Title: Listen Ad Cor Tuum
Rating: This chapter? PG
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: romance, humor, drama, general.'
Wordcount: 10,755
Warnings: None in this chapter.
Summary: When Havoc stops in to buy flowers for a woman he likes, he gets more than he bargained for. But can he step up and make the right choice? HavocxOC
Disclaimer: I don't own ANY of the Fullmetal Alchemist characters. They belong to the great Hiromu Arakawa. I do own Bridget, and all the other random people popping in.
It had been a long day at the office and the man was ready to leave. His neck ached and his stomach was chiding him that it was close to supper time and no food was in sight. Heaving a sigh, Jean Havoc tossed down his pen and stood. Glancing at the clock, he winced. Was it really only five-thirty? It had felt so much later than that. Looking around, he realized that the office had emptied around him save for the Colonel in his own little office talking to Fullmetal. Stretching like a lean cat he grabbed his jacket, lit the smoke that had been resting peacefully between his lips and made his way out the door.
The halls were barren, no one was in the building unless they were tucked away in their own worlds of work. Padding down the hall almost as quiet as a spring breeze, he let his mind wander away from work. He still had to stop and get a gift for Sasha, and dinner before heading home to his tiny apartment. A smile crept across his face. Sasha, beautiful, soft Sasha. Shaking his head, he opened the main door and stepped out. The sun was teasing the horizon, throwing a multitude of colors onto the buildings. Pausing to look around the slowly emptying street, the tall man exhaled a gray cloud of smoke. Figures danced in it slowly, lazily upward and blue eyes tried to pick out other shapes. Sighing, Havoc continued down the street to the tiny flower shop that had just opened the week before. A friend of his had sworn that one of the workers grew the best roses and that he should check it them out.
A small smile graced his features as he thought of the woman he was going to give them to. They had met at the café three days earlier and made a habit of getting coffee in the morning together. She had long black hair she loved to pulled back in a red ribbon; her skin was as pale as a full moon, and he wanted the roses to match the beautiful shade of her red lips. But he had been captured by her eyes, the snapping blue always flirtatious. Slowing, he thought back to the day he had met her.
iIt was a warm, sunny day and only seven in the morning. Groaning, he glared back up at the sun, wishing it would just go away. His head was pounding and he was running late. Checking the clock behind the coffee shop's counter, he resisted the urge to cry. Why was this taking so long? He briefly considered skipping the coffee and just making a mad dash to the office, but his head was snarling at him that it would die if he did.
Fidgeting in place, he chewed lightly on the cigarette resting between his lips. Pulling out his lighter, he flicked it open and light it. A woman turned around to glare at him. "Either put that out or get out." She spat, nose wrinkled.
"Excuse me?"
"Sir, please, there's no smoking in here. I'll have to ask you to leave." The girl behind the counter said, pointing to a sign.
"Are you kid…fine fine. Sorry." He muttered, stomping out. Exhaling a stormy cloud, he started to walk towards his office building.
"Hey, hold up a second." The voice was soft, smooth and feminine. Havoc slowly turned. A woman stood behind him, a smile on her full lips. "Here, you forgot this." She said, offering him one cup.
"Thank you Miss…?"
"Sasha. And it's no trouble, looks like you need it." She said, stepping up beside him. "What's your name stranger?" She asked.
"Havoc…Jean Havoc."
"Pretty good name. Sounds like you'd be a lot of trouble." She teased, winking. "Well, I will talk to you tomorrow I hope Trouble." With that, she turned and walked away./i
A smile drifted over his features as he walked. But he was jerked out of his reprieve by a child running in front of him to catch up with his parents up the road. Shaking his head to clear it of day dreams, he looked around. The shop was just across the street from him and he darted like a wild animal across the pavement. Reaching it, he looked it over. Faded white paint, blue shutters and a hand painted sign declaring it Tesson Floral. A medium array of bouquets were arranged in the window, lilies, roses, daisies and a few others he couldn't name. Walking in, a soft chime drifted into the store from the bell hanging on the door.
The scent was heady, but not overwhelming. Looking around, he spotted a wall of roses. White, red, pink, multi-hued, yellow, and even the rare blue and a few greens, oranges and three solemn black ones for funerals. All were in different stages of bloom, from large full blossoms the size of his hand, to small and delicate little buds no bigger than a baby's smile. His friend had been right, the one who grew these clearly showed a love for them.
"May I help you?" A voice asked from behind him. Turning, Havoc smiled.
"Can I get a dozen of the best red roses?" He asked the girl standing behind him. Her eyes swept over him, and she smiled.
"For a lover?" She asked, stepping forward and studying the flowers.
"Well…I haven't asked her out yet. We just met a few days ago at a café and I rather liked what I saw." He replied sheepishly.
She turned and faced him. "Then don't get roses. Switch it up and make her see you have a unique side. Try and stand out to her." She suggested. Havoc raised an eyebrow.
"Are you sure? I kinda wanted to get something to match her beauty, and..well I had hoped that roses would do." He smiled at the girl. She laughed and shook her head.
"A good rose like these need a caring owner, not one who's to vain to see their beauty if compared to their own. Flowers have a small soul too." A soft smile lit her face as she talked, hand brushing the soft petals.
"You seem to know a lot about flowers, so I'm going to trust you. Are you the owner?"
"Nope, just the new worker here. But I hope to have my own shop some day. And thank you Sir. Your compliments mean a lot to me."
Pale eyebrows drew together in confusion as she spoke. "May I ask what you mean?"
"It's not often people tell me my roses equal the beauty of the one they like." She laughed, walking away. "Come on, I know just the flower for you." Stopping, she gestured to the daffodils. "Get a few of these instead." She suggested. "A few of the snowy white mixed with the butter yellow ones and you're good to go." Selecting a few, she arranged them with a few other smaller flowers and a small cluster of fake berries. "There, hopefully these will work for you." Tying it off with a red ribbon, she handed them to him with a wink. "If not, then I'll give you the roses for free."
"Well, thank you so much. How much do I owe for these?"
