By: TygerEye Antilles
Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the Anitaverse. It all belongs to Ms. Hamilton.
Author�s Note: This is in response to a fic challenge issued by Montana.
Summary: Edward finds himself thinking about a certain woman�
ROSES
I held the door open for the attractive young woman with her arms full of single roses. Flower shops are always notoriously busy around Valentine�s Day. She smiled at me in thanks and managed to find her way to the counter without dropping any of the flowers. There were at least five other men inside the shop, all of them uncomfortable. Not that I was surprised; men tend to dislike having to spend time in flower shops, especially the ultra masculine ones. To them, flower shops were for women and gays. Sexist bastards. The pretty girl offered to help one of the other men, since I was the newest arrival, and based on the expressions one of the tattooed men wore, the others had been waiting for a while. I wandered towards one of the front window displays, the beautiful but plain roses for every occasion.
I hid a grimace caused by the ache throughout my body. I had spent the past week at a nearby ranch, trying to help the family find their missing daughter. The daughter was nineteen years old, and it appeared to the police that she had run away. Apparently they�d told the parents that there was little they could do but hope the girl would return. The family was convinced that their beloved Cassie had been kidnapped, and I was asked if I would help. There was a group of four shapeshifters whom they considered dangerous, and most likely Cassie�s captors. I agreed to help; Donna and the kids were visiting family in Wyoming, and I was bored. The chance to kill rogue shifters promised to brighten my dull schedule.
It didn�t take long to track the lycanthropes, and the girl was with them. This hadn�t been the first kidnapping; Cassie was just the first to be found while still alive. I was given the �Okay� to exterminate the vermin, and get the girl out of there. It was refreshingly easy: none of the boys were fighters. They�d barely begun to learn their strengths, and the kidnap and murder victims were all young girls, ones they knew in high school. What disappointed me was that I didn�t get a chance to use all of my new toys�they died too quickly, plus the police were practically breathing down Ted�s neck, trying to get to the shapeshifters first. All the young police officers wanted to brag that they�d been the ones to take out a couple of shapeshifters. Made for good conversations at the cop bars.
The family was ecstatic when I arrived back, with the long-blond haired Cassie in tow. She didn�t see the executions, since the leader of the miniature pack had conveniently knocked her out just before I jumped in on them. Besides, all the police would see were silver shot. I didn�t use anything special this time, just an ordinary shotgun I kept around. I was paid handsomely for the kills by the city, but the family couldn�t think of a way to thank Ted Forrester for bringing back their daughter, so I was offered a chance to stay at the ranch for the rest of the week, free of charge. I took them up on the offer, spending my remaining four days in a bunkhouse. The owner had fitted me with a gelding affectionately called Diablo. And a devil he was. I have no doubt Donna will question me about the bruises I know sport after Diablo was stung by some insect and went into a bucking fit. This was not my first time on horseback, but I�d managed to avoid injury those few times.
I already knew that I was going to buy roses for Donna. She was a typical woman, and on Valentine�s Day expected roses. Normally, I would have already ordered them, but I�d let time escape when I spent my couple of days as a cowboy. That was fun, though. I wonder what Anita would have thought.
I felt my spine go rigid. Why did I care what Anita would have thought? Donna. I should be thinking about what Donna would think. She�d probably laugh, trying to imagine her �Good Ol� Boy� Ted on the back of a horse. She would probably want to take the kids out there sometime for a vacation, saying that being away from a large city would be good for them. I�d be expected to teach Peter and Becca how to ride safely. I�d be expected to be their father.
I still wasn�t sure what I thought of that. Sometimes it was all I could think about, that I was finally going to have a normal life, but then other times, like when I take on hunts, I know I could never have a family. Not like Donna�s, anyhow.
You cannot have this family. The words still ring in my ears. How long ago was it that Anita told me this? Last year, sometime? When I had her down here to help with the mutilation murders. How is it that she, the innocent one, the na�ve one, could read my mind so easily? The thing is, I know I can�t have Donna�s family. But Ted can. It would be difficult, yes, but I�ve kept the truth from Donna for several years already, what will stop a few more? I know that this won�t be a long-lasting marriage. It�s too soon after her husband�s death for her. She still hasn�t completely gotten over that, and I know that once she does, the fact that she�s married to a bounty hunter will finally hit her mind, and conscience, and I�ll be sent packing. I already expect that, so what harm would come in letting Ted try the marriage?
