Butterfly
by Kusine Kaninchen
The toad beneath the harrow knows
Exactly where each tooth-point goes;
The butterfly upon the road
Preaches contentment to that toad.
--Rudyard Kipling Tracy hated Valentine's Day.Everyone always got all mushy and doe-eyed. It made her just sick. Of course, she had to admit, she might be a little biased. She'd never -- never -- had a date for Valentine's Day. Even when she'd been dating someone, they always found a reason to break up right around the holiday. Half the time they'd want to get back together afterwards, but Tracy had always refused, no matter how much she wanted to. After all, why the heck would she want to date a scumbag that would break up with her just so he didn't have to buy her a present?!
Mentally growling, Tracy pulled open the front door to the station and trudged inside. Tonight she'd get to see flowers on everyone's desks, candy would get passed around, and red would be everywhere. Tracy had carefully dressed all in black. She had also changed her answering machine message to:
Roses are red,A bit aggressive, perhaps, but it fit her mood.
Dead ducks float.
Be my Valentine
Or I'll slit your throat.
She stalked over to her desk and yanked out her chair. She moved to sit down, but stopped suddenly when she noticed a small, flat, silver-wrapped box on the seat. She dropped her purse on the desk, picked up the present, and sat down.
Who was this from? There was no card, and no note. She looked carefully around the room, but there was no one stifling laughter, waiting for a prank to go off.
"Hey, Trace!" Nick said cheerfully, sitting on his desk. "Have an admirer?"
"Did you do this?" she asked suspiciously. "Is it going to explode when I open it?"
"What?" Her partner looked genuinely confused. "I just got here." He paused. "Well, aren't you going to open it?"
"Oh, I suppose," she said.
She carefully peeled the small gold bow off the top and unwrapped the silver metallic paper. She held it out in front of her and turned her head away as she pulled the top off of the small box.
Nothing happened.
She looked and saw Nick staring, stunned, into the box.
"What?" she asked in concern. "Is it a finger or a toe or something?"
Nick just shook his head. Tracy pulled the box toward her and looked inside.
It was an emerald necklace.
It was obviously an antique. The three large emeralds were set in a filigree silver setting, with a fine silver chain completing the necklace. Peeking out of a corner of the black velvet the necklace was nestled in was a small white card. Tracy pulled it out and read it:
It is impossible to love and to be wise. A secret admirer
"Who..." Tracy cleared her throat and tried again. "Who could have sent this to me? I ... I don't know who could have done this...""Well, whoever it is, they seem to be in love," Nick pointed out, reading the note upside-down. "Maybe they'll be in touch later. Maybe they're shy. Maybe they're afraid of rejection."
"Maybe they're a stalker." Tracy looked around the station. "Someone had to have seen who put this here."
Tracy pocketed the box and its bejeweled contents, then set off to interrogate every single person in the station until she got some answers.
Tracy sat down, exhausted. She had spoken to just about everyone in the station who could have possibly seen who had put the gift on her chair. No one had seen anything.She was not amused. Tracy did not approve of surprises. Especially ones that involved Valentine's Day. She still had five hours left on her shift and she was no closer to an answer. She was stuck doing paperwork all night since she and Nick weren't allowed any new cases since they'd been involved in a shooting the night before. They were stuck at the station while the Shooting Review Board decided that they had acted in self-defense.
Sometime during her two-hour quest, it appeared that Nick had gone to visit Natalie in the morgue. A note propped up in front of her computer read:
Tracy--
Checking out the Hudson case with Nat.
I left a pile of paperwork for you.
Find your loverboy (or girl?!) yet?
Be back after the dinner break.Your Not-So-Secret Admirer
Tracy balled up the note and lobbed it at the trash can. She pulled a large pile of paper toward her, then began filling it out.After another hour, her name was called loudly by the Desk Sergeant. She pulled her bleary eyes from the paper in front of her and looked up. The sergeant was grinning at her and holding out a long white flower box.
Tracy rolled her eyes and got them to the catcalls of all onlookers. She dropped the box on her desk and pulled off the top unceremoniously. It was, as expected, a dozen red roses. Am I so jaded, Tracy thought, that I'm annoyed when someone sends me roses? She pawed through the flowers until she found a card.
The supreme happiness of life is the conviction
that one is loved; loved for oneself, or better
yet, loved despite oneself.
Anton's 2:00 AM
A secret admirer
Tracy sighed. She now had a date with someone she didn't know. She checked her watch; it was 1:30. She still had plenty of time to get there since Anton's was just down the street.But should she? Or was she was she just walking into a stalker's trap? Or did she honestly have a secret admirer who was just shy? She had thought at first that it might be Vachon, but this really wasn't his style. Besides, they hadn't seen each other in nearly a month. So who could it be? Who would go to such lengths for her?
Tracy stood outside the restaurant, hesitating about going in. For one thing, it didn't look open. Of course, it was 2 in the morning, so that wasn't so unusual. However, she also wasn't sure about doing this at all. The guy could be a maniac, and she, quite frankly, didn't seem to have the best of luck with men. The last few guys she had been attracted to had all be killers of one flavor or another.Well, she would give her admirer five minutes, then she would go down the street to the all-night diner. She didn't have too much time, anyway. She sat down on the front steps and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
With a slight growl, Tracy got up to go. As soon as she began to walk away, though, the entire front of the restaurant lit up with hundreds of white Christmas lights. She stopped and turned around to find a waiter at the open front door.
"Ms. Vetter?" He asked. When she nodded, he continued. "Come in please."
