Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like to play with them for a little
while and then return them relatively unharmed. I make no money off
writing this, so no point in suing me! :)
Feedback: Please! I love it!
Archive: Sure, just ask first please! It'll also be available on
http://www.pixies-bookshelf.tv/fic/pfa.asp.
Summary: Of flowers and thoughtful/less bosses...
Spoilers: "17 People"
Category: J&D romance, series, 1st person POV
Notes: After watching "17 people" the first time, this little piece of
fic popped in to my head. It sat around for a bit because I was (and
still am) intending on writing Josh and Donna's POV. Alas, that hasn't
happened, yet, so I figured I'd send it out anyway. Thanks to Anik for
the readthrough and encouragement to send it out. :)
---------------------------
You know, most people like getting flowers. I've been in the business for 20-odd years, and I had yet to see someone not at least crack a smile at receiving flowers, no matter the occasion. That was until I met the current Deputy White House Chief of Staff and his assistant.
The first year, in April, he came in personally to my store, wanting to be sure he picked out the right flowers for their anniversary. I thought it was rather sweet that a boss would do that for his assistant. Of course I assumed that the two of them were going at it like rabbits, which wouldn't be unusual for two people in their positions.
On the day they were to be delivered, I decided to go with them myself. I have a small shop, and it was a quiet day. Also, who wouldn't want to have an excuse to get in to the White House?
I arrived, got a temporary pass, and found my way to the area indicated by the security guard. I walked toward a woman with long, blonde hair who seemed a bit perturbed. I figured that the flowers would perk her up, since they were for her.
I stopped beside her desk and let out a little cough to gain her attention. She looked up from the screen she was glaring at and changed her expression to something more amiable. No smiles though.
"Can I help you?" she asked me.
I held out the flowers. "Flowers for Donnatella Moss."
Still no smiles. Brow furrowed. Perturbation returning. This was *so* not good.
"Thank you," the young woman replied, her tone indicating she was far from thankful. She took the flowers and placing them on her desk. She reached under the desk for her purse and took out a tip, holding it out for me. I took it and shoved it in my pocket, then turned to leave.
"You're welcome. Enjoy the flowers!" I said as I walked away. I was trying to get even a small smile out of her. No go.
As I drove back toward the store, I figured the guy had royally pissed her off about something, and it would take more than flowers to make up for it. He had an expensive evening to look forward to.
The next year he called it in. He knew what he liked, and he was going with it again. I decided to go in with them again, to see if her mood had changed. It hadn't. And it didn't in the next year either. It actually seemed to get worse. I imagined it to be like the black cloud you would see over the heads of cartoon characters, slowly getting bigger and darker. Made me start to think I had been wrong about them.
The year after, on a clear day in February, he appeared in my store. I was surprised to see him there, having expected him to give me his usual call in April.
"Mr. Lyman, what a pleasant surprise! What can I do for you today?" I asked him.
He glanced around the store, then back at me. "I'd like to order a dozen roses." Simple, straightforward. I liked it when people did that. Makes my life easier.
"Any particular color?" I queried as I moved to the fridge. He followed me and ran his gaze over the variety I had in there.
"I'll take these," he said, pointing at the red and yellow two tones.
"A lovely choice," I replied. "When would you like them delivered?"
"Actually, can you box them up right now?"
I smiled. "Of course." I went in to the fridge and picked out twelve of the best ones, then returned to the front counter, laying them on it. I took out a box and tissue paper to wrap them in. "Is there anything else you would like to go with them?"
He thought about it, then shook his head. "No, don't want to overdo it."
Again I smiled, and he returned it. He paid for them and thanked me as he took hold of the box. I could see he was looking a bit nervous, so I thought it would be good to give him a bit of encouragement.
"Good luck!"
He stopped at the door and looked back, smiling. "I'm gonna need it!"
I figured that he had bought them for his assistant, which had me scratching my head. If he was buying them now, was it possible that I was right and they had something going on? And was he just getting the important date wrong? I wasn't going to find out this year. Maybe next year.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just like to play with them for a little
while and then return them relatively unharmed. I make no money off
writing this, so no point in suing me! :)
Feedback: Please! I love it!
