October 27th, 1891 — The Florist Potts, Hogsmeade
@'Daffodil Potts'

The Potts flower shop wasn't strictly on his patrol but sometimes he took the intended route as more of a suggestion than a hard rule.  Otherwise he might become too predictable and aspiring criminals might take note.  At least that’s how he planned to reason it if he was ever asked.  This particular deviation, though, was more inspired by something he'd found in the road and that something was possibly the ugliest flower he'd ever seen.

Limp and ragged, it had been clearly stepped on a few times, and appeared to be missing more than half it's petals.  It was mottled, sported odd hair like sprouts, and even smelled unpleasant, though Jack suspected that had more to do with the fact that the thing was just naturally wretched than with the fact that it was clearly a little worse for wear.  With a gleeful grin he plucked it off the ground and turned heel towards the florist. 

Noting through the window that the store was momentarily patron free, he pushed through the doors, with a much more tame smile.  The elegant and artful flora that filled the shop threw the weed in his hand into even sharper relief.  And therein lied the joke.

"Good day, Miss Potts.  I saw this on my walk today and could not help but think of you."  He held the abomination out to her with puppy eyes as another petal came loose and fluttered to the floor.

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Her insomnia was damn near out of control and she was still terrified to take anything to help anymore, but she seemed to at least be adjusting to the lifestyle of less sleep. At least the season was truly over and she could focus on work again. Not that she had been too forced to participate in the season, it was really Dahlia's turn after all, but an even here and there wasn't a bad idea. She had gotten fortunate enough to run into Mr. Grimstone a time or two, so at least that was worth it in the long run. Their letters had been keeping her going and she planned to make her visit to his garden in the upcoming weeks, as soon as she had some hearty plants to add to his pumpkins.

Daff was still avoiding her office at the moment, so she was working behind the till and about the shop getting some things in order for a large event coming up and the arrangements still needed a final design, so she was sketching on the counter when she heard the little bell chime to signal someone's arrival.

A wide grin spread across her features as Jack Dorset made his way, holding some poor little weed that had obviously seen better days. "Oh, I do suppose it is the thought that counts." She chuckled as she nearly reached out to take the dying bloom when she got a closer look at it.

"Dorset put that down!" She squeaked, looking at the hogweed in his hand in dismay. "Don't touch your face either!" Oh the irritation that was bound to happen was going to be unholy!

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Jack's mouth pulled to the side in disappointment.  His joke had not worked; he hadn't even managed to get so much as a frown from her.  His expression was shifting to a friendly smile as she reached for the weed when her sudden exclamation startled it right off his face.

He instinctively looked down at the thing in his hand with mild alarm but only long enough for his impish side to surface once again.  Looking back up at her, he said with a stricken tone, "My lady, you wound me - that you would have my gift - " he shook his hand, causing thing to flop pathetically.  "- tossed aside."

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"Jack, I'm serious!" She would have swatted it out of his hand, but she already had enough distractions at night without itchy welts keeping her up. "The sentiment is greatly appreciated, truly, but you're holding what is essentially a poisonous weed and I can see the rash forming on your hand." How it wasn't already itchy, she couldn't know.

"Really, it's very sweet." She tried to appease him, even though she knew he was likely teasing her, simply because he was going to be miserable as soon as the itch kicked in. "You know I love to see you with or without flowers." She added, quite sincerely, with a wide smile. Daffy had always enjoyed Jack's company, he was easy to be around, so she obviously didn't want for him to be injured in any capacity, even by a flower.

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With a disappointed tsk he finally dropped the weed and the pretense.  His joke didn’t have a leg to stand on when she met him with such sincerity.  He shouldn't have been surprised, knowing her, but he hadn't expected to be met with actual feeling when he set foot in the florist shop

"You're such a mom." he teased, brushing dirt from the weed off his hands.  Unfortunately the stimulation awakened the irritation on his skin with a jolt.  Quite suddenly it felt like his hand was on fire and he looked down at it in genuine alarm.  The skin on his fingers and palm was red and angry, peppered with what looked like aspiring blisters.

"Merlin - why is something like that just laying around?!" he demanded, ineffectively flapping his hand in the air as if trying to cool down a burn.  At least he had the sense not to scratch at it.

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Daff very nearly rolled her eyes at him, but clearly he had finally clued into the weed's inflammatory nature and it was obviously uncomfortable. "Come on," She shook her head, having ignored the quip about mom, because she was going to continue doing just that.

"Here," She moved toward the sink that was just inside the door to the greenhouse, a tap they used for multiple things, but now it would do for taking care of Dorset's hand. "Under here," She turned on the tap and let the cool water run for a moment. "The cold will help," She motioned for him to put his hand in while she turned to gather some things to make a little salve for the boils.

Humming as she went she pulled her mortar and pestle from the shelf, picking a few herbs from the next one down. "I need to get a couple of things from the greenhouse, keep that under there until I get back." In another life she would have made a pretty good healer, but perhaps she just spent a lot of time with Ama. Or maybe she was just good at knowing what plants could do for certain things. Either way, it worked out in her favor many times.

