Well, this is a prompt I came across. It's something along the lines of, "Person A runs a flowers shop and Person B comes in and asks them how to say 'Fuck you' in flowers." I thought it'd fit Bruce and Diana well. XD

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Seventeen year old Bruce Wayne was many things.

Many said he was spoiled. Some called him cold. Others referred to him as arrogant. Some even went as far as to refer to him as some of the most vulgar names in the English language when they thought he wasn't listening. It was actually rather amusing to watch them stop whispering and straighten up when they noticed him walk by. As if the idiots couldn't be anymore obvious.

Most people would eat their shirts if they knew he worked at a flower shop.

Bruce wasn't happy about the arrangement himself. It had been entirely Alfred's idea. Apparently, spending hours a day in the dark on his computer was "unhealthy" and would "ruin his eyes." And if he didn't do something with himself, he was going to end up "alone for the rest of his bloody life."

Whatever.

It wasn't as if the job was hard. It was a small shop and not many people even stopped by daily. So he was just sitting at the counter bored out of his mind Everyday. In the summer heat. Without an air conditioner.

Fucking perfect.

Bruce's attention was caught the chiming of a bell, indicating that someone had entered the shop. In came a girl about his age with long, wavy, dark hair and big, bright cerulean blue eyes. Her skin had a Mediterranean tint to it and she was rather tall, almost as tall as himself. She wore a charming, perfectly white smile on her face which was highlighted by her prominently high cheekbones.

To say that she was pretty would be a gross understatement.

"Can I help you?" Well, that came out a bit ruder than he intended. But it was the middle of June, it was ninety degrees outside, and he was stuck selling flowers. Of course he wasn't in the best mood.

The girl's smile didn't falter in the slightest. "Yes, you can," she answered, sauntering up to the counter. He noticed her slight accent as she spoke. Then she asked, in the sweetest, cheeriest tone possible, "How do you say 'Fuck you' in flowers?"

Well, that was unexpected.

Bruce blinked. "Excuse me? Who are these for, exactly?"

Still, the girl was smiling sweetly. "My brother," she told him. "Well, half-brother."

Bruce couldn't help but question, "And what exactly did he do to warrant such and insult?" He hated to admit it, but his interest was definitely peaked. This girl intrigued him.

She grinned at him, seeming all too happy to answer. "He and I are always fighting," she explained. "especially when it comes to our father's attention. "I graduated a few weeks ago, valedictorian, mind you, and my darling brother told my father it was taking place the day after. So now I looked ridiculous all by myself on graduation."

"Interesting," commented Bruce, stepping out from behind the counter. He lead her to the only section of which he was particularly fond of. "Well, if you're going for deep hatred, like undeniably evil hatred, which I doubt you are, you could try black roses. They symbolize death."

The girl tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Hmm," she hummed. "As much as I dislike Aries, I don't want him dead. Anything else?"

He nodded. "Understandable. Geraniums mean stupidity. Fitting?"

She snorted delicately. "As idiotic as Aries is, I need something a little less childish."

Bruce pursed his lips in thought. "I think I have the perfect flower," he announced, steering her to the right. "Orange lilies. They represent hatred and distaste."

The girl smiled brightly. "I think those are perfect." She reached for her purse. "How much?"

They made their way back over to the counter. "Twelve."

She handed him two tens and two ones before she was given the flowers. "Thank you very much."

As she turned to leave, Bruce couldn't stop himself from calling out, "Wait!" When she was facing him, he dared to utter, "I didn't catch your name."

"Diana," answered the girl. "Diana Prince." And with that, she was gone.

Bruce sat behind the counter, thinking for a while. Diana Prince... that name sounded familiar. Taking out his tablet, he searched it up. A picture of the girl he just encountered came up. Of course. She was Diana Prince, daughter of two different, wealthy CEOs; Zeus Olympus and Hippolyta Prince. He vaguely wondered if she knew who he was.

Shaking his head, Bruce tried to get the beautiful girl out of his mind and get back to work.

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Yeah... humor is not my strong suit. Anyway, I tried. I hope you liked it and please review!