The girl lead him to the cash register. For a moment it was quiet, and a soft melody drifted to his ears from the back. Swaying to the beat as she rang him up, Havoc found himself watching the young woman. "How old are you?" The question slipped from his mouth before he could stop it.
She looked down at the money and counted his change as she replied. "Eighteen. You?"
"Twenty-eight." He replied, confused by a tiny bubble of hope that had appeared in him. "Name?" He asked, taking both change and flowers.
"Bridget, Bridget Hawthorn."
"Jean, Jean Havoc."
"Well Havoc, thanks for stopping in. Come back and let me know how it goes?" She asked him, walking him to the door.
"Sure, I'll let you know tomorrow." Opening the door, he paused, something causing him to look back and study the young woman as she made her way back to the counter to sort a few bouquets out she had been working on.
Why was he so drawn to her? Shaking the feeling off he made his way home, hoping his luck would hold. It had been a while since he had actually managed to have a girlfriend. They always found a reason not to stick around once they found out he was in the military, or some other rather bad excuse. There were even a few nightmarish times where he had been the other man in a relationship and hadn't known it. Face falling, he made it to his building and up the winding staircase.
Looking around the place he wrinkled his nose. He really needed to get a home of his own. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, he just hated the thought of an open space that was empty. At least with this tiny apartment he felt slightly at peace.
Unlocking the door he kicked his shoes off as he stepped in. It wasn't much, but it worked for him. The tiny kitchen that was off in a small corner of the living room held a miniature Formica table that was chipped and falling apart with four mismatched chairs around it. The fridge had come with the place and was an ugly shade of what, he could only assume, was teal, as well as the other appliances. They clashed with what were once white walls, but had yellowed with smoke and age. The living room was cluttered with books, empty food containers, random bits of clothing and other odds and ends. The TV was diminutive and standing on a TV tray. The curtains were ugly beige and covered a dirty, dusty window. Down a small hall was a microscopic bathroom. It held only a standing shower and a toilet so close to it the person using it almost lost their knees sitting down. The sink was tucked away behind the door and the mirror that was living above it was broken in half and was hanging on by a wing and a prayer. Across the hall was his room. The only thing that he really cared about it in was a bed set in white. It had been given to him by a good friend he had lost a few years back.
The friend had made it himself as a gift. It was solid white oak sapwood and was carved into with a spiraling design that when studied made a forest of ivy and berries. The footboard held the same pattern and was topped by small knobs that had a golden ring around the bottom where they attached.
Paintings hung around the walls, mostly of forests and various other landscapes. On the bedside table that had came with the bed was a glass of water, an ash tray, alarm clock and a lamp. Opposite of the table was his closet. Only a few scant casual clothes hung there with his uniforms and two dressier outfits. His dresser had a different pattern of leaves, forming a face on one side of wolf. In it was his boxers, socks, books and a few odds and ends.
Padding almost silently down the hall he made his way into his bedroom to grab a clean t-shirt in charcoal gray and clean boxers in black. Pausing to grab a towel out of the hall closet he made his way into the bathroom to take a hot shower. Turning the water on, he let it warm up as he undressed, mind absently wandering over the day.
Stepping under the warm spray, he closed his eyes and let it pound down on him. Muscles relaxed as he let the day wash down the drain in a slow spiral. Opening his eyes, he let his mind wander to Sasha. A smile crossed his face at the thought of her, and he shook it away. Grabbing his shampoo, he started to clean himself off to get to bed at a decent time. As he washed off, the thoughts came back unbidden. But as he replayed the way she walked, the memory changed. Like a soft out of focus movie, it took a second to slowly settle into a flower shop. Bridget was leading him to the cash register, her hair escaping it's braid.
Jolting out of his thoughts he quickly finished his shower. What was wrong with him? Here he was having a gorgeous woman fall into his lap and he was thinking of the flower shop girl. Resisting the urge to punch himself he quickly dressed and snapped the lights out. Even in the dark it was easy to find his way to the big bed. Flopping down on it, he curled up under the tan colored, thick suede blanket. Tossing the spare pillows to the floor, he closed his eyes and tried to calm his mind.
It seemed impossible, and he reached over to snap on the alarm clock. Soft country music floated out and he let it wrap around him. Double checking that the thing had been set and really would go off right this time, he lay back down. Slowly his body became lax, and he was drifting off. His dreams were cloudy, confusing and he woke up continually through the night. It was like his mind was a playground of chaos.
By the time dawn broke, Havoc had given up on sleep and was getting ready for work. As he scrubbed his face in cold water, he half debated not going into the office. Just as fast as he thought it, he shoved the thought from his mind. There was no way Hawkeye was going to let him off easily. He'd really have to be sick to not go in, and even then she would make him visit the on base doctor. Shuddering at the thought, he quickly finished getting ready. Stepping into his hall, he took a deep breath and slowly let it out, with the wish that Sasha would be at the café that morning. Meandering into the kitchen, he took the flowers Bridget had picked out for him from the glass he had them in overnight. Checking to make sure no water was dripping all over, he left his apartment.
The streets were slowly filling up as he made his way up town towards Central Command. Parents with their kids on the way to school and work, shop owners starting their days, and other Military members were appearing. But he ignored them, searching for one person in particular. Reaching the café, he darted into the small line. Ordering his favorite drink, he meandered outside to the tables to wait.
While he watched the people pass by, his tired eyes started to drift close and his head started to nod. Just as he was almost asleep, a light voice was snapping him out of his doze. "A medium vanilla frappaccino, please." Blue eyes darted to the counter, watching the girl through the open door. Her hair was in a braid once more, falling to just above the middle of the back, tied off with the same orange ribbon he had seen the day before.
Wrapped around one wrist was an orange leash, leading down to a Border Collie. The collar matched in color, with a delicate silver bell in place of a dog tag. Havoc found himself standing as she received her coffee and turned to leave. "Come on Belle, come on girl." She said, walking out.
"Bri…"
"Hey Trouble." The voice came from behind him, and he paused just as Bridget had started to smile at him. Turning away from her, he smiled at Sasha.
