People watching IS a sport
Sep. 24th, 2009 04:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sermocinare(x-posted as usual)
Author: Fireez
Challenge: Blueberry Yoghurt #20 (observation), Molasses #8 (partners in crime) and Fudge Ripple #17 (playfulness)
Rating: G
Word count: 592
Summary: Dee and Irene spend an afternoon in the park.
Author's notes: Total fluff, with a bit of character background for good measure ;). The Tiergarten is, contrary to what the name (animal-garden) might imply, not a zoo, but Berlin's largest park.
“You know, I honestly think that half of the population of Berlin are taking a stroll here right now.” Dee leaned back on the sunny park bench they had occupied, surveying the crowd with lazy interest before taking another lick of his ice cream cone.
They had wandered around the Tiergarten for a while, joining the multitudes of citizen that were, like themselves, out to catch some of the last remnants of the summer’s sunshine and warmth on this mid-September late afternoon. Coming across one of the small ice cream parlors that set up in the park during the summer months, Irene had decided that the best way to say goodbye to the warm season was by getting some sweet, sticky, delicious ice cream, and since Dee was not in the habit of saying no to either Irene or ice cream, they had ordered the largest amount of ice cream that could possibly fit in a cone, and sat down on a bench to enjoy it.
“At least half of them,” Irene commented between slurps, “I’m thinking more like everybody.”
“You see that family over there? With the stroller and the dog?” Dee had laid his free arm over the back of the bench and surreptitiously around Irene’s shoulders, and was now pointing with his index finger towards a couple that was strolling by in the distance.
Irene narrowed her eyes, then grinned: “You mean the man who looks like his poodle?”
“Exactly!” Dee giggled.
A minute later, it was Irene’s turn to point out something interesting:
“Look at them.” She nodded in the direction of a group of young people, about their age or maybe a few years younger, two of whom were carrying something that looked like a stack of pamphlets and a rolled-up flag. “What do you think? Communists or fascists?”
Dee gave the group a critical looking-over, then said with an air of utter certainty:
“Communists.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“For one,” a short pause for nibbling at his cone, “they’re not wearing brown shirts. And since when do the fascists go to a rally without their stupid shirts?”
“Maybe they’re incognito,” Irene remarked.
“Nah.” Dee shook his head and went on: “Also, they don’t look arrogant enough. More like the usual bright-eyed idealist you get with the communists.”
Irene gave him a sideways glance and smirked: “Am I detecting a hint of derision there, Mister card-carrying member of the capitalist oppression?”
Dee arched his eyebrows, pulling off his best impression of an innocent face: “I don’t know what you’re talking about, you bourgeoisie intellectual.”
Irene lauged: “That’s just the professors, Dee. And I’m not one of them. Yet.”
“You’re an assistant to the professor. That’s quite enough bourgeoisie for the reds.” Dee said with a teasing grin.
“Speaking of red… love, you have strawberry ice cream running down your hand.”
“Really? Shit!” Dee sat up, withdrawing his arm and quickly switching the cone from right to left before hastily licking the back of his hand.
“Somebody should invent non-dripping ice cream,” Irene said, and Dee could hear the barely suppressed giggle in her voice.
“Mmmm well,” he remarked, focusing his attention on the still dripping ice cream cone, trying to not get any of the pinkish mess on his shirt or pants, “you’re the chemist, dear.” Once he figured he had the flood under control, he turned back to his girlfriend and said: “I bet that would win you a Nobel Prize” before planting a tender, scandalous and above all very sticky kiss on her cheek.
Author: Fireez
Challenge: Blueberry Yoghurt #20 (observation), Molasses #8 (partners in crime) and Fudge Ripple #17 (playfulness)
Rating: G
Word count: 592
Summary: Dee and Irene spend an afternoon in the park.
Author's notes: Total fluff, with a bit of character background for good measure ;). The Tiergarten is, contrary to what the name (animal-garden) might imply, not a zoo, but Berlin's largest park.
“You know, I honestly think that half of the population of Berlin are taking a stroll here right now.” Dee leaned back on the sunny park bench they had occupied, surveying the crowd with lazy interest before taking another lick of his ice cream cone.
They had wandered around the Tiergarten for a while, joining the multitudes of citizen that were, like themselves, out to catch some of the last remnants of the summer’s sunshine and warmth on this mid-September late afternoon. Coming across one of the small ice cream parlors that set up in the park during the summer months, Irene had decided that the best way to say goodbye to the warm season was by getting some sweet, sticky, delicious ice cream, and since Dee was not in the habit of saying no to either Irene or ice cream, they had ordered the largest amount of ice cream that could possibly fit in a cone, and sat down on a bench to enjoy it.
“At least half of them,” Irene commented between slurps, “I’m thinking more like everybody.”
“You see that family over there? With the stroller and the dog?” Dee had laid his free arm over the back of the bench and surreptitiously around Irene’s shoulders, and was now pointing with his index finger towards a couple that was strolling by in the distance.
Irene narrowed her eyes, then grinned: “You mean the man who looks like his poodle?”
“Exactly!” Dee giggled.
A minute later, it was Irene’s turn to point out something interesting:
“Look at them.” She nodded in the direction of a group of young people, about their age or maybe a few years younger, two of whom were carrying something that looked like a stack of pamphlets and a rolled-up flag. “What do you think? Communists or fascists?”
Dee gave the group a critical looking-over, then said with an air of utter certainty:
“Communists.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“For one,” a short pause for nibbling at his cone, “they’re not wearing brown shirts. And since when do the fascists go to a rally without their stupid shirts?”
“Maybe they’re incognito,” Irene remarked.
“Nah.” Dee shook his head and went on: “Also, they don’t look arrogant enough. More like the usual bright-eyed idealist you get with the communists.”
Irene gave him a sideways glance and smirked: “Am I detecting a hint of derision there, Mister card-carrying member of the capitalist oppression?”
Dee arched his eyebrows, pulling off his best impression of an innocent face: “I don’t know what you’re talking about, you bourgeoisie intellectual.”
Irene lauged: “That’s just the professors, Dee. And I’m not one of them. Yet.”
“You’re an assistant to the professor. That’s quite enough bourgeoisie for the reds.” Dee said with a teasing grin.
“Speaking of red… love, you have strawberry ice cream running down your hand.”
“Really? Shit!” Dee sat up, withdrawing his arm and quickly switching the cone from right to left before hastily licking the back of his hand.
“Somebody should invent non-dripping ice cream,” Irene said, and Dee could hear the barely suppressed giggle in her voice.
“Mmmm well,” he remarked, focusing his attention on the still dripping ice cream cone, trying to not get any of the pinkish mess on his shirt or pants, “you’re the chemist, dear.” Once he figured he had the flood under control, he turned back to his girlfriend and said: “I bet that would win you a Nobel Prize” before planting a tender, scandalous and above all very sticky kiss on her cheek.
