Prompt: Florist AU! Wheatley loves the girl who always comes in to buy flowers as a gift for anybody. Which is… quite often.

She came in with a warning. The bell above the door tinkled and he looked up. Finally! The first customer of the day arrived.

She was simply dressed in a brown business suit. Not someone Wheatley would expect to find in a small-town flower shop – in fact, she seemed like the type who would call in ahead of time and have the bouquet sent through their services, and even then, maybe more expensive and extravagant people.

"Greetings!" Wheatley said with a grin. The lady, however, did not return the smile or hello. She merely began to examine the flowers. Wheatley's smile faded rapidly – perhaps she already knew what she was looking for?

Watching her maneuver around the store, he wondered if she should make conversation. Mild stuff, about her day, his day, flowers… the usual small chit-chat people made in the store when they arrived.

"I'd like these," she said, pointing to a series of white flowers.

"Is that all you'd like, luv?" He came out from behind the counter to take the bucket of white cyclamens so he could start arranging them.

Shaking her head, she also pointed to the orange lilies nearby. "Just one of these in the bouquet."

Wheatley thought the request curious, but did as she asked anyway. Taking a single orange lily from the pail, he began to pull out multiple white ones while asking more questions.

"Would you like in wrapped or in a vase?"

She pointed to the paper nearby.

"Who is this for?"

"It is my boss' birthday today."

"I see," Wheatley murmured, focusing on the arrangement of the flowers instead. This lady was giving off a very professional, no nonsense impression. Clearly, she wasn't one for conversation, either. She merely watched as he put the bouquet together.

"And who am I making this out to?"

"A Miss Caroline Gladwell," she said.

"Any return name?"

"…No, thank you."

Wheatley held the finished product out to her, ringing up the order and watching her go. The bouquet looked nice in her arms as she cradled it out the door and into a simple car. Much nicer looking than his tiny used Beetle.

He wondered if she would be back.

"Hello there- Oh! You again!"

The Lady, as he'd taken to calling her when he thought about her, pointed to herself with a questioning look.

"Yeah, you! I wanted to ask you about your bouquet! Clever stuff you did there, mighty clever… you hate your boss, don't you?"

"…Doesn't everybody?" she said in a simple monotone. He laughed.

"Fair point, fair point, sweetheart. That's the past, though – what can I do for you today?"

"I'm going out on a date-" Wheatley felt his shoulders sag "-and I need a bouquet."

"I mean, you didn't come in here for chocolates or anything," he said with a slightly forced laugh. "Know what you're looking for?"

"Green," she said. "Something unique."

"…Well, luv, we carry something… unique, I guess you could say. Gladiolus, carry this one in green. Is it good for you?"

She nodded, allowing Wheatley this time to pair it with other flowers. He picked out colors that he believed went well with the green – a red balsam, and accents of orange butterfly weed. They would look dashing surrounding a green centerpiece of the gladiolus.

"Vase or- no, let me guess. Paper?"

She nodded, and he wrapped it up for her, holding out the bouquet and feeling her fingers, hardened skin but a gentle touch, brush against his.

"Enjoy the date," he said as she left, the bell over the door tinkling again.

"I'll try."

The day had been busy. Someone wanted their store to make so many bouquets and vases for a wedding! Wheatley began to load them into the van as the car drove up behind him, the person inside killing the engine and getting out. After this,

"Need any help?"

Wheatley turned back from shoving boxes of vases into the van to see the Lady standing there, head tilted the side. Her hair was down today – oh man, did that look nice on her – and she was back for something… was it another bouquet? He could manage one for her, certainly, no problem.

"No, luv, just a couple more boxes for the driver. Late night wedding wanted flowers, all fresh and a little last minute. So these are just going to hustle over there and we're closing the shop early."

"Oh, then I'll come back another time." She went to turn back to her car, but Wheatley didn't want her to leave-!

"Wait up! I didn't say we couldn't manage yours… so long as it's within reason and we have the materials."

The keys dropped back into her purse as she followed Wheatley in, watching him sigh with relief at the completion of such an order.

"Tell me what you'd like, luv."

"Hm… this one is for a co-worker who's leaving our place for a better one. Well-wishing sort of gift. I think Bells of Ireland would be nice."

"Not as the main thing, right? I mean, those green stalks would be pretty boring, if they were a centerpiece, you know—"

"And these pink camellias."

"Can I suggest white ragged-robin to complete it?"

She nodded. "And can this be in a vase, please?"

"Of course." Wheatley gave a small bow, and arranged the bouquet into a simplistic but stunning fashion – the pink was a clear centerpiece but the accents of white and green made it look ever the nicer, which made her happy to look at it.

"Can I have a card on this one?"

"Of course. Who is it to?"

"To Craig. From Chell."

Wheatley almost dropped his pen. "A-and spell that out for me? It's easy but just in case."

