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Krishna grunted only a little as he lifted the bag of fertilizer and carried it towards the front of his shop. The fifty pound bag was not the largest he carried in the store and did not make him strain as much as he could have. But it was still not a small weight to lift directly from the floor, and the young man who requested it still looked appropriately impressed.

Exactly as planned. The florist was not one to flirt with sugary words or speeches, but he could show off the muscles of his arms, the strength in his back, the sureness of his stride. He felt like he had his customer's attention, but apparently it was not enough. The rainbow-haired man did not push for more than that shy smile and the promise that he would come again. Unlike Richard, who played the game hard and loose, Krishna was willing to play it more coyly. This one walked out of his life, one bag of fertilizer richer. Another would come in and he could try again. He was in no rush.

At least business seemed to be improving. That, in and of itself, was promising. If he could get more business, that would brighten his mood.

Krishna turned immediately when he heard the bell connected to the door jingle. A rainbow brow rose as he looked at the nose-blower before him. It was the season for allergies to flare, and he was used to seeing the sheen of snot and hearing the sound of coughs and sneezes. He gave the boy credit for coming in despite any weaknesses he may have.

Three types of flowers? "Yes, to all," he finally stated. He motioned with a gloved hand for the customer to follow him as he set off towards the middle of the shop. The sunflowers were the easiest to spot, their tall stems making them tower over the other blooms. Lilies and carnations, however, had their own distinct sections.

The lilies came in a dazzling, bright away of orange, red, pink, and yellow. White dotted here and there but were rarer than the other colors. Carnations stood in bundles, their ribbon-edged petals in similiar colors. There were also various dots of color in the centers of lilies, and lines of color for the carnations.

Krishna indicated all of these for his customer, asking a simple question, "Which do you wish?"

The eyebrow only raised a bit further, and first the florist merely answered the second question, "Yes, I make deliveries." Before Krishna could think too deeply on the matter of just how many deliveries it would take for him to deliver every yellow sunflower, lily, and carnation in his shop, his customer delivered a message.

The rainbow-haired man did, indeed, know "the Candyman" of which his customer spoke, and a smirk appeared across his rather serious face. Richard should truly deliver his own greetings by now... and it was unlike his sugar-coated friend to throw business out when he had (as far as Krishna could see) not bought any merchandise. Still, the reference was a good name to drop in Padma's Bouquet, "I see. For your trouble, perhaps we can negotiate a small discount?"

Krishna all but tossed his head in pride to show how deeply the praise had been felt. Certainly, he deserved all adoration for his skill, but so few understood the true amount of dedication and work that went into growing the blossoms they all sought at his shop. The fact that this youung man did raised him in the florist's estimation. Perhaps today would not be a complete waste afterall. "I have a fine, though small, greenhouse located behind the shop. With it, I can produce much."

Which returned them to the matter of the business at hand. He repeated the request, resting his chin in one hand thoughtfully, "Every single, yellow flower, of those three types? There are many." He paused to check his mental inventory--by no means as accurate as a spreadsheet, but good enough for a general idea. "Hundreds, in fact. Even with a discount, they will be quite expensive." Not that he was trying to throw away business himself, or anything, but he wanted to be sure that his eager customer could afford such an extravagence. "Is there a budget within which you must stay? Do you want only solid yellow flowers, or are mixed colors also acceptable?"

Together, surely they could arrive at an acceptable request.

Krishna could not help but be a bit amused at the small sneeze that came from his customer. Working in the environment he did, he heard sneezes of all shapes, sizes, and timbres... but that was the smallest sneeze he had ever heard. The smile that flashed across his face was the only indication of said amusement, however, as he replied, "No need. Delivery, even of an order this size, is no difficulty."

The questions took him a bit offguard. His customer was proving more interesting with each passing moment, and that alone kept the aloof Krishna engaged. Naturally he would work with any customer for as long as it took to meet their needs--but it was considerably easier when the person with which he was interacting was worthy of study. The florist momentarily wondered what this yellow-obsessed individual would be like in his natural habitat... but today was not the day for people watching.

