“Yeah,” Joe said. He scratched the back of his neck. “Well, like I said, I went to your house and all the lights were on, so I knocked, and no one answered and the dog didn’t bark… It worried me a little. I’m a security guard, after all.”
Maria found herself smiling dumbly. She knew if she looked in the mirror, she would’ve really regretted the face she was making.
“Thank you, Joe, that’s really nice. Not many guys are as chivalrous as you.”
Inside of her head, she could imagine the reaction Claire and Tabby would give when she finally told them about this conversation. ‘Chivalrous? More like creepy…’
“So, um, what are you guys up to at an ice cream place this late?” He looked at his wristwatch, the numbers glowing neon green. They said 2:08 a.m., and Maria quickly realized she’d only been in Oriceran for a matter of minutes before she came back to Earth. Funny how time works there.
Joe looked over to the left at the plate-glass show window and did a double-take.
Oh, no. Maria’s neck creaked as she swiveled her head to look.
Sure enough, the whole crew inside of Salem’s was watching her talk to Joe—even Sherlock, which was a miracle, since she hadn’t thought anything could tear him away from the prospect of food and garbage; the best of both worlds. Claire and Tabby each wore a sly smile on their face; Gramps looked on proudly, but with a hint of animosity—Maria was, after all, his little girl, no matter how old she was; Agnes and Salem had their arms around each other, and she could’ve sworn she heard Salem say, ‘Ah, young love’ through the glass; lastly, Sherlock had his nose pressed up against the glass, and each time he breathed, a little cloud of fog obscured his face.
“Yeah, just ignore them,” Maria said, chuckling awkwardly. “We can go somewhere a bit more private.” She pointed down the sidewalk, out of the light from the streetlamp. “Like over there?”
Joe nodded, a look of amusement on his face. He still held something behind his back; Maria was dying to know what it was.
Joe began to stammer. “I-I…uh, I wanted to ask you a question…” he said.
Faintly, Maria heard Sherlock’s voice in her head. He’s going to ask why you have a sword hanging around your waist and an Indiana Jones satchel over your shoulders. Probably just one of a million questions he has for you.
The words ‘Shut up’ were on her lips, but that would just make her look crazy. Still, it was good to know she could hear Sherlock even if he was inside. The telepathic effect was very much the same as talking; just as someone who was farther away would sound faded, Sherlock sounded faint in her head.
“You can ask me anything,” Maria said.
“I would’ve asked you through text message, but you weren’t responding, so I did the craziest thing I think I’ve done since smartphones came out.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, I called you,” Joe said, grinning. Maria returned the smile. “And when I got an automatic message saying your line was disconnected, I worried.” He scratched the back of his neck again. Maria was quickly realizing this was one of his tells.
Let’s hope he doesn’t ever play poker, Sherlock said, practically reading Maria’s mind.
“I’ll be honest with you, Maria. I know I might be coming off as a little bit creepy—”
“No, not at all,” she cut him off. “I think it’s…” She blushed. “Sweet. It’s sweet.”
Joe perked up, that familiar, wonderful grin on his face. “You mean it?”
Maria nodded.
“Well, okay, that’s great!”
Then he pulled out what he was hiding from behind his back—it was a bouquet of roses. Red and white and pink. Maria gasped. The smile she was wearing melted away, and her lip started to quiver.
Don’t cry, Maria. Don’t you cry, dammit. Be strong.
But that was easier said than done. No guy had ever given her roses before. Even in high school, where she wasn’t the most popular of girls, she’d had a few male suitors—but those guys usually just tried to get her to come over to their house when their parents weren’t home, or offered to take her out to the gorge, which was make out central. Gramps had given her flowers on the day she graduated from middle school, but they weren’t roses; they were called monkey-face orchids. Though they were cool as hell—the flower actually looked like a monkey’s face—and she appreciated them, it just wasn’t the same as getting flowers from a guy she’d had a crush on for such a long time.
She turned her head away and wiped the moisture from her eyes.
Joe caught on to what she was really doing and began stammering again. “I’m-I’m sor—I didn’t mean to—”
“No, don’t be sorry,” Maria said, looking up at him. “They’re beautiful.”
“Really?”
She didn’t answer with words. Instead, with the bouquet in her hands, she took two steps toward Joe and hugged him. He smelled like cologne and manly deodorant. He didn’t hug back at first, standing rigid, but after a few seconds, she felt his body relax, and he wrapped his arms around her. Kissing him then and there crossed her mind, but she didn’t because of her current audience. She could only take so many jokes from Sherlock before she snapped, after all.
Then Sherlock spoke inside of her head: Oooh, Maria and Joey sitting in a tree—
Luckily, Joe talked, causing Maria not to focus on the Bloodhound’s quips.
“Uh, Maria, your—I never thought I’d say this to you, but…your sword is poking my ribs.”
As much as she didn’t want to let go, she quickly did. “I’m sorry,” she said.
He chuckled nervously. “It’s all right. I was going to ask about that anyway…”
Maria shook her head. “Long story.”
“Well, maybe you’d like to tell me all about it over dinner or something?” Joe replied.
“No, I don’t think I can tell you—wait, what?” The blood pumping through
