A/N: Haha, I feel like I did when I was young and in the YGO fandom. Happy.
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Escort to Happiness.
Four.
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The next day was burdened with clouds. It seemed as if it would be ready to pour all day long and people walked about with their umbrellas at the ready but at one o' clock in the afternoon when it still hadn't rained, everyone was starting to become skeptical. L, included. He watched out of the window of his small office, leaning his reclining leather chair back and neglecting the charts and graphs on his computer monitor.
Then, a knock on his door and he called out, "Yes?"
The door opened and Raito poked his head in, finding L, as usual, loafing around. He shut the door behind him as he walked inside. "L, are you ready to go to lunch?"
L swiveled around, his expression even more down-trodden than usual.
Raito blinked and then smirked, shaking the hair from his eyes. "A little put out, L?"
"Not more than usual," he responded, sighing.
"Oh, cheer up. I bet you'd feel better if we were to go to the Cheesecake Factory. Right?" Raito grinned as he sat on the corner of the desk. L didn't say anything and Raito looked out of the large window, the sky a light gray. "Wow, it does look like it's going to rain," he mused.
"It is a backdrop for my confusion and malcontent."
"…"
"I thought the flowers would work. In most books or television shows, women find them romantic," L said, turning to look out of the window.
"… You know Mello's a guy, right?"
"I did not think there was much difference."
"Huh?"
"I see now that I was wrong," he said and looked up at Raito. "But I do not know how to remedy the situation. I have no idea what a young man like that would want."
Raito shrugged, an eyebrow raised. "Well, don't look at me… I guess you'd have to ask someone his age."
"I don't know any-"
"Excuse me?" There was a knock at the door and a soft voice calling from the other side. "Mr. Lawliet?"
L called, "Come in," and the door opened with Near on the other side, a manila folder in one hand. He seemed surprised to see Raito in there but said nothing, shuffling inside and placing the folder on the desk between the two.
"This is from the fourth floor, the numbers from the Oak Group deal," he said, "and if you could-"
"Yes, thank you, Near," L interrupted, having swiveled back around to face the young man. He stared at him with a piqued interest. "Near, how old are you?"
"… I'm twenty, sir."
Raito raised an eyebrow. What a tiny thing. He must've been bullied like crazy.
L cut Raito a quick glance and returned his attention to the small white-haired man in front of him. "What would make you happy?" he asked.
Near blinked, tilting his head to the side. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean. I'm perfectly fine."
"Well, what would make you finer?"
"… Sir?"
Raito shook his head. "This is going absolutely no where."
Near looked up at Raito and shrugged, taking a lock of his hair between his fingers. "If you mean in a material sense, I suppose a raise would do me some good," he said, thoughtfully.
"Interns don't get raises," Raito said.
"Well, you asked what would make me happy."
L nodded. "I did."
"Since when has money ever made anyone happy?" Raito asked, looking pointedly at L.
"We've got money," he said, gesturing to the two of them and their surroundings, "and we're happy."
"You just got done saying that rain clouds were the backdrop for your confusion and malcontent."
"Well, besides that," L said, turning back to Near. "Thank you, Near, for your input on the situation."
Near nodded unsurely and let his hand fall from the curls of his hair. He wasn't sure what the situation was and didn't think he had been a help at all but was content to leave. The two older men watched as he walked out of the room quietly, to go somewhere, maybe to get some lazy person coffee.
L tapped his lower lip thoughtfully.
-
Mello shifted as he leant his elbows on the hard counter of the flower shop. He shifted from foot to foot, completely uncomfortable as a young man, a customer, stood in front of him and babbled on and on. Rosie was in the back room on a call or else Mello would have definitely let her handle this guy. He was no good at these people interactions, all he really wanted to do was sweep and clip the flowers.
"-don't know what she wants," the young man droned. He could be no older than Mello himself and he looked around the shop in confusion, running a hand through his hair. "I'm no flower-wizard, so do you think you could help me?" he asked, looking towards Mello's unwavering expression of boredom.
Did he just say 'flower-wizard'…? Mello looked about the shop. "Well, you know her better than I do… what's she like?"
"She's really pretty."
"… most flowers are really pretty," Mello mimicked and the customer didn't seem to notice.
He thought for a second.
Mello interrupted his thinking. "What's her favorite color?"
"Um. I'm not sure. I think it's see-through. Do you have any of those?"
"We don't have invisible flowers," Mello replied hotly.
"Oh, I see… well, what should I do?"
Mello shook his head and drummed his fingers on the counter. "Well," he hummed, "what's her name?"
"Irene," he said.
"We have irises. That kind of sounds like Irene. I guess."
"Oh, that sounds great!" He smiled brightly and began to fish his wallet out of his back pocket. "I'll take a dozen of those."
"Great," Mello droned and walked into the backroom. Rosie was still on the phone, talking a mile a minute in the corner, twirling the cord around her pudgy fingers. Mello ignored her and began to clip the irises and take plastic to wrap the bouquet in. When he was finished, he came back into the front and the two of them made the exchange - cash for flowers and a smile for a grunt. When he left, Mello was alone in the front of the shop once again and he wondered if the walkway needed sweeping for the third time that day. He craned his neck and saw the heavy clouds rolling overhead and decided to keep inside.
