She'd barely been on Earth a month, and already Olive was quite regretting her decision to volunteer her services. She was an intellect, not a fighter. But she had still expected some important duty, such as puzzling out what Hell's motives were. But really, her only duty thus far had been to keep the world of heaven and hell a secret. Not very exciting work, if you asked her. And meanwhile, as she hovered on the sidelines, Lurkers were growing in number and power each day. But rules were rules, and she was an adamant follower of them. So no intervening with Hell's affairs until she was given the order to do otherwise--even if she quietly thought to herself that she should be at least be allowed to openly research and document Hell's progress. Olive was very factual. She needed charts and data and numbers. Not flowers and dirt.<br/><br/>Her current position as a clerk in a small flower boutique had its perks, however. In between making deliveries and composing different arrangements of bouquets, Olive had plenty of free time to read. Not only that, but she could easily keep tally on the Lurker's victims. Someone had to supply flowers for funerals, after all. Even if there was usually no body to be buried.<br/><br/>The girl was sitting in a stool at the counter, nose in a book, when she heard the bell at the door ring. Glancing up from the pages, Olive dog-eared the novel and set it down. She gave the man a bored look, and asked in a clipped, almost annoyed tone, "And what kind of flowers were you looking for? Anything in particular? For a girlfriend of yours, perhaps?" A thin black eyebrow was raised, inquisitive and also probing. Hopefully this didn't take too long. Earth-novels were fascinating, although ludicrous. A vampire sparkling? Preposterous. The people here had no idea hat they were talking about half the time.