Hearts in Twining
By T. L. Lawrence
ST:FBE characters are the property of ION Entertainment. I merely borrowed them.
He wandered aimlessly past the shops that lined the snow-dusted street, windows sporting Cupids and hearts and expensive special-someone gifts almost before the Christmas displays had been removed. The cold air bit his skin, and he burrowed down into his coat, huddling his face to his collar to ward off the sting.
He continued his meandering progress down the sidewalk, dodging the busy pedestrians eager to escape the February wind. A book in one window caught his eye and he stopped briefly to consider the latest inspirational romance novel on display.
Did she have it already? He knew she read a lot – but he wasn't sure what genres she liked. It had never come up in conversation. Funny, no matter how long or how well you knew a person, there always seemed to be a question or two that you never thought to ask.
Not that he had anyone in mind for his shopping. In fact, had anyone asked him just then who he was shopping for, he would have denied shopping at all. Even as he found himself entering the last store on the block, he would have maintained that he wasn't shopping. He was... merely browsing.
The denial was harder to hold onto when he heard himself ask the over-eager clerk to see the item that had captured his attention from the display window. "It's perfect," he decided when he finally held it in his hands. "She'll love it."
"Would you like me to wrap it up for you, sir?" The clerk barely concealed her glee at the possibility of a sale.
He hesitated. Should he buy it? Did he have the right to give her a present for Valentine's Day? And not just any present... this present? Fingering the item he held, he found it difficult to breathe as the possible implications of such a gift took hold.
This was insane. He was insane. And very likely had a death wish, which would be summarily granted when word got out, no matter his intentions. If word got out… and whatever his intentions actually were.
Looking up at the clerk who was waiting for an answer, he surprised himself again. "Yes, please. And could it be delivered?"
oOo
February 14th. Even in such a place as the Hoover Building, austere and foreboding from the outside, Cupid had left his mark. Little foil hearts showed up on the hallway floors occasionally, trailed there from various offices. The scent of roses and carnations wafted in the air, punctuated by sneezes from those poor souls whom Mother Nature had seen fit to saddle with allergies.
Even the Management Services Office had been adorned with a lace-edged heart. Nice to see someone likes Randy, today at least.
His own unit's Bullpen was no different. Given that there were three women on the core team, with a half-dozen others among the interns and analysts that made up the support staff, it was unsurprising that tissue hearts were draped all over the place and the chocolate population in the goodie jar had quintupled.
After hanging up his coat, he picked up the box he'd placed on his desk and proceeded to make his own contribution to the day. Currently having no personal sweetheart, he'd spent the evening before his impromptu shopping spree in his basement greenhouse, fashioning small bouquets for each of the women in the Bullpen. He placed one carefully on each desk, hoping the recipients would arrive before his handiwork wilted.
"Looking to score before the day's out, mate?" The quiet appreciation for the fairer sex was shattered by the loud twang of an Australian Neanderthal.
Myles Leland III turned to glare at his colleague, wondering for the millionth time exactly how Bobby Manning had managed to not only capture, but retain his hold on Darcy D'Angelo as long as he did. In fact, if Darcy hadn't taken the job in L.A., she might have actually talked him into an engagement ring.
"Saint Valentine's Day was originally a celebration for sweethearts, it is true, but in more recent times it is just as appropriate to express friendship, admiration, and any number of other sentiments that do not involve sports metaphors." He dropped the empty box on his desk again, heard something shift beneath it and picked it up again.
Bobby smirked. "Looks like you're on someone's preferred list after all." He stretched suddenly and shook the kinks out of his neck. "I need coffee. You want something from across the street?"
"Nonfat mocha latte, please." Myles was staring at the flat white box with its red ribbon.
"Wimp. Back in ten or so." The Aussie loped out the door, whistling.
Alone again, the blond agent sat down at his desk, the cool, smooth surface of the box against his fingers. What's this? And more to the point, who is it from? He glanced up suddenly, noting Bobby's presence in direct correlation to the discovery of the box, and prudently checked it for ticking and unusual odors. Finding none, he used a letter opener to slit the ribbon, then lifted the cover slowly.
