Getting flowers is usually either something really good or really bad. There's no, 'Happy Wednesday! Here's some flowers!' It's either, 'Happy anniversary! I love you!' 'Get well soon,' or 'My condolences.' This is especially true at hospitals.
On any given day, Emma Swan could go from delivering flowers for 'Congrats! It's a boy!' to 'Sorry for your loss,' in a matter of minutes, just walking up and down the halls of Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston. The happiness of some families welcoming new members into their lives made her tear up as she delivered the bouquets, and the sorrow of others who were saying their goodbyes often did the same. Still, on most days, she was able to hold herself together and offer her own condolences and congratulations without an emotional response. That was her job. To deliver flowers. To make people happy, or to ease their pain. That was what she did for a living.
It did get old sometimes, though, especially when she had to deliver a cheesy bouquet of 12 roses with some cliché note saying, 'Thanks for last night.' That was what irritated her most. Flowers sent without sincerity. Almost exclusively from men.
Aside from that, she was mostly pleased with her career choice. Her parents owned the flower shop, and at first, she'd wanted nothing to do with it, but once she realized that nothing else seemed to suit her fancy, she became more open to the idea of taking up the family business. Plus, flowers normally cheer people up, even during dark times, which was what Emma truly loved most about her job. Flowers make precious moments even more special and painful moments a little less difficult to bear. They remind people of the beauty in life, and Emma got to see that reminder spread across her customer's faces in the form of a smile almost every day.
The hospital was challenging, though, because it tended to be one of the sadder stops along her delivery route. Funeral homes were emotionally difficult as well, but she was happy to be a part of something so important and to be able to share some beauty with grieving families. However, her least favorite task was weddings. There was nothing she hated more than the sickly-sweet smell of a wedding venue covered in an excess of flowers. She loved seeing people smile and helping a romance blossom. That was true. But weddings were just too much.
Besides, it didn't help that Emma hadn't had a lover in years. In fact, her first and only experience with a lover was back in high school. Now that she was turning twenty-four the following month, her family was starting to wonder if she'd ever find a partner. She wasn't in a rush, though. She just didn't like having her relationship status rubbed in her face while two people in love tied the knot.
Still, the hospital was where she did the majority of her business. Her parents handled most of the personal orders from the shop itself, and she took care of the deliveries, which meant that she was at Massachusetts General almost every day of the week. That being the case, she knew most of the doctors and nurses there and offered them a friendly wave every morning that she arrived. They were all grateful for her bright, warm smile and the cheer that her cargo brought to the patients.
One such morning, however, she found someone new sitting at the front desk. A woman she'd never seen before. She appeared to be a nurse. Dark hair, dark eyes, olive complexion… beautiful, in every sense of the word. So beautiful, in fact, that Emma completely stopped pushing her cart full of the day's orders and stared directly at her in a haze of dumbfounded awe.
"Emma?" one of the female doctors addressed her, putting her hand on her shoulder. "You alright, dear?"
"Oh! Doctor Grayson! Hi!" Emma cried, shaking herself from her stupor as she turned to face the woman. "Yes, I'm quite fine, actually. Doing great! How are you?"
"Rough day already, I'm afraid. I'm sorry to say that I think your deliveries for this morning will be given mostly in the wake of bad news. Things seem to be looking a bit dreary around here at the moment. We're certainly happy to see you here, bringing some cheer to all of us."
The woman offered Emma a small but sincere smile as she let her hand drop from the florist's shoulder and turned away. The flower-bearing blonde turned back towards her cart, but as she did so, the young woman at the desk caught her eye once more. She didn't even try to look away. In fact, she was completely oblivious to the fact that she was staring.
"Can… Can I help you?" the mysterious woman finally asked as she looked up from her computer screen to meet the Emma's gaze.
"I, uh…" she blurted out, realizing all at once what she'd been doing. "I was looking for room 468?"
"Emma," the woman beside the new nurse laughed. "You know exactly where that room is. It's on the fourth floor, right in the middle of the first hallway."
"Oh… Right… Yeah," the blonde muttered, staring back down at her cart and pushing it slowly in the wrong direction.
"Emma, are you sure you're alright, dear? The… The elevator's the other way."
"Oh! I, um… I had some stuff on this floor too that I forgot about."
The florist's face turned the same shade of red as the tulips she had in some of her bouquets as she pushed her cart around the corner.