"Hello yourself." He replied, watching the woman. Walking over, he blushed faintly. "Here, I hope you like them." Offering her the flowers, he waited.
"Oh Havoc, they're beautiful!" She exclaimed, smelling them.
"Glad you like them. I had a bit of help picking them out." He admitted, glancing over slightly to watch Bridget's reaction. A small prick of hurt hit him when he saw the girl had her back to him at a table across the outdoor dining area. Her dog was laying at her feet, watching people pass as her owner read.
"Oh? Well whoever it was they did a great job. I love them Havoc, thank you. Now then, I see you have your coffee this morning. Shall I grab mine and walk with you to work?" She asked, a coy smile playing on her features. He nodded, smiling back.
"Let me buy you a cup of coffee. What kind do you like?"
"Mocha anything." She replied, sniffing her bouquet once more. "I'll wait here for you."
Turning, he made his way back into the steadily growing line. He chewed gently on the cigarette, steady gaze wandering around to the people in the shop. Most appeared to be busy office workers, checking watches and sighing a lot. Some were just groups of friends spending time together, while others were just there to do as he was doing now and people watching. His glance landed on Bridget as the girl stood up and tucked her book under her arm. The dog rose as well, falling in beside her owner. Something inside of him wanted to call out, tell her to wait and he'd walk with her. But the rational part of him reminded him that Sasha was waiting.
Getting her the drink, he meandered back outside. She stood waiting for him by the sidewalk, purse slung over one shoulder. "So, flowers and coffee. Must have been my lucky day when I met you Trouble." She joked, accepting the drink.
"Or mine. We can decide that later though. Maybe over dinner tonight? You pick, I buy." He offered her. Her smile widened.
"Sounds good to me. How about Lilly's Steakhouse and you pick me up at my place around seven?"
"It's a date."
"As long as you promise not to wear the uniform I think you live in." She teased him. Havoc smirked.
"Sorry but it's a part of me."
"Mmm…we'll see about that."
Reaching Central Command, she gave him her address and a kiss on the cheek. "See you tonight Trouble." Sauntering off down the street, Havoc felt a bubble of pride well up in him as a few men turned to look at her. He had done it, asked her out without hesitation.
Sauntering into the office whistling a merry tune, he grinned at Breda. "Guess what."
The shorter man looked up at him from the papers he was filling out. "You finally quit smoking?" He joked. Havoc laughed and shook his head, pointing to the smoke in his lips.
"Uh, no."
"Finally moved?"
"I wish."
"Got laid?"
"I will tonight."
Breda let out a whoop and leapt up to slap his best friend a high five. "It's about damn time man!" He laughed, shaking him. "How long's it been? A year?" He teased.
"Hey, at least I'm getting some."
"Yeow man, keep the claws in for now." As the two joked around and talked, Hawkeye walked in.
"I hope that you're cheering because you're work is done." She said simply, walking by them towards Mustang's office. Freezing the two stared at each other. In a flurry of arms and legs, the two almost broke their necks trying to scramble away from each other to their desks.
From inside the office, Ed laughed as he watched the two from his perch on the edge of Mustang's desk. "Looks like Havoc finally is going to try again." He said, turning to face his two superior officers. Hawkeye hummed in reply.
"As long as it doesn't affect his work." She stated simply.
"Let the man have a bit of joy. It's good to have someone beside you after a long period of loneliness." Mustang said, smiling at Ed. The golden haired young man blushed and shot the smile back at him.
"Roy has a point." He added, looking to the sever blonde woman. She cracked and smiled a tiny bit.
"I'm just glad that both of you finally realized it." She teased faintly.
"True. Now then, about the mission. The targets are suppose to move out in a week according to my sources. We need to be there to infiltrate them and take possession of the weapons they are carrying. The mission calls for trying to bring them back alive for questioning but if it comes to it, protect yourself." Mustang began explaining. "I'm going to need everyone for this mission, mainly due to the fact they have multiple rouge alchemists with them. I will give everyone a folder detailing the mission at the end of the day. For now that's all. Just go about the day and do what you need to be done." With that, he dismissed them. Hawkeye left the room, while Ed remained.
As she made her way to her desk, Hawkeye glanced over at the two men working close together. Breda was whispering quickly under his breath while Havoc would occasionally shake or nod his head. Rolling her eyes, the woman got back to work and didn't say anything.
The day passed in a blur as Havoc got his work done, excitement flooding his veins. But the excitement quickly vanished as Ed handed him a manila envelope.
"Read it at home, let no one see it." Was all the younger male said, walking away.
Clenching his teeth and resisting the urge to rip it, Havoc stood and made his way out of the office. Ignoring everything around him, he didn't even realize where his feet were carrying him. It felt like a ton of bricks were in his body, slowing him down. These missions were never good, and were always deadly. It had taken him almost a month to get over the last one and to stop waking up from nightmares. This was just his luck, and he hated it.
Just when he found someone to be with and he was having to leave for who knew how long. Shrugging it off, he slowed to a halt, looking up at where he was. A smile crossed his face as he entered the shop. The chime was soft, alerting her to his presence. Face lighting up faintly, she waved to him from where she was perched on the counter.
"Hello Havoc." She greeted, waving. A deck of well worn cards were next to her, and the dog from the morning was at her feet.
"Hey Bridget. How's your day going?" Something about the place was calming him, making him feel better. Darting over wagging her tail, the dog sniffed him. The young woman shrugged, wrinkling her nose faintly and he couldn't help but think of how cute it looked.
"Boring. I've only had a few customers stop in. But tomorrow's going to be horrible, so I'm happy with the boring. Belle live him alone." She scolded.
"Why horrible? And I don't mind." He found himself asking, walking over and leaning on the counter next to her. Belle followed closely, and he patted her head.
"A wedding party called in last week. Well the first time they came in on Monday, the bride kept changing her mind. Well I ifinally/i talked her into what would be the best flowers. Well today she called back and wants to come in and try finding flowers for her Maid of Honor and some to give to both of their parents. So naturally I assume this is going to take forever like it did last time. I love to help others, but don't care much for when my advice goes in one ear and out the other." She explained, gesturing around as she talked.
