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Post by DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS on Mar 22, 2012 2:39:26 GMT -5
Peter Aramis believed that it was the simple things in life that made it the most special. Rushing around like a chicken with your head cut off got you nowhere. To be cliche, you had to stop and smell the roses before they were on your casket.
For Peter, there was no better way to enjoy himself than to spend time with young people. Most of the time, if he wasn't working one of his jobs, he could be found on the basketball court at one of the Brooklyn community centers. There was always a group of kids who wanted to play, and if they were playing, it kept them out of trouble. What they really loved was showing up their cop mentor. His basketball scholarships were just a challenge to these kids, and they ran him just as ragged as he ran them.
Not today. Today, he was going to teach them a new kind of ball game that he was sure none of the kids had the opportunity to learn. Of course, hearing that, most of the kids had opted to stay at the community center. He had himself a pretty pathetic looking team with just Jamal and Cory coming down to the park with him. But with just two of them there today, well, maybe he could give them the attention they needed. Besides, if the whole ball idea didn't work out, Baze had tagged along, and the boys could always wear him out.
"Alright, Boyos, the name of the game is Soccer. You've seen it on TV, you've heard about it through the burrows, and now you get to learn the basics," Peter said dramatically, bending over to grab a black and white ball out of his bag once they had found a fairly deserted part of the park.
"You need teams to play soccer," Jamal pointed out needlessly.
"Yeah, but you can't play a game until you learn how to control the ball," Peter replied. "Both of you go long."
"What? We're going to pass the ball between the three of us?" Cory asked, looking doubtful.
Peter felt like sighing. He had invited Lestrade along, and he hoped he'd show up. After all, Soccer was his game. For now, Peter was making this up as he went along. He'd googled the rules and watched some plays the night before, but that was about it. He doubted the kids knew any different, but he still wanted to teach them right.
"Hey, all you have to do is kick it...and keep it away from Baze. Not that hard, right?"
Baze barked in excitement, twisting around Peter's legs. Oh, this was going to be interesting...
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Post by GREGORY LESTRADE on Mar 22, 2012 18:40:14 GMT -5
Lestrade wasn't entirely sure what to think when Aramis had called him up for a game of soccer. It was odd, really, seeing as offers like that were usually more out of courtesy than actual intention. They'd not met much since the time he'd shamefully gone off on the younger officer, besides a few hullos and how do you dos whilst passing each other in the halls of the police stations. Still, Lestrade was rather curious, and had accepted the offer.
He wondered what he would find waiting for him in the burrows; after all, what if Aramis was dramatically different outside of work. What if he was Peter? Lestrade hadn't thought much about who Peter until now. He wondered what the were even to call each other today. Not that he'd particularly mind being called Greg, but, still… it was just a bit weird.
And what if the kids hated him? God knows they had reasons to. An old white guy invading their personal time with their favourite young copper who was more on their aide than the police's. Of course, perhaps they were just the American equivalent of what he and his brother and Pete had been back nearly three decades ago. He was suddenly hit with the not new, but still starling realisation that he probably would have arrested his teenage self. He decided that even if the kids were punks, he'd make a valiant effort to seem not seem like a hinderance - another one of Aramis' charity cases - and more like a mate.
He wasn't completely confident that he could keep up that particular effort for too long.
When he arrived, Lestrade was feeling pathetically nervous for a quick game of football with some random kids and his subordinate. He was wearing an old grey t-shirt and shorts, and so he'd certainly look casual to Aramis, who had only ever seen him in dress clothes, minimum, but he was still worrying about seeming to posh for street kids. They were unessesary worries, but he couldn't help it. He consoled himself by thinking that kids were amused by accents.
He was quickly relieved when he saw only two kids looking slightly amused by Aramis' attempt at instructing them how to juggle the ball. He put his worries beside and walked forward, smiling, ignoring the kids' new look of 'who the fuck is this?'
"Aramis," he greeted, sounding a little too peppy.
