Chapter Text
Spring. A wonderful time for flowers. The majority of them are in bloom, opening their petals up and showing their colors. When it’s a wonderful time for flowers, that also means it’s a wonderful time for love. Flowers are a love language, the real meaning of words they convey hidden carefully behind bright color petals that burst back into color after long, dreary winters. That’s why it’s always been Simmons’ favorite time of year. Now that he works at his friend’s flower shop, there’s really nothing like seeing the whole place come alive with so many brightly colored flowers as far as the eye could see.
Truth be told, Simmons didn’t always want to be a florist. Originally his aspirations had been to work in an office, unassuming as possible. Just enough to impress his father and pay the bills. But he ended up being so unfulfilled and unhappy in his daily life. Simmons would stay at home, depressed, bored, restless, and waiting for something - anything - to make his days different. Right as he was about to spiral, his current boss and long time friend, Donut, stepped in and offered him an out.
It wouldn’t pay a lot, but there was no one else he would trust more than Simmons; that’s what Donut said when he tried to get him on board. Donut’s always been intuitive, always was able to see through Simmons even when he couldn’t talk about his feelings. Simmons needed a change and trusted his friend. So he let Donut teach him everything there is to know about flowers.
“You’re overthinking this, Wash,” Donut’s voice interrupts his thoughts and causes Simmons to look up from where he was misting the flowers with water. The redhead looks over at him and his other co-worker, Washington. Donut has one hand on his hip and the other flat on a catalogue in front of him. “Her favorite color is red, right? And you want to tell her a message that would align with so many red flowers. It’s the color of romance, passion!”
“I don’t want to choose the wrong one,” Washington stresses as he wipes his hands on his apron that proudly bears their little shop’s logo, “There’s a lot I could go with, Donut, and this is very important to me.”
Donut makes a sympathetic face, and motions him over to one of their showcases of flowers. He plucks out a rose he dethorned earlier. “Roses are always a safe choice if you want to confess to someone. Red roses are the picture of romantic love and affection. Or you could go with carnations, tulips,” He gestures to those flowers as well, before stopping in front of a flower that’s drawn Simmons' attention since Donut first brought it in. “You could go with a red orchid. They’re beautiful, passionate,” Donut gently thumbs one of the petals, “Expensive. I am a sucker for love, Wash, but I would make you pay for this one.”
Wash stares at the flower, enraptured by it’s petals. “Do you think Carolina would like it?”
Donut grins at him, friendly and helpful, “Who wouldn’t? If someone bought me that, I’d swoon!”
Simmons slides his way over into the conversation, trying to act more natural than he feels about butting in. “So,” He starts, his fake nonchalance being easily seen through, “You’re buying flowers? For Carolina? Confession flowers?”
“Simmons-” Wash wrinkles his nose as he starts but is interrupted by Donut who claps and beams so bright the sides of his eyes crinkle in genuine joy, “Yep! Wash is finally doing it! I’m all for it!”
Wash looks nervous, tired too, but mostly nervous. “We’ve been through a lot together, ya’know,” He sighs and scratches the back of his neck, “I don’t know, I’m still not entirely convinced it’s a good idea. Neither Carolina and I are good at this whole thing.”
“What ‘whole thing’?” Simmons asks, “Not being scary?”
“Being vulnerable, Simmons.” Wash frowns, shakes his head, “Plus it’s probably one sided.”
“That’s crazy talk, mister. You’re the most important people to each other! You’re best friends, for pete’s sake. You know each other inside and out,” Simmons glances away, unable to think of anything except his own best friend, “If she says no, she doesn’t know what she’s missing out on. You’re a great guy, and I’m saying that even though you’ve really given it to me rough in the past.”
Simmons clears his throat.
Some of the tension melts out of Wash’s shoulders. A small smile creeps onto his face at their boss’ familiar antics. “Donut, you said another innuendo.”
“Oh, gash darn it!” Donut furrows his eyebrows and frowns, “I’ve been doing so well.”