But you are Ted.
True, but he is not me. I can make Ted disappear any time I want him to. Edward is always there, just below the surface.
�Can I help you, sir?� I turned and saw the pretty woman. I had lost track of time, and the store was in a lull. I must have been staring at the turquoise vase for at least eight minutes, most likely more. Damn it, Edward. I walked over to the counter that she stood behind and leaned casually against it. I could feel the weight of my Beretta press slightly against the light jacket, but knew that she wouldn�t see it. I didn�t have any real reason to carry the gun, but it was just something I never left home without. Shirt, jeans, boots, cowboy hat, Beretta. See, it fits in.
�Yeah, I would like to order a dozen roses. Do you still have some?� My Ted face was apologetic. Yes, I know I am waiting to the day before Valentine�s Day. I know you are extremely busy, but I need to buy roses for my na�ve fianc�e.
She smiled. �Of course. We have the largest supply of roses in Santa Fe, sir.�
�Great.� Relief washed over my face. �Can I have a dozen red roses?�
�Anything else?�
�Nope. I�ll go ahead and pick them up tomorrow, if that�s okay. I�ll be picking my fianc�e up at the airport, and I wanted some flowers to greet her with.�
�Flowers are always a good welcome-home gift,� she agreed. �Especially since it is also Valentine�s Day.� She typed into the computer and gave me the price. I wrote a check for the exact amount. Was it just me, or were roses always more expensive in February?
I thanked her and began to walk towards the glass door, and found myself idly wondering what Anita was doing. Not Donna, not my fianc�e, but Anita. I hadn�t even seen the Executioner in almost a year, not since she was down here in New Mexico, and yet I offhandedly wonder more about her than I do the woman I intend to marry. Jesus, Edward.
Not that it was much of a surprise. My entire week had been full of unwanted thoughts about Anita Blake. Down with the shapeshifters (I wonder whether Anita is still with the werewolf), on Diablo (I wonder what Anita would say; she doesn�t see me as the cowboy type), in the car (I forgot to buckle my seatbelt, careless; Anita would have reminded me), double-checking my Beretta before placing it in the shoulder holster (I taught Anita to always do that), throwing out the dead flowers from my living room (Anita suggested orchids instead). It was like she was invading my mind, my thoughts. I had spent more time thinking of Anita than I had my dear Donna!
What would Anita be doing tomorrow? Would she spend the day with her wolf? The vampire? Would she rather be with her junior high science teacher or her undead Frenchman? Maybe she�d spend the day with Richard, and then party at night with Jean-Claude. If you had two boys, the only fair thing to do would be to share them, of course. I shook my head, but walked back to the counter.
�Is there some way you could send flowers out of state?�
�Of course, sir. Well, actually, we have shops in all of the major cities in the United States. We�ll forward your order to the city closest.�
�Great.� I hesitated. Go on, Edward.
Come on, you tell the girl she�s your soul mate, and then you�re afraid to send her flowers for Valentine�s Day?
But we�ve both admitted that we don�t think of each other romantically, at all.
So why is she stuck in your head? Why are you wondering what she is doing at all times of the day? Why should you care?
I don�t.
The girl looked at me oddly, and smiled. �What kind of flowers, sir?�
Roses, of course. Blood red. �Red roses. Dark red. Two of them, please. Long-stemmed. Could I have them tied together with a cord, maybe? Black cord.�
�Of course. Where are these going to be sent?�
�St. Louis.�
�All right, and the recipient�s name?�
�Anita. Anita Blake.� I told the woman Anita�s work address. If they were dropped off at her home, there was a good chance she wouldn�t be there to accept them, but I knew Bert would have her in her office. Besides, if they were dropped off at home, they would probably be lost in the flood of flowers from her undead boyfriend.
�And your name, sir?�
Hadn�t I just told her my name five minutes ago, when I ordered for Donna? �Ted Forrester. But I don�t want my name on the card. I don�t want her to know who sent it.� I smiled. �I want it to be a surprise,� I added. She handed me the note to fill out and I decided not to write anything. Anita knew my handwriting. If she asked me about the flowers, then I�d have the chance to accept or deny it, depending on her reaction. No, I am not afraid. Just cautious. I asked the girl to write Anita�s name on the card for me.
�That�s fine; we just need the name for the paperwork we send up there.� I paid cash for Anita�s roses.