Tracy hesitated, then followed him inside. It was also it by tiny lights, but accented with candles on all of the empty tables. Only one, in the center of the room, was set.
For one.
"This way please," the waiter continued. "May I take your coat?"
She handed him her leather coat and sat at the table.
"Who set all this up?" she asked the waiter. "And why am I eating alone?"
"The gentleman is ... shy," the waiter explained. "And he also understood that you might be short of time. So he has taken the liberty of ordering for you."
He poured her a glass of her favorite brand of mineral water, while two other waiters descended on the table with trays laden with food. Tracy boggled at the selections; they were all her favorite foods: baked chicken in a white wine lemon sauce, steamed asparagus, red-skinned mashed potatoes, and honey-glazed, baby carrots. Ignoring her misgivings, Tracy dug in with relish.
Twenty minutes later, Tracy leaned back in her chair and tried not to belch in contentment. She hadn't eaten this well in months! She had been too busy to cook lately, and her salary didn't really allow her to eat out too often."Ms. Vetter?" a voice asked. Tracy looked up to see a waiter with a small covered plate on a tray. "May I offer you dessert?"
"Ooh! Yes!" Tracy replied happily, and sat up straight.
The waiter set down the covered plate in front of her, then left. Tracy uncovered the plate, looking forward to some sort of chocolate confection. She was only mildly disappointed to find another silver wrapped box, this one smaller than the last.
She unwrapped it quickly, finding a pair of emerald earrings that matched the necklace she had already received. Again, hidden under the black velvet was a note:
None without hope e'er lov'd the brightest fair,
But love can hope where reason would despair.A secret admirer She had to admit that after the wonderful dinner, she was feeling more inclined to like this secret admirer of hers. Now, if only she could find out who it was!
Tracy passed the rest of the night shift with no more surprises from her secret admirer, though she was hoping for one. Only paperwork and a smug partner greeted her upon her return to the station. Every time the front door opened, Tracy had looked up, hoping that the person entering would come over and declare himself as her admirer. What she would do if that actually occurred, she wasn't sure, but she wanted the chance to find out.By the time she arrived home in the pre-dawn hours, she was disappointed. She trudged up the stairs to her third floor apartment, hoping to just drop into bed and sleep it off. As she reached the top of the stairs, however, she saw a large silver wrapped box in front of her door. Nearly sprinting, she was at her door in moments, snatched up the present, and let herself into her apartment.
She flipped on the light and ripped the paper off the package in her excitement. Pulling off the top revealed a beautiful black velvet dress, a long sheath with narrow straps. She stared at it with her mouth open, then carefully folded it over her arm to look for a card. There was one, larger than the others.
My dearest Tracy, I fear to reveal myself to you. You have
seen me before and piled only scorn upon me.
I am not suave or handsome, nor am I witty or
schooled in the ways of love. I know only my
own heart and the love that bursts from it
whenever I see your lovely face, hear your
laugh, or smell your scent upon the air.I ask that you accept my gifts without
obligation. I want nothing from you that you
do not readily and freely give. I only wish for
your happiness and for you to have all that is
beautiful in life.Should you wish to meet me, I will do it.
However, please do not feel that you must. I
will be happy to know that you enjoy my gifts
without intrusion. But my fear of meeting
you would be outweighed by my joy in seeing your
beauty up close.To summon me, all that you must do is wear the
gifts that I have given you. I will know.
A secret admirer
Tracy stared at the letter in her hand. It was beautifully heartfelt. Who did she know and "scorn" that could write such words? And, if she did scorn him, he must have a very forgiving heart. Tracy was touched.But she was unsure of what to do. Should she discover who it was and risk hurting someone who obviously had a very gentle soul? Or should she not meet him and...
... And what? Not take a risk? Not love or be loved? Be afraid that she would recoil in disgust? Discover her own pettiness? Be a coward?
Tracy liked to think that she was a brave person. Not fearless, because sometimes not being afraid was stupid, but brave. Right now she was afraid. Afraid that she wouldn't be able to see through her past impressions of this man to the real one that showed himself in his letter. Bravery would be to accept that fear and face it, face him.
She decided to be brave. She gathered her night's gifts and went into the bedroom to change.
He stood nervously at the door, afraid to knock. He had seen her come into her living room, wearing the dress and jewelry, so he knew she wanted to see him.But he was afraid.
She had never thought of him with love, he knew that. She had curled up her nose -- a beautiful nose -- at him. She thought him uneducated and uncouth. Could he really reveal himself to her? Would she slam the door in his face? Would she laugh at him? Would she be disgusted? Would she hate him?
Or would she be as good-hearted as he knew her to be and be kind?
He didn't know, and that's what made him afraid. He looked down at himself, checking to make sure he looked as good as he possibly could. The tux fit -- several evenings in a tailor shop had ensured that. His shoes had just been shined on the way over. He straightened his bow-tie one last time.
Now he was only stalling. Before he could stop himself, he reached up and knocked on the door. He could hear her heartbeat race as she walked over to the door. After a deep breath, she opened it.
She stared.
"Screed?" she asked faintly.
"Um ... su'prise," he said, his voice nearly shaking. "I's yer admirer."
"Uh ..." Tracy paused and again took a deep breath, then smiled. "Please come in, Screed. And thank you for the beautiful gifts. I don't think I've ever had anything as lovely."
"Aye, but ya' 'ave," he said, smiling slowly. "Ya' 'have ya'self."
END
The first note from Tracy's secret admirer is a quote from Francis Bacon.
The quote in the second note is from Victor Hugo.
The third note contains a quote from Lord Lyttleton.