do you study this language on Earth? Is it taught through families or your school system?"

Jaime blinked, his body shifting away from B'arzz, "Uh...neither? It's kind of a self-taught thing here, I guess?"

B'arzz's eyes widened at the boy's statement, glancing towards the pile of books in front of him, "But that makes little sense. Why would your people spend so much time creating meaning for these flowers and then not put them to any use? Surely, I have seen a wealth of people give flowers to others...did they not know what they were conveying with the varieties selected?"

"Maybe some of them did," Jaime reassured, "But I guess you would call it a dead language here on Earth, or at least in North America. It's kind of like ancient mythology. The people who are interested in it will learn about it on their own, but it's not required or anything like that. The only real universal flower is the red rose and that's supposed to mean love."

"But there are five different shades of the red rose, not to mention all the shades of pink," B'arzz clarified, opening the book in his lap and thumbing through the pages until he found what he was looking for, "See? A regular red rose means love, courage, or passion, but a dark red rose means unconscious beauty while a red rosebud signifies purity. And then there's the presentation of a single red rose, which mean 'I love you,' and - "

"What?" Jaime interrupted, taking the book from B'arzz's hands and looking over the passage he had pointed at, "Ay Dios mio, you have got to be kidding me. That's why she's been acting so weird!"

When B'arzz didn't respond (because he honestly wasn't sure if Jaime wanted him to ask), the boy let out a frustrated sigh and threw the book back into the martian's chest, "I might have...possibly, given Cassie one of those as an apology for missing her track finals. Knowing the mythology nut she is, she totally probably knows everything about flowers. Man, I am so stupid..."

"...Do you love her?" was all B'arzz could really ask.

Jaime blanched at the question, his shoulders tensing, "You're not good with easing into a conversation, are you?"

"I believe you have told me that before."

"Yeah, I have and yeah..." Jaime trailed, standing up and walking towards the center of the roof, "I think I might, but I didn't want to tell her through some...flower."

"Perhaps she thought you knew what you were conveying," B'arzz tried to calm Jaime's nerves, standing up himself and placing a firm hand on the boy's shoulder, "Maybe that is why she has been acting, as you say, weird. Maybe she does not know how to respond to the indirect confession."

Jaime kept his eyes locked on to the gravel near their feet, a shuddering breath escaping him, "Yeah...that sounds like her. But, she knows I don't pay attention to that stuff. Why would she think it means more than it does?"

"The language of flowers acts like any other language," B'arzz explained, "What if Wonder Girl thought 'te amo' meant I'm sorry? Would you not be acting in a similar fashion as she had?"

"Probably," Jaime admitted, "I would freak out a little."

"Then might it be wise to confront her about this, since you now know your mistake? I assume she could only be 'freaking out' as much as you are right now."

Jaime chuckled, turning towards B'arzz and meeting his gaze with a friendly smile, "You always know what to say, GB. I would never think you were a martian if I didn't know any better."

"I will take that as a compliment," B'arzz returned the smile, "Love seems to be a universal language throughout this galaxy. Now, let us clear your head. Where would you like to patrol tonight?"

Jaime's smile morphed into a smirk and his gaze carried a mischievous glint, "Why not kill two birds with one stone? Let's go over to D.C.; Cassie should be home by now."

"Then it is decided," B'arzz nodded, "But...what does killing birds have to do with your endeavor?"

The patrol and Jaime's talk with his girlfriend went well, resulting in a passionate kiss B'arzz had the decency to turn away from. However, the conversation with Jaime and his study of flowers stirred up another idea. While he always tried to show his gratitude to the team in any way he could, he had yet to give M'gann an appropriate gift to demonstrate just how much he appreciated her company and friendship (as well as their developing courtship). He was unsure if she knew the meanings behind flowers on Earth, but she did seem to enjoy them.

And I know just the one, B'arzz thought, his eyes flickering towards the west. She and Garfield did enjoy his visits to the warehouse...

