Hello again, friends! I have another little story here for you; a Spandy story, in particular. I was inspired to write this after reading a very kind review from a person called 'umi', who said that they loved all my Spandy stories and hoped that I would write more. Well, umi, this is for you!

Disclaimer: I do not own SpongeBob SquarePants or any of its characters.

Flowery Poems

~French Narrator~

"Ah, a lovely, quiet Saturday evening in wonderful Bikini Bottom. The sun is setting, the mood is calm, and the water is filled with the contagious laughter of our favorite undersea sponge – SpongeBob SquarePants. Oh, what's this? He does not seem to be alone this evening. Let us see what he and Sandy are chatting about."

The sky was filled with beautiful orange hues as the two friends made their way towards the sponge's pineapple, laughing and sharing the joy of each other's company.

"Dahahaha! Boy, that was some petting zoo, ay, Sandy?" asked SpongeBob, thinking fondly about the fun-filled day they had just experienced.

"Pettin' zoo? Heck, that wasn't no pettin' zoo. The little critters spent all their precious time runnin' around and stealin' people's sandwiches," replied Sandy, who was in a very jovial mood.

Her words only made the springy sponge laugh even harder, which she quickly joined into only moments later.

They had reached their destination. "Well, thanks for the walk home, Sandy. Although I'm sure you know I could've handled it myself," he said, smiling up at her as they stood outside of the giant fruit.

Sandy scoffed at his words. "Yeah, sure. That's what you said earlier when you were playin' tug of war with that worm."

"Hey! What else was I supposed to do? He had my popcorn. Besides, I think I did a pretty good job at handling it," he replied, placing his hands on his hips as he showed off his smug smile.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Sure. If ya call being dragged all the way to the port-o-potty and gettin' dunked in the toilet 'handling it'."

The sponge felt the embarrassment creeping up on him, causing him to back off from his ego. "Eesh, you're right about that. Well, Gary must be starved, I'd better get in there. Thanks for the fun day, Sandy!"

"No, thank you. I got a real kick out of seein' you used as a plunger," she laughed.

SpongeBob rolled his eyes as he playfully bounced his head from side to side. "Hardy har har, that's all I have to say."

"You just said more by sayin' that last part," she pointed out.

"Darn it! Goodnight, Sandy. See you later," he waved to her as he headed for the steel door of his home.

"Night, SquarePlunge!" she said jokingly while waving back.

Her little remark caused his cheeks to flush deep pink. He stood in the doorway, holding the door open a crack so that he could watch her disappear down the road.

He sighed dreamily to himself. Ahh, what was a sponge to do with himself? His delicate little heart almost couldn't take the pressure that her charm dispensed upon him.

"Meow? (What are you doing?)"

"AHHH!" SpongeBob screeched in fear of his pet snail, who had snuck up behind him.

"Oh, hey, Gary. Whatcha been up to?"

"Meow (Oh, nothing special. Just finished watching the newest episode of that new western show.)"

SpongeBob lit up at the mention of it. "Ooh, you mean that one with the lady who was rescued by that mysterious cowboy dressed in black?"

"Meow (Yep, that's the one.)"

"Ooh!" the sponge jumped in excitement. "Maybe if I hurried feeding you and brushing my teeth, I could catch the rerun! Ooh, I'll go get your dinner right now!" he dashed into the kitchen.

The snail was surprised by his giddiness. "Meow (Gee, never seen him so excited to open a can. Oh, wait, what am I saying? This is Papa-Bob I'm talking about.)"

Gary slithered his way into the kitchen and watched as his owner opened the usual can of Snail-Po. "Oh, Gary, Sandy's so funny. She called me 'SquarePlunge' after I got my head dunked into a toilet! Dahaha!" laughed SpongeBob as he fumbled with the can opener.

Gary cocked a brow. "Meow (She was insulting you.)"

"I know! Isn't it great?" he bit his lip in a smile.

Well, it wasn't exactly unlike SpongeBob to not quite understand an insult. After all, Squidward hurled whatever cruel, vicious words he could at him on a daily basis, and the sponge still took them as compliments!

"Here you go, Gare." He set the green food bowl down in front of the snail.

SpongeBob let out another dreamy sigh. "Ahh. Sandy's so pretty and kind, I'll bet everyone just loved her back home in Texas. And she's so smart, too. Whew. You know, there was this one time where she…"

Gary stared up at his owner as he gushed about his furry friend. The sponge rambled on and on until his words seemed to get jumbled up together to the point where it didn't even sound like English. Basically, all the snail could hear was, "Wa, wa, wa, wa, wa, wa, wa… Wa!"

"She's really something special, Gary. Her voice is strong like an age-old oak tree, yet as soft and delicate as the velvety petals of a red, red rose."

The sudden eloquent language of his usually simple-minded owner came as a shock to the snail. Since when did he speak like this, other than when he was in the presence of a Krabby Patty? It was almost… Poetic. In fact, after Gary thought for a few moments, he recalled quite a few times earlier that week when the sponge had uttered some sort of interesting choice of words.