Archive: Sure, just ask first please! It'll also be available on
http://www.pixies-bookshelf.tv/fic/pfa.asp.
Summary: Of flowers and thoughtful/less bosses...
Spoilers: "17 People"
Category: J&D romance, series, 1st person POV
Notes: After watching "17 people" the first time, this little piece of
fic popped in to my head. It sat around for a bit because I was (and
still am) intending on writing Josh and Donna's POV. Alas, that hasn't
happened, yet, so I figured I'd send it out anyway. Thanks to Anik for
the readthrough and encouragement to send it out. :)
---------------------------
You know, most people like getting flowers. I've been in the business for 20-odd years, and I had yet to see someone not at least crack a smile at receiving flowers, no matter the occasion. That was until I met the current Deputy White House Chief of Staff and his assistant.
The first year, in April, he came in personally to my store, wanting to be sure he picked out the right flowers for their anniversary. I thought it was rather sweet that a boss would do that for his assistant. Of course I assumed that the two of them were going at it like rabbits, which wouldn't be unusual for two people in their positions.
On the day they were to be delivered, I decided to go with them myself. I have a small shop, and it was a quiet day. Also, who wouldn't want to have an excuse to get in to the White House?
I arrived, got a temporary pass, and found my way to the area indicated by the security guard. I walked toward a woman with long, blonde hair who seemed a bit perturbed. I figured that the flowers would perk her up, since they were for her.
I stopped beside her desk and let out a little cough to gain her attention. She looked up from the screen she was glaring at and changed her expression to something more amiable. No smiles though.
"Can I help you?" she asked me.
I held out the flowers. "Flowers for Donnatella Moss."
Still no smiles. Brow furrowed. Perturbation returning. This was *so* not good.
"Thank you," the young woman replied, her tone indicating she was far from thankful. She took the flowers and placing them on her desk. She reached under the desk for her purse and took out a tip, holding it out for me. I took it and shoved it in my pocket, then turned to leave.
"You're welcome. Enjoy the flowers!" I said as I walked away. I was trying to get even a small smile out of her. No go.
As I drove back toward the store, I figured the guy had royally pissed her off about something, and it would take more than flowers to make up for it. He had an expensive evening to look forward to.
The next year he called it in. He knew what he liked, and he was going with it again. I decided to go in with them again, to see if her mood had changed. It hadn't. And it didn't in the next year either. It actually seemed to get worse. I imagined it to be like the black cloud you would see over the heads of cartoon characters, slowly getting bigger and darker. Made me start to think I had been wrong about them.
The year after, on a clear day in February, he appeared in my store. I was surprised to see him there, having expected him to give me his usual call in April.
"Mr. Lyman, what a pleasant surprise! What can I do for you today?" I asked him.
He glanced around the store, then back at me. "I'd like to order a dozen roses." Simple, straightforward. I liked it when people did that. Makes my life easier.
"Any particular color?" I queried as I moved to the fridge. He followed me and ran his gaze over the variety I had in there.
"I'll take these," he said, pointing at the red and yellow two tones.
"A lovely choice," I replied. "When would you like them delivered?"
"Actually, can you box them up right now?"
I smiled. "Of course." I went in to the fridge and picked out twelve of the best ones, then returned to the front counter, laying them on it. I took out a box and tissue paper to wrap them in. "Is there anything else you would like to go with them?"
He thought about it, then shook his head. "No, don't want to overdo it."
Again I smiled, and he returned it. He paid for them and thanked me as he took hold of the box. I could see he was looking a bit nervous, so I thought it would be good to give him a bit of encouragement.
"Good luck!"
He stopped at the door and looked back, smiling. "I'm gonna need it!"
I figured that he had bought them for his assistant, which had me scratching my head. If he was buying them now, was it possible that I was right and they had something going on? And was he just getting the important date wrong? I wasn't going to find out this year. Maybe next year.