This is for the 'Fanfic Challenge - Medieval floral codes,' by Elena.   For my 
research I used http://www.e-cbd.com/108104.php, which may or may not be correct 
by Medieval standards, but I couldn't find one for specific times and things were 
known to change in just a decade or so… so accurate?  Maybe not  ;-)


Yellow Jonquil
By Cousin Mary


	Vachon looked up as the door to the church creaked open.  He wasn't 
surprised when his friendly neighborhood police detective slipped in and made her 
way to his makeshift seating area.  When she didn't say anything, just plopped down 
beside him on the couch, he raised an eyebrow.

	"Something wrong?"  He asked.

	Tracy shook her head slowly, "No," She drew the syllable out, "Not really 
wrong."

	Vachon waited, but she just stared off at the broken Nativity set in the corner, 
lost in thought. "The Spencer case?"

	Tracy blinked, turning her head and for the first time really looking at him, "Uh, 
no, we caught the guy.  It's something else," She laughed then, "Well, nothing really.  
Just weird, ya know?"

	Vachon stared at her.

	Tracy sighed and leaned back into the dusty old couch he'd scrounged up 
somewhere, "I got flowers today, at the precinct."  

	"Flowers?"  He repeated. 

	"You didn't send them did you?"  Tracy's head popped up.

	"No," Vachon shook his head, "You don't really seem the flower type of girl."

	Tracy frowned slightly, "I like flowers just fine."

	"Who sent you the one's today then?"  He pressed, not wanting to go into 
how Tracy Vetter should be courted.

	"That's just it," Tracy blew a breath out, "I don't know.  No card, no anything.  
And it was a weird bunch too."

	"Oh?"

	"Yeah, all yellow, jonquil and tulips," Tracy frowned again, "Nick got pretty 
weird when he saw them."

	Vachon sat up a bit and faced her, if her partner didn't like this, then he was 
even less thrilled than before, "What did Knight say?"

	"Something about every flower having a meaning," Tracy shrugged, "He 
didn't say much else, just said that if whoever sent my bouquet knew what he was 
doing," She paused, "If he knew, then it wasn't a 'nice bunch of flowers.'"

	"Jonquil and tulips?"  Vachon frowned, "Yellow was usually associated with 
unfaithfulness and treason."

	"What?"  Tracy's eyes widened.

	"But it could mean luxury, pride and success too," Vachon continued, "At 
least, I think I remember that.  I'll have to ask Urs, she likes that kind of thing."

	"I'm not being unfaithful to anybody," Tracy fell back into the couch with a huff.

	"Must be treason then," Vachon smiled with a shrug, "Sell any secrets to the 
Soviets?"

	"Not this week," Tracy's lip quirked up.  She sighed, "Probably nothing to 
worry about anyway, nobody does that 'language of flowers' stuff anymore, 'cept 
maybe around Valentine's day."

	Vachon just shrugged.

	"Thanks," Tracy got up and headed for the door, it was nearly dawn and they 
both needed to get some sleep.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

	He didn't see her again for a few days, but the following Wednesday he saw 
Knight.

	"Are you sending them?"  Nick asked as he sat next to the Spanish vampire 
at the Raven's bar.

	"Sending what?" Vachon blinked, "Oh, Tracy's flowers.  No, why would I?"

	Nick's eyes narrowed for a moment, then he nodded, "I didn't think it'd be 
that easy."

	Vachon just waited, certain that wasn't all.

	"She got more today," Nick signaled for a drink of his own, "Yellow acacia 
and marigolds." 

	"What's the big deal?" Vachon took a sip of his wine, "Probably just thought 
she liked yellow."

	"Yellow acacia means 'secret love' and marigolds mean 'cruelty, grief and 
jealousy,'" Nick frowned, "And jonquil and tulips, yellow, mean 'desire' and 'hopeless 
love.'"

	"Still," Vachon looked down at his wine glass, twirling the stem between his 
pale fingers, "Some guy at work has a crush…"

	"The second bunch was sent to her apartment," Nick said softly, "I think he's 
dangerous."

	The glass shattered in Vachon's hand, a string of Spanish curses followed as 
he tried to mop up the bloodwine with a few cocktail napkins and his shirt sleeve.  
He didn't look up at Nick when he asked, "Why do you think that?"

	"Going through a lot of trouble when he could just ask her out," Nick looked 
away himself, looking around for his sire perhaps, "Maybe that's not what he wants 
though."

	"He wants her scared," Vachon added, shoving the used napkins in the 
pocket of his jacket for lack of a better place, "You sure?"

	"Tracy's been known to attract trouble," Nick said with a small smile, "Just 
keep an eye on her?"

	"Yeah," Vachon nodded, "I will."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

	Turned out, he didn't have to go looking for Tracy that next night, she came to 
him right after her shift.

