(no subject)
Who: Soma and anyone else who wanders in.
When: Tuesday morning
Where: the flower shop
Rating: PG at worst, probably.
Warnings: Pollen!
Summary: Just another day working on the Upper Level.
Soma tucked the cut flowers into the pot and fluffed them up. This was her daily ritual. While she watered and trimmed the plants, she thought of Sir Gottwald and the Princess who had run the shop; she was just the caretaker in case they returned, really, and it would do no good if the flowers wilted or the shop became run-down while they were away. And Sergei ... if he ever came, then she should be able to show him a place he would a proud of. A well-run, clean, presentable business, filled with the all the colors of the earth. And she could always bring them home to Mao, if they didn't sell. Business had been slow lately, anyway, and filling the little white house in the woods that they shared with flowers was equally nice. It always smelled like spring.
The bell tied to the entrance chimed, and Soma turned to face the door, one hand still on the cool stem of the vase, damp clippers in her other hand. "Hello?"
When: Tuesday morning
Where: the flower shop
Rating: PG at worst, probably.
Warnings: Pollen!
Summary: Just another day working on the Upper Level.
Soma tucked the cut flowers into the pot and fluffed them up. This was her daily ritual. While she watered and trimmed the plants, she thought of Sir Gottwald and the Princess who had run the shop; she was just the caretaker in case they returned, really, and it would do no good if the flowers wilted or the shop became run-down while they were away. And Sergei ... if he ever came, then she should be able to show him a place he would a proud of. A well-run, clean, presentable business, filled with the all the colors of the earth. And she could always bring them home to Mao, if they didn't sell. Business had been slow lately, anyway, and filling the little white house in the woods that they shared with flowers was equally nice. It always smelled like spring.
The bell tied to the entrance chimed, and Soma turned to face the door, one hand still on the cool stem of the vase, damp clippers in her other hand. "Hello?"