"Yes, and unsure." Simple and to the point, but he had never been known for his scintillating conversation. He was working through the carnations, his gloved fingers lightly skimming the tops to act as a visual aid in seperating pure yellow from yellow trim. When he found one that he sought, he shifted it to his free hand. Then, to clarify, he added, "Marigold flowers are edible, but not the leaves. How would you like the flowers presented? Bouqets? Loose?"

"Unusual," Krishna agreed. Not the strangest--or even the most difficult--request he had ever recieved. It would, however, certainly be one of the most profitable... and it was a sale he desperately needed. "Like your reasoning--unusual. Does that not make it better?"

"Krishna Dhawan." Nothing quite answered an unspoken question of nationality like the first name 'Krishna.' The florist took no offense to this steer in the conversation. There were precious few of his mother's countrymen in Destiny City, and there was a natural kinship because of it. Yet, to be fully honest, he had to give a bit more information. "My family originally came from Jalandhar, though I was born here. My father and brother have since moved to Pondicherry."

Despite his name, his mother's cooking, and his father's attempts to instill a love of India into him... the rainbow-haired man had never seen this far away place. Not with his own eyes. Perhaps Isha had, and if so... then he deserved to know that Krishna could not reminisce would him, however willing he was to listen to the sneezing boy's own memories. Padma had wanted him to take a trip with her... and that was enough of a memory for the florist to turn his attention now to gathering lilies. The carnations he placed on a small cart nearby to free his hands.

Beneath the cart were spools of ribbon, ribbon in various widths, colors, and textures. To these he pointed before turning fully to the lillies, hoping to give Isha some allergy relief by limiting his flower contact. "Choose some, and I will create bouquets with them."

While the florist was aware of the foot shifting going on behind him, he assumed that it was caused by the boy trying to prevent himself from sneezing any further as he inspected the ribbon. He listened carefully to Isha's words, and he nodded to indicate his comprehension. "Then perhaps you should go - better recent, clear memories than old?"

With the colors of ribbon decided, he moved onto the nexst task. "Maroon, grey, lilac, and yellow," Krishna parroted back. He stooped to the bottom of the cart and deftly began to pull out lengths of ribbon with one hand. With the other, he snipped at intervals. Eventually, a neat pile of each color rested in his hand. Only then did he stand and begin to create the numerous bouquets. Ten to fiteen flower. Rubber band. Conceal rubber band with approximately two inches of ribbon and a flourished bow. Set the bouquet to the side and begin again.

As he worked, he commented, "Unusual palatte... but complimentary. Perhaps I'll build a bouquet around it."

Krishna nodded, placing the bouquet on which he was currently workingonto the cart before motioning Isha towards the check-out. "Of course. I will bring an itemized reciept upon delivery." The florist pulled out the appropriate paperwork for such an order and handed it to the youth along with a pen. He tapped the appropriate section for credit card information and left him to fill it in. The other sections the florist would complete himself later.

This order was exactly the boost he needed. The flowers alone would be several hundred dollars, and adding in the delivery fee... he hoped the young man was truly as rich as he appeared. The rainbow-haired man moved towards the back of the store, to the flowers that held the most special place in his heart. Isha had come for mother's day... and for such an occasion, one flower in particular he felt he had to offer.

He returned with a pink lotus blossom carefully cradled in his hands. Despite his gentle treatment of the plants earlier, he held this one as even more precious. He slowly, gently placed it into a small plastic box and wrapped the box with a matching pink ribbon before handing it to Isha. "To your mother, from mine."

The florist said nothing more, did nothing more, until Isha exited his shop. Then, as soon as he could, Krishna scrubbed his cheek to try and remove the offered affection. How old could that boy be--far too young! He was more his type than say, Richard, but that did not mean the florist wanted to be on the receiving end of the kiss! If there was to be any kisses, the rainbow-haired man would want to be the one to give them!

The flash of anger cooled as he buried himself back into his work, wrapping bouquet after bouquet of yellow flowers. Perhaps it had been a mistake to offer the lotus. But... his promise to his mother remained. Any mother who came into his shop, or any order for a mother, then a lotus would be included in her honor. Always, the Padma will be Queen of my shop. Always.