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inafieldofdaisies · 7 months

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WIP Wednesday | Tagged by @direwombat ❤️

Midweek check-in. We're jumping into Chapter 3 of John and Sabrina's AU with a little snippet where he's doing a great job of picking flowers for her while Leslie and Oliver become partners in crime.

A faint ringing pulled John out of his slumber, making him turn on his side away from the sunlight coming into the room through the half-open curtains. When the sound persisted, he reached a hand to the nightstand and grabbed the hotel room phone's receiver, holding it up to his ear, face still buried in his pillow. "Hello?", he croaked out, voice raspy. "Mr. Duncan, there's a delivery in the lobby for you." "What time is it?" "10 am, sir.", the man on the other line announced matter-of-factly. Of course. His usual alarm hadn't woken him up, resulting in him oversleeping, but reality was that he was stuck in another city with a cleared out schedule. He suspected by the following Friday, he wouldn't know what to do with himself, deemed a workaholic by many. Still, compared to everything else he had faced so far, that predicament seemed insignificant. "I will be right down in a bit." He quickly freshened up after the call ended, and with a final look at the vase with flowers the bat had knocked down the previous night, he left the room.

Downstairs, the lobby was relatively busy, his gaze running over the guests piling in and out of the hotel as he approached the welcome desk. "Morning.", he uttered out in a greeting, reminding himself he needed to grab a coffee. "Morning.", the younger man at the reception echoed back. "I was told there's a delivery for me." "Yes, yes.", he gestured to a couple of bags behind the counter, "Would you like me to call someone to help you with those?" "No.", John retorted quickly, feeling in no mood to interact with people so soon after waking up, "I wanted to ask…" "Yes, Mr. Duncan?" "Are there any flower shops you would recommend?" The man wasted no time in retrieving a notepad and jotting down an address for him, "It's three blocks away, most of our guests use their services." "Thank you."

With the small piece of paper tucked safely into his pocket, he picked up the bags and divided them between his hands, which in turn made pressing the button to call the elevator a challenge. "We meet again.", a hand appeared to his right and did it for him before the woman he had run into at the prison moved next to him as they waited for the elevator to arrive. "Ms. Donovan." A smirk marred her face while she went to fix her hair that wasn't out of place to begin with, each auburn curl falling over her shoulders perfectly to a point it seemed unnatural, "Look at that, you remembered." Kind of hard not to, when you have the same last name as the woman I like. Like?

He ignored the word and sent her a polite smile as they stepped into the elevator. It was beyond obvious that Candice intentionally chose to stand closer to him, or as close as his purchases would allow in the empty space. The fact she immediately pressed the button to the third floor was another unpleasant sight. "Which floor, Mr. Duncan?" "Fifth.", he lied seamlessly, knowing it would be best if she didn't know his room number.

"How did your meeting go?", she asked and glaced at him from the corner of her eye. "It didn't. There was a setback." "Oh, my.", she exclaimed, curiosity seeping into her tone and making her bright green eyes light with intrigue, "That's awful, darling." John shook his head, his attention returning to the floor indicator, "Hardly something that would discourage me. I have a new appointment, so everything is in order, Ms. Donovan." "Well,", the doors pinged, signaling they had reached the third floor, and John had to remind himself he shouldn't exit despite his instinct telling him to, "if you do face any trouble… you can give me a call, and we will find a desirable solution, I pressume you still have my card." He pushed down the urge to snarl at how she said "desirable", the innuendo, and her intentions behind the "friendly" suggestion for help being as clear as day to him. She wanted to do him a favor, and in return, he'd be indebted to her. And if he had to bet, it wouldn't be as simple as spending a night in her bed. No, when a woman like Candice Donovan would sink her teeth into someone she had set her sights on, she wouldn't just let go, at least not before having her fill and certainly not without ripping out their throat once she was finished. "I appreciate that.", he forced another well-practiced grin as she stepped out and waved him an elegant goodbye. Her heels resonated down the long hallway as she strutted away from him, no doubt putting on a show. Everything about her appearance was adeptly selected: from her designer heels to the emerald green dress that accentuated her curves and showed enough cleavage to draw in a man's gaze while still keeping her pretense of class. John breathed out a sigh of relief when the doors closed, and he found himself on his own again. Fuck. Just what I needed… her being on the same floor. He knew without a shadow of a doubt he had to avoid Candice like the plague, even more after this lie and the way it could only further fuel the interest of someone like her.