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Post by DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS on Mar 25, 2012 22:50:42 GMT -5
Peter watched as the boys tentatively kicked at the ball. He supposed it wasn’t a bad first effort. They got in heck when they kicked the basketball, and the football rarely got kicked.
“That’s it. You just have to get your foot up under it,” Peter offered helpfully, gesturing how with his foot, even though he was pretty clueless.
"Aramis.”
Peter turned and beamed when he heard Lestrade call for him. He wasn’t sure the man would show, but he was quite pleased that he had. He sounded upbeat, and definitely not like someone who was being forced to participate against their will. Heck, he even looked relaxed in his t-shirt and shorts, almost like an average Joe. Peter had to admit that the casual look really worked for him.
“Lestrade!” Peter beamed. “Glad you made it!”
”What kind of a name is Lestrade?” Jamal asked, all attitude, as usual.
“The kind that usually has Inspector in front of it,” Peter called back, turning his attention back to Lestrade. “Don’t mind them – they think they’re funny.”
Peter smiled at Lestrade, happy he was there. He was really hoping that a day outside the station would make up for their last fiasco of a meeting. All he had to do was not act like an idiot and he might pull it off. That’s why he’d suggested soccer. At least if he acted like an idiot, it could be blamed on the foreignness of the day.
“Sorry, I should introduce you. The tall one with the smart mouth is Jamal, and the one trying to keep the ball away from the dog is Cory. And of course, the dog is Baze.”
Baze bounced around Cory's feet, jumping for the ball until the boy finally thew it at his friend. Jamal tried to dribble it and Peter frowned a bit.
"And clearly, we know nothing about soccer and can definitely use any tips you might have for us," he pointed out needlessly. "So, up for the challenge?"
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Post by GREGORY LESTRADE on Mar 26, 2012 20:49:21 GMT -5
Lestrade smile when Aramis seemed genuinely happy to see him. And called him Lestrade. He hid a smile when the taller of the boys made a smart comment on his unusual last name. Well, it wasn’t all that unusual, not over in Ireland, but he suppose he was here. He’s never really thought of his own name as funny, but he could see, saying it aloud a few times, how it might be weird.
“You can call me Greg, if you want,” Lestrade said awkwardly. He didn’t exactly sound pathetic, but he still felt like he’d already lost some small fight with the kid. It made him happy, for some reason.
Aramis cheerfully introduced the two boys as Jamal and Cory, and the dog as Baze. Lestrade had never exactly liked dogs all that much, but he was comfortable enough around them to find it amusing the kids tried to keep the football away from the jumpy animal by dribbling in like a basketball.
“And clearly, we know nothing about soccer and can definitely use any tips you might have for us,” Aramis said, jokingly sounding weak, but Lestrade could tell it was playful sarcasm. “So, up for the challenge?”
“I suppose so,” Lestrade answered truthfully. He supposed so.
Looking at the two kips screeching at the large dog in the field, Lestrade wondered what he was actually going to be doing today. Were they just going to… kick it around, then? He wasn’t sure. After standing still for a moment and glancing at Aramis, he ended up forcing himself to stop thinking and just do something.
So he just ran over to the boys, easily dribbled the ball away from the two kids and energized but uncoordinated dog and a few yards away. He decided introductions weren’t necessary in sports.
“Well, come on then,” he said in a bit of a teasing voice. “Can’t you do better than that? It’s called football for a reason.” He forgot to call it soccer, then, but he assumed the boys were old and smart enough to either figure out what he meant or know that the rest of the bloody world called in football anyway.
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Post by DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS on Apr 2, 2012 2:29:55 GMT -5
Peter beamed when Lestrade asked to be called Greg. Not even Gregory, but Greg. He liked that a lot better. If he was honest with himself, he thought last names were a way to keep division between people. Having grown up as the younger of the Aramis detectives on the force, he was more than aware of this. First names were much better.
He watched as Greg jumped right in, running at the kids and stealing the ball away. He even laughed when Greg asked them “Can’t you do better than that? It’s called football for a reason.” Oh, that was the way to get the boys into it – challenge them.
