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"Delivery for Doctor Ro-bot-nik?"
"Agent Robotnik."
"Agent, I apologize, sir..." Flower Boy meekly said, and held out the bouquet.
The agent blankly stared at him. "You're far too young for me."
Flower Boy squeaked embarrassedly. "They're not from me... I just deliver them, sir."
Ivo snatched the bouquet out of his hands and ran his fingertips over the delicate petals.
"From who?" He asked.
Flower Boy shrugged. "It says 'Secret Admirer.'"
Maybe this was an elaborate prank. Who would send him flowers? No one liked him, or tolerated him, or enjoyed his presence enough to even be called a friend. He mumbled "Thank you." to Flower Boy and promptly shut the door in his face.
Ivo quickly darted his eyes around the vicinity, making sure his doctor wasn't anywhere around before tentatively bringing the bouquet up to his nose and smelling it. The aroma was sweet, like softener and Tide on a damp bed-sheet. It was... nice. Sure, the water poorly contained in the plastic wrapping at the bottom was dripping onto his gloves, and he didn't know if Stone had a vase, but the gesture was kind. Maybe someone had taken pity on him, or he had accidentally signed up for a free bouquet...
"Agent?" Ivo lurched at the Doctor's sudden appearance. He hadn't been standing there ten seconds ago - the man was like a damn cat.
"That's a very nice bouquet," Stone smiled, sending butterflies into Ivo's stomach, fluttering through his throat and crowding his mouth so that he couldn't speak. "Could I see it?"
Against his better judgement, Ivo handed the flowers to his doctor, who pored over the petals like a textbook, words lining each cell wall.. Stone looked up at the agent. "Red carnations..." he mumbled under his breath, very visibly hiding a smile. "Last I checked my Pinterest account, these meant love, distinction, and admiration. Looks like you've got a fan, Robotnik."
He shook his head. "Highly unlikely, Doctor, I can't think of a single person who thinks any of those things about me in a kind way, let alone romantic." If Ivo didn't know better, he'd say Stone looked momentarily crestfallen at his words, but his expression changed nearly immediately.
"...Would you like a vase?"
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The 'vase' - an unused plastic pitcher - balanced on Ivo's desk, The damn thing had been distracting him nearly all afternoon. He reacher over to the vase and plucked a thick flower off of it's stem, fidgeting with it in his hands.
The base of the flower was sturdy yet flexible, with stretch marks of various shades of green adorning it. The plant was outstandingly beautiful, he had to admit. The crimson flower stood out in front of his black gloves, it's delicate petals folded into each-other like a newspaper whose title was "Love, Distinction, Admiration!"
Boredly, he plucked off a petal and rolled it into mush between his fingers. Someone admired him? That couldn't be right, these flowers couldn't mean that... maybe in another country, red carnations meant someone wanted you to die.
"Love, distinction, admiration." Ivo mumbled. He mushed the petal-ball and wiped it on the stem of the flower.
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The next day, the same thing happened again. Flower Boy was a different underpaid teenager (and also a girl) but the bouquet ended up in Ivo's hands all the same. This time, the bright-pink flowers came with their own thick glass vase, and two sauce-sized packets of plant food had been pushed into his hand.
Ivo shut the door with his foot, balancing the heavy vase and the slippery packets, turned around, and yelped at the sight of Stone about two feet behind him.
"Doctor, stop sneaking up on me like that." He sighed, walking into the kitchen to set the bouquet. Stone followed silently. Ivo turned around, watching the doctor admire the flowers similarly to how he did the first time.
"Do you know who sent these yet?" Stone asked, gazing at him from the corner of his big brown eyes. Ivo shook his head. "No, sir."
The doctor bit his cheek and gently tilted a flower towards him, twirling the stem in the vase. "Someone must really like you to send a whole vase... I wonder how they know I don't have a proper one. And they always send it here. How come these aren't delivered to your house?"
"I like that someone who doesn't tell me who they are doesn't know where I live," Ivo cut the packet of plant food and shook it into the vase. It seemed like a very intricate design, with glass ridges on the sides and a floral-like design at the top.
Ivo couldn't shake the feeling of Stone watching him run his hands over the vase's intricacies, and he was glad he was busy thumbing through the petals like a book so he couldn't see his face heating up.
"Do you know what these ones symbolize, agent?" He asked.
Dumbly, Ivo shook his head 'no'. The doctor's face lit up, and he gently held the stem of one baby pink flower. "This is a pink camellia," He looked up to meet his agent's eyes, then back down at the flower, barely hiding his smile. "It's for longing."
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Ivo hadn't been surprised on the third day when he answered the door and was met with a teenager who wordlessly shoved an armful of purple flowers into his hands. He took the bouquet into the kitchen and removed a pair of scissors from the drawer, beginning to cut the butcher wrap that encased the flowers, when he nearly cut a purple-ribboned tag tied with a bow around the stem of the flowers.
He set down the scissors on the countertop and untied the bow, pulling off the tag. Written in neat cursive, it read:
Geraniums, meaning stupidity. XOXO, Doctor Stone.