And drew in a deep breath at what he found.
oOo
"I don't care what the occasion is, I love getting roses." Tara Williams tucked her bouquet into one section of her pencil holder and added a little water to it. "Especially with Stanley in Germany. So thank you, Myles."
He sketched a slight bow to her from his desk. "You're quite welcome."
"Why all different colors, though?" Jack Hudson leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head. "Isn't the idea of a bouquet that they match?"
"Here it comes." Lucy rolled her eyes.
Myles ignored her. "Roses can symbolize many different sentiments, based solely on color. Personal preferences aside, of course. "I chose to include one each of the more familiar colors in each bouquet in order that I might wish the ladies in the office both a Happy Valentine's Day and the dream of their choice. From the person of their choice."
He reclined in his chair, resting his feet on the lower drawer of his desk. "Red, naturally, is the lover's rose, true love stronger than thorns. Various hues symbolize different levels of romantic desire. White roses symbolize loyalty or platonic love, friendship."
"Never something a bloke wants to give or get on Cupid's Day." Bobby's comment earned him a few paper clips tossed in his direction.
"Pink roses denote grace, gentility, elegance and refinement," Myles continued, rising now to lean against the edge of his desk. "They are the rose of sweet thoughts, and often a sign of a secret admirer. Yellow roses, though symbolic of jealousy in Victorian times, have come in modern times to be given as a sign of friendship, sometimes as a sign of sympathy. It is the rose of familiar love and domestic happiness."
"I guess it's red and yellow for Donna tonight," Dimitrius mused. "Unless I want to be black and blue."
There was laughter at that, and even Myles found himself smiling. "Glad I could help."
"What about the other colors?" Tara was fussing with her bouquet again. "Do they all mean something?" She waved off the disgusted look Lucy gave her. "What? I want to know."
"Other colors are less frequently given as gifts, but there is symbolism for them as well." Myles ticked four more off on his fingers as he explained them. "Orange is a warm color that says 'I'm proud of you.' Purple roses lend an air of enchantment, but also of warning. Because Catholic priests wear purple during Lent, it can be seen as a symbol of discretion, of proceeding carefully. Blue roses symbolize fantasy and impossibility. Hoping for a miracle and new possibilities."
He frowned slightly as he ticked the last one off. "And black roses, the darkest red ones, are usually thought of as a representation of betrayal, of death. But it's often misunderstood as a gift, because the symbolism really denotes a death of fixed ideas. The true message is the promise that soon you will know something you did not know before. A rejuvenation lies on the horizon."
"How do you know all this stuff?" Bobby was staring at him. "And frankly, why do you know all this stuff?"
He shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I garden. My particular fascination happens to be roses. Therefore, I learn as much about them as I can." Myles returned to his desk before the furry golden blur that had just entered the room could reach more than his jacket sleeve. "Good morning to you, Levi. You're late, I believe. Last-minute shopping for the neighbor's poodle?"
Lucy smirked. "More like Sue stopping for the delivery man headed toward our door when I left." She walked over and touched Sue's arm. "So? I saw a box with a red ribbon. Was it for you or for me?"
ME. Sue tapped her chest. BEAUTIFUL GIFT. BEAUTIFUL NOTE.
More than one set of eyes settled on her. She smiled shyly. "Something very special."
"From?" Tara was waving her hand in a come-on-come-on gesture.
"The card wasn't signed." Sue hung up her coat and sat down at her desk.
Lucy's brows were doing a little dance. "A secret admirer?"
"It would seem that Cupid is being secretive all around." Bobby grabbed the box on his colleague's desk before Myles could stop him. "Myles also received an anonymous gift. At least there was no card when I looked while he was delivering vouchers to Randy."
"Oooh, what'd you get?" Tara pouted slightly when Myles retrieved the box and started to put it in his desk. "Aw, come on, Myles. Stanley's a world away; can't I enjoy the holiday vicariously?"
He was silent, considering very carefully. Then he sighed and set the box in her hands. "It's not what you think. At least, I don't believe it is."
