Work Text:
Mortimer Mortimer leaned back in his chair as the radio droned on in the background. He was chewing on his pen as he stared at the daily crossword puzzle. God be damned, these "primitive" crossword puzzles made for fantastic leisure activities on a slow day. Well, who cares about the New York Times' opinions on crosswords anyways? Especially considering they changed their minds not more than ten years ago.
Business was slow, and Mortimer would be spending his leisure time however he damn well pleased, thank you very much. Well, not exactly leisure time, considering he was still on the job. He considered it to be leisure, considering he wasn't actually working. Well, if anyone came in, he'd have a job to do, but at the moment, it seemed like he would be in for a rather slow day.
Bading-ding-ding. Ah, speak of the devil. A young man, no older than 20, with slicked back hair walked in the door, scanning the shop with his eyes peering over his sunglasses. Mortimer sighed.
"Welcome to Fail Sister's Hospital for Animals, how may I help you?" He set his newspaper and pencil down on the desk, looking the customer up and down. He was obviously going for that new movie star look, what with the leather jacket and jeans over a t-shirt. Considering his lack of animals, Mortimer severely doubted his interest in their business. A bouquet of flowers obstructed Mortimer's vision as it was placed on the desk, he pushed it aside as he leaned forward.
The man cleared his throat before speaking, "So, about that sign outside…" he trailed off, vaguely gesturing to the front door. Mortimer quirked an eyebrow at him.
"What about it?" They'd gotten many complaints of their business over the years, truly too many to count, but their sign has never been the point of public objection.
The man shrugged towards the door once again. "Where are they?" Mortimer blinked at the man. He wasn't exactly expecting a mafia confrontation when he came down to work today. He assumed the man was speaking of the text on the sign, however unreasonably phrased it may be.
"The animals are in the back with Dr. Fail." It always felt weird to refer to John N with his last name. They'd been living together for over 20 years and yet they were still on a last name basis on the clock.
"No, no, not the animals," The man spoke in an almost hushed tone. "The sisters, where are they?" Mortimer had to refrain from pulling a face at the sentence.
"Pardon me?"
“All your sign is talking about is girls, girls, girls, and yet when I come in here it’s just… you.”
“Well what’s that supposed to mean?” Mock offense, good move Mort Mort.
“Listen, you’re a good looking guy,” Damn right. “But I can’t spend the rest of my life single.”
Mortimer let out a grin, “yeah, me neither.”
“See, you understand! Now, where are your sisters?” Mortimer had to give it to him, he was persistent.
“I’m actually an only child. Dr. Fail, however, is not. The sign is in reference to his sisters.”
“Well I’m certain he won’t mind, I’m not gonna take them from him.”
“You certainly won’t.” Maybe it was a bit rude, but Mortimer wasn’t exactly too keen on spending an extended period of time
“Excuse me?” Ever unable to take a hint, Mortimer decided he needed to spell it out for the guy.
“They’re dead.”
“Who?” He had to be joking. There’s seriously no way he looked Mortimer in the eye and asked him that question with a straight face.
“The sisters, they’re dead. They died 30 years ago.” Actually it was 27, but who’s counting?
Somehow, the man thought of this as a personal attack. “Well you could’ve told me that before you wasted my time!”
Mortimer had had about enough of this guy. “And you could’ve at least tried to pretend like you had business to conduct here instead of wasting my time.”
The man stomped his feet and planted his hands on the desk. He probably thought he looked intimidating and serious, but Mortimer just thought he looked like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “I have been trying for months to get a girl, but god be damned, they just don’t make ‘em like they used to. Y’know, my dad told me that he could walk into any old store and women would be throwing themselves at his feet,” No they wouldn’t, “But now all they want is ‘independence’ and a ‘real man’. Well I’m sick of it. I’m sick and tired of trying and trying and TRYING and falling short every time. So I thought maybe, just maybe, if I tried it the old fashioned way, I’d get a girl. But no, I get played with, mocked, spit on and thrown out. Well I won’t stand for th-”
“Yeah and you’re about to get thrown out again.”
“I wasn’t finishe-”
“I don’t care, you’re causing a scene.”
“There’s nobody here.” Ok so he had ONE good point.
“You’re distressing the animals in the other room, and frankly, you’re distressing me, and you will have to leave.” Well with every moment of justice, there are pitfalls.
“You can’t do this to me, I have rights!” There it is.
“Yes, well, so do I.” And with that, Mortimer stood up and pushed the guy over. After dragging him kicking and screaming out the door, and locking it, he made the executive decision to close up shop for the day. If not only to have an excuse to lock the door and draw the blinds, as the man he kicked out was standing on the curb, staring at him through the windows.
As he walked back to the desk to pick up his newspaper, his eyes caught on the bouquet the man had left behind. Tucking the paper under his arm, he picked up the bouquet and inspected the flower choices. A fairly standard blue bunch, blue violets, geraniums, bellflowers, and a few forget-me-nots scattered around. The obvious focal point, however, was a tall stock of lavender, sticking out from the center. Mortimer chuckled to himself as he spun the bouquet in his hands.
Mortimer walked to the door to the back room, knocking twice and waiting for a ‘Come in!’ before entering. John N gave the rabbit he was working on one last scratch behind the ear before gently placing it back into its carrier and turning to face Mortimer.
“Slow day, huh?” A grin pulled across his face before he crossed around his table to give Mortimer a kiss on the cheek.
“Of a sort.” Mortimer presented the bouquet to John N. “Had a real piece of work come in, he left this behind.”
“He wasn’t trying to romance you, was he? Because you better have told him you’re a taken man.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that, Johnny. I believe his affections lie elsewhere, no matter what the flowers say.” Mortimer pointed to the lavender, earning a laugh from John N.
“Luckily for you, I’m much more interested in what you have to say.” John N leaned into Mortimer’s arms, looking him in the eyes.
“Well we have all the time in the world to listen to each other, don’t we?”
Bading-ding-ding. The couple paused in their musings to stare at each other for a moment, before breaking into laughter.
John N broke the embrace, tapping Mortimer on the shoulder. “Well I suppose you have other duties to attend to.” Mortimer rolled his eyes before kissing John N on the cheek, and promptly walking back into the main shop.