Once the elevator got down to his floor again, he hurried back to his room, fearing with his luck, he would end up running into her if he took too long. He quickly dropped off his bags by the door and went back down to the lobby, making a stop at the reception on his way out. "Hello." "How can I help, sir?", the man's gaze shifted away from the monitor and up to him. John straightened his back, leaning against the desk in a pose he often used when addressing judges during sidebars and usually yielded success in whatever he was arguing, "I would like a room change." The hotel receptionist pursed his lips, "I'm afraid that won't be possible. We're fully booked, Mr. Duncan. Is there an issue with your room?" Against his better judgment, his hand strayed to his chin to rub his beard, something a trained eye like Candice's would take as a hint of weakness, "No. Thank you." He made a move to leave, then remembered the broken vase, "One more thing, yesterday night a bat flew in and knocked off a vase off the dining table." "I'm sorry, sir.", concern washed oved the man's features, "Is it still inside? Do I need to call animal control?" "No.", John couldn't help a prideful smile from emerging, "I made sure it made its way back out." Technically speaking, he had done just that. With some help at concocting a plan of action and further moral support from Sabrina. "I'm glad to hear that, sir." John left the hotel, convincing himself his streak of bad luck would eventually end, that making it to his destination without running into any trouble was doable.

A stroll in his new shoes felt like a mistake after almost getting drenched multiple times thanks to cars driving full speed through puddles formed after last night's late rain. Still, waiting on a driver God knew how long and then asking them to take him to a place that was within walking distance was a bit of an overkill, even for him. Breathing in some fresh air seemed like a good idea, too. A couple of minutes later, after almost passing the flower shop thanks to his thoughts hopelessly drifting back to Sabrina, John found himself in front of it just as a man pushed through its doors, seeming in quite the rush to leave. It didn't take long to figure out the reason for his hasty escape. The moment he entered the store, instead of the usual polite greeting he would have expected, he was met by a horror movie worthy shriek that pierced his ears before a bouquet flew at his head. The sudden sting in his forehead told him his hands weren't fast enough to stop the bundle of flowers in its tracks as shock overtook him. "You have the audacity to come back? After you break things off with me on OUR wedding day!", a female hollered his way as the bouquet landed at his feet, her eyes glazed over with anger to a point the mistaken identity hadn't even registered to her. The violent outburst was followed by tears that threatened to undo all the work her makeup artist must have put into her look, and the only thing he could do was blink in surprise when she flew past him, and out of the shop.

"Mister, are you okay?", a woman close to his age broke him out of his daze, "I'm so sorry." "I-", he shook his head and moved further in, overwhelmed by the mix of fragrances that attacked his senses, "I have no idea what just happened." "Wedding drama.", the woman sighed, focused on an arrangement she was working on. Assault more like it. And she fled the scene. "Anything catching your eye?", she spoke up again, finally shifting his attention to him fully as he regarded the premade bouquets and rolls of vases filled with various type of flowers. "A bouquet. Red roses. And I would like to have it delivered today." A part of him argued he had no idea what flowers Sabrina preferred, but red roses were the option he always went with and none of his past lovers ever seemed disappointed in the choice. Quite the opposite, in fact - the gesture inarguably yielded the desired result each time he would task Penny with sending them to a woman. Having a PA to take care of his every whim including sparing him the hassle to go down to the florist's personally certainly came in handy anytime he would cave in and entertain the side of him yearning for a female's touch, but after the drunk call, he was forced to make the trip himself for once. "You're in luck then, you caught our morning window for deliveries.", the florist announced as she began selecting roses for the bouquet. "How many roses, sir?" John paused, unsure of how many Penny would get normally, "60?" The woman bit back a smile, "It must be a special someone. I would advise trying to avoid getting it hurled at your person, though." "She is, yes. And I will keep that in mind." Especially for still entertaining me after getting a call in the middle of the night and staying on the phone while my room was under siege by a bat. But telling any of that to a stranger seemed like oversharing, so he settled for a simple answer instead. She reached underneath the counter and produced an empty card and a pen for him, "How about you fill this out for her while I'm preparing the bouquet?"

