Note: So I rediscovered this on my computer today and figured, "Eh, I'll post it." I kind of just want to prove that I'm still alive on this site… Anyway, I enjoy writing about Jamie. I love making him like the villains with the dry wit and egos… Harvest Moon needs a character like that. And it's just so fun to pair him with Maria. I know, I know, it's one of the craziest crack pairings ever. But I've become fond of it during my time writing the Fish story. I suppose it's an acquired taste. At any rate, I hope you enjoy this oneshot.
Disclaimer: Don't own ANYTHING.
Maria stifled a yawn as she stood in the Square, watching the villagers exchange pleasantries. The Flower Festival had once seemed a significant occasion to her; now she regarded it as nothing more than another droll time for people to repeat themselves over and over. How boring. And people thought being alone in the library was dull.
"My, what a surprise to see you here." She turned to stare straight into the mocking blue eyes of a young man with purple hair, smiling a devious grin. "It's so rare to see you take a step outside your precious library."
"Pardon me, Jamie," she retorted, "but it's also rare to see you taking any interest in this village's affairs."
"Someone seems miffed," he replied, crossing his arms. "Well, if you think the village would profit any from my complaints, then perhaps I'll go pester your father with some plans of my own."
"Oh, plans!" she laughed. "Jamie, you're a clump of vanity; you'll only suggest something if it somehow benefits you."
"Aren't we judgmental?" he commented. "At any rate, I chose to come to this festival, didn't I? If you'll look closely, you'll notice that I do indeed go to every Flower Festival."
"…I didn't care enough to notice."
"I noticed that you didn't care enough to notice. That's why I told you."
"What made you think I'd listen?"
"Well, we have been talking about me for a full five minutes. You have yet to change the subject," he shrugged.
Aggravated, the blue-haired maiden turned away to see a blushing Bob talking to a laughing Gwen. In the corner, Katie was arguing with Joe, and she could swear Dia and Kurt were talking about something other than the weather in the background.
"Disgusting, isn't it?" Jamie remarked.
"I beg your pardon?" Maria answered.
"This whole…flirting business." He scratched his head in thought then turned again to the librarian. "Aren't there enough romantic festivals as it is? Why ruin the last decent festival we have?"
"You call a gathering of townsfolk in which people merely chat and smell flowers a decent festival?" Maria countered.
"Fine, enlighten me, then," he challenged.
"A truly wonderful festival would allow people to share ideals and theories in a friendly environment," she explained. "It would be a wonderful meeting of intellect."
"Sounds more like a conference than a festival, if you ask me."
"I didn't ask you."
"Well, I tend to reply without being asked. I don't think there's any harm in it," he smiled.
"…I do wonder why you come here, though," Maria sighed. "Being as aloof as you are, the logical reason for your presence eludes me."
"Perhaps it's not logical."
"At any rate," he decided, "I rather enjoy this festival. It allows me to exercise the use of my rather admirable conversation skills."
"You enjoy talking about nothing?"
"Talking about nothing is my favorite subject," he grinned.
"Isn't that a waste of breath? If one must talk about something, shouldn't it be meaningful?" Maria insisted.
"But if you think about it, my dear librarian," Jamie explained, "so much more breath is wasted on important and tedious matters than on nothing. Unless, of course, you consider important and tedious matters as nothing. Then you would be quite correct."
"Your logic is nonsensical."
"Perhaps your logic is too rational."
"Logic is supposed to be rational!" she sighed. "Jamie, you are rambling and filling my mind up with your nonsense. I had hoped to enjoy this festival, and you're ruining it for me."
"Well, seeing as it had been ruined for you already, I suppose I haven't done much harm," he shrugged. "Wouldn't you rather be chatting with me about nothing than standing here bored and lonely?"
"I never said I was bored or lonely."
"Actions account for much of what we say, Miss Librarian."
"Oh, you simply do not let up!" she exasperated, turning away. "I have never had a conversation with someone as infuriating as you."
"Why thank you."
"You—!" Maria caught herself before she let out a stream of unlady-like anger. Her cheeks had turned a slight pink, and she merely glared at the farmer, at a loss for words.
"Well, this is unusual," he smirked. "Since when does the uppity librarian have nothing to say? Come now, there must be some clever snooty remark you're dying to blurt out."
"…I'm ending this pointless conversation," she decided, walking away from the amused young man. "I have no desire to speak with you."
"That's a relief."
"Well, I wouldn't want you to waste your breath on nothing," he grinned cockily. "Seeing as you hate doing so, I wouldn't like for you to waste it on my account. Or perhaps you find my logic nonsensical? Good day to you, Miss Librarian." And with a tip of his hat, he was gone.
Maria simply stood agape in the Square, furious and oddly flattered all at the same time. Throughout that entire conversation, Maria wasn't sure she understood anything Jamie had said. And yet…she had somehow…enjoyed it.
She jumped as someone's hand gripped her shoulder. Turning around, she saw that it was merely her father, and she breathed in relief.
"Oh, Father," she smiled. "How are you today?"
The short mayor looked at his daughter quizzically, eyeing her distant expression.
"I noticed you were talking with Jamie," he mentioned. "Care to tell me what you were speaking about?"
"What we were…speaking about?"
"Well, yes," he admitted. "It looked almost as if…you'll laugh at me, but it seemed almost as if he were…I don't know, flirting with you."
"Flirting, Father!" she exclaimed in protest, her hands on her hips. "Honestly, what makes you think we'd ruin this festival by using such a disgusting topic of conversation?"
"I-I'm sorry," he stammered, surprised by her vehement response. "Then, if I'm not being a prying father, what were you talking about, pray tell?"
A small grin spread across her pale face, and she whispered,
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing at all."