“So you’re going to go to the shop?” Simmons changes the subject, turning more to Wash. He stands up straighter now. “Because I’ve also been meaning to go over there-”
Speak of the devil, before Simmons can get another word in, two very familiar faces walk in. The respective best friends for two of the employees at this little flower shop. Carolina, who walks in wearing a cyan tank top, showing her very muscled arms covered in intricate tattoo sleeves, and Grif, who is wearing an old faded rock t-shirt and a pair of well-loved sweats.
All three of the men by their flowers instantly shut their mouths.
“What’s wrong? It looks like you guys got caught trying to plan a murder,” Carolina remarks as she steps further into the shop. When there is no immediate response by anyone, she glances at her companion, Grif. “Maybe they are planning murder.”
Simmons, Wash, and Donut all exchange varying looks of bewildered guilt. Donut bounces back quickest though, and laughs smarmily at their unexpected guest as he makes his way back to their little check-out counter. “We’re not planning anything,” He almost seems like he’s finished, then his eyes dart to Wash and he tacts on, “Anything like murder!”
Carolina raises an eyebrow at him, a smirk playing on her face. “So you are planning something?”
Grif makes his way to Simmons’ side, where he usually ends up, and nudges him in the side. “What’s going on here?” He whispers as he raises a finger and motions it back and forth across Carolina and Donut.
“Wash is planning on confessing to Carolina,” Simmons leans closer to him as he whispers back.
Grif makes a noise of approval and gives a stiff nod, “Oh. Finally.”
“Right?” Simmons snorts as he glances as Wash, who sends the pair of them a half mortified, half embarrassed look.
After a long suffering sigh, Washington moves away from Grif and Simmons and back toward the counter. “So, Donut, about how much would you typically charge for the flower we were talking about earlier?”
Donut hums, wiping his hands on the apron. “Usually I would charge around $60 for a flower like that, but since we’re friends, and I’m so proud of you, I’ll give it to you for $58!”
“Gee, what a discount,” Wash deadpans as he fishes out his wallet.
Donut smiles so wide at him that his eyes crinkle. “You’re a very important friend of mine, and I love you.”
As Washington pays for his flower, Grif cocks his head at Simmons. “What is he buying here that would possibly cost 60 bones? Like a rare sparkling jewel?”
“For 60 bucks?” Simmons snorts, “Gotta be a pretty shitty jewel.”
Grif makes a humming noise, contemplating his words. “Or a really small one.”
“Do you know how much the smallest of diamonds go for, dumbass?”
“Oh yeah. I guess you’re right,” Grif gives a nonchalant shrug. “For real, though, what is he buying?”
Simmons spins back around to face the flowers. He motions to the large extravagant flower that his colleague is in the midst of purchasing. “An orchid,” He explains with more awe than intended.
Grif turns around to look at it too. Simmons always thinks the way Grif interacts with all their flowers is funny. He holds his hands behind his back and leans together carefully, almost like if he gets to close he’s going to fuck them all up and make them wilt instantly. “It’s pretty,” Grif comments.
‘It means love, luxury, beauty, strength,” Simmons pauses, his green eyes flicker over to Carolina for only a few seconds before settling back to Grif, “He was looking for the right flower to help him and that’s the one he settled on. I don’t think it would have been my first choice, but it’s a good flower.”
Grif’s eyebrows furrow, “What would have been your first choice?”
But before Simmons can answer, Washington goes and gets his flower. He rolls the stem against his palm for a few moments. He looks nervous, but his eyes are soft and there is this air of unspoken, unshakable determination about him that Simmons finds inspiring. Maybe if he had a bit more guts he could...
Simmons glances over at Grif, who looks back at him with an unreadable expression.
“Carolina?” Wash starts slowly. He turns, presents her with the flower he holds in his hand. Carolina’s bright green eyes dart from his eyes, to the flower, and back again. She doesn’t say anything yet, just slowly takes the greenery from his fingers.
“What’s this for?” She questions, voice teetering between playful and meaningful in a way that tells Simmons all he needs to know about the outcome of all this.