"Meow? (You okay?)"

SpongeBob was snapped out of his trance and glanced down at his pet. "Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm just fine, Gary. I'm going to go make these teeth extra squeaky clean and jump into some cozy pj's before I catch up with that show! Be back soon, Gare!" he sang the last part of his sentence as he marched out of the kitchen.

Well, this was certainly interesting. Papa-Bob had a crush on Sandy, and it seemed to bring out his smart, poetic side a little bit! Gary wondered if Sandy had any clue about his feelings, or better yet if she possibly felt the same way.

Yes, this was interesting… Very interesting indeed. Gary's mischievous side was kicking in the more he thought about Papa-Bob's little secret.

He grinned widely before he made a point to slurp up his food as fast as he could. The little busybody had plans.

~French Narrator~

"One tube of toothpaste later."

"Sheesh, that was a bad idea! Gary, don't ever try to get the seal off of toothpaste by putting it through the wringer. Now all those towels have to be cleaned," SpongeBob explained as he came into the living room.

"Meow (No worries there.)" The snail then casually slithered his way towards the stairs.

"Hey, where ya going, Gare? Aren't you gonna watch the rerun with me?" asked SpongeBob, a bit disappointed.

Gary turned around to look at him. "Meow, meow (Nah, don't worry, I'll be re-watching that thing all day tomorrow. I'm sleepy. Goodnight, Papa-Bob.)"

SpongeBob smiled. "Okay, go get some shuteye, you little rascal you!"

Gary faked a wide grin and headed up the stairs.

Sure, he'd get some shuteye… Right after he wrote a little something for a certain someone to read.

The next two and a half hours of Gary's time were spent writing a little sweet note for good ol' miss Sandy. The snail sat at his owner's desk in the mostly darkened room, writing down some of the words that had come from Papa-Bob's mouth earlier that evening.

He stared down at the piece of paper that was illuminated by the dim lamp. Gary paused; pencil gripped between his teeth as he looked out the window at the glowing moon.

The letter was almost finished. Just one more word… But wait! He almost forgot to mention what Papa-Bob had said about Sandy's voice.

Moments later, it was done. Voila! "Meow! (Ooh, she's going to get a real surprise when she wakes up- )"

"Hmm, hmm, hmm, La, dee, dee," a familiar voice hummed.

Oh, no! Papa-Bob must've finished with his program.

The snail hastily turned off the lamp, jumped from the desk, paper in mouth, and managed to do one more thing before-

"Gary, that was a fantastic episode! I just loved every minute of it," the sponge yawned, stretching out his arms. "But now it's time for bed." He hopped up onto his tall mattress and pulled the cover over himself. "Goodnight, Gare."

"Meow (Goodnight.)" That response didn't come from Gary himself, who was now on his way to Sandy's Treedome. Little did the sponge know, there was a tape recorder hidden under his bed that had uttered that reply. Very clever little snail indeed.

The next morning…

As part of her yearly summer tradition, Sandy had planted a little flowerbed of colorful flowers right under her oak tree.

"Hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm," she happily hummed to herself, dressed in her gardening hat and gloves as she tended to the flowers.

She inhaled with delight. "Ahh, nothin' like a little sweet air in the summertime!"

She took her watering pot and poured it gently over the delicate blooms. Suddenly, the sound of crunching could be heard.

"Huh? What is that?" she stuck her hand down into the soil to partially pull out a nematode. "Hey, just what do ya think you're doin' messin' with my hard work?!" she pulled harder until the creature came fully out, holding something in its mouth.

"What in tarnation?" she questioned, now filled with curiosity at her findings.

She pulled the nematode off and uncrumpled the paper. What was written wasn't anything she could've expected.

Your eyes are as dreamy as the dark night sky, swirling and sparkling till the day you die

Your heart is as big as the shining moon above, filled with kindness, compassion, and never-ending love

Your soul flies as high as the fragile scallops do, touching and filling everyone you meet, through and through

Your smile is as elegant as the crystal-clear water; warm, inviting, how it makes my heart flutter

But most of all, my love, your voice is as strong as the strongest of age-old oak trees, yet soft and velvety as a red, red rose, oh, how dear you are to me.

Sandy was speechless. Who could've written such a heartfelt thing? Especially to someone as tough as her? Then again, she did have a soft side from time to time.

"Oh, my… If only Granny Cheeks were here to see this thing…" she spoke aloud to herself.

Gary sat outside of the Treedome, watching as Sandy's breath was taken away by his, or rather Papa-Bob's, special delivery. After all, they were his words… He just didn't know they had been written down for him.

She didn't know what to do with herself. Whoever had written this little lovefest of a poem must've been someone special.

Oh, if only she had a single clue.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I'm not too sure how many chapters this story will have… I don't think it'll be very long, as I kind of already have a pretty good idea of how it will go. Stay tuned.