references my stories *It's Just The Gas and Little Stories In The Little Shop 8

*February 14 1965

Seymour returned home from the shop to find Audrey on the couch with the tv on, but in a deep sleep. At the foot of the couch sat a small cloud of used tissues, and on the coffee table sat a mug of half drunk tea and honey which was now cold. Removing his coat and shoes and unraveling his scarf she failed to even stir. Seymour moved forward and turned the knob on the tv to shut it off, and glanced back at her. Audrey was so incredibly pale, even more so than her hair. Seymour thought she looked like an angel aside from her nose now tinted red from irritation. Tucked under her arm as she slept was her stuffed cocker spaniel that Seymour had given her last valentines day.

"Audrey?" he said, getting down on his knees in front of the couch.

She made a noise and opened her eyes, smiled at him, and closed them again.

"Audrey are you feeling better?"

Eyes still shut she shook her head.

"Do you want some more tea or maybe dinner?"

She stirred slightly and let out a small moan that sounded like, "no."

"Would you like to just go to bed?"

She nodded but otherwise didn't move. She looked to be asleep again but he could tell she wasn't by her soft slow humming.

"Audrey?" Seymour said, prodding her shoulder.

Leaning forward he took both her arms, wrapped them around his neck and lifted her into his arms. She smiled and lay her head on his shoulder but kept her eyes closed. As he carried her, her humming was replaced by singing.

"I'm his December bride

He's father, he knows best

Our kids play Howdy Doody

as the sun sets in the west

A picture outta Better Homes And Gardens magazine..."

Holding Audrey tight with one arm, he reached forward and pulled back the covers with the other. Gently he lay her down. Her arms didn't move as she kept a hold on him, and he had to duck to get out. She kept her arms extended, reaching for him, and he took one in his own.

"... far from Skid Row I dream we'll go somewhere that's green."

Seymour had heard her humming this tune before in the past, and sometimes would catch bits and pieces of the words. They made his heart flutter.

"Audrey?"

"Hmm?"

He knelt down in front of her and she opened her eyes.

"We did. We did go somewhere that's green."

Audrey smiled. "We did, didn't we?"

Seymour nodded. "You don't have to dream it any more."

She adjusted to make herself more comfortable. In doing so she stuck her arm off the bed and touched his cheek with the tip of her fingers. Before falling asleep again she moaned softly and barely audible at all, "You are my dream, Seymour."

February 20 1965

"Audrey?"

She had both her elbows propped on the backroom table and her face resting in her hands.

"What's the matter?"

She took a breath and looked up. He was relieved to see that she wasn't crying, not yet anyway. She looked stressed.

"It's not turning out," she said, irritated but not directing it toward him.

"What isn't?"

She motioned over dramatically to the table in front of her.

"The flowa's. The roses are all wrong. I must'a orda'd the wrong kind. These aren't right at all. They aren't plump and the color is off. It's ruining the entire bouquet."

Seymour looked down at the table and picked up several roses to examine.

"Are you sure? I think they look fine."

He glanced up. Audrey was chewing on her nails. She never chewed on her nails.

"Audrey?"

She shook her head and dropped her face back in her hands.

"Audrey I think you are over stressed out about this. It's not really a problem."

She exhaled sharply but said nothing.

"Here, I'll handle this. Why don't you take a break and clear your head."

She glanced up at him for several long moments before nodding very meekly.

"Okay," she whispered, "thank you."

She pushed the table to scoot her chair out, but in doing so rocked it enough to knock down a vase full of water. It flooded the table, soaking the order forms and bathing the roses. Seymour moved swiftly to rescue the paper, holding it at an angle to drip.

"Oh no!" She covered her face again and began to blubber. "Look what I've done!"

"Audrey!"

He put the paper on another counter and moved toward her. She was sobbing by then. She wrapped her arms around him and rested her face on his shoulder, soaking it with tears. What was wrong with her? She was never this moody before.

February 28 1965

"Are you ready?" Seymour asked.

Audrey hesitated and took a deep breath before smiling at him.

"You know I'd never take you if I didn't think you'd be safe."

She swiftly shook her head. "No no no I know. I have faith in you."

Seymour moved forward and ran his hand up and down her arm to comfort her. "It's nothing. I promise. Nothing at all."

"This isn't nothing. This is something. And I'm really proud of you."

Seymour smiled sheepishly. "You'll try next. I'm sure."

She looked sarcastic. "We'll see."

"I guess people here do this kind of thing all the time."

"Did you eva' think you would?"

Seymour thought before replying. "No I don't think I ever did."

She shook her head. "Me neitha'." She smiled. "We should make a list of things we never expected. Because we've done a bunch of 'em by now."

Seymour smiled.

Audrey counted on her fingers. "Leaving Skid Row."

"Getting married," He added.

Audrey beamed. "The house, the shop…"

Seymour motioned his hand outward. "Now this."

Audrey took a step toward him and placed her hand on his back.

"We're full of surprises. What's next I wonda'."

"We still have to finish this one. Still ready?"

She nodded without hesitation this time.

He took her hand and walked her to the car and opened the passenger door for her. Climbing in he shut the door behind her and ran over to his side. By the time he climbed in she had already fastened her seatbelt. He gripped his as well.

"Here we go."

March 1 1965

Seymour stepped into the kitchen just as Audrey angled her pan and scraped the eggs onto a plate. He smiled at her as she hummed a tune.

"What's this for?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Just felt like eggs today. Is it bad?"

He hugged her from behind and kissed her cheek.

"Why would it be bad?"

She blushed and shrugged out of the hug, handing him his plate.

"What's on the agenda for today?" She asked, stirring her eggs with her fork.

"After the delivery to St. Andrew's home we are wide open."

"I haven't finished yet. I will when we get to the shop." She looked up at him abruptly. "I'm sorry."

He didn't understand why she always felt the need to apologize.

"It'll be easy. You do funeral arrangements in your sleep."

She blushed. "They're the easiest. I remember when I first started working for Mushnik he taught me that…"

She trailed off. Slowly she put down her fork and brought her hand to her mouth.

"What's wrong?"

She looked back up and shook her head. "Nothing. Nothing I'm fine."

Audrey manufactured a smile. Reaching over she grabbed her glass of orange juice. The cup hadn't reached her lips before she brought her hand to her mouth again and bolted from the room.