"C-H-E-L-L. Thank you. You have very nice handwriting… um…"

"Wheatley," he replied, spinning the vase around to pass her the finished product. "Nice to finally trade names, Miss Chell."

She smiled, lifting the purchased vase and allowing Wheatley to hold the door open for her as they left.

"So, I got a quick question," Wheatley said, rubbing the back of his neck while she carefully wedged the vase into her car. "Did that date ever work out?"

Chell tilted her head to one side, before shaking it. "Oh, no. Didn't get past the first one. He liked the flowers, thought they were a nice touch. But we didn't click at all."

Wheatley felt his heart give a mini fistbump. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"Not your fault. It's not like the bouquet meant anything bad. It looked quite nice."

She waved at him as she drove away, and he watched her go… hoping that she would come back a little more often.

Even if she wasn't buying flowers.

"Hello?" Chell called back into the store. A few moments later, Wheatley burst out of the back room. He rarely saw Chell on a weekend.

"Hello! Hey, luv, how are you today?"

"Good. New neighbor. And since the apartments are always so empty and bland, I thought a bouquet would be nice."

"Of course, good choices, always. Your first apartment always seems so bare… as does your second… and third…"

Chell gave a small laugh. "Here, while you reminisce, I'll bring the flowers I want over."

"No no! I got them, luv, just tell me!"

"Okay, okay, um… yellow asters, and that white American starwort."

"That's a very basic bouquet."

"I'm counting on the yellow to emphasize."

"You could accent it with a voluminous dark blue flower. It might pop out the color of the yellow a bit more, too."

"That could work."

They traded options for a little while, to the point where a small group of people began to form behind Chell's start of the line, and their conversation was forced to be cut short for the sake of a few others and their needs as customers. Wheatley eventually sent her off with the yellow asters in a sea of blue and white flowers, and that same smile and wave she seemed to give when she left.

Just as radiant as the yellow of those asters.

The bell always caught Wheatley's attention. He always hoped he would see Chell again. The chance was always there and he never wasted a moment looking to see if maybe, just maybe—!

His heart almost stopped when he saw this time, it was actually her. She was smiling at him, and greeted him with a wave.

"Here for a bouquet today."

"What else would you get, luv?"

"Not much else," she said, looking back at the buckets of flowers. "I know what I want today, though."

"That's good," he said, coming out from behind the counter. "Just tell me and I'll start putting it together."

"This borage, the blue one… the white zephyr, and the white violets. And you pick your favorite vase that matches, I don't have a preference today." She smiled back at him, looking around at the other flowers while he made the arrangement. That was strange. Usually she watched him, studying the way he did things. Sometimes her eyebrows would scrunch if she didn't like something and he'd fix it right away. But today she was meandering. So maybe today he could just go with his gut and make it how he wanted. Clearly this bouquet wasn't for something… important.

Unless it was. Wheatley's mind began to race. What if it was for another boyfriend? Another coworker? Someone died? Who the heck even knew, but he found himself jealous of this other potential lover that she could maybe have and almost wanted to ask, but refrained until he finished the arrangement and called for her to come over.

"Do you like it?"

She studied it with a careful eye, but nodded. "If you like it, it looks great."

Wheatley rang her up, the question of who it was for still burning inside him. Pushing the vase towards her, he said, "Have a good day."

"Hang on, you didn't put a card on it."

Wheatley blinked, realizing that he had been so caught up in this question that he neglected to even ask about the extra card.

"Actually, it doesn't matter." She took the vase in her hands, but didn't lift it up yet. "Thanks."

"I hope they like it," he said with a smile.

"Me too," she replied.

The vase slid back across the counter.

Wheatley suddenly found himself confused. She wasn't leaving yet. His gaze, which somehow found it's way to the door automatically, went back to the counter. The vase had been pushed in his direction.

"Chell, here."

The vase slid back towards him again.

"Do you know what these flowers mean?"

Wheatley stared hard at them, but he had no idea what borage, zephyr, and violets meant. To him, the artistic appeal was all he needed, and nothing more…

"Here." She spun the bouquet back to face him. "This means blunt," she said, pointing to the borage. "And the zephyr means-"

"Wait, is this a bouquet that says you… you… …Chell, do you want to go out with me?"

She smiled.

Wheatley felt his face break into a grin. Carefully dodging the vase, he pushed forward, pulling her across the counter into a hug.

"I'll take this as a yes," she said with a laugh, giving him a hug back.

Flower Meanings:

Cyclamen: Resignation / Lily (Orange): Hate

Gladiolus: Flower of the Gladiators / Balsam (Red): Touch Me Not / Butterfly Weed: Let Me Go

Camellia: Perfection or Good Luck Gift for a Male / Bells of Ireland: Luck / Ragged-Robin: Wit

Aster: Means some stuff about love, but really, in this case it just looks like a star / American Starwort: Welcome to a stranger

Borage: Blunt / Zephyr: Symbol of Love / Violets (White): Let's Take A Chance On Happiness