Author's website: http://www.geocities.com/pitapattr

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Ray cursed himself in the most explicit way as he stepped inside the overflowing flower shop. What had possessed him to leave Benny's roses for last? And on Valentine's Day!

Everything else was ready, and preparations had run like clockwork: the chocolates, the card, dinner reservations, hotel suite. Ray had left the roses for last because he wanted them fresh and nice-looking for his lover. His Benny deserved nothing but the best.

Except that Ray didn't count on a last-minute case that had forced him to stay late at the precinct. Now the flower shop was filled with a crowd as wild as deranged ladies in a lingerie sale. When he could finally approach a saleslady, she gave him the most heart-breaking answer he could ever hear.

"I am sorry, sir. This gentleman has just requested the last dozen of our red roses."

Ray blanched.

He immediately turned to the man, a short, chubby pale guy with a huge moustache, who looked at Ray and guessed what was about to happen.

"Look, pal, I gotta have those roses."

"Sorry, man. No can do."

"Please, man, I'll give double what you paid."

"Nope."

"I'll triple it!"

"I'm sorry. You snooze, you lose."

Ray squared his shoulders. "I'm a cop, you know that?"

The guy didn't flinch. "Ah, yeah? And what are going to do? Give the roses to a perp?"

Ray's blood started to boil as his Italian temper flared. "I need them!"

"They are mine!"

"The love of my life is waiting for them!"

"So is my wife, pal! Deal with it!

Enough was enough. Ray growled louder than Dief as he lunged to Mr. ChubbyGuy, who grabbed him really hard. They both tumbled and wrestled away in the floor of the busy flower shop, to the amazement of the whole crowd.

Five minutes later, on that same floor, two figures were lying side by side.

"My lover drags me all over town in wild goose chases that end up ruining my suits every time."

"My wife snores like a lumberjack, man. I swear they can hear her all the way in Skokie."

"My lover has a wolf as a pet. Can you imagine it? A wolf, geez!"

"My wife thinks broccoli is good for me. I hate broccoli!"

"I don't mind so much the jumping off windows, off rooftops. But sometimes I can get hurt."

"Yeah, I suppose I can live with those nights of ladies' ma-jong. Except for the squealing, of course."

"Mine is Canadian."

"Mine is from Queens."

"I love him."

"I love her."

"Can't imagine my life without him."

"I'd die without her."

Sigh.

"Let's settle for half a dozen each. What do you say?"

"Deal."

End A dozen roses by Pita Patter: pitapattr@yahoo.com

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