"I'd just throw a bouquet at her and be like "here, get out." And be done with it. Or have what you think would be perfect already ready." He suggested. She laughed, and he felt a tug somewhere deep inside of him at the noise. What was wrong with him? Was lunch suddenly trying to make a comeback?
"You know, I may just do that. Have the flowers ready and laid out of the best choices so she's not totally terrorizing this place. Thanks."
"It's what I'm good at."
"Well, you may be good at that, but I want to know if I'm good at helping others score dates." She said, wagging her eyebrows.
He blushed a bit, looking down and pretending to be absorbed in petting Belle. "Amazing at it. Thanks. But it looks like I won't be getting those free roses after all." He joked, looking back up to meet her clear gaze. "Oh well, I'm happy with what I got."
"Any time. So, how long do you have till the big date?"
"A while. All I gotta do is just get changed and pick her up."
"Mmm, I see. Want some tea? My Grams just sent me some of her homemade packets and I think you may like some." She offered.
"Sounds good to me."
"Milk or sugar?"
"Both."
"So I'm not alone in that. Grams always teased me about that." She cheered, doing a small triumphant pose. Havoc laughed and shook his head at her. He watched her like a hawk as she meandered into the back room. As she vanished behind the curtain, he turned his attention to the pack of cards. They were worn, ragged, obviously loved. Picking them up, he looked them over. Just a simple deck, nothing special.
"They were my Grams. She gave them to me when she left." Startled, Havoc jumped. Giggling, she set the tray down on the counter. "She taught me a few tricks with them as well. And more games than I can play." Bending over, she set a bowl of cream down for Belle. Stroking the silky fur, she smiled. "I miss her, and my Aunt."
"What happened to them?" He asked, voice soft.
"Nothing. I moved here to save up money to open my own flower shop back home. But we're so close that I miss them."
"Oh. What can you do with them?" He asked, intrigued. A roguish grin appeared on her face.
"Tell you your fortune." Reaching out, she took them from him. Their fingers brushed and a shock went though him.
"Really now? Well let's see."
She closed her eyes, shuffling the cards, humming along with the music drifting from the back. It was always classical he noted, always soft and calm, like the girl herself. Opening her eyes, she drew three cards and placed them face down. "The first represents the past, the second shows the situation in the present, and the third reveals the outcome, or future of the matter. Turn them over."
He turned each one over, suddenly nervous as to whether she was joking or not.
"The Eight of Spades, temptation, misfortune, danger, upsets. You had a hard past. The next one, your current situation is the Two of Spades…odd…" She paused, staring at the spread.
"Tell me. Why's it odd?"
"You're turning mostly Spades, as you see. They aren't the best cards obviously. The Two means breaks in relationships; deceit. A break in an important process in the querent's life. If the question concerns a particular romantic interest, this is considered a warning card - infidelity or separation is quite likely. In simple terms, you're being lied to by someone and you're going to be hurt by it. Most likely someone you have come to like." She explained, eyebrows knit together in confusion. "But your third card, or what the outcome will be is a Heart. The Three of Hearts means love and happiness when the entire spread is generally favorable. In a difficult spread, this can indicate emotional problems and an inability to decide who to love. Since it's with harder cards, it means you're going to be torn between two people." She concluded, looking at him.
Staring down at the cards, he didn't know what to think. It wasn't like he believed in that type of thing, so why was he suddenly worried?
Sweeping them up, she put the cards back into a small box by the tea tray. "That's enough for now. Here, before it gets cold."
Taking the tea, he sniffed it. "What is it?"
"Chamomile and a few other herbs for calming. I figured it would help with your nerves." She sipped her own watching him.
"Thank you. I think I need it."
"Me too." They laughed, and he felt the same bubble as before. Blaming it on the tea, he tried to just ignore it. "I guess you have to leave now?" She asked him, watching him over the rim of her cup.
He glanced at the clock and sighed. "Yeah. Thank you for everything. I really mean it."
She waved him off. "Just make sure to stop by every now and then. Get's lonely with only Belle to talk to." The dog lifted her head at hearing her name, tail wagging.
"You don't have to worry about that. We'll be seeing more of each other, trust me."
Walking him to the door she opened it and smiled at him. "Have fun tonight. And don't do anything to crazy." She teased, winking at him.
"I'll try not to." He replied, smirking. A longing to brush the stay bang out of her face rose up inside of him, and he questioned what the hell he was doing. But he couldn't bring himself to really think it.
"Good-bye Havoc." She said, voice soft.
"Jean...call me Jean, please." He found himself whispering. Brilliant hazel eyes snapped up to meet his clear blue ones. His heart skipped a few paces and she felt her face warm.
"Stay safe...Jean..." Hearing his name off of her lips had him restraining himself from doing something stupid.
"I will, goodnight Bridget." With that, he walked out into the street, lit his smoke and made his way home.
The entire time he walked, he tried to sort out just what was going on. Whatever it was, he had to make up his mind. This situation could get bad, fast. Giving himself a shake like a leaf on a windblown tree, he came up with an idea.
Quickening his pace, he was almost running to his apartment. He took the stairs two at a time, and almost broke his door down in his haste to open it. Grabbing the notebook and pen he usually kept for his grocery list, he opened it to a new page.
At the top, he wrote two names and paused. This was so stupid, was he really going to figure it out like this? Mentally he slapped himself and tossed the notebook away. Crushing out the cancer stick, he snorted. He wasn't a child, and he was going to stick with what he had. Rising, he went to his room to start getting ready.
She had watched him leave, face heating up as she did. When he had turned the corner, Bridget shut the door and sank to the floor. Belle loped over, head low and let out a small whine. "Oh Belle, what just happened?" She groaned, head resting against the door. The dog gave a brief bark. "I know, I know." Standing, she brushed dust off of her pants. The tone of his voice, almost pleading with her to say his name had left her feeling like she had over exerted herself.