”This ain’t football,” Jamal scoffed, following Greg, Cory doing the same on the other side of the man. “This is America, Greg.”
The boys may not have known the sport, but they knew how to work together as a team to get what they wanted. Greg had the skill, though, so it could have gone either way. Peter spied Baze, chasing the boys, and figured that he should jump on in.
“The whole world calls this Football,” Peter said, playfully getting between Cory and Greg. “Cops against Civies – what d’ya say, Greg? Boys, you get Baze.”
It seemed only fair. He was probably worse at this than the boys were, but the dog would hinder both teams. He winked over at Greg, thinking that this was going to be fun.
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Post by GREGORY LESTRADE on Apr 2, 2012 8:19:53 GMT -5
”This ain’t football.”
“This is America, Greg.”
Lestrade smirked at the two boys who, despite their protests, followed him anyways and unsuccessfully tried to kick the ball away from him. Lestrade might not speak much, but he certainly knew how to keep his game.
“The whole world calls this Football,” Aramis corrected the boys helpfully. He seemed rather amused by all of this. “Cops against Civies – what d’ya say, Greg? Boys, you get Baze.”
Lestrade looked over at Peter, a little startled that Aramis had called him Greg, as he’s just meant for that invitation to be extended to the kids. Apparently Aramis had assumed he had meant him too. Ah, well, as long as he was still Sir at work. And as long as he could still call Aramis Aramis, because Aramis was Aramis and Peter was someone else who Lestrade didn’t really know the difference between.
“Sure, why not,” he shrugged. Mock-whispering to the boys, he said, “Obviously your friend here is as terrible at soccer as he is at remembering to wear shoes at work, so you needn't defend him too much” he joked, winking back at Aramis. It was cheesy, but whatever, it was fun.
They then proceeded to play the game, which turned out to be pathetically unruly, but quite fun. Everyone got loads of mud caked onto their clothes and shoes from the damp Spring, but it was still plenty of fun. Though, it did involve a large number of fouls and the continuous reminded of, "Come on boys, this isn't basketball, no hands!"
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Post by DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS on Apr 4, 2012 17:21:20 GMT -5
“Obviously your friend here is as terrible at soccer as he is at remembering to wear shoes at work, so you needn't defend him too much”
Peter smirked as Lestrade made friends with the boys by making fun of him. He knew it was all in good fun.
“Hey, at least I have spare shoes in my desk,” Peter reasoned. “I’ll catch onto this soccer thing, too!”
The game was on then, and it was mostly Peter tripping over his own feet, the boys pushing, shoving, and using their hands on the ball, while Lestrade danced around with the ball like it was an extension of his feet. Still, it was fun.
After being shoved over for the fourth or fifth time, Peter stayed down, chuckling as he felt the mud and muck seeping into his clothing. He was a country kid. Getting dirty didn’t phase him in the slightest. Baze seemed to have the same idea, flopping down beside his master as the boys still chased Lestrade. He was honestly tired from all the play. Working all week and then closing out the bar last night had really done him in. A simple game of soccer had him beat.
“What’re you doing, man?” Jamal called.
“I’m taking a breather. You all keep playing.”
”Man, you gotta get in shape,” Cory threw in. “You should be running circles around us.”
Peter raised an eyebrow. He may not be able to run circles around them physically, but mentally...
“Hey Cory – dumb hoods say what?” Peter asked.
“What?” the boy called back.
Peter smiled as Jamal laughed and Cory groaned. “Lestrade! I think you’re wearing them out.”
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Post by GREGORY LESTRADE on Apr 5, 2012 12:52:34 GMT -5
Despite Lestrade's previous worry, the match turned out fine, if not full of highly illegal moves on the boys' and partially Aramis' parts. And it was fun. he'd always liked soccer, loved it as a child really, but what he was truthfully most enjoying were the kids. The being around people who had lives outside of murder made him swell with the happiness that could only, for him, come from being in the presence of other human beings. In fact, people were a cure for him, often.