�Thank you, sir, and I hope Anita enjoys the flowers. You�re especially thoughtful; sending her flowers up there and then giving her flowers when she arrives back. I wish my boyfriend was that nice.�
I smiled at her. What could I say? They weren�t for the same woman. One was for my fianc�e; the other was for my soul mate. �So the dozen roses will be ready by tomorrow?�
�Yes, sir. They are under your name, no tag as asked.�
�Thanks.� As I walked out of the shop, I put back on my cowboy hat. The Hummer was parked out back, and it took me only a minute to start up the engine and pull out of the parking lot.
I hate airports. So many people crowding around the gates, waiting for family, friends, business acquaintances to step off the plane. I�d been here a week before, dropping my brown-haired fianc�e off, and I was here again the welcome her and the munchkins back. So is the life of the man known as Death. I certainly wasn�t the only male in the room with an armful of flowers. Valentine�s Day must be hell for airport security.
I looked around, waiting to see Donna�s unmistakable face, as well as the children. I kept my Ted face on, knowing that it was realistic, that few could see past the mask.
Anita could.
I firmly pushed the annoying voice to the back of my head. I felt guilty about sending the roses to Anita. I had considered canceling the order, but Anita wouldn�t know who sent them, so what was the harm in that? The guilt was caused by the fact that I had sent roses to a woman, when I was engaged to a different woman.
Ted is engaged. Edward isn�t. Ted is going to give Donna roses, Edward sent roses to Anita.
�Ted!� I heard Donna exclaim, and I immediately turned towards her voice.
�Welcome back, Honey-pot,� I said, grinning. She carefully picked up the flowers, and gave me a one-armed hug and kiss, careful not to crush the flowers.
�Oh, they�re beautiful, Ted. I absolutely love them!� She kissed me again. Becca hugged me tightly, and for once Peter didn�t seem to be angry with me.
�Hey, kid,� I greeted him, and tousled his hair like Ted would. Now Peter scowled. Such an indignant teenager.
Becca launched into a story of the plane flight, how she could see everything, even my house. I doubted that, but why argue with a child?
I glanced at Donna, and I found myself looking into her pretty brown eyes, and wishing I were looking into Anita�s darker ones.
As long as Donna didn�t know, what was the harm? And it wasn�t like Ted was being unfaithful. I know Anita would protest, but it was a good thing she couldn�t read my thoughts.
I took the Donna and the kids out to dinner at Los Tres R�os, The Three Rivers, a new restaurant in town that had good food. Maybe we�d come out here more often. That night I lay in bed with Donna curled up beside me, and I wondered what Anita was doing.
You sit back in your chair, and just stare at the vampire standing on the other side of the desk.
�What are you doing here, Jean-Claude? I told you that my office was off-limits.�
He gracefully takes the chair across from you. �Ma petite, I was wondering why you were working tonight. Surely your boss would understand if you took Valentine�s Day off? I was hoping you�d come with me to Danse Macabre.�
�I�ve already told you Jean-Claude, no. I have work to do.�
�I cannot help but think that this paperwork mysteriously showed up when both Richard and I asked you out tonight.�
It would serve you right, you think to yourself, carefully shielding your thoughts. �Please, just leave. I have a shitload of paperwork to do. Maybe tomorrow,� you offer.
�Couldn�t you do this paperwork tomorrow, and take tonight off?�
�No,� you answer, your stubborn nature showing itself. �Leave.�
As the vampire reluctantly stands up to exit the room, he notices the pair of roses on the edge of your desk. Still buds, barely blooming, they are a beautiful gift.
�Who are the flowers from, ma petite?�
�I thought you sent them.� You look up from your papers. You know Richard had not sent them. Richard the werewolf had already sent white roses, along with a box of chocolates. They were sitting on the counter in your kitchen.
�I did not.� He smiled, and accidentally flashed his fangs. You realize that something bothers him. He usually has better control than to reveal his vampire fangs. �I have sent flowers to your home.�
Then who sent them? you wonder. You would argue that they were delivered to the wrong person, but the name clearly reads Anita Blake,
Long after the vampire left, the roses catch your eyes again. Who would send you flowers, if it weren�t the boys? You know that it was the prospect of another man that had upset Jean-Claude earlier. You take the card off of the cord, but the handwriting is still not familiar to you. You notice an indention in the card, the company name, and hold it up to the light. You find yourself smiling when you see the words.
SOULMATE ROSES �
Santa Fe