Why had he asked it? What was going on suddenly? Lifting the tea cups and Belle's bowl, she set them on the tray and carried it to the back room. It was a cozy kitchen, complete with oven and fridge for her lunch. The walls were a bright sea blue, and the curtains were a pale cream. The cupboards were wood, and the appliances white, giving the place an open, spacious feeling. Sunlight was filtering in from the setting sun and rested upon her as she set the dirty dishes to wash them.
As she ran water, she thought back to the small jolt she had gotten when their hands had brushed. It was nothing, and it meant nothing. She wasn't going to just give her heart away to the first man who showed her a bit of attention. It wasn't the first time one had paid attention to her. Besides, he had a lover thanks to her help. "That's it Belle. I'm not going to jump to conclusions. This will play out the way it's supposed to and I'm just going to let it." She said aloud. Belle simply yawned in reply. Shutting off the water, she began to wash the dishes, humming along with the radio that stood sentry next to the cookie jar. It had been a gift from her boss, Ashley Tesson.
The woman had known Bridget since she was born, and knew the love she had for music. When she had chosen to move to the city to work for them, the woman had happily gotten her it. Every day, she would change it to a different type of music. But mostly she stuck to the gentle country and classical songs that she had always adored.
Finishing the dishes, Bridget made her way back out front to close up for the day. Belle remained in the back room while she swept and shut it all down. She didn't hurry, knowing she was just going back to an empty home. The Tesson's had been kind enough to let her stay in a home they usually rented out, but it was so big and quiet. Finally she couldn't dally around anymore and she whistled for Belle. The dog padded out of the kitchen, fluffy tail wagging. "Come on girl, let's head for home. Want to stop for some ice cream?" She asked her, ruffling the black and white head.
The dog danced around her, and she laughed. "Sit still you little mongrel. I can't get your leash on you!" Clipping it on, she let Belle lead her out. Locking it behind her, she started down the street towards the small ice cream shop she had found the week prior. It was a small family owned place, and they made the best chocolate ice cream she had ever tasted. Belle tugged at the leash and she snorted. "You know, you aren't going to make me go faster just because you think you're boss." She teased.
Reaching the parlour, she opened the door. The sweet smell of toppings tickled her nose like a feather and she licked her lips. "Hello! How can I help you?" The boy behind the counter asked. He couldn't have been much older than she was, with pale blonde hair and snapping green eyes.
"One chocolate cone and a small bowl of vanilla please." She ordered. He looked down at Belle.
"Beautiful dog. How about a treat on top of that girl?" He asked, smiling. Bridget smiled.
"I think she'd love that. Thank you so much."
"No problem. I'll get you your ice cream if you want to sit down." He offered, gesturing to a few booths. Walking over to one, she watched him. He had been the same boy who had helped her the week prior, so sweet and funny. He was a few inches taller than she was, but shorter than Havoc. Bridget frowned at the thought and ignored it.
The boy walked over, handing her the ice cream. "Mind if I sit?" He asked her. She nodded.
"Go ahead, I don't mind."
"What's her name?"
"Belle."
"And yours?" He asked, blushing faintly at being so outright.
"Bridget...what's your name?"
"Josh. It's nice to meet you." He offered her his hand. Taking it, she gave it a firm shake. "Wow, don't most girls have a dainty shake?" He teased her. Laughing, she shrugged.
"I was raised on a farm, so we judge by them."
"Oh, so I fail?"
She laughed harder. "I never said that. You passed." Licking her cone, she watched as Belle licked at the small bowl in front of her. She had picked out the bone and was saving it, almost like a child would it's dessert. She rolled her eyes and smiled.
"So, how long have you lived in Central?" He asked. Counting backwards, she paused a moment.
"Almost a month and a half. But I just started working at the local flower shop about a month ago."
"The one up the street near Molly's Grill?" He asked. She nodded.
"The very one. It's a friend of my family's." She explained.
"Ahh, my parents own this place. It belonged to an old family friend as well, but they retired a few years ago. I like it, lets me meet new people." He said, leaning back.
"I love the flower shop for so many reasons. Mostly because I'm doing what I love."
"Working with flowers?"
"Exactly. But I do love to meet the people that come in. Everyone is so different, and it's a fun challenge to try and give them just the perfect thing. But I always seem to manage." Bridget explained, a happy smile crossing her face. It was so nice to talk to someone like this, and it was hard to believe she didn't get to much. She blushed faintly. "I'm boring you, aren't I?" She asked.
As Josh opened his mouth to reply, a group of people came in. "Please, don't leave?" He asked her.
"I won't." She promised. He darted back to the counter, and while he worked, she ate her ice cream. He seemed so at ease with people while he worked, smiling and talking to everyone as they ordered. Finishing her cone, she picked up Belle's empty bowl as the dog tried to get a little boy to play with her. Bridget watched, lips quirking up in a little smile. She adored children, thinking them so sweet.
"Looks like she's made a friend." Josh commented, coming up. The boy giggled and clapped.
"Indeed she did. And such a cute one too!" She cooed, wrinkling her nose tenderly at the boy. He laughed and ran over to his mother.
"Well it's good to know you aren't the only one that has."
She turned to face him. "Yes it is." He chuckled, and took the dish from her.
"Need anything else?"
"No thanks. How much?"
He waved his hand. "My treat tonight on one condition."
"What's that?"
"Come back tomorrow please?" He asked her.
Taken aback, Bridget stared at him. "Sure…I can after I close the shop."
"Good. Speaking of closing up, I better get cracking on that before Mom comes down and kills me." He joked. Shifting out of the booth, he patted Belle one more time. "Such a pretty girl you are."
"Thank you again Josh." Bridget said, walking to the door. He opened it for her, stepping out of the way.
"Anytime."
Making her way out, she blushed furiously. What was wrong with her? What the hell had that all be about? Sure he was cute, not as handsome as Havoc; and he was sweet, maybe more so than...she cut the thought short. What the hell was she doing. Why was she comparing him to Havoc? A handsome, tall, itaken/i, older man. Giving herself a furious telling off, she let Belle lead them home.