Grabbing a small basket, Daff set off in search of what she needed. It didn't take her long to find each plant in turn, just a couple minutes, before she returned to where she had left Jack. "That'll teach you to pick up discarded weeds." She teased lightly. "Next time just pull something from someone's garden." The sentiment was what counted though, obviously.

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He followed without protest, grimacing as he went.  Now that he was aware of the reaction it seemed to be getting worse with every passing moment.  At that time of year the water from the tap would normally have been a bit too cold for comfort but in that moment it was bliss.

"That’s better." he said softly with an audible sigh as he reached his hand under the water.  Of course it did nothing for the itching, stinging, or tightness as the swelling continued to worsen… but the burning was at least quelled for the moment.  He stayed there, doing as he was told, but his eyes wandered as she flitted about doing whatever mom thing she was cooking up.  Seeing the back of the shop felt a bit like he was being let in on a secret somehow.  A very plant-y secret.   

"How was I supposed to know it'd be poisonous?" he asked when she returned, clearly standing firm in the idea that he'd done nothing wrong.  He peered intently at her basket of Things, trying to guess exactly what he was about to be subjected to.  "Besides… the whole point was that it looked ridiculous. It wouldn't be nearly as funny if I brought you nice flowers."

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Daffy simply tutted at Jack as he protested, moving her mortar into the water for a moment before adding some of the things she'd collected from the greenhouse. "Fill that bucket there and put your hand in it." The cold water would keep the boils from spreading for the moment and keep some of the irritation down, but it wouldn't last too long.

"Like I said, I appreciate the sentiment, but really, I work with flowers. Your handsome face is all I need to grace the shop." She teased, casting a look at him over her shoulder. Daffy worked away at the pestle making a paste that would take care of his irritated skin rather quickly, but he might have the bandages on for a day or two.

It took her a few more minutes of puttering, but she finished up a quick salve for his hand. "Alright, let's see," She motioned for him to come over and have a seat on her stool. "What happened to all that training for work, hmm? Just picking up random things off the ground doesn't seem very safe, now does it?" Of course the weed did look rather harmless, but still!

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He swiveled from left to right and back, searching for the indicated bucket.  It took him a moment to find it sitting a short distance away on the floor.  A short distance… but a distance none the less.  He very briefly reached for it with his good hand but jumped back toward the sink the moment his other hand was drawn out from under the running water.  It had taken less than a moment for the burning to set back in. 

After reassessing he opted to reach for his foot this time, awkwardly contorting his body until he managed to hook it and yank it back towards himself with an ungraceful hop.  Looking entirely too pleased with himself, he put the bucket in the sink and under his hand to fill up. 

He'd opened his mouth to protest once again when she called him handsome with a coy glance over her shoulder.  Which he thought was immensely unfair.  A grin spread across his face as he moved to join her, carting his bucket with him.  "If I wanted to bring you sentiment you'd know it."

He may have been tempted to wink to underscore the sentiment but her mentioning his training made him groan instead.  "I'll never hear the end of it at the station."  he said, taking a seat on the indicated stool.  "If anyone asks - I got this doing something very brave."

"The trainings more about learning the law and walking patrols and how to catch people without getting killed… if we were supposed to avoid every rock and flower out of place we'd never leave the constabulary."

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"Oh, would I?" Daff teased, carelessly tossing the comment over her shoulder as she finished up adding a couple more things to the paste she was making for his hand. Jack was very much like the brother her father had always wanted, but had given up on after Daffy had come out another girl. She didn't take it too personally, and he'd been right, as it was all girls from start to finish in the Potts household, but her dad did often ask after Jack's shenanigans. Perhaps that would suffice for her poor old dad.

"You most certainly were putting out a fire somehow." Similar boils to burns, Daff thought. It would all settle rather quickly after she wrapped his hand up after all. She completely missed his debacle with the bucket and as he appeared next to her, she let out a tut of amusement. "Oh yes, I'm sure, such important stuff." She nodded along, giving him the satisfaction. Daff pulled out some bandages from their handy little kit for instances just like this. "Hand." She held out her own for his, salve ready to go to so he wouldn't have to deal with the burn for too long.

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The following 1 user Likes Daffodil Grimstone's post:1 user Likes Daffodil Grimstone's post
   Jack Dorset

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"A fire, yes!  Brilliant" he agreed eagerly… until he realized there was a hole in the cover story.  "And hopefully no one will ask why I used my hand and not magic." he muttered, wryly.  Really was touching a fire with his bare hand any better than picking up a deceptively benign looking weed in the road. 

He held his hand out for her inspection, wrinkling his nose at the grotesque sight of his own skin.  "Seriously, how is something like that just laying around?  What if a kid got ahold of it?" He shook his head, peering around at the workshop as he waited patiently for her to fix him.

