Jess was just as human as the next girl. Gray and dreary days made her long to return to a warm bed, preferably with someone to share it with. She virtuously tried not to let her thoughts stray down that primrose path, but a certain SAS captain made it difficult not to indulge her daydreams once in a while.
With her mini Cooper safely stowed in the carpark, Jess trudged through the puddles to the doorway's shelter and used her ID band to gain entrance to the first tier of the ARC's security. In the staff room, she shrugged her bag off her shoulder, intent on putting it and her slicker away in her lockerbefore heading to her desk. A few numbers punched into the keypad and the door swung wide revealing that it was not as empty as she'd expected it to be. Precisely in the center of the shelf a thin tube of glass stood upright holding two blooming irises; one yellow and one light blue.
Jess blinked for a few moments in confusion before practicality reasserted itself in her mind. Ah, right; she had forgotten about Valentine's Day. So she had an admirer, did she? That would explain the presence of the flowers. Not many people could get through ARC security and had access to employee lockers. She'd pay a visit to the on duty head of security once she'd settled in. A man who was enough of a romantic to leave her flowers on Valentine's Day was certainly worth consideration. Decision made, she delicately extracted the vase from the back of the locker and stowed both coat and bag in their proper places.
Jess made her way through the second and third tier security with her coffee in one hand and the vase in the other. Bemused and quizzical glances followed her down the halls as she made her way to the ADD. Yes, surely her admirer would be easy to identify. A quick check of the duty logs and a look at the CCTV system and she ought to have her answers. Even if it turned out to be nothing more than a single date, perhaps it would help her shake her unrequited hopes for Captain Hilary Becker.
When she arrived at the ADD, sitting on her keyboard was a bunch of wildflowers tied with a ribbon. Bright pinks, yellows, white, and dusty blue made her smile with delight. Obviously her secret admirer knew enough about her to guess that she wasn't a formal arrangement sort of girl. While they didn't necessarily all go together, they were certainly pretty. A plain white earthenware pitcher sat beside the keyboard with a slip of folded paper inside. Extracting the slip of paper, Jess saw 5 words printed in a neat and tiny handwriting; "flowers are love's truest language". Jess took the pitcher to the loo, filled it with water, and placed it carefully out of the way to the side of the ADD before depositing the flowers. Accompanied by the irises, the slip of paper stayed beside her keyboard for further contemplation.
A quick trip down two floors to the duty officer proved futile.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," he said with a smile, "but I don't have any record of someone being granted access to staff lockers today."
"Last night perhaps?"
Yet again, the answer was no. The officer on duty the previous night had taken meticulous notes regarding the particulars of his shift. But there was no mention of anyone being granted access to her personal locker. Sighing regretfully, Jess returned upstairs. The irises and note stood mockingly beside her keyboard still. Suddenly Jess had a flash of inspiration; the note. It as good as said that the flowers were the message. In the Victorian era, flowers exchanged between lovers always contained symbolism. Could it be…?
Sliding hurriedly into her seat, Jess punched up a browser window and looked for a dictionary on the language of flowers. Irises first. She scrolled through the options until she came to a picture of a blue iris similar to her own. "Faith & Hope". A cryptic answer when taken all on its own. Continuing she found the yellow iris as well. "I have a message for you." Ah! So she'd been right, the flowers were to speak where the man was too shy to do so. How delightfully challenging.
While it took her the better part of the morning to accurately identify the wildflowers, eventually Jess had her list. Blue Salvia - I think of you. Sweet William - Gallantry, A smile. Eglantine - Poetry, I wound to heal. Indian Jasmine - I attach myself to you. She smiled. Perhaps it'd be wise to confirm her interpretations with Emily.
"Those are certainly the flowers in question," Emily mused, "but I believe you've gotten it a bit muddled."
Jess looked on curiously as Emily carefully switched the order in which they were laid out on the table until she appeared to be satisfied.
Pointing to the pair of irises, she explained, "you had the irises backwards. The yellow should have come first to tell you that the flowers were a messenger. The blue was to intimate that the message was one of faith & hope."
Jess nodded eagerly as her stomach fluttered, "and the others? How was I to tell in what order they belonged?"
"The name of each flower was the key," Emily pointed as she ticked them off with a tap of her fingernail. "Jasmine, Eglantine, Sweet William, Salvia. Don't you see? He's spelled out your name with the first letter of each flower's name."
"Let me see if I can get this straight on my own, "Jess hazarded. "He hopes for an attachment but he's been wounded and is trying to heal. I make him bravely smile, whenever he thinks of me."
Emily clapped with approval, "I suspect you would have excelled at the parlor intrigues of my time."
Jess collected her flowers with a mute nod of gratitude. She'd spent far more time figuring out this little puzzle and Lester might fire her if she didn't get some actual work done soon. For the rest of the afternoon she promised herself that she would stick to task and avoid further speculation as to the identity of her admirer.
"A little birdie told me it took you all of 2 hours to figure out the flower puzzle," a voice whispered quietly in her ear, puffs of breath stirring the hair against the back of her neck.
Becker. She would have recognized his voice in the middle of a hurricane. Her thoughts stuttered and ground to a halt as she processed what he'd said.
She turned hesitantly in her chair to see a gentle smirk flit across his lips. Before she could think of a response, he laid another flower in her lap, a gaily pink moss rose with leaves but no thorns. As his hand retreated his long fingers brushed delicately across the place where her thigh disappeared beneath the hem of her short skirt.
"I'm making no promises," he said lowly. "I've cursed and sworn myself for an idiot a dozen times over for taking this chance. But my heart seems to have ideas of its own. So if you're willing, I'd like to take things slowly and see where our attraction to each other might lead."
Moss Rose - Confession of love Rose leaf - Have hope Thornless Rose - Love at first sight