"Thank you.", the plain piece of paper in his hand gave him a pause, then his mind drifted back to the night Sabrina had given him a ride, "Do you by chance have a card with butterflies on it or something close?" The florist smiled as she set aside the roses she had gathered and crouched down behind the counter, presenting him with way too many options to choose from. "Ask me what I don't have.", she added with a laugh. His fingers shifted through the cards, each seeming way too colorful and like it would clash with the simple bouquet until he came across one that screamed Sabrina. The inky black butterfly catching his eye so much that looking at the others seemed pointless. "This one.", he announced then moved away to give her space to work on his bouquet and settled at the far end of the counter, leaning forward on his elbows as he contemplated what he should write inside. It was another thing Penny took care of for him. "You have such a way with words, John.", his date would whisper and stroke his hand, eyes full of awe while he'd smirk, not having the slightest clue what his PA had even written to begin with. He never bothered to ask, all he cared about was it was working. What do I say? Minutes ticked by where he came up empty after overthinking every idea that would pop up in his mind and deeming it inappropriate. Finally, he forced himself to put pen to paper, writing a simple, "Thank you for last night. - J"

Once the bouquet was finished and he paid for it, he left the shop, feeling content he had done something without Penny's help. The flowers were on their way to Sabrina's precinct, and his morning had started quite uneventful aside from encountering Candice and being hit in the face by a bouquet an angry soon-or-not-so-soon bride-to-be threw at him. He didn't want to think if that granted bad luck in opposition to catching it after a wedding ceremony. He crossed the road with his sights set on a small cafe across the street from the flower shop. He was going to have breakfast while he waited for Sabrina to call, the idea of their date fueling his good mood despite the dull pain in his temple.

"We're heading out, boys.", Graham Ross said as he and his partner at the Missing Persons Division, Vaughn, set on following up a lead. "Good luck.", Oliver retorted as the door shut behind them and he let out a yawn, spinning around in his chair to face Leslie, "So… you can tell me now." "Don't start, McKenzie." "What did she say?" Leslie sighed, "I just know you won't be able to keep your mouth shut, she knows it too, which is why,", he pointed at the younger detective, "she was hesitant to share anything about the guy in front of you." "I won't, pinky promise.", Oliver raised his pinky for good measure as he took a sip of coffee. "She likes him.", Parish hoped the shrug he gave was nonchalant enough, still trying to wrap his head around the fact Sabrina was showing interest in someone, let alone an attorney. "Look at you, stating the obvious. Give me something more, buddy, that's like telling me water's wet." He rubbed his neck, wondering how much was safe to disclose, but still knowing Oliver wouldn't do anything to actually hurt her, rather wanted his curiosity to be fed. "John", the name rolled off his tongue, leaving a bitter taste in its wake, "lifted one of her business cards so he can have her number and is now texting her." Oliver whistled, "See, I knew the whole "NOT MY GIRLFRIEND" had its intent. And Rina isn't creeped out?" "Nope."

He pursed his lips, "Who knew she'd go for a hotshot attorney from all people, especially with Candy being in that field. Though there was something about him that just seemed… off." Leslie snorted as he leaned back in his chair, "Off? As in?" "It was like his charm was only surface level. You will see when you meet him." "He asked her out.", Oliver raised an eyebrow at his words, "And not directly." "Meaning?" "Decided to act sleek and 'check' if she has any recommendations for lunch spots." "So smooth.", Oliver said, voice dripping with sarcasm and making him let out a laugh. "And she thought it was an innocent question, went as far to argue with me, Ollie… how he just wanted to eat somewhere nice. Couldn't look me in the eye when she finally saw his next text asking her to 'grab lunch'." McKenzie swiveled in his chair lightly, mug clutched between his hands as he contemplated the story, "Did she agree?" "No idea. We were in and out of interviews the whole day yesterday and by the time I got home, I pretty much passed out." "There's more, Parish…" Leslie shook his head, "Not really." "Sure, sure, and I was born yesterday." "I might have told her to go out with him." The confession made Oliver choke on his coffee, sputtering, "Come again." "You heard me."

