Agatha hummed a death march cheerfully to herself as she dusted the shelves in the shop. Barrel hadn't come in to talk to her since their date, but she'd found a small bouquet of flowers outside their door one evening with a card attached to it, written in his handwriting. She wondered how much time he had spent learning her schedule so that he could deliver the gift unseen. Of course, handing it to her himself would be too cliche for him; going the subtle and mysterious route was much more his thing. She was touched by how personal the gesture was.