Lestrade laughed when Aramis flopped into the muddy ground, obviously not caring about the wet and breathing in a way that naturally comes with exertion. He was getting a bit tired as well, but unlike Aramis, he did have a little bit of a problem with getting dirty. As a kid, he'd practically lived in his own filth, which can lead to two things in adulthood: he could either not care a thing about messes for the rest of his life, or become a little obsessive about keeping things neat. Obviously he'd taken up the latter option.
“What’re you doing, man?” Jamal asked Aramis, looking down at him with (what Lestrade hoped was) mock disgust.
“I’m taking a breather. You all keep playing," Aramis replied.
”Man, you gotta get in shape. You should be running circles around us," Cory pointed out, and Lestrade laughed again, because it was quite true, he was afraid.
“Hey Cory – dumb hoods say what?” Oh, right clever clock.
“What?” Hook line and sinker. Aramis joined in his and Jamal's laughter at the cheep but effective trick.
“Lestrade! I think you’re wearing them out," Aramis joked.
"I'm wearing them out?" Lestrade replied grinning, "You see, I'm afraid Cory is quite right, aren't you boy? I'm an old man, you're the young police officer, you shouldn't be tired already!" It was technically true, but Lestrade was really only kidding. He hoped it would come across well enough.
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Post by DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS on Apr 5, 2012 15:47:13 GMT -5
"I'm wearing them out? You see, I'm afraid Cory is quite right, aren't you boy? I'm an old man, you're the young police officer, you shouldn't be tired already!"
Peter looked at Lestrade for a moment before laughing, falling back so he was laid out completely in the mud. Lestrade wasn’t old. That was like saying the sky was green. He was still a good looking man who could clearly keep up.
“You usin’ that old man talk as an excuse?” Peter finally asked, grinning at Lestrade. “Because this young, fit, police officer is just getting revved up for round two. And then we’ll see who’s old.”
“From the sounds of it, both of y’all are old,” Jamal taunted.
“Sure hope I don’t get that old and lazy,” Cory threw in.
“Pfft. Right. Baze, go get the kids,” Peter ordered, watching as the dog bounded up to go chase the boys.
The boys had sense enough to start running, otherwise they'd get knocked over. Peter watched for a moment before hauling himself back to his feet.
"So, having fun?" Peter asked Lestrade, hoping that was the case. That was the whole point, after all - to have fun.
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Post by GREGORY LESTRADE on Apr 5, 2012 23:08:28 GMT -5
“You usin’ that old man talk as an excuse?” Aramis laughed, flopping full-out on his back in the mud. Lestrade gave him an amused lift of one eyebrow, but didn't comment.
"Because this young, fit, police officer is just getting revved up for round two. And then we’ll see who’s old.”
Lestrade chuckled, "Oh were you now?" He found teasing Aramis was actually quite amusing.
Jamal: “From the sounds of it, both of y’all are old."
Cory: “Sure hope I don’t get that old and lazy."
Peter: “Pfft. Right. Baze, go get the kids."
Lestrade just laughed as the boys poked fun at the adults before Aramis sicced his dog on them in an amusing show of retaliation.
"So, having fun?" Peter asked Lestrade, finally standing up from the ground.
Was he having fun?
Yes.
It actually surprised him, how much fun he was having with these kids and Aramis. He'd have never expected it, really. He'd thought this might just be a bit of a laugh, but it was so much more by now. It was great.
"I am," Lestrade said, a slight look of surprise on his face beforehe full-out smiled, a completely honest and almost rare smile. "I really am." He shook his head at the ground. "I hadn't expected to, but… Well, I'm really enjoying this." He paused, before adding, "Thanks for inviting me."
He was a little embarassed with his short speech, but it was true, and he couldn't argue with that.
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Post by DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS on Apr 6, 2012 19:10:23 GMT -5
"I am. I really am. I hadn't expected to, but… Well, I'm really enjoying this. Thanks for inviting me."