When they reached the two story Victorian house she smiled. It was cute, but much too big for just one person and a dog. It was a creamy white with emerald shutters and trimming. The porch was screened in, and held white wicker furniture for her and a guest to relax on. The door was the same emerald as the shutters, with a brass knocker in the shape of a horse's head.
Unlocking it, she took the leash off of Belle and let her run free. The dog leapt over the threshold
and slide down the hardwood floors.
Snorting, her owner followed her in, dropping her keys into the bowl that rested on a small hall table. Kicking her shoes off, she padded silently into the kitchen. The Tesson's had modeled it after a country home kitchen, and she loved it. Taking down her favourite mug, she started a pot of water to boil. Glancing at the clock, she wandered how Havoc was doing. As soon as she thought it, she tried to forget it. It wasn't her concern and she shouldn't worry.
While she waited for her water, she made her way into the living room to grab the book her parents had sent her earlier that week. A sad smile graced her features as she read the letter written on the cover. Trying to ignore the small tear, she hugged it. She would see them soon, so there was no point in being sad. Besides, she was proud of them.
The screaming whistle scared her out of her musings as it tried to re-enact a scene from a horror novel. Darting back into the kitchen she snapped the flames off and poured the water over a tea bag. Looking around the kitchen, she opted to go back to her room to read.
Making her way down the long hallway she took slower steps to keep from spilling the scalding liquid down her wrist. She paid no mind to the paintings that hung on the cream walls. Reaching the spiralling stairs she paused, listening for Belle. The house was quiet, and she figured that she was up in the room already. Going up, she whistled when she made it to the second floor landing. Belle poked her head out of the bedroom, ears alert. "I thought so." She muttered.
Pausing in the doorway of her room, Bridget groaned. She really needed to clean up. Cloths were strewn all over as if her closet had waged war on the beautiful dark maple dresser, with neither of them winning. There were even some on the ornate frame of the mirror. Heaving a sigh, she knew her book would have to wait as she made her room look like it belong to a human and not some cyclone.
Grabbing all the clothes, she tossed them on to the queen sized canopy bed. It wouldn't do to just stuff them back in, she'd only screw them up once more in the morning if she couldn't find what she was looking for. Belle jumped up onto it, laying to the side of the pile.
"You know, you could help." She groused. Belle laid her ears back against her head, once more making her owner swear that she really knew what she was saying. Reaching over, she snapped on the bedside alarm. A country song she loved was just starting. Turning the volume up, she sang along thinking of how her Aunt had always teased her and said it was really her they were talking about.
Time passed quickly as she sang and cleaned, carefree and happy. As she closed the sliding door of her closet, she gave a triumphant laugh. "I win that war for now!" She exclaimed, shaking a fist at the mute dresser. It stood, sturdy and proud as she took her nightgown out of it. The orange fabric well worn and loved.
"Wait here Belle. I'm going to get ready for bed then I'll be back to read for a bit." Stepping into her adjacent bathroom, she set the water to warm as she stripped down. Pulling a thick, fluffy white towel out of the bathroom closet, she laid it on top of her nightgown within easy reach. Stepping under the spray, she tilted her head back eyes drifting closed, allowing the water to wash away the day. For a while, she just relaxed, mind not really settling on anything. Finally she started to wash off, lathering up her wash cloth with her favourite body wash. The scent of lilac filled the shower, clear and sweet. As she washed off, a thought that she had never had before crept into the edges of her mind. Hands that weren't her own were sliding over her body, strong and calloused, washing away the stress of life. As they reached her stomach, her eyes flew open. It was wrong, and the thoughts shouldn't even be there. Rushing through the rest of her shower, she darted out and grabbed the towel. Rubbing down furiously, she quickly dressed and made her way back into her room. Flopping down on the bed with a sigh, she crawled under her sheet. The white cotton was soft and comfortable, a great contrast to the almost black maple poster bed. She loved the bedroom set most of her home.
The headboard had a small farm scene carved on it, complete with animals and a woodland behind it. The footboard had a large house on it with a dog on the porch. The dresser only had ivy carved around the mirror, nothing else, and the bedside table was lacking design. Snagging her book off of it, she took a sip of the cooling tea and began to read.
She must have fallen asleep at some point in the story and awoke with a jerk caused by a nightmare. Groggily she tried to read the numbers on her alarm clock. Four-thirty-nine. Letting out a childish whine, she rolled over and tried to fall back asleep. But as she closed her eyes, the nightmare came slinking back, creeping at the edges of her consciousness and waiting. Shuddering, she cracked her eyes open, trying to lock onto good thoughts to occupy her. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to read horror novels before bed anymore.
Drifting off, her mind wandered to memories of home. She fell asleep smiling.
The alarm clock screaming itself horse at six had her shooting upright with a flail. Belle shot off the bed as her owner suddenly tumbled out trying to untangle herself. Letting out a moan and laying there, Bridget glared at the bed like it was at fault. It remained quiet and where it was.
"Damn it all." She growled, standing up and tossing the sheet back onto it. "Something tells me this won't be such a beautiful day already." Stomping into her bathroom she began to get ready for her day. It was as she was brushing her hair she remembered the woman coming in for her wedding party. Trying to keep from crying out of annoyance, she started planning on what would work from what she could remember of the woman and the other flowers.
Making her way down the stairs, she whistled for Belle. "Come on girl, we've got a lot to do before we open." Clipping the leash onto the collar, she opened the door for her pet to lead her out. While they made their way down the road, she toyed with the idea of stopping for coffee. A small part of her shied away from the idea. Sadness bubbled up slowly, like a pot spilling over when someone's back was turned. For the first time in a month, she took a new route to the shop.
Arriving at the shop she opened it almost two hours early. Looking around the quiet street, she knew it would be a bit before anyone came. Making her way into the back room, she started a kettle for tea and turned her radio on. Grabbing a notebook and a pen, she sat down to start listing ideas as to what flowers would suite the woman's picky tastes. She became lost in the combinations, only falling back into reality when the kettle began to scream it's agony of heat.
