“You’re gonna get shot,” Gojyo deadpanned.

“Shut up!” said Goku, but he knew his face was probably bright red.  He’d been caught.

“I’m just telling you the truth, monkey.”  Gojyo put his cigarette back in his mouth and took a long puff, his cheeks collapsing inward around it.  Goku glared at him, except it was hard to glare at somebody when you were holding a fistful of flowers.  Flowers weren’t very intimidating.

“Where’d you get those anyway?” Gojyo asked, craning over him.  The cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth and a few ashes just barely missed singeing a daisy’s petals.  Stupid Gojyo.  He was so gross.

“’Nonnuv your business!”

“Hell, just curious.  Did you buy ‘em?  They don’t look bought.  They’ve got dirt and shit…”

Goku hugged them to his chest protectively.  “Shut up!” he repeated.  “I found ‘em, ok?  What do you care?”

Gojyo straightened, a lopsided smile curving into his face around the cig.  “Just curious,” he said.  “Flowers are pretty lame, you know.  And girly.”

“Forget you.  Hakkai said they’d be a good idea.”

Gojyo’s eyebrows almost disappeared in his hair.  “Oh?”

“He said they were a nice gift for people you wanna…”  Goku frowned at the little stalks in his hands and tried to remember the words Hakkai had used.  They hadn’t sounded too girly, had they?  Crud.  Hakkai was better at this sort of thing than he was.  And way smarter than stupid Gojyo, anyway.  “I dunno.  People you wanna make happy and things.”

Gojyo looked at him for a moment in a weird sort of way.  Like he was trying to look past his face or something.  Then, without warning, he reached for the flowers in Goku’s hands.

“Hey!”  Goku pulled them back, but Gojyo bopped him on the head with his knuckles.

“Relax, will ya?  You can’t give anybody flowers like that,” he said, prodding at the bottom of a poppy.  A clump of dirt came off on his finger.  “They’re all nasty.  Don’t you know anything?”

He swiped the makeshift bouquet out of Goku’s hands in one quick motion, before Goku could even register what was happening.  By the time Goku realized the theft, Gojyo had already started down the hall with the flowers slung over one shoulder, his free hand slipping lazily into his pocket.

“HEY!  Give ‘em back, stinking kappa!”  He ran after Gojyo, beating at him with his fists, but the redhead was unfazed.  He just held the flowers out of Goku’s reach whenever he tried to grab them back.

“GO-JYOOO!” They were going down the inn stairs now, and drawing a few looks from passersby.  “What the hell!  Leave 'em alone!  They’re just flowers-!”

Gojyo “tch”ed and smooshed a hand in his face.  “Just flowers my ass.”  He turned sharply at the bottom of the stairs and pushed into a room at a nook under the stairway.  Goku shoved in after him, tussling with the door a moment, and found himself in the inn’s kitchen.

No one was there except for a pretty cook who giggled as Gojyo entered--the source of Gojyo’s waltz-into-the-kitchen-whenever pass, for sure.  Goku took this opportunity to give Gojyo a good slug in the ribs.  Gojyo gave a satisfying oof.

“Stinkin fish-head pervert cucumber-brained buttface old ugly--!”

“Alright already, shit!” Gojyo finally returned the flowers with a jerking motion, clutching his side.  “Just stay put, will you?  We’ve got work to do.”

He rubbed at his abused ribcage a few more times before striding over to the sink with that gangly briskness he had whenever he wanted to get stuff done.  He whispered something to the cook, who blushed and gave a bright-eyed little glance in Goku’s direction.  Goku flushed and hugged his flowers closer, getting ready to punch Gojyo again when he came back.

But Gojyo didn’t come back; instead he nodded for Goku to come to him.  Goku did so begrudgingly, just because the cook was watching.

“We have to wash them off,” Gojyo said, turning on the sink to a light drizzle.  He stuck his hand under the water to check the temperature real quick, then shook it dry.  “Stick ‘em under there.  Mei Ling here’s gonna get you a pair of scissors.”

“Scissors?!” Goku yelped, and Gojyo bopped him again.

“To cut off those stupid-looking roots,” Gojyo said, gesturing.  “Now hurry up, Mei Ling’s got work to do you know.”

Goku just stared at him.  Goyo’s cigarette tilted upward.  “Got anything to say about it?” the cigarette asked.  Goku didn’t, so he carefully placed the flowers in the sink.

Mei Ling leaned toward them a moment later with the scissors, holding the blade and offering the handle with a pink-cheeked smile.  Gojyo accepted them, murmuring something in her ear, then motioned for Goku to hand the flowers over when he was done rinsing them off.  Goku only hesitated a little bit.

“This is how you do it,” Gojyo said, placing the scissors carefully around the very bottom of the stalks, just above the roots (which were still a bit dirty despite the rinsing, with streaks of now-mud caked into their crannies).  He squeezed the scissors gently--an adverb that didn’t fit Gojyo very well--and the roots popped right off into his other hand.  He tossed the extra bits in a wastebasket by the counter, then brushed a hand over the finished bouquet, grinning.  It really did look a lot better.

“This is how flowers have to look before you give ‘em to someone,” he said.  He handed the bouquet back to Goku, who couldn’t take his eyes off it.

Stupid girly hypocrite.  Gojyo couldn’t have known this much about flowers unless he’d given them to someone before too.  And he did know what he was doing.  The flowers were beautiful.

“Thanks…” Goku said.  His face was going red again, he just knew it.

Gojyo’s grin turned into a leer.  “You’re still gonna get shot,” he said.

“Shut up!" Goku snapped.

And surprisingly enough, Gojyo finally did.  He kept leering but he left Goku alone to shuffle away back in the direction of Sanzo’s room unhindered.  Stupid kappa.  Goku would let him win the battle for the last spring roll at dinner.