20333/Special Delivery Gone Wrong

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Special Delivery Gone Wrong
Date of Scene: 29 March 2025
Location: Sherwood Florist, Second Floor Apartment
Synopsis: Clint is sweet and sends flowers. Only somehow notes get switched leading to him sending love notes to a complete stranger.
Cast of Characters: Clint Barton, Dinah Lance




Clint Barton has posed:
Clint Barton had the best of intentions. He'd stopped by the florist on his way home, picking out a bouquet that looked like something Dinah would like, bold colors, no frilly nonsense. He'd scribbled a note on the back of an old receipt, his handwriting barely legible. Most badass, beautiful woman I've ever met.

He folded the note and tucked it inside the bouquet, making sure it wouldn't fall out. Then he placed it on the counter and waved over the teenager behind the counter. "This one's for the owner."

At the same time, another customer's order sat nearby, a delicate arrangement of soft pastels, prepped for delivery to one Eleanor Montgomery, a woman Clint had never heard of. Somewhere between the teen finishing the wrapping and Clint getting distracted by his ringing phone, the notes got switched.

Hours later, Eleanor Montgomery sat in her sunlit sitting room, surrounded by lace doilies and crystal vases, as she carefully opened the card tucked inside her fresh bouquet. She expected a generic message, perhaps something about gratitude or well wishes. Instead, she read Clint's scrawled words.

She blinked. Then she read it again.

Her grip on the card tightened. This was highly irregular. Who was this Clint Barton? And why was he writing such improper, shockingly forward declarations? Surely, this was meant for some other recipient.

Her confusion quickly turned into indignation. She reached for her phone.

Meanwhile, at Sherwood Florist, Dinah's bouquet still sat on the shelf, wrapped and ready. Inside, the misplaced note listed Clint's groceries: Milk, Bread, Dog Treats, Coffee, and Khrenovina Sauce.

The teen, oblivious to the mix-up, had gone about her day, and was now home.

Clint, on the other hand...

Dinah Lance has posed:
Dinah was working but had been in the back for much of the day. She had a person that could watch the counter on days like this, though she honestly ran the shop mostly by herself. Once in a while she might have other helpers but honestly, it was just easier to handle it all on her own. Yet, she was only human. Sometimes she needed help. With so many orders going on, she had to work on multiple arrangements for four different funerals and three weddings.

By the time she waved goodbye to Janet, the teen who was getting in those intern hours in order to reach her graduation requirements, Dinah was ready to call it a day. She turned the Closed sign on the door, because she liked that little touch even if it was old fashioned. Then she moved back to the counter as the phone started to ring. She considered letting it go to the recording then shrugged to herself physically and mentally, then picked up the phone. Also an old fashioned landline.

"Sherwood Florist."

As she said that, the bouquet on the counter caught her eye. She had to smile as she looked over it. Dahlias, which were one of her personal favorites. Certainly roses were lovely but these were such beautiful flowers that didn't get enough appreciation. Then she noticed the note and started to pick it up and open it, even as she tucked the receiver between her cheek and shoulder to have both hands free.

Clint Barton has posed:
Eleanor Montgomery adjusted her reading glasses and stared at the card again. The words remained unchanged, as improper as the first time she'd read them. 'You're the most badass, beautiful woman I've ever met. -- Clint Barton.'

Her lips pursed. This was entirely unacceptable. A mistake, surely, but an unforgivable one. She was a woman of dignity, of refinement. Not some 'badass' in need of flattery from a stranger.

With a sharp inhale, she reached for her phone and dialed the number on the florist's label. As it rang, she straightened in her chair, preparing to give whoever answered a piece of her mind.

"This is Eleanor Montgomery," she said, voice crisp. "I received a delivery from your establishment today, and I must say, I am appalled."

"Yes, appalled. I assume this was an error, as I do not make a habit of receiving... how shall I put this... unsolicited romantic messages."

Eleanor retrieved the card, reading it aloud with careful enunciation, as though she were reciting an indecent passage from a book she'd never admit to owning.

"I take it this was not meant for me," Eleanor continued. "I should hope not. I have no interest in the affections of a man named Clint Barton."

Dinah Lance has posed:
Ever had one of those moments were something was completely horrifying yet hilarious at the same time?

This was one of those for Dinah.

First she had an irate customer, which she never wanted to do. The name Eleanor Montgomery did match one that she had set up a floral delivery for. White roses with a loving birthday wish from her granddaughter. She looked around quickly as she moved to the back room, the cordless phone now clutched in hand. The vase of white roses was already gone so it had been delivered. But the note!

And the fact it was flowers sent with a romantic message from Clint Barton? That was the hilarious part. The message itself had made her smile, one of those goofy happy smiles. And she'd had to slap her free hand onto her mouth to keep from giggling in poor Mrs. Montgomery's ear. Badass. Yeah, she loved that.

"I am so sorry Mrs. Montgomery. There must have been a mistake with the cards. Just to confirm, you did receive the white roses with the yellow baby's breath and greenery?" Once that was confirmed, she was nodding which was just silly as one can't see on a phone. Well, not this kind of phone. She quickly wrote down the number on caller ID. "I can bring the original note over immediately or I can send you a picture of it if you would like to give me your cell phone number?" Although she did have it on caller ID, she didn't know if that was a cell or a landline too.

Clint Barton has posed:
Eleanor tapped her nails against the armrest of her chair. "No, that won't be necessary," she said briskly. "I have no interest in further entanglement with this... situation."

She glanced at the bouquet again, its delicate arrangement entirely at odds with the message it had carried.

"I trust you will ensure this does not happen again," she continued. "It would be quite the scandal if I were to be receiving romantic overtures from unknown men at my age."

"Regardless," Eleanor said, smoothing the front of her blouse, "I will consider the matter settled. Good day."

She slammed the phone down before the Dinah could respond. How rude.

For a moment, she simply sat there, looking at the flowers. Then, with a small huff, she plucked the offending note from the arrangement, folded it neatly, and tossed it into the wastebasket.

Improper, indeed.

Still, as she reached for her tea, she found herself shaking her head. Most ridiculous thing she'd encountered in years.

Dinah Lance has posed:
As soon as the phone slammed down, Dinah eyed the offending handset and pushed the off button. It was returned to the cradle from whence it had been removed. Then she was snatching the note out of the bouquet on the counter. Only to stare at it a long time before laughing outloud.

She pulled her cellphone out of her pocket and quickly unlocked it before scrolling to a familiar name. Then she fired off a quick text with a picture of the flowers. Followed by the question 'What the hell is Khrenovina sauce?'

Then she wandered up the stairs from the back room toward her the floors above which were her living area. Before she took two steps she was back down to the front room, retrieving her flowers off the counter then taking them with her upstairs.