(Disclaimer: They're not mine. I'd be rich and not stuck in the middle of nowhere if they were mine, trust me.

(A/n: Well, I guess you could consider this one a companion piece to "Morning Flowers", if you wanted to.)

"I can't believe you sent me flowers," she laughs, as I take her coat. "It's not you."

"It seemed like the only guys you ever got flowers from were psychopaths," I answer, kissing her, still amazed that she'll let me do that.

"Oh, yeah?" She raises one eyebrow. "Didn't you say that flowers were a waste of money?"

"Who, me?"

She rolls her eyes and then they fall on the roses on her kitchen table. "Again?"

"So you can say you've gotten flowers from cops and psychopaths," I tease, as she looks up at me, laughter in her brown eyes.