By the time she returned the next day, she'd nearly pushed the beautiful young woman from her mind. (Mostly with thoughts of, 'She's a nurse. Way too good for you,' which were combatted by 'Damn, she's beautiful.') Unfortunately (or fortunately) for Emma, the woman was once again sitting at the front desk, working on paperwork, when she arrived with her delivery.
"Good morning, guys-" she started to say, but the brunette immediately captured her complete attention and caused her to crash her cart into a parked, empty wheelchair.
"Oh, my gosh, Emma!" a different female doctor exclaimed, jumping out of her seat and rushing over to help as some of the bouquets fell over. "Are you okay?"
"Shhhi-" she started to say, but caught herself as she looked around at the audience of people staring at her, quickly correcting her word choice to, "Frick. I'm so sorry!"
"It's alright, dear," the older woman chuckled, putting a comforting hand on Emma's back as she used her other to help straighten the arrangements that had fallen over. "You should be good to go now. Just be careful, okay? We wouldn't want that to be a patient!"
Once again, Emma turned as red as her tulips and turned away, but just as luck would have it, she had turned in the direction of the newer nurse, who was staring straight at her. Oh, God, the blonde was thinking. Now I've gone and done it. Made a real ass of myself. Per usual. But she said nothing, instead resolving to quickly turn her attention back to her work as she disappeared around the corner.
For the next two days, oddly enough, she had no deliveries to the hospital. One day she brought flowers for a funeral, and the next she had hardly any deliveries at all and spent most of the day bored, playing games on her phone as she waited for her parents to call her with pick-up and drop-off information. On the third day, though, for some reason, there was an overflow of orders to be sent to Massachusetts General, and even though it was supposed to be her day off, and their part-time assistant was supposed to take the job, it was too much for him to do on his own. Thus, they decided collectively that the assistant would do the regular deliveries and Emma would take care of the hospital.
Unfortunately, this time, Emma had not been able to push the thoughts of the beautiful nurse from her mind. They were as fresh as the flowers she carried with her, so as she pushed her cart through the front doors, just as she always had, small beads of sweat began to form on her palms and on the back of her neck. She approached the desk slowly as she frantically tried to decide whether or not to say hello to the group of women (and one gentleman doctor) behind the desk. She decided against it, instead turning her cart before she reached the desk as she moved to proceed down the hallway.
Just as luck would have it, all of them noticed her – including the new young woman – and one of them decided to say 'hello.'
"Hi, Emma!" the woman said happily. "Great to see you! Too bad it's raining outside, huh? I'm sure your flowers will cheer everyone up, though!"
"H-Hi, Doctor Grayson… I… Yeah. I sure do hope so."
As she replied, the blonde rubbed her arm nervously as her glance shot around the room, always coming back to rest briefly on the young beauty sitting in front of the computer screen. For some reason, the nurse was looking sullen and withdrawn. Before Emma had a chance to wonder why, the gentleman doctor was making his way around the desk and patting her on the shoulder in a friendly gesture of good will. She forced herself to nod and smile, but inside, she was consumed by thoughts of the young melancholy nurse who had recently joined their staff.
Of course, Emma's flowers did bring some joy to the hospital and cheer up some of those who were having a rough go of things. But it didn't cheer up the beautiful new nurse, so it didn't cheer up Emma either. For some reason, she felt determined to bring some sunshine to the woman's day. Before leaving the hospital, she made an effort to – as casually as humanly possible – ask Doctor Grayson for the young woman's name, which she received with a knowing laugh. She wanted to ask if the woman was alright, but knew that would be over-stepping her boundaries, so she decided against it.
Later that afternoon, she returned to the hospital with her second batch of orders. This time, a few beads of sweat dripped down her back as she approached the front desk.
"Um… Pardon me, but… this one's for Regina Mills?" Emma stated uncertainly, looking around at the group. "I guess since I know the rest of you, this must be for you," she added, addressing the new nurse who sat behind the counter.
"W-What?" the nurse stuttered, eyes snapping away from the computer screen to rest on the large bouquet of flowers sitting on the desk in front of her. "But who could they possibly be from?"
"Read the card?"
Regina reached out cautiously and took the small note card from the bouquet and stared down at the three words written in flawless cursive.
Cheer up, Sunshine.