"Jesus, Leslie.", he gave him a pitiful look, "You like her, why would you do that? You basically opened the door to someone else getting in her pants. Law pun not intended, but damn." "Ollie." "What? You think he won't be trying to? My bet is he was probably rubbing one out the second he was on his own." "I want her to be happy. And this… ain't giving me much hope for the guy." Oliver tsk-tsked in disapproval, "Just saying it how I see it. And you, my friend... need to get your shit together before someone else takes the empty spot in her life, same one you've been eyeing like a sad puppy since the moment she first walked in here. Then you can both be happy and I get to be your best man." "That ship has long sailed, we all know it." He got one of McKenzie's signature eyerolls, "And you don't know how to swim? Board that motherfucker, Parish." "I'm fine with my role, Ollie.", Leslie said eventually, "Plus. He has no chance in the long run." "Why's that?" "Rina's been waiting for someone." A chuckle escaped Oliver, "Aren't we all?" "And she's adamant about it. John just doesn't know he would be fighting a losing battle." Sabrina herself had told him as much when he had finally admitted he had feelings for her, confessing she wasn't over some man she had met long time ago, that she would never be. "Ooof, his poor ego." "Yeah. It would die a gruesome death."

Oliver opened his mouth to most likely crack another joke at the lawyer's expense when a knock sounded at the door before an young man peeked inside their division. "Morning. I have a delivery here.", he announced in a rush, "Flowers for a Miss Donovan? I was told to bring them up here by the front desk…" Leslie stared at the enormous bouquet of blood red roses he held, his expresson of disbelief no doubt matching Oliver's. McKenzie was the first the jump to his feet, and with his desk being the closest to the doorway, he erased the distance between it and the delivery guy in a couple of strides, "She's out, but I will take them." "Thank you.", the man passed him a cupboard from under his arm, "Sign here, please." Oliver scribbled his signature quickly, shooting a dramatic look towards Parish when he took the flowers in his hands. "Have a nice day.", the man called out and left as quickly as he had appeared. "There's a card in the sea of roses, Leslie.", McKenzie reported, eyes shining with dangerous curiosity. Leslie rose up from his seat and met him halfway, "Don't." But it was too late, Oliver had already transfered the bouquet to him as he plucked the card from it and opened it. "Boundaries, Ollie."

"'Thank you for last night, signed J.'", he read out loud, hollering a laugh at the last part, "Holy shit. He did not just-" "I could have gone without hearing that, Oliver.", Leslie ripped the card out of his fingers and shoved it back between a roll of roses, then turned, fully intending to place the flowers on her desk and forget about the words just read to him. Instead his feet carried him over to his own, and before he could think better of his actions or question what awful spell had fallen over him, he dropped the bouquet in the waste bin by it with a snarl. It was the black butterfly on the card that set him off and the realization it matched the two Sabrina had tattooed on her clavicle, proving "last night" could mean one thing. Oliver let out a laugh, gaze casted downward, "Jesus, talk about an extra fucker, it can’t even fit halfway in the trashcan. How many roses do you think that is? And do we think he's compensating for something else with the size of that bouquet?" "An extensive number. Blatant overkill. He's showing off, plain and simple." "Yeah. The card couldn't be more on the nose, either." "Don't remind me.", Leslie gritted out and pushed the flowers further in with his shoe, "What kind of man sends flowers to a woman with that message? At her workplace." "Maybe… it's not what it looks like?", Oliver didn't sound convinced by his own words at all, "Yeah, who am I kidding." "And she'd hate it.", it was a matter of fact statement, "Roses aren't even her favorite."