Pouring her tea, she made to settle back down when the bell chimed. Quickly flicking her gaze at the clock, she mused as to who would be already in for flowers when her usual time to open was still over an hour away. Poking her head out, she grinned.
"Well, I didn't I'd see you this soon." She teased, stepping out. Josh shot her a crooked smile.
"Well I was on my way to the shop and saw you were open early and I have a bit of time so I figured I'd say hello. What brings you in early?"
"A big order that I'm not looking forward to."
"I hate those. We do parties and there are times when parents change their minds a dozen times."
"This woman reached that first day." She giggled.
"Oh, well let's hope it gets better?" It was more of a question then a statement.
"Let's hope. However her tract record is rather poor."
"But you're clever, you can make her see." He pointed out. She blushed faintly, the light pink hue dusting her cheeks.
"Thank you." She muttered, looking down.
"Bridget, I have a question for you."
Looking up she met his gaze. "Yes?"
"Would you like to go on a date with me tonight?" As he asked the question, the chime of the bell had them turning around. Suddenly, she felt rooted to the spot.
"Sorry, seems I'm interrupting something. I'll just come back later." Havoc said, turning around.
"Jean wait! You don't have to leave." Bridget said, stepping forward.
"Nah, I just wanted to tell you how it went last night. But you're busy. I'll see you tonight." With that, he left. Swallowing hard, Bridget bit her lower lip.
"Bridget?"
"Yeah?"
"Come on, sit down. Can you tell me what that was about?" Josh asked, guiding her gently to the chair behind the counter.
"That was Havoc, a man I met a few days ago. He came in to buy flowers for a woman that he met that same day. I don't know. It's odd really. But it doesn't matter." She waved the problems away faintly.
"I see. Well there's nothing you can do but let it go the way it's supposed to go." He replied.
"You're right. It doesn't matter right now and I shouldn't worry. I have other things to think about. And as for your question, meet me on Cherry Street, seven ok with you?" She asked him, smiling.
Josh grinned happily. "Perfect. I'll see you then." Standing, he darted happily out the door.
Climbing happily to her feet, she fairly danced back into the back room to grab her list. "Well Belle, it looks like things may be changing for the better for me!" She exclaimed.
The dog yawned, and simply lay back in her beam of sunshine. "Well it's good to know you care." Bridget groused, rolling her eyes. Going back into the front of the store she began assembling the arrangements.
It was after noon before the woman flounced in. "Are the flowers ready?" She asked, looking around. Bridget ground her teeth, almost positive the woman could hear her.
"I have a few options set up for you to look through. I chose to go with this bright display of fresh daisy spray chrysanthemums, simply arranged with a few stalks of natural wheat and accent blossoms to start with. Then moving down we have this stylish contemporary arrangement includes yellow cushion spray chrysanthemums, bi-color orange roses, rust cushion spray chrysanthemums, yellow disbud chrysanthemum and yellow Viking spray chrysanthemums accented with assorted greenery. The final choice was sunny sunflowers, red roses and miniature carnations, bronze daisy spray chrysanthemums, large lavender monte casino asters and autumn greens are beautifully. I chose these colors primarily for the rustic feel of them that you asked for." She explained.
"Well…they are all ok. I rather like the first one…however the third one is really good as well. I think I'll will use the third choice for my Maid of Honor and the first one for the other bride's maids." She sniffed, staring down at them.
"Thank you, I rather liked those two as well."
"Yes, well I don't have time to keep searching. What about the roses for our parents?"
"I feel that you should pick the color your mother loves best and give her this. Show her you know what she likes. Then do the same for his mother and father."
"Fine, but I don't know theirs. I will just go with white for the men and red for the women. That's all."
"Alright then. You say the date of the wedding is a week from now on Saturday?"
"Yes, have them at the park by ten. No later or you won't get a single cent." The woman warned.
"I understand, trust me. Now then everything is in order and unless there is something else?"
"No, that's all. I have other business to attend to. My best friend just got a new boyfriend last night and wants to know what I think of him. Some Military guy." The woman made a face as if the word were some taboo. "I don't know what she is thinking, she's already got such a wealthy husband in the bank owner of hers. Quite the scandal if ask me. I wouldn't down trade from a comfortable life to one where you don't even know if he's going to make it home. Oh well. I guess some people are rather desperate." She gossiped on.
"My goodness. I must say that is rather a bad idea. However is she happy with her husband?"
"Oh, well they used to be. But she's trying to just get back at him for suddenly always leaving her alone to go on business trips. He used to take her with him and suddenly he's not!"
"Wow. Well I hope it all works out."
"I do as well. This is just not acceptable for her. Well thank you, see you next Saturday." With that the woman left the shop.
Making a face, Bridget rolled her eyes. "I hate gossips. Ugh, it's just so not needed."
The bell chimed once more and she turned to welcome her customer. "How may I help you today?" She asked, making her way over to the elderly woman. She looked around, as if the shop wasn't good enough for her.
"My friends and I are having a little get together to play cards tonight. Sadly my usual florist is ill and a woman told me about this place. Do you think you can provide for me? I need some of the best white calla lilies, a few white roses, some deep purple tulips, a few trumpet flowers, and blue bells. That about covers everyone that's coming I think. Each flower is going to a different person, so they need their own small vases. Don't make the bouquets too big, and they are useless if they are too small."
Bridget stood rooted to the spot for a brief second, shock at such a pushy attitude. Snapping to attention, she nodded. "Don't worry Ma'm. I have the perfect flowers for you. Why don't you take a seat over there by the widow and I'll start getting everything set up." The woman glanced over the seat before she sat down.
At first Bridget thought it was going to be easy. A few simple arrangements and she'd be done. Instead, the woman had a complaint about everything. From "the weed" she added as a small decoration (it had honestly been only baby's breath), to the "shabby state" of a few of the blue bells. When she started attacking the girl herself, it was all she had to remain calm and not burst into tears. From being called a "poor worker" to "rather slow", the list was endless. When she finally left two hours later, half ass satisfied with her flowers, Bridget had sank down in tears against the counter.
