Notes: Too early for a Valentine's fic? I was bored the other night and started looking up the meanings of flowers. There are about a hunred and some odd number webpages and even more books that list meanings, so I tried to choose two that I thought might be universal.
Usual disclaimer applies: Dan Schneider owns it.
iMean
You're ready for the usual display: the tech nerd falling over his shoes, – when did he get taller, anyway? – running hands nervously through his hair before muttering something undeniably cheesy – and the voice? When did that happen? – and shoving some kind of gift under the adorable and completely unwilling nose of your best friend.
But not this year.
The hobbledehoy walks in with flowers. He's grin/smirking unabashedly at your expression. There's a little bouquet in each hand, and he holds one out to each of you with a simple "Happy Valentine's Day".
Lilacs for Carly. The soft purple has a sweetening effect on her complexion when she holds them up to inhale the perfume scent.
Yellow tulips for you. They clash horribly with your hair and have an odd texture.
"Gee, thanks, Benson," you mutter, holding them as though they could be infested with worms. They probably are.
He chuckles lightly. "Ah, if only you cared that flowers have meanings, Puckett," he replies too smoothly.