A few days later, he found himself knocking on her bedroom door, a bouquet of cream roses tucked behind his back. Garfield was already snickering in the background, mouthing when he should expect the wedding. Guardian nudged the boy to behave, but even he had a lingering grin tugging at his lips. B'arzz did his best to ignore them...and the nervous sensation clawing into the hollow of his chest.

"Yes, who - " M'gann swung the door open, taken aback by the man standing in her doorway, "Oh, B'arzz! I wasn't - why didn't you tell us you were coming over?"

"I wanted to surprise you - and the others, of course," B'arzz clarified, clearing his throat. He took in M'gann's bare legs and arms, the rest of her body clothed in a pink tank top and cotton shorts. It was certainly the most casual he had seen her, and he would be lying if he said he didn't find it pleasant, "And...mostly because I wanted to give you these."

Despite the stares of Guardian and Garfield (and an unnoticed Nightwing from the other balcony), B'arzz took a quick breath and presented the bouquet to her, relieved to see happy astonishment sparkle across her face, "Wow, they're beautiful, B'arzz. I really like the color. I've never seen cream-colored roses up-close before. And they even have pink tips!"

"I have been studying the language of flowers here on Earth and believed these would be appropriate to give you," B'arzz explained, a quiet joy cascading over his skin as she took the flowers from him, holding them close to her chest, "Those mean appreciation and are also a symbol of feminine elegance and grace. I found them to be...fitting for you and to indicate that I truly appreciate your company."

M'gann stood silent for a moment or two longer, taking in the sweet scent swarming over the bouquet, "This is so thoughtful, B'arzz. Really, thank you so much. They'll look wonderful on my desk. And I really appreciate your company, too."

"That makes me most happy to hear," B'arzz said, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek, "I apologize that my first gift to you took so long. I was just trying - "

"To find the perfect one," M'gann rolled her eyes and took a step forward, their faces still alarmingly close as her voice lowered to a whisper, "I know. I didn't mind, considering the payoff. But, I'm a little confused. Did the florist forget a flower? Usually bouquets like this come in a dozen."

B'arzz paused at her question, wondering if it was better to leave that little message a mystery, "...It might have."

M'gann rose an brow, picking up on his cautious tone, "There's something you're not telling me. I bet the number of roses means something too."

"Perhaps you should study flowers with me sometime," B'arzz suggested, looking away from M'gann's curious gaze, "And you could find out for yourself. It can be very rewarding."

"So, this is your way of asking me out on a date at your house?" M'gann asked, though her voice carried no amount of malice or anger. Rather, it was laced with intrigue and something else that B'arzz could not yet decode, "Okay, I'll bite. I'll meet you in Taos tomorrow. Sound like a plan?"

"Yes, jaaneman," B'arzz answered, taking her hand into his and leading her out the door, "It does. But I would not mind eating lunch right about now."

"You're lucky I haven't eaten yet," M'gann giggled, following him out the hallway, "But shouldn't I put the flowers away?"

"Take them," B'arzz said, "I have found bouquets are great conversation starters. I would know; ten women and seven men asked who I was giving them to and why on my way here."

M'gann laughed again, squeezing his hand a little tighter, "Alright then. Maybe someone will tell me what eleven roses signifies."

"Maybe they will," B'arzz replied, the urge to lift her hand up to his lips growing stronger by the second.

For while he appreciated M'gann, he could think of no better way to tell her she was truly loved then by purchasing a dozen roses and leaving one behind to give the next day.

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Just to clarify, eleven roses do convey something in the language of flowers: it means the recipient is deeply loved and/or they are the most important person in the giver's life.

Jaaneman in Hindi literally means "soul of me" and is a gender neutral way of saying 'sweetheart' or 'darling.' It just seems like something B'arzz would find appealing. He also calls her amorcito, which means "little love" in Spanish and is used for both men and women X3