Author's Note: This story originally started with the offhanded mention in "Arrival" about
Hugo's South American Plant Conservatory, something only mentioned in that episode.
But I found the idea of Hugo breeding flowers kind of adorable, so this story came out.
Enjoy!

David barely looked up from his newspaper.

"I'm assuming you're finally going to tell me what you have been working on for
six months."

He dropped the paper down a touch, enough to see the slightly worse-for-wear
face of his son. Hugo grinned broadly, his eyes flashing with something akin to
madness.

"So... do you like it?"

David shrugged.

"What?"

"THIS!"

Hugo shoved something at David's face, obscured by the newspaper. Reluctantly,
David set the paper aside and looked at the object in Hugo's hands. He was
somewhat surprised.

"... A flower?"

"It's my pride and joy, Father."

David gulped.

"It's, um... It's very, um, pink."

That was the understatement of the century. For this flower wasn't pink. No, it
was PINK. A color of pink that hadn't existed until it had found its way into the object
that Hugo now held in his hands. It made David's head split just looking at it
for any length of time. Hugo looked back towards the doorway.

"You know, I never thought myself capable of making something nice on my own.
Like that cake I baked for your 45th birthday."

"Oh, don't remind me."

"Or that scooter I decided to make after reading an article about it in that old Boy's
Own of yours. How many stitches did I need?"

"Fourteen on your head, 25 on your right leg, and 6 on your left hand."

"Oh yeah, that's right. But this..." He stared down lovingly at the flower in
his trembling hands, "I've never felt prouder of creating something. Thank you
for making that conservatory for me. I know you thought of it as a storage
space - I did myself - and then I realized, this space has been made for me to WORK!
And this is what I got out of it!"

David had to admit, deep, deep down within his heart... he was somewhat
impressed. Hugo was an idiot, a total, worthless idiot. But he applied himself
with gusto. He appreciated menial labor more than any man David had ever met,
which meant that every household chore could be foisted upon him and he'd work
on it gladly. That was something to be admired, he supposed. One thing was
still puzzling him though.

"So, if I may ask Hugo..."

"Yes, Father?"

"Why is it so pink?"

Hugo blushed a little. He stared down at his feet bashfully.

"Well, Father, it's, um, so pink because I, uh, I made it for a, ehm, birthday
- ahem - for someone in the village."

"I'd expect it would be someone in the village. You have absolutely no friends
outside of the village. Come to think of it, you don't really have any friends
INSIDE of the village. So, who's it for?"

This was going to be tough.

"Ehm," Hugo started, his tongue tying, "it's well, ehm, it's for, ehm - well,
the thing is Father, this flower is for Alice."

David's face turned to stone.

"For Alice."

"Yes. I, uh, I even named the, ehm, flower after her."

"For... Alice."

"Yes. It's called an Aliceium Tinkerium."

David's face had turned almost the same shade of pink as the flower. He pushed
himself up out of his chair. He was almost ready to smack the flower out of
Hugo's hands and mash it into the ground with his shoe.
For ALICE?! Why did idiots have to attract?!
Good God, his son hadn't won much brainpower in the genetic lottery - or looks,
or charm - but she was such a NOTHING! He gritted his teeth.

"When is her birthday?"

"Today, actually," Hugo said, cowering a little.

This would make it a bit easier.

"Right. Get that flower out of here NOW. I don't want to see it or hear about
it again, do you understand?"

Hugo started to back away quickly.

"Yes Father. Right Father. I'll just shower, and shave, and change, and I'll be
right out, alright? Right out."

"Just DO IT!"

"Right Father."