It was ten more minutes before he heard the phone being set back down and Rosie came out of the back room with the watering can, flouncing about with it.
"Mello, did you make a sale?" she asked, hovering over a stand of azaleas.
"Yeah, a bunch of irises to some weird guy."
"Lovely!"
Mello frowned at her. "Hey, why won't you tell me who bought those flowers for me?"
"Because I must retain the confidence between me and my customers," she cried, turning around and the hem of her apron turned with her. Her jaw was set in a determined pout at the already-pouting blond. "Anonymous is a very revered word in the flower-business. And besides, I'm sure if he really likes you, he'll reveal himself to you soon enough."
If he does, I'll give him an old-fashioned punch in the snoot. Mello huffed and turned away.
The bell above the door rang and Mello looked up, ready for another love-struck teenager to come waltzing inside and was rather surprised to find a handsome brunet in a business suit walk in, pausing to look at the flower stands as he made his way to the counter.
"Welcome!" Rosie greeted him with her usual chirrup and a smile. "Looks like we might be having some rain today, right?
He smiled back at her and nodded, "Yes, I'm unfortunate, I've forgotten my umbrella at home."
"Can we help you with anything today, sir?"
"Oh, I'm just looking," he said and turned away.
She turned back to her flowers, humming.
Mello watched the man as he paused to look at a sign advertising the sego lilies that had just arrived and another stand that had little packets of seeds for those do-it-yourselfers. He finally made his way up to the counter and Mello thought he saw the man hold back a smile at the apron Mello wore.
"Can I help you?" he asked, already irritated.
"Yes, I would like to buy…" he paused and glanced over his shoulder. Mello blinked and tilted his head to see what was going on but the man whirled back around with a smile set firmly in place. His left eye was twitching. "I would like a sunflower."
"… A sunflower. You mean like one?"
"Yes, like one," he growled, his smile now seeming unnatural.
Mello sighed heavily, "Okay," he said and went to the back to fetch it. He returned, flower in hand, no plastic wrapping or bow or card and handed it over. "That'll be three dollars," he said plainly.
The man nodded, taking his wallet from his coat pocket and fishing around inside. "Oh," he said, "I don't seem to have any ones. Here," and he handed over two hundred-dollar bills.
Mello raised both eyebrows when he walked away briskly and said, "Keep the change. It's a tip."
The bell rang on his way out.
Mello stared down at the money in his hands in shock.
"Oh, Mello! Look at your tip, you must've done a great job with him," Rosie observed excitedly. She ran up to his side and hugged him. "I'm so proud of you!"
Mello bore the embrace without much notice. What in fuck is going on?
-
Raito ran across the street and around the corner to the Starbucks there. Sitting at one of the outdoor tables, and the only person having enough nerve to sit outside with the clouds overhead, was L, in a fetal position with a cappuccino in front of him and sunglasses on. He noticed Raito from the other side of the street and pulled out a seat for him as he came to the table.
"How did it-"
"I'm not going back in there and you can't make me," Raito said, face a budding thunderstorm of its own. "That was humiliating, L, I probably looked like the biggest creep."
"I will ask no more from you," L said calmly, a small smile emerging from behind the paper cup as he sipped. "I've ordered for you."
Raito sighed, adjusting himself in his seat. "Thanks…"
"So? What happened?"
"Well, he got the money. Really, I can't believe you withdrew that much for him. A stranger! I don't see you spending two hundred on me."
"What about those Armani Weave-Print Oxfords you received for Christmas?"
"… Okay, those were nice," Raito admitted. He leant back in the chair as an employee from the shop came out and set a non-fat latte with orange extract in front of the brunet. Raito raised his eyebrow. "At least you know what I like."
"See? I don't ignore you."
Raito nodded and sipped the drink placidly.
"I wonder if that money will make him happy," L mused, sipping his own.
Raito rolled his eyes. "He's probably never seen that much before from the look of him…"
"Did he seem any happier?"
"He seemed weirded out."
"Hmm. I will have to find out later."
Raito glanced at him over the rim of the cup. "How will you do that?"
L smiled and lowered his sunglasses to the tip of his nose. "That's for me to know."
"… can't you take those things off? You look really silly."
-
There was a deep breath and then the plunge.
Mello flicked the light on and looked about. Thankfully, no flowers. No new ones anyway as he had yet to get rid of the old. They weren't so bad looking, he thought to himself as he closed the door behind himself and came in. It was just the thought that someone out there was possibly infatuated with him that really left a bad taste in his mouth.
But he was about to remedy that with the bag of greasy Taco Bell he currently had in his hand. That rich man who came in and gave him the insane tip was at least good for something. Before that, Mello had considered having rice for the fifth day in a row.
He turned the television on and threw a bouquet of the wilting sunflowers off of the recliner. He sat down heavily and began to rummage through the plastic bag with burritos on top of tacos. The crinkling of the wrapping was accompanied by the bland voices from the television, some late-night court show.
Mello watched without much interest and chewed monotonously.
He looked over to the other chair by the coffee table, the one with three legs, that Matt had broken by sitting on it the wrong way. He huffed and chewed more vigorously, trying to ignore the mental image of a redhead rocking away on a wooden chair and laughing when he fell to his ass.
Maybe he would spend some of this big tip on a new chair.
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To be continued.
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A/N: Thoughts, questions? Hit me.