Peter couldn’t help but smile back at the happy look on Lestrade’s face. He had hoped he would come, and had slightly given himself a bit of hope that he’d enjoy himself. Seeing how happy Lestrade seemed to be, he had to throw all those expectations right out the window. Right then, it made him far happier than he thought he’d be.
“I’m really glad you came,” Peter replied, offering Lestrade a smile. “These kids need to see that there are good cops.”
It was true. They had such a negative view on life, mostly about authority. They had tolerated Peter because he was a big kid, young enough to be relatable. For someone Lestrade’s age to be seen as ok, even approachable was huge. And for Lestrade to see what good kids they were, even if they were little smart mouths, was even bigger. Peter knew most cops seemed to forget that. They saw the delinquent behavior and they forgot that they were just kids and they needed something, and this was how they acted out.
“And I have to say, you keep up pretty well! Ever played basketball?” Peter asked, thinking it would be good for him to play their game. “These kids could be pros at that game.”
It was true. They just needed a bit of focus and encouragement to get there instead of getting involved with the all the bullshit that their older brothers and cousins pulled on the streets.
“They just love it when new people come around to show off to,” Peter added with a chuckle. “And if they end up showing us up, well, all the better in their opinion.”
He paused a bit, watching the boys try to keep the ball from Baze by tossing it back and forth. He was afraid this ‘no hands’ rule didn’t take very well. It probably never would with how avid they knew Basketball and baseball. It was like changing your entire view of the universe over on its head. It worked for an afternoon, but that was about it.
“And, well, what I’ve been babbling around is that you’re welcome to come back, any time you want,” Peter said earnestly. “I mean, it’s not always sunshine and roses, but...it’s worth it.”
And that’s all it came down to.
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Post by GREGORY LESTRADE on Apr 7, 2012 0:14:13 GMT -5
“I’m really glad you came. These kids need to see that there are good cops," Aramis replied smiling. Lestrade understood what he meant; hell, he'd had his fair share of hating cops as a kid himself. They got in the way, the smarmy, lazy old donut-eating white men! But then, they weren't. And the people they arrested weren't always slobbering black men with sagging pants who were high off their asses, either. Racism was a clever plague that nearly everyone subconsciously succumbed to nearly at birth.
“And I have to say, you keep up pretty well! Ever played basketball? These kids could be pros at that game. They just love it when new people come around to show off to, and if they end up showing us up, well, all the better in their opinion.”
Lestrade thought about it. He wanted to say yes, of course, immediately, in a heart beat. But then he thought of McCourt and he wanted to decline. He couldn't get attached to someone with such high stakes; with his high stakes. He wanted to protect himself.
“And, well, what I’ve been babbling around is that you’re welcome to come back, any time you want. I mean, it’s not always sunshine and roses, but...it’s worth it."
And yet, he heard quite clearly through his own lips: "Alright." And maybe it would be; of course it would be. It had to be. God would…
…But god was dead, just like McCourt.
"That seems like it might be fun." He forced himself to stop, stop thinking, and smiled and nodded. And it was honest, if not slightly distracted. "You name it."
He looked over at the boys holding the football, grinning. "Thank you." God might be dead, but maybe, if there was any hope left in the world, natural balance wasn't.
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Post by DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS on Apr 7, 2012 4:18:11 GMT -5
"Alright. That seems like it might be fun. You name it."
Peter beamed. If he didn't work with the man, he might have just given into temptation and kissed him. He had a very different opinion of the man now than he did last week or even earlier in the day. Peter wasn't sure when it had magically switched for him, but he was glad he saw him as more than an overbearing Detective Inspector now.
"Hey, anytime you're off work and it's after school hours, they all play over at the community center. Weekends are best - they go all day," Peter told Lestrade, hoping he would drop in. "Just tag on home with me and we'll see how good you do with your arms!"
After all that 'no hands' talk, Peter was curious to see what he would do with a basