The sensible silver sedan came to an abrupt halt in the parking space in front of the pharmacy, the sudden stop jerking both of the vehicle's occupants forward in a manner that could not have been good for the driver's migraine. "Ach, Milla," Sasha said as he put a hand out to prevent himself from smashing into the dashboard, "You nearly drove over the curve."
Milla did not turn to look at him, her head bowed and her long, dark hair obscuring her face. "Sorry, darling," she muttered as she sat back against the seat, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm still not feeling all that well."
Her voice was soft and strained, as though just saying the words caused her more pain. Sasha immediately regretted his admonishing tone. "Do you want me to drive?" he asked. He didn't particularly enjoy driving but he'd bear if it meant improving Milla's morning somewhat.
Milla turned her head slightly, her bleary eyes on him. "I want you to go in there and buy me some aspirin."
"Ah, yes." He hastily unbuckled his seat belt and opened the door. "I will be back momentarily," he assured her as he exited the car.
The pharmacy at this early hour was not crowded, manned only by an elderly woman busily pushing a cleaning cart up and down the aisles and a young fellow who seemed to asleep on his feet at the register. As he wandered through the store, on the lookout for the aisle that stocked the over-the-counter medications (why did every single one of these pharmacies have a different layout? They were all part of the same chain) he could not help but note that the décor left much to be desired. Red and pink cardboard hearts hung from the ceiling, swinging lazily on their strings, some of them looking as though they might fall at any second. Red cloth lined the shelves of a few select aisles, the products stacked on them consisting of fake flowers, boxed chocolates, and little stuffed bears. Big cardboard displays advertising low-end candies stood near every aisle, one even obnoxiously blocking his way.
The reason for these odd decorative choices did not occur to him until he was standing in front of the aspirin. Oh, it's Valentine's Day, he recalled as one of the cardboard hearts near him fell and fluttered to the ground. He immediately put the thought out of his head, focusing all of his attention on deciding which brand of aspirin to purchase. The generic one was cheaper, and had it been his own headache he was trying to alleviate he would have grabbed that without hesitation. But since he was shopping on Milla's behalf, he grudgingly took the smallest bottle of extra-strength Excedrin available, mildly outraged at the fact that this tiny bottle cost three dollars more than the generic brand despite containing fewer pills.
It was only after exiting the medication aisle that the idea of actually acknowledging the holiday occurred to him. Valentine's Day was not something he or Milla celebrated, as more often than not they were too busy with their missions to waste time with it. Sasha, for his part, had difficulty remembering real holidays, let alone these fake ones, and saw little reason why he should be forced to be more romantic towards his partner than usual just because it happened to be the fourteenth of February.
The circumstances were a little different on this particular Valentine's Day. They'd just finished up a rather difficult, high-stakes mission, one that had climaxed in a shoot-out that had pit he and Milla against six mercenaries, all of them cranked up on high doses of illegally-obtained psitanium. They'd emerged from the battle mostly unscathed, but the psychic effort had left Milla (who had done an excellent job of shielding him as he sniped at their assailants) with a splitting headache that had plagued her since the mission's end four hours ago. Sasha thought that, though he did not like the holiday, surprising Milla with a gift lift her spirits up just a tad.
With that thought in mind, Sasha made his way over to the garish shelf with all of the chocolate on it. The shelf was only half-full at this point, most of the boxes small, as the bigger ones had presumably already been picked up by people who cared enough about Valentine's Day to purchase their gifts ahead of time. That was fine by Sasha, as the smaller boxes were cheaper and it wasn't like Milla was going to eat a giant box of chocolate on her own anyway. He grabbed some chocolate-covered cherries (Seven dollars? There were only six in there) and then began making his way over to the check-out. I should probably get her a card, he thought, remembering how she liked to display the various cards she received from friends and family on her mantle. He turned around and headed over to the greeting cards positioned at the back corner of the store.
The Valentine's Day cards were even more picked over than the chocolates. All of them were so…ugly, their bright red and pink designs looking childish and tacky. Sasha could barely look at them for longer than three seconds without cringing. He took the only one that didn't use Comic Sans as a font, a pink one that had glittery, silver flowers on it, and made his way over to the register without reading it.
The cashier came awake as he walked up, giving Sasha a sleepy smile. "' sup bro," he said as Sasha placed his items on the counter, his eyes remaining closed as he spoke.
"Good morning," Sasha replied, hoping that the cashier's sleepy state would prevent him from making extensive small talk.
The cashier didn't even open his eyes as he scanned the items placed before him, a feat that Sasha couldn't help but regard as impressive. "Oh, dude," he asked, pointing at the card. "You need an envelope for that?"
"I do not require one," Sasha answered tersely, not wanting to linger at the check-out any longer than was necessary. "She is waiting for me in the car."
"Nice." The cashier (whose name-badge read 'Cash'- what a ridiculous name) waggled his eyebrows salaciously, which just looked bizarre with his eyes closed. "That'll be 28.99."