	"Can I stay here tonight?"  She said without even a hello, throwing a sleeping 
bag and duffel on the floor by the couch.

	"Trace?"

	"In my car Vachon!" Tracy start to pace, "That nutcase somehow got into my 
locked car, my still locked car by the way, didn't force the lock or break a window, 
it's still locked.  Got into my locked car and left more freakin' flowers."

	"Same guy?"  When Tracy turned on him he blinked, "Right, stupid question.  
So what were these?"

	"Orange Mock and an orange lily," Tracy was obviously upset, she'd run her 
hand through her hair so many times her bangs were nearly standing on end.

	"Knight say what they mean?"  Vachon moved closer, but didn't touch the 
agitated cop.

	"Oh, you'll love this, orange mock means deceit and orange lilies mean 
hatred," Tracy gave a harsh laugh, "Guess he thought I wasn't nice enough about his 
earlier gifts.  Not like he told me who the hell he is or anything!"

	Vachon took another step and pulled the blonde into his arms, "Shh, you'll 
stay here.  Everything'll be okay."

	Tracy closed her eyes and leaned into his shoulder, "I know, I mean, I can 
handle this.  I'm a cop for Christ's sake, it's just… I wish he'd just come after me if 
that's what he's planning, instead of hiding behind a bunch of flowers and hidden 
clues."

	Vachon pulled back, he'd give anything to have had a few extra bottles 
around, but he'd put off his shopping.  If a mortal was going to spend the day though, 
he'd need something to take the edge off. "Look, I gotta go get some stuff," Tracy 
looked like she was going to argue, but then simply nodded, "I'll be back before 
dawn, if you need anything… you got your cell?"

	"Geez Vachon," Tracy rolled her eyes, "Cop here, I have my gun!  Go, I'll be 
fine."  She looked away, "I just didn't want to go home, you know?  He sent a bunch 
there, he knows where I live."

	"I'll be back," He kissed her lightly on the lips before leaving.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

	Tracy looked around the empty church and sighed.  Well, she wasn't home.  
And besides, she was a cop, she'd be fine.  She shook her head at how silly she 
was being.  Really, she didn't even know if who ever was sending the flowers even 
meant her any harm at all.  It could be some stupid prank!  Her mom had the spare 
key to her Taurus, if one of her friends had asked to borrow it…  And Vachon had 
proven how easy it was to get into her second floor, with a fire-escape, apartment.  
Could be Jody, Silvia, hell there were a laundry list of people if she counted all of her 
old college friends!

	"Way to panic over nothing Vetter," Tracy griped, grabbing her overnight bag 
and heading towards the bathroom.  She flipped on the light and paused.  She 
frowned, looking around the small space slowly before she saw it, there, in the 
corner, a small bunch of flowers.

	She quietly put down her bag and drew her gun, crouching down she picked 
up the two stalks of purple flowers.  They looked familiar, but she couldn't name 
them.  She turned on toes, staying in her crouch, and pulled the flower book she'd 
picked up earlier out of her bag.  She flipped through the pictures until she named it, 
monkshood.  

	She frowned and flipped to the back where a chart listed the blooms' 
meanings.  "M, m, mistletoe means kiss me," Tracy read quietly to herself, trying to 
ease her nerves, "And monkshood means… beware, a deadly foe is near.   You've 
got to be kidding me, they have a flower for that?"

	Tracy put down the book and slipped the safety off on her gun.  Sure, a 
college friend might have gotten into her car or apartment, nobody knew about 
Vachon's place though.  She reached up and flipped the bathroom light off, slowly 
cracking the door open.

	He stood there in the middle of the empty floor, halfway between the altar and 
door.  She'd never seen him before, or at least, she didn't recognize him.  He was 
blonde, in a tux.  In one hand was a single red rose, in the other a gun.  He saw her, 
smiled, and raised the gun.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


	They never did find out his name, the man she'd shot.  The city had his 
remains cremated so there was no grave to visit.  Not that anyone would have gone 
to his funeral anyway.  Tracy paused as she walked down the shore of the lake.  
She'd been given a few days off, again.  Cops always got a few days off after 
shooting someone, she was getting used to it.

	Vachon was following her, he didn't know she knew her was there, but she 
was getting used to that too.  She stared out at the dark, still water and pulled a 
flower out of her coat pocket.  Deep crimson, like the one he'd tried to give her.

	She threw it as far out as she could and watched it sink.








Jonquil: love me, affection returned, desire, desire for affection returned
Yellow tulips: hopeless love
Yellow acacia: secret love
Marigolds: cruelty, grief, jealousy
orange mock: deceit
orange lily: hatred	
Monkshood : beware, a deadly foe is near
Rose: red (love) dark red (mourning)



>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>.
Good?  Comments and flowers (good, non-threatening ones please!) to 
anteros@juno.com
http://www.geocities.com/cousin_mary1228/