She wrinkled her nose at him and grinned as she lifted the lid and pulled back the tissue. Then the teasing was gone as her eyes went wide. "Myles… wow, this is beautiful. Unusual, but beautiful all the same." At his nod, she turned the box around so they could all see.
Three small square frames, ebony with gilt trim, encased delicate gold parchment. In the middle of each was a stylized symbol of some sort in bold brush strokes.
"Woah." Bobby's typical answer.
"What's it mean?" Jack had taken his eyes off Sue for exactly one minute to study the artwork, but his comment was made only after he went back to watching her discreetly.
"It's Chinese brushwork." Myles retrieved his gift from Tara and replaced the lid. "A medium I have been recently adding to my collection. I'll need to do a little research to figure out the exact meaning, but it is a positive sentiment." He tossed a glare at Bobby. "So the forthcoming repartee is unnecessary."
Tara just smiled and patted his arm. "Well, I think it's sweet. Something personal. Someone who knows you fairly well, at least." She then perched on Sue's desk. "How about you? Gonna share?"
Sue blushed again. "It's… I can't really explain about it. It's complicated. Not the gift, I mean…" She trailed off, unsure of herself. "It's very personal. Even more so than Myles'."
"Do you know who it's from?" Jack's eyes narrowed further.
Bobby chuckled. "Okay, well, now we know who it's not from."
oOo
She was trapped. If she'd had time this morning, she'd have just left it home and pondered the significance later in the privacy of her own room. As she was sure had been intended. But no. It was in her bag, Tara was very good at puppy-dog eyes, and the look she was getting from Jack set her nerves on edge about five different ways.
"Well?" Lucy's eyes were like saucers. Sue didn't need to be able to hear to imagine a voice going up in pitch.
"Since the card wasn't signed, I expect the person wishes their identity to remain unknown. And that's ok with me. It's not a stalker, Jack, so don't look at me like that."
He stood and walked around his desk, leaning against it and crossed his arms tightly over his chest. "You just implied you didn't know the sender. So how do you know it's not a stalker?"
"Because I do." Her voice had an edge to it, one she rarely used. Then she sighed and reached into her bag. "Here, Tara. It's breakable."
Tara "Ooohed" again as she lifted a pewter chain from the box. Attached to the chain was a wire frame holding a glass panel with a sunset lithographed onto it. The computer tech read the saying on it. "Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away." She looked at Sue again. "That's… that's incredible. What a wonderful sentiment."
"But again, an unusual gift for Valentine's Day," D commented. "Seems like it's gonna be one of those years all around."
Jack straightened suddenly from picking something up off the floor. He froze as he read it, his fist clenching around it. "'You have shown me so many moments like this. Thank you.'" He looked up, his eyes flashing. "So you think this is just a what? A trinket? Some secret buddy who enjoys the moments you've taken his breath away? Do you or do you not know who sent this?"
She took a breath, ready to defend herself, angry that he seemed to think she couldn't handle her own life and relationships. "Jack…"
"It seems to me that one could also infer from the sentiment that Sue has shown the sender a portion of his or her life that they may have been missing. It doesn't necessarily mean a romantic breath-taking."
Her eyes went wide, but she managed to not betray her surprise.
Jack swung on Myles. "You mean to tell me that if something like this, with this note, showed up unannounced on Anne's doorstep, on Valentine's Day, that you wouldn't be tearing up the city to find out who sent it?"
"I think I have enough faith in my sister that no, I wouldn't." Blue-grey eyes narrowed slightly. "I trust her enough to believe her if she says it's 'nothing,' or to allow her some measure of privacy if that is what she wishes. But then, she's my sister, Jack. What are we talking about here?"
Oh, dear Father, no. Not here. Not now. Sue's nerves settled in her stomach like a rock. The issue had been coming more to the forefront after the case at Callahan and Merced… what were they exactly? She didn't know, and she was starting to wonder if they were really anything. This gift… is it simply what it seems to be, or am I going to have to worry about something new?
Jack's mouth opened and closed several times, but he glared at her directly again. "Are you sure it's harmless?"
