A Dozen Is Never Enough

He couldn't believe how many florists didn't sell black roses after Halloween. Well if he thought about it he could, but this was not the time for thought, not if he wanted them for tomorrow. He sighed resignedly and dialed the phone again.

"Hello, do you sell black roses...No…I'm not joking…yes I'm sure…Pink?...Only if I had a death wish…no…bye," he hung up and dejectedly flung the phone back onto the table.

Crossing another name off of his list, he contemplated the situation angrily. That was another thing he couldn't believe; how many people thought he was kidding. He looked down the list of florists he had copied out of the phone book. There were two names left. All he had wanted was to do something nice for her birthday, and he couldn't find any freaking black roses. He dialed the phone again.

"Hello…black roses…I'm not kidding…bye," at least it had been a short conversation, he thought, crossing yet another name off of the list. One last chance, it rang twice before being answered.

"Hi, I need two dozen black roses…You do?…You can?…Tomorrow, eight am, right, thanks!" He should have known that the last place he called would have them.


(The Next Morning)


When Abby walked into her lab there were two dozen black roses, waiting for her. She squealed and ran over to them, searching for a card. She found one, and in messy black pen it read:

Abby-
Because a dozen is never enough

There was no name, not that someone like Abby needed one, but it would have been nice. She sighed, smiling, and scanned the card for fingerprints.


The elevator dinged, but Tony didn't look up, pretending to be engrossed in his work. He still didn't look up, even when he heard her heavy combat boots clunking out of the elevator. Thud-thud-thud-thud-Crash! Finally he looked up, to see her sprawled on the floor.

Laughing, he stood, and pulled her to her feet. Once she was standing again, she threw her arms around him in a bear hug.

"Happy birthday, Abs," he said breathlessly; she was squeezing the air out of his lungs. Finally, she let go.

"Here," she said, bending down to retrieve the flowers she had dropped, "Twelve for you, twelve for me." He stared at her, as she pulled a vase from seemingly no where, "How did you know?" he asked embarrassed.

"Don't be stupid, I got your prints off the card. Forensic scientist-duh!" she answered smiling. She gave him a light kiss on the lips, and left him looking dazed, with a vase of twelve black roses on his desk.

…A dozen is never enough…