At first, Emma's stomach dropped. Then, when the woman lifted her face, still looking horribly confused, but now also somewhat brighter, Emma began to feel better.
"They're peach roses, white daisies, and blue delphinium. A unique combination. Someone must really fancy you," the florist explained with a nervous smile. Then, she quickly told the nurse, "Have a good afternoon, Miss," and hurried off before the woman even had a chance to say, 'Thank you.'
The following day, when Emma arrived at the hospital, she found a different set of doctors huddled around the desk in the lobby. Regina was nowhere to be seen. She must be doing rounds, the blonde reasoned. It was then that she noticed the flowers perched on the front of the desk, next to the clipboard of paperwork. They were still just as fresh as the day before and stood proudly, their petals soft but firm as they brightened the room.
Over the next few days, Emma's arrival at the hospital and Regina's turn to make rounds seemed to coincide, since the young woman had not been present at the desk when the florist had arrived. On the seventh day, she saw the woman briefly as she hurried around a corner heading in the opposite direction as Emma was about to bring her cart. What she noticed next, before continuing on her way, was that the flowers on the desk were finally beginning to wilt.
Surely enough, the next day, Emma arrived with a 'special delivery' for the young woman. This time, the blonde found that the nurse conveniently happened to be sitting at the desk in front of the computer screen once again.
"Good morning, Miss Mills," Emma addressed her shyly. "I believe I have another delivery for you."
"What? But I-"
"That's what it says. Right here–" Emma pointed to the tag on the flowers where her name was printed "-on the tag."
"But… I…"
"It seems you have a secret admirer. A patient, perhaps? Rumor has it, from Doctor Grayson, that you're a very gifted and well-loved nurse."
"Oh, I… That's…" Regina tried, but trailed off, failing to form the sounds needed to communicate with the woman on the other side of the desk.
Instead, the nurse took the flowers gingerly, setting them beside the ones that had wilted.
"They're so pretty," the nurse finally sighed, tenderly touching the faded petals of the old bouquet. "I don't want to throw them out."
"That's what the new ones are for, I assume," Emma told her sweetly, finally managing a nervous smile.
"I don't understand why anyone would want to give me flowers. I mean… I… I've never gotten them before."
"What? Really? Surely, someone must have-"
The brunette laughed, leaning back in the chair, and said, "You're funny, Emma."
The blonde shivered when she heard her name on the woman's lips. She could almost taste the sound.
Finally, she managed to formulate a response and said, "All I know is that every woman deserves flowers, and every woman deserves to feel beautiful."
This earned a blush from the nurse, who quickly looked away, her eyes landing on the base of the pink glass of the vase containing her flowers.
"Pink lilies," Emma commented slowly. When Regina made no response, but lifted her eyes to the petals of the flowers and started to smile, she continued, "They match your complexion right now."
The joke was not lost on Regina, who blushed even brighter and spun around in her chair so that her back was facing the florist. The blonde's heart skipped a beat when the sound of the woman's soft giggles of nervous embarrassment reached her ears.
"You have an excellent day, Miss," the green-eyed woman said with a gentle smile, savoring the light noise that was filling her ears.
As she turned away, though, Regina spun back around in the chair and finally got her chance to say, 'Thank you.'
"These are wonderful. I just wish I knew who sent them."
With a shrug, Emma responded, "No note this time. Sometimes it's better not to know," and turned to make her own rounds of the hospital.
The following day, Emma arrived with yet another delivery, but the woman was not at the desk, so she left the flowers with Doctor Grayson, along with her own handwritten note. This she scribbled in sloppy print, so that it looked nothing like the note she'd given with the first bouquet.
'Pink roses, pink Asiatic lilies, pink carnations, and pink waxflower, all tied up with a pink bow. Someone thinks pink suits you! No note this time either. Enjoy!
Your loyal florist,
Emma'
Emma didn't see the nurse again over the next few days, but the new flowers remained on the desk. She smiled as she gazed at them, happy to see the buds still looking healthy. She was so distracted by their continued presence in the lobby that she stopped in her tracks to gaze at them thoughtfully, just a little longer. Before she had a chance to shake herself out of her daze, she was startled by a tall, handsome doctor who addressed her from behind.
"Good morning, Emma!" the dark-haired man exclaimed loudly. "Lovely to see you."
"Hi, Doctor Quinn," the blonde responded with a weak, distracted smile.