"Yes. Can we get to work now?" She put the suncatcher back in its box and put it away. She'd figure it out later. "Thank you for the flowers, by the way, Myles. It's nice to be remembered even as a friend on Valentine's Day."
Tara giggled at the sheepish looks on Jack and Bobby's faces. "Renaissance Man strikes again."
oOo
Lunch plans?
He stared at the text message on his phone. Talk about nerves of steel. I am impressed. He tapped out a reply. None at the moment.
"Clandestine rendezvous?" Bobby's grin floated across the desk space between them.
"Only with my accountant." The phone vibrated in his hand again.
I'm headed for Café Italia in Arlington. Meet me there?
Far enough out… smart. He smiled as he replied this time. You're on. Fifteen minutes.
"That must be some accountant, to have you grinning like that." Bobby obviously wasn't going to let it rest.
Myles stood and got his coat, then entertained the Aussie with a smug look. "I'm about to have my tax bill cut in half, thanks to an extra deduction he just discovered. I may just buy him roses today."
oOo
He walked into the restaurant, his pulse hammering in his veins. The prospect of what conversation was about to take place left him a bit weak in the knees, but he intended to see it through.
Fabricating the story about his accountant left a bad taste in his mouth, something that had been happening more frequently of late, but it was preferable to the truth until he figured out exactly what her reaction to his gift was going to be. And what hers was saying to him. And it ensured that he got out of the office alive, for now at least.
"Myles." Her smile warmed him. At least she's not angry. That's a start.
"So, are we hiding, or you just had a craving for the fettuccine alfredo?" He sat down across from her and asked the waitress to bring him a club soda before she could make it all the way to the table.
"I'm sorry?" Her brow furrowed in a way that had become both familiar and endearing to him.
He smiled. YOU-ME HIDE? OR … He pointed to "Fettuccine Alfredo" on the menu. … YOU CRAVE?
Her eyes went saucer-wide. "Where'd you learn all that?"
His shoulders lifted in a shrug. "I found an online ASL dictionary, with video representations. Fortunately, neither HIDE nor OR was that difficult, and CRAVE is the same sign as HUNGRY."
THANK YOU, she signed in return. "It's nice that you made the effort."
WELCOME. The waitress brought his drink and took their orders. He was glad to see that the woman treated Sue with respect – many service people didn't. She was apparently a frequent patron, because the waitress stopped long enough to greet Levi as well. The dog shifted slightly against his foot, snapping him out of his thoughts. He took a drink and then a deep breath.
"So…" Ok, that was lame. Why am I nervous? He took another breath and tried again. "Sue, I… thank you for the gift. It's beautiful. What do the fingerspelled letters mean?"
She smiled again. "It's a Deaf acronym that translates loosely to 'finally' or 'at last.' I…" Her cheeks colored. "We've made a lot of progress in the last year, I think. It seemed fitting."
"We have and it does." He leaned back in the chair a bit, pursing his lips as he collected his thoughts. "Sue, I meant what I said about having a connection with you. I'm not exactly sure what kind of connection, but it's there. And it means a lot to me. But… I mean…" He sighed. "I hope you don't think, because of what I wrote…"
"It was lovely. And I'm glad you remember our conversation in the stairwell. I've seen a lot of things differently, too, since then." She reached her hand toward him, but waited for him to allow her into his space. "Myles, if we keep this up, we're going to talk in circles all afternoon. What were you really saying with the suncatcher?"
"Honestly? I'm not sure." He sighed as he took her hand, sitting forward and looking at her directly. "I know I have gained a real friend, a rarity in my life. More than that, I choose not to explore right now." Now he smiled back at her. "How about you? Was there more to my gift than 'It's about time'?"
Sue laughed. "It was never meant as that. And I don't know, Myles. There's really enough going on in my life right now without worrying about relationships. Good friendships are welcome, though."
"Hearts and lives can be woven together in more ways than one." He raised his club soda. "Here's to… whatever Providence holds in store. And to enjoying today."
"I'll drink to that." She tapped his glass with her own. "Happy Valentine's Day."
FINIS