Bouquet

Chapter One

Castiel Novak ran a small flower shop in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. It was nothing special; just a corner shop full of flowers with a back room for lunch breaks. A dime a dozen.

Business was busy February fifteenth, just as it always was. Even though Valentine's Day had been the day before, there were plenty of people who had forgotten the holiday and were looking for late bouquets for their significant others.

So, when the bell above the door sounded, Castiel had headed towards the chrysanthemums.

"Forgot about yesterday?" he said, without looking at the customer. "Chrysanthemums and orchids are usually good, as well as roses...." Castiel trailed off, heading back to the counter for a scissors.

"Actually," the man said, "I need a flower that says 'fuck you.'"

"Oh-" Castiel turned to look at the man, and his breath hitched.

The man wore jeans and a hunting jacket, under which an AC/DC t-shirt was visible. He had amber hair, stubble, and hard, transfixing evergreen eyes. Evergreen eyes that were fixed on Castiel.

"Oh- right." Castiel gave a start, then headed for the other end of the shop. "Wild tansy, then, as well as St. John's Wort, pumpkin flower, basil, and- do you prefer red or white garden anemone?"

"What?" the man said.

"Red or white garden anemone?"

"No, I mean, er, what does that all mean?" the man asked awkwardly, cheeks going slightly pink.

He was quite cute, Castiel found himself thinking, when he was blushing.

"The wild tansy is for a declaration of war," he explained, "Saint John's Wort and pumpkin flower are for animosity and crudeness. Basil is hatred. Red or white garden anemone is for poison."

"Huh. Well, I'll take whichever anemone is more poisonous," the man said with a grin. "It is poisonous, right?"

"If eaten, it can cause some minor illnesses. Other than that, the worst that will happen is skin irritation from handling," Castiel told him, "If you wanted an arrangement that would kill someone, you would want nerium oleander or the castor oil plant in it."

"I take it that you don't have either of those?" the man said hopefully.

"I don't endorse murder, no," Castiel said with a small smile.

"Dammit. I'll take the red, then."

Castiel began collecting the flowers. "I take it that yesterday didn't go in your favor...?"

The man grinned wryly. "Dean. I decided yesterday would be a good day to, er, tell my girlfriend that I play for both teams. She didn't take too well to that."

So he's available, Castiel thought happily. Then he felt guilty for being thrilled about that.

"Well, Dean, if she can't accept you, then she's not worth it," Castiel said. He reached to grab a few flowers to trim the stems off of, not paying attention to the ones he was grabbing.

"Woah, wait- aren't those the poisonous ones?" Dean said, quickly grabbing Castiel's hand to pull it away from the flowers.

Castiel looked more closely at the flowers. Red garden anemone. Rarely was he so distracted that he handled those without his gloves to prevent the discomfort and itchiness that came after.

"Oh, yeah. Thank you. Forgot gloves. My bad, I'll just-" he realized that Dean was still holding his hand.

Dean seemed to realize that as well. He let go hurriedly.