“Carolina, we’ve been through so much together. We’ve walked through hell and come back stronger because of it. I’ve followed your lead through the good and the bad and you’ve made me stronger, better,” Wash takes a breath. “You’re my best friend, and I’m really lucky to know you, Carolina. I think - no, I know - I’m in love with you. And I think that’s just normal. I mean, how could I not be. After everything we’ve done, everything we’ve been through. It’s just a normal statement at this point. It’s like saying that the sky is blue! I love you. I trust you, and I love you.”
“Oh my god,” Donut whispers very quietly, “That rhymed.”
Wash continues, heedless of his small interruption, “And also, you’re, you’re, you’re,” He’s looking for the right words now. His eyes - a more subdued shade of green than Carolina’s bright bright eyes - dart around for a few moments before landing on his gift from before. “You’re like an orchid! It’s beauty, strength,” he pauses for a beat and then adds on, “love. That’s you, Elizabeth. That’s all you. I admire that, and I love you.”
Carolina’s bright green eyes are wide as she takes a step closer. Seemingly subconsciously, she presses the orchid to her chest. She looks lost for words for a moment before she gives a small smile, blooming on her face like the petals on the flower held in her grip. Her breathing is a little off too, like the words physically knocked the wind out of her. “Wash. David. Can we go talk somewhere?”
Wash looks downtrodden for a moment as he nods, but Carolina walks closer to him and reassures him. “It’s not bad. The only thing is, you did this all in front of the Reds.”
“Oh,” Wash blinks, as the mortifying realization sets in. Then his face starts to color a nice shade of red - much like the three he just gave a very serious confession in front of. “Oh. I, um, I got a little carried away there.”
“Yeah,” Carolina says, amused. Calmly, she motions to the door, “So, should we go somewhere with less people?”
“Please,” Grif begs but he sounds pretty sardonic about it.
Wash sends a glare toward Grif, but then turns back to Carolina and nods. They both exit the flower shop and leave the three Reds in their wake.
“Donut,” Simmons turns to his friend and also boss, “I think I’m gonna take the rest of the day off.”
Donut blinks, once, twice before giving Simmons an affirming nod. “Alright! It has been a pretty hectic day. I’m sure I can hold down the fort here. If not, I can always ask Lopez if he wants to come in with me!”
“How would he help at all? He doesn’t work here and speaks only in Spanish,” Grif points out, raising one of his eyebrows at Simmons’ co-worker.
Donut doesn’t respond though, and instead pulls on a large pair of gardening gloves.
Simmons smiles, shaking his head with as much affection for his friend as he can muster. He turns back to Grif, then, and points directly at him. “I’m gonna grab my stuff, but you stay here. I need to talk to you.”
“In Donut’s shop?”
“Yes. Where else would you wait? Mars?”
“Okay,” Grif's laugh is tinted by an odd amount of nerves, “Just make sure it isn’t like what we just saw with Wash and Carolina.”
“I can’t believe they just fucking did that in the middle of the store. With people in it, no less!” Simmons shakes his head, “And it was so serious. Not even played up for laughs. I don’t know what Wash was thinking.”
Grif, gravely serious, shakes his head solemnly, “We may never know, Simmons. We may never know.”
“Promise me we’ll never be on that level of Blue Bullshit.”
“I promise Simmons,” Grif clutches a hand over his heart and tries his hardest to act stricken, “I promise.”
“Good,” Simmons says with a smile, and then a sudden, “Wait. I need to grab my things. I’ll be right back.” As if he just remembers that he was in the middle of doing something other than just standing around and talking to Grif and slowly starts to walk backwards into the employees only part where they keep their things.
As he grabs his things, he can’t help but feel … jealous? Proud? A mixture of the two. Wash did something that Simmons doesn’t think he’d ever be able to do, despite knowing Grif for such a long time. Then again, Wash and Carolina’s history was long and complicated. Something big and serious that commanded attention was just fitting for them. Maybe it was a Blue thing.
Simmons slides his fingers over his left wrist nervously. He would never be able to do something like that, but maybe his own method would still get the message across.