Sasha frowned, adding the prices of the chocolate and the aspirin together, accounting for the sales tax. "That card cost eight dollars?"
"Heh, yeah," Cash the Cashier said as he carefully put all of the items into a bag. "Things we do for love, bro."
"Are you sure that's the correct price?" Sasha asked, strongly debating whether or not he should use telepathy to see if the cashier was being truthful. "How would you even know? Your eyes are closed."
"Cash knows what he's doing." Behind him the old lady had snuck up with her cart in a manner that the assassins that the Psychonauts definitely did not employ would have envied. "Pay the man!" she ordered. Her hand was wrapped tightly around the handle of her mop, and her expression implied that she'd be mopping him up next if he stepped out of line.
Reluctantly, Sasha took his wallet out and handed the cashier his credit card. The cashier took it and then, with what seemed to be great effort on his part, pried his heavy eyelids open, looking down at the card with surprisingly clear blue eyes. "May I see I.D.?" he requested, flipping the card over. Sasha handed it to him. The cashier frowned, looking from one card to the other. "Aw, dude, I can't accept this," he said, holding the I.D. and the credit card up. "The names don't match."
That was indeed true- the name on the credit card read 'John Belgarde' and Sasha had mistakenly given the cashier a Maryland license that listed his name as 'Armand Lassier.' "Ah, pardon me," Sasha said as he took the I.D. back and replaced it with the correct one. "I meant to give you this one."
The cashier took it, scrutinized it for a moment, and then gave it back with a smile, satisfied that everything was now in order. "'s'all good, man," he said, his eyes closing as he swiped the card through the reader. The receipt printed, the cashier put it in the bag, and then gave the bag to Sasha with a 'have a nice day!' before promptly falling back into a slumber.
"Yes. You too," Sasha replied as he gathered his belongings, sparing the old lady a quick nod before hurrying out of the pharmacy.
When he returned to the car he found Milla resting her head against the cool glass of the window. "Here you go," he said, dumping the entire bag unceremoniously onto her lap as he settled into the passenger's seat.
Milla reached into the bag, a look of confusion falling upon her face as she pulled out the chocolates. "This isn't aspirin," she said.
"There's aspirin in there," Sasha said as he buckled his seat belt. "It's Valentine's Day," he added as an afterthought.
Milla gave a wordless hum as she dug through the bag, more interested in soothing her headache than in the other items he had purchased. It was not until after she had taken two of the pills and washed them down with a sip of water that she said "It's Valentine's Day?"
Sasha nodded solemnly. "It is indeed."
"I forgot, baby," Milla said as she examine the box of chocolates. "I'm sorry."
Sasha shrugged, neither surprised nor bothered. "I only remembered it because the store's hideous décor reminded me," he admitted.
"I'll make it up to you, darling, I promise," Milla said, and Sasha had little doubt that she would make good on that once they got back home. "You even got my favorite! I love chocolate-covered cherries!"
She smiled at him so sweetly, her expression still edged with pain, that Sasha had to look away. "I thought that it would make you feel marginally better," he said, the faintest bit of heat rising up the back of his neck. He decided not to mention that the chocolates had been picked up by chance, rather than out of any intention on his part. "Although, I do not believe that candy will do your headache any good."
"I'm still going to eat them," she said as she set the candy onto the cup holder. "Thank you!" She reached over and put her hand on his knee, her touch sending a warm pulse rocketing up his leg as she squeezed. "I really appreciate it." She took her hand away and Sasha felt the loss of it immediately, and he hoped that he would experience more of it once they returned to headquarters. "Oh, you even got me a card!" she said excitedly as she pulled it out of the bag. "You've never gotten me a card before!"
"I haven't?" Sasha thought back to all of the other holidays that he had spent with her and realized that she was right. Well, the card is the least important part of the gift anyway, Sasha justified to himself. If I want to express a sentiment to her, I don't need a piece of cardboard to do that.
Milla read the front of the card, her expression morphing from delighted to puzzled. Sasha wasn't sure why- he hadn't read the card while in the store and his eyesight was too poor to decipher the white, cursive lettering from where he sat. If that card has an offensive message on it, I will march right back into the store and get my eight dollars back, he swore as Milla flipped it open.
A high pitched sound that could have been a cry of horror or a shriek of laughter escaped Milla's throat as she read the card. "Oh, dear," she said, her voice shaking with an emotion that Sasha could not identify. "Sasha, honey…" she trailed off, as though she had some bad news that she was uncertain of how to break to him. "Did you, ah-" She cut herself off with a laugh, quickly regaining control of herself. "I don't think you meant to buy this."
Frowning, Sasha took the card from Milla and felt the blood drain from his face as he read what was printed within it. In bold, cursive lettering, the words 'Happy Mother's Day' stood out against the stark, white background.