A Stag in Doe's skin

Somebody should do something

Alastor leaned over the garden plot and plucked away the weeds that slowly grew in the dirt, a simple smile on his face as he did so. He whistled a gentle tune to himself as he worked away. He enjoyed the smell of the flowers.

Alastor groaned and leaned back. He pressed his gloved hands onto the ground to help himself off of the ground. He didn't get up but merely maneuvered himself from the grass onto the flat wooden buffer between the grass and the plot.

He bit into the finger of his gardening glove to pull it off his hand, then used his other hand to pull his sunhat off. As he placed the hat off to his side, he raised his other hand and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Now, you better not be overworking yourself!" a voice called out. Alastor looked over to see Rosie walking down from the porch and into the garden. She was holding a glass in each hand.

"Oh, please," Alastor chuckled, standing up and walking over to his friend. "I'm strong as an ox!" he boasted with a smile.

Rosie rolled her eyes with a giggle. "Even an ox needs to drink." She reached forward, handing one of the glasses to Alastor. "Lemonade, freshly squeezed," she added.

"Thanks." Alastor took the glass and brought it to his mouth. He breathed a sigh of relief as the sweet drink went down his throat. "Just what I needed!"

"You always say that," Rosie smiled softly.

"It's always true!" Alastor replied as he and Rosie began to slowly walk around the garden. It was quiet as they continued to walk, only the whistle of the wind and the chirping of the birds breaking the silence.

"I was thinking," Alastor started. Rosie turned her head to look at him. "See that spot there?"

"By the tree?" Rosie asked, looking over to the empty plot of dirt by the large, red-leaved tree. She had been meaning to plant some flowers there but simply hadn't gotten around to it yet.

"Yes, that one," Alastor answered, stopping in his tracks and putting one hand on his chin while making general, unspecific hand motions as he continued to speak. "Well, I was thinking that maybe I could put some trellises or stakes down? I could help you grow some grapes, berries, maybe even melons?"

Rosie tilted her head, considering the idea. "That's not a bad thought, Alastor," she said, her eyes twinkling with interest. "I still remember playing around in my uncle's vineyard. I wouldn't mind having one."

Alastor grinned, his enthusiasm growing. "And the berries? You wouldn't have to go out and buy jam whenever you're baking!" He finished his glass of lemonade with a mighty swig, savoring its refreshing tang. "Plus, it'll give me another excuse to spend more time here."

Rosie laughed, a warm sound that mingled with the rustling leaves. "Not that you need one. You're here more often than anyone."

"I live downtown!" Alastor raised his hands defensively. "I don't have a garden of my own to work on."

"Oh, I'm just teasing. You're welcome whenever."

There was another quiet moment, lasting no longer than a minute before Alastor spoke. "So, have I got the green light for it then?"

"Sure," Rosie answered softly, before snapping her head back to Alastor. "But I don't want you to go and buy anything for it. You've already done plenty for me! Tell me what you need, and I'll get it."

Alastor chuckled. "Well, in that case, I'll make sure to draw up a list for you."

"Mail it over whenever you get the chance," Rosie said. "Anyway, come on in, they'll be here soon."