"Are you alright, dear? You seem-"
"Oh, don't worry about her, Doctor Quinn," an older woman interrupted with a sly smirk. "She's just a little love-struck."
"Pardon?" he asked, clearly confused.
"Miss Emma here has been distracted for days now."
"I'm… going to let you ladies talk it out… by yourselves… Have a nice day, Emma!"
With that, the man quickly turned around and hurried away, having no interest in being a part of the discussion that was to take place between the two women.
"What the hell was that about?" Emma asked under her breath. "I'm not-"
"It's okay, Emma. All of us noticed, except – unfortunately – her."
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about…" the blonde lied, looking anywhere but into the doctor's eyes.
"Come now, Emma. I'm old enough to know when I see someone falling head over heels for a girl."
"I'm not… I…"
"Listen, I'm not going to tell her, but you probably should. She's still completely oblivious about the flowers."
"But how… how did you know?" Emma asked, gaping at the woman.
"It's the way you look at her. The way you explain what each of the flowers is. And the way you light up when she smiles."
With a sigh, the blonde pushed a hand through her hair and looked down at her boots.
"She's never going to look at me the way she looks at those flowers."
"Oh, I don't think that's true." The woman smiled at her brightly, then added, "But you might want to give her a little hint, you know? Just… give her a clue."
"She doesn't even notice me. What's the point?"
"She will, Emma. You just need to open her eyes a little bit and help her see what's right in front of her."
"But how?"
"I'm sure you'll think of something."
The woman's sly smile returned as she patted the young florist on the shoulder then turned away, leaving Emma standing awkwardly alone in the middle of the lobby.
Back in her delivery truck, after her rounds at the hospital, she was left with only a few more private home deliveries for the day. Given that she had plenty of time, she plugged in her phone and put the music on shuffle. The song that came up first was ironically applicable to the situation, and just further exacerbated her frustration.
'So go ahead and ask her
For happy ever after
'Cause nobody knows what's coming
So why not take a chance on loving?'
Emma leaned back in her seat and shut her eyes with a sigh, allowing herself to relax, if only for a few moments. Doctor Grayson is probably right, she reasoned with herself. I need to just tell her. But everything inside her rebelled against this idea, and even her stomach heaved in a wave of nausea as she thought about making the confession. How was she supposed to hint at something she could barely admit to herself? Finally, she turned the key in the ignition and continued on her route to make other people quite a bit happier than she felt in that moment.
She spent the rest of her evening closing up the flower shop. She had sent her parents home early and offered to close the store herself. Though her parents had seen it as a wonderful gesture of kindness and an act of altruism, Emma had ulterior motives. Once the shop was closed down, she stood in the middle of the show room and looked around at the numerous, diverse flowers surrounding her. The room was bright with color, and it reminded her of Regina's smile. God, that's sappy, she was thinking, and scolded herself for the thought. I'm so immature.
With a sigh, she sat down on the counter and continued to gaze at the various displays. All different colors filled the room in a scattered rainbow, but as beautiful as it was to look at, Emma still felt a heavy sadness lingering.
"Now what?" she asked the flowers, looking sorrowful and melancholy, just as the nurse had the day before she'd received her first delivery from Emma.
The answer came in the form of – you guessed it! – flowers. This bouquet was also pink, but had the flare of some purple and white, which – in Emma's opinion – made it special. Of course, her choice of arrangement was directly from the heart, which made it even more nerve-wracking. After she put it together, she set it in the back room to pick up the next day with the rest of the deliveries.
That morning, she arrived at the shop early to put her personal arrangement in the truck before her mother noticed and asked any invasive questions. Her hand shook as she penned the note, but she managed to get it all out without having to scribble over any mistakes. She started to sweat during the drive to the hospital and seriously considered pulling over to dump a bottle of water over herself, but realized quickly that that would look ridiculous. By the time she arrived at Massachusetts General, she was shaking even worse than before, but what terrified her more was that the sweat was probably visible on her shirt.
As she climbed out of the vehicle, she checked her appearance in the reflection on the window and was relieved to find that she was not visibly wearing her anxiety. Once inside, she forced herself to walk straight up to the desk where – just as luck would have it – Regina was sitting quietly in front of the computer, not looking sad, but certainly not looking elated either. For once, the nurse was alone. Even though Emma's legs were currently made of Jello, she made it to the desk, but was unable to look into Regina's eyes when the woman lifted her head.