Belle darted over, licking at her master's face and whining. "Oh Belle. I hate monsters like that." She sobbed, the insults echoing in her mind. In her pitiful state, she didn't hear the bell chime, or the footsteps approaching her. It was when a large hand laid itself on her shoulder did she jump with a strangled scream and look up. Bright blue eyes were full of concern as she met them.
"Bridget? Hey, what's wrong? Are you ok?" Havoc asked, voice full of worry.
Nodding, she sniffed. "Oh that horrible woman! Just, it's so silly of my to cry but I couldn't help it. Nothing seems to be going right today!" She said, trying to wipe away her tears. Reaching up, Havoc grabbed a tissue for her and wiped at her tear stained cheeks.
"Come on now, it's going to be fine. And sometimes it's good for a girl to have a cry. Right?" Helping her up, he guided her to the chair. "Now, start over and tell me what happened."
Taking a deep breath and hiccupping once, she launched into her tale. From falling out of bed, to a few people walking out while she was trying to ring them up then yelling at her when she confronted them, to the two high class women.
"I just, I don't know how worse it can get! I'm not that stupid when it comes to flowers, am I?" She worried, looking down and worrying the tissue in her hands.
"Look at me."
She shook her head, fighting more tears. A strong hand came out and lifted her chin, locking their gaze. "Don't iever/i let someone get to you. Bridget, you are more passionate about flowers than anyone I have ever met. You know your stuff, I should know. I've seen you in motion. Those woman just hate feeling that a beautiful girl like you knows more than they do about something. They think that just because they grew up around parties and such with flowers that they know better. But their wrong. You can best anyone at this." His voice was strong, reassuring. Nodding, she tried to smile.
"I guess you're right. I just have had a long day and that was the final straw." She sighed, tossing her tissue away. Belle whined, ears down. "Oh girl, I'm ok now." She laughed weakly, ruffling the silky fur. "Thank you Jean." She said.
"It's what I'm good at. Feel better?"
"Much. So, now that we've gotten over that rather embarrassing ordeal, what brings you here?" She asked him.
"Nothing much, just wanted to check on you and talk. I guess it's a good thing I came."
"It was. How was last night?" It hurt to ask, and she couldn't understand why. It was like she only asked to torment herself more. The man grinned.
"Amazing. We ate dinner, walked around the park and just talked. I took her home and she asked me to come in but…I didn't." He admitted. "Don't ask why, I'd rather not say. But otherwise it was fun. I had a really great time. What about you? Don't you have a date tonight?" The question made something deep inside of him raise its head and snarl it's anger.
"Yeah, I'm a little nervous. I honestly never even thought about dating. Mostly because back where I live I knew all the men and guys and just couldn't think of them as anything other than a motley family. My best friend teased me we could date, she acts so much like a boy. We even call her "Tommy." But it just was always a joke." She laughed.
"I'm sure it will be fine. So…" He paused, a roguish, teasing grin on his face. "if you've never been on a date, I take it you've never been kissed?"
"Brett tried once on a dare and I punched him. Broke his nose. Course I was twelve."
He started laughing. "Then Josh better watch out. Who knows, you may break his nose." He teased. Blushing, she shoved him playfully.
"I will not! I'm sure it won't be that bad…"
"Mmm who knows. Some people just are bad at kissing. Some are really good."
"Oh would you stop! Now I'm worried I'm going to mess this up. Pick a new topic!"
"Oh no, this is way too much fun. Look at you blush!"
"Jean! Fine, then I bet you're only making me worry because you were lousy yourself!" She shot back, smirking.
"Hardly. I'm rather proud to say I'm a perfect kisser."
"Or so you think. You and your ego."
By then, both were laughing and shaking their heads.
"Hey, I like my ego. I have it for a reason."
"It leads you astray."
"Wanna bet?" The words slipped out of his mouth and he almost slapped a hand to his mouth like a child.
"Sure. I bet you're actually a lousy kisser."
He couldn't help it, it was like a hard drug running through is veins and just wouldn't let him stop. "Then it's a bet."
"Wait, how on earth can you prove it? And what's the stakes?"
"I win, you clean my house and give me free flowers for a month. You win, I don't know what to offer, I know I'll win."
"Ha! I win you have to be my handy man around my house and fix a things."
"Then it's a deal."
"Ok, so how do we prove it?"
"Oh no, first off, shake. Make it an official deal, then worry about that." His mind was going haywire, thoughts rushing through so fast that he couldn't even grasp one. But one just stood out, dominating his body and shutting down his rational part.
Her hand was soft, warm and small in his. As soon as he had a gentle grasp on it, he suddenly pulled her forward. Her body fit to his, pressing against him so tender and easy. It was like she had been born to be held by him. Lilac teased his senses, making him drunk on her. Nothing like when he had held Sasha the night before. She had smelled like expensive perfume, and hadn't fit like a puzzle piece. His lungs ached for air as they stood there, mouths just a few inches apart. He could feel himself tremble, and the returned shivers of her body. Beautiful hazel eyes were squeezed shut, and he finally took a ragged breath.
Leaning forward, he bypassed her lips and whispered into the shell of her ear, "If I knew I wouldn't steal something precious to you, I'd do it. You gotta watch me, I'm rather bold sometimes." He felt her shudder as his lips tickled her ear.
Standing there, Bridget didn't know if she had died, or if this was just a waking nightmare. Her body was screaming for him to do something, a feeling she hadn't ever felt, yet a fraction of her brain was crying out for her to yank away. He was taken, she was going on a date! But her body betrayed her, flushing and shivering as his breath and lips teased the tender flesh of her ear. His words were low, husky. Biting her lower lip, she could only remain frozen, battling her mind and body alike. But she wanted this, wanted to see what it was like. Was she really that twisted? To do something to only make herself suffer worse?
On the other hand, did she really want to regret her first kiss? It was like either way she would. While her mind was in turmoil, her body took charge. Shoving him away, she spun and fled. What had just happened between them?