"Board that ship, because that fucker is already at the helm. But worry not, we can wash away his look of victory when we throw him back into the ocean." "You sure are going hard for those pirate metaphors, Ollie." "You started it." "What are you two up to?", Sabrina's voice made both of them jump in surprise as Leslie reacted quickly and kicked the waste bin under his desk before sinking back into his chair like nothing had happened. Oliver followed suit by taking a seat at the edge of his desk, his body obstructing her view of the flowers further. She made her way to her desk, clutching a folder close to her chest, completely oblivious to the fact they had done something bad. Sabrina faced them with a small smile, and Leslie didn't dare to wonder if it was thanks to her night with- No. Don't go there. "Lab's finally done. We got a match, now only to put out a BOLO.", she was beaming with those news, "We're getting closer, Leslie." Oliver and Leslie shared a look while she shrugged off her coat and sat down, turning her computer back on. "You're both awfully quiet. What happened?" "Nothing.", Parish said first. McKenzie in turn crossed his arms over his chest, sending a knowing smirk his way before asking, "So how was your night, Rina?" "Hmm?", Sabrina glanced at him briefly, feigning confusion, "Boring?" "That so?" "Yeah.", the fact her gaze remained glued to her monitor didn't help matters while Oliver pushed for more intel despite a warning kick from Leslie. "Boring how?"

"What are you up to, Oliver?" "Just answer the question, Sabrina.", Oliver retorted playfully, "We're bonding." She rolled her eyes, but entertained his excuse, "Boring as in, it's what I do every night - went home, made Sav dinner, crashed for the night." Silence took over the room, filled only by the clicking of her keyboard as she put up the BOLO for their suspect, and Leslie almost spilled his coffee over his jeans when Oliver broke it, "And what about our lawyer friend?" "John?" "Yes. You have any other lawyers thirsting for your attention?" "Hilarious. What about him?" Did you see him last night? Why is he sending you an obnoxious number of flowers as the most distasteful display of gratitude for sleeping with him? Thankfully, neither of them asked her that, instead Oliver went for a safer question, "Heard from him yet?" Sabrina groaned, "Leslie, you told him, didn't you?" "That he asked you out for lunch?", he wiggled his eyebrows, "Sure, he snitched, you can spank him for it later, but it wouldn't have been too hard to figure out on my own, Rina. My senses were tingling from the second the rich fucker walked in to report his luggage stolen." "Fuck.", she uttered out suddenly, pushing back her chair as she rummaged through her bag for something until she pulled out her phone, "Lunch. I will be right back." "Leslie.", Oliver whispered under his breath as they watched her rush out of the room, "I think it won't be as easy as throwing him overboard, matey. I haven't seen her run like that for anything that's not a case update."

Leslie's eyes narrowed, hating he was voicing the exact thing he had noticed, and the hand McKenzie rested on his shoulder for moral support. "Chin up, buddy.", his lips quirked up, "For what it's worth, he can take her out on a date, but you can take him out, literally. And me... I own a shovel." The door opening again prompted Oliver to resume his previous pose against the desk as Sabrina returned and put her coat back on. "Where are you off to, Rina?", he sing-songed, twirling one of Leslie's pens between his fingers. "Uh,", she cleared her throat, "I'm going out for lunch, guys." The announcement resulted in another pointed look from him aimed at Parish while Sabrina herself seemed far away, probably already out of the building in her mind. When neither said anything out loud, she bit her lip, growing uncertain, "I will be at Rue's, watching my phone like a hawk in case anything comes up from the BOLO… If you two don't think I-" "Go.", Leslie interrupted her, "You have to eat, Rina. We will keep an eye out." She nodded and shot him a smile and a small wave at Oliver as she left. "Have fun.", Oliver shouted after her before turning to Leslie, "Look at that, I'm suddenly hungry myself. Rue's sounds just divine right now." "Ollie. Don't.", Leslie's voice rose, already foreseeing the chaos the plan would cause and how it could ruin Sabrina's date with the lawyer. John. He was dreading even thinking about his name now. Oliver hoped off his desk and grabbed his own jacket, "I'm doing this alone, Parish, don't worry. A little recon. Fucker will be walking the plank in no time."

Tagging, @socially-awkward-skeleton @adelaidedrubman @poisonedtruth @madparadoxum @wrathfulrook @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @trench-rot @g0dspeeed @shellibisshe @shegetsburned @jillvalentinesday @cassietrn @purplehairsecretlair @voidika @theelderhazelnut @v0idbuggy @chazz-anova @florbelles @corvosattano @nightbloodbix @euryalex @clicheantagonist @simplegenius042 @thesingularityseries @strangefable @dumbassdep and anyone with something to share ❤️

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