"And yes you would!" he said with a vibrant grin, returning to their earlier joke.  "There would be like… sonnets and sweets and-and… dance cards." he said, waggling his brows, his inflection heavy with all the mysticism of someone who had a vague notion that dance cards were very fancy but had  very little idea how they actually worked. 

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Daffy could only shrug about where the hogweed had come from. It wasn't commonly used for anything, but it did grow wild around the outskirts of town. Perhaps somebody had picked it up innocently, just like Jack had, and discarded it just as quickly.

Humming to herself and somewhat in response to him, Daff nearly rolled her eyes as she applied the salve to his hand in a thick layer. It would cool everything down and start the healing process. He might have to leave the bandage on for a few days though. If this didn't take care of it though, he would probably have to go to the hospital and have it looked at. Fortunately for him, if it related to plants somehow, generally the Potts girls could handle it. "Sweets sure, but you can keep your sonnets and dance cards, thank you very much." Daff was a romantic at heart, but even that had a limit before she started to think things were overboard. She had always enjoyed the less overt forms of affection, a brush of hands, a single flower, sharing a favorite book... She shook her head slowly to rid herself of the thoughts that plagued her far too often, turning her attention to applying the bandage instead.

"But I'm sure it'll work on some lucky lady, some day." She quirked an eyebrow at him, a sly smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she wound the bandage around his hand just as Ama had taught her to do. "There, better?"

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He smirked as if her answer had somehow confirmed for him that he could woo her if he really wanted to.  Her expression shifted, however, and his grin faltered into an expression of concern.  Her thoughts seemed clouded for a moment and he wanted to ask what was bothering her but he had no idea what he'd say if she did confide in him. 

He was relieved to see her smile return, and offered a genuine one in return.  "Someday."he echoed, realizing that while he was busy making his point and watching her face she'd gotten him all patched up.

He flexed his fingers carefully, testing the bandage and the poultice underneath.  The burning that had returned the moment he removed his hand from water was already calmed and the itching was less maddening.  "Much better.  You are a wonder." he said distractedly, patting his pockets in search of his gloves.  He finally pulled one out and sized it up in comparison to his bandaged hand.  With any luck it would still fit over and he'd be able to keep this embarrassing little botany lesson between the two of them.

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Very aware that he was watching her a little too closely, Daff realized she must have let her guard down for a moment. Truth be told, that was his fault, he was very easy to talk to, always had been, but she didn't need to burden him with her problems. They were hers alone to deal with and though it seemed so long ago, everything kept popping up when she thought she had a handle on it.

Daff turned her attention to the rest of the cream that she had made, looking for a jar to put it in so he could take the rest with him. "I should think you'll need to change it at least once." She managed, once she'd regained her composure. Looking away from him and keeping her hands busy helped. She'd crumble if he asked and that wouldn't get anyone anywhere.

She found a jar on the shelves nearby and cleaned it out quickly in the sink before adding the remaining salve into it. She busied herself cutting another length if bandages from their supply and rolled it up neatly before turning back to him with it. "If it's still irritated in a couple days, you should probably go see Ama at the hospital." It was her eldest sister's expertise after all.

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His efforts to cover his bandaged shame were futile at best.  The glove didn’t make it far past his second knuckle and he briefly thought about charming them to be slightly bigger before he again noticed a falter in her smile.  With a frown he watched her keep herself busy with the rest of the concoction she'd whipped up for him.  He couldn’t help but worry it was his fault somehow. 

"You know I was kidding right?  With the ugly flower?  You’re not… you know…" he trailed off.  She really was pretty.  Like objectively beautiful.  And normally he didn’t have trouble saying such things when it came to other girls but it didn’t feel right to just throw such words around this time.  Not with Daffy.  Not when it might actually matter.

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Daff hadn't really realized how much of her preoccupation was showing on her features and so she rearranged her expression into something more neutral. Drying her hands on a clean rag, she very nearly ran them down her apron in a subconscious move to try and smooth things out, but manage to resist. It was a nervous habit and she didn't need to give him any more reason to worry. "Oh darling, I know," She gave his cheek a gentle pat as she caught his eye, giving him a look. She did not want him to think this was his fault at all, because it simply wasn't. Apparently she needed to work on her poker face.

"I'm just tired, I was... unwell for a little bit of last month and I haven't been sleeping well. It's taking me longer to bounce back than I would like, that's all." She assured him with the best smile she couldn't muster. Daff had yet to spill the beans about what really had her out of sorts to anyone and she truly didn't want to burden Jack with this. No matter how close their friendship was, never mind that she considered him to be akin to a brother, she just couldn't even begin to articulate what was actually wrong with her. He was too sweet, would try to help somehow and she just couldn't bear the looks of pity she knew she would get from him. No, it was best to keep things light and stick to her insomnia as the culprit to all her problems when it was really just a symptom of the heartbreak. "And you know I would happily accept any other flower from you, even the ugly ones." She teased, using the rag in her hand to swat him gently in the arm.

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