"Good morning, Emma," the nurse greeted her, smiling at last.
Emma's heart fluttered as though it were defective, and when she opened her mouth to speak, she nearly fumbled over the words. Thankfully, though, she caught herself, and managed to appear calm and collected, even though she was more than terrified.
"I have quite the beautiful bouquet for you today, Miss. Someone must reallythink you're special," Emma announced, reaching into her cart and carefully lifting the bouquet.
When she set it down on the desk, Regina's eyes went wide.
"Oh, wow," the nurse said breathlessly. "Those are…"
"Almost as beautiful as you," the blonde said softly, setting the note down on the desk and turning away.
She pushed the cart in the opposite direction, leaving Regina alone to read the note in private.
The first part of the note was written in the printed chicken-scratch that Emma had used to write the note she'd given the nurse from herself. Her signature at the bottom, though, was written in the flawless cursive she'd used for the first note that was supposedly from a 'secret admirer.' She hoped that would be enough of a hint for the woman to make the connection, but as she rounded the corner with her cart, she became unsure. Mostly, she wasn't certain which was more frightening: having Regina notice and have the realization of who the flowers were actually from, or having Regina be completely oblivious. Either way, she was terrified of both outcomes and was happy to hurry on her way to make the rest of her deliveries.
As luck would have it, as soon as Regina saw the note, her heart stopped from both surprise and something else. Something unfamiliar. Excitement. At first, she wasn't sure. Perhaps she was imagining it? But when she pulled the previous notes from her personal cubby, the penmanship of both types of handwriting matched.
'Long-stem lavender roses, purple statice, Stargazer lilies, and dianthus. Unique, like you, but not as pretty. I'm sure they were chosen especially for you.
Your loyal florist,
Emma'
Again, Regina's heart stopped as she read the words, but her thoughts and shock were interrupted Doctor Grayson, who quietly appeared behind her and put her hand on the nurse's shoulder.
"Well, well, well," the doctor said with a smile. "Aren't those pretty."
"I… Yes… They're…"
"From your secret admirer?"
"Angelica…" the brunette replied, informally using the doctor's first name. "I don't think it's quite a secret anymore…"
"No?"
The doctor tried to stifle the slyness of her smile, but it remained on her lips.
Without a verbal reply, Regina placed the notes on the desk in a row, in the order in which she'd received them, then looked back up at the woman who had grown to become her friend as well as her co-worker. The doctor continued to smile as she gazed down at the notes, her eyes lingering on the last one as she realized what Emma had intended.
"What do you think?" Regina finally asked, looking anxious for the woman's reply.
"What do you mean, dear?"
"I mean… Well… Isn't… Isn't it… Well… You know what I mean."
"I'm afraid I don't."
The doctor kept her cards close to her chest as her smile brightened. She certainly wasn't going to openly spill Emma's cover and break her confidence. She preferred to let Regina make the realization on her own, rather than intervene or assist. She was proud of Emma for her move, though, and was happy that Regina had picked up on the florist's hint.
"Angelica, come on. Isn't it-"
"Well, whoever sent these seems to have taken a great deal of care in choosing the arrangement. They must really fancy you."
With only an encouraging wink, the woman grabbed a pile of folders off the desk and turned to continue making her rounds.
Too afraid to be confronted by Regina (or to be unnoticed by her), Emma slipped out the back doors of the hospital and pushed her cart all the way around the building back to her truck. She sat there for a while, just thinking about the expression of surprise on Regina's face when she'd brought her flowers for the first time, and the way the sorrow had seemed to leave her eyes as they lit up. With a sigh, she leaned back against the seat and shut her eyes.
I shouldn't have done that, she was thinking. I should've just let her think it was someone else. How am I gonna show my face in there ever again? Maybe Alex can take over the hospital deliveries…
But as appealing as this was, the idea of never seeing Regina's face again made her stomach flip with nausea. As the flowers brightened Regina's day, the nurse's smile brightened Emma's, and she wasn't sure if she could go without that for more than a few days. Maybe she'd continue to bring the woman flowers, but keep pretending that they were from someone else, and that the last note had never been delivered. Yes, that was it. Just pretend it never happened. That'll work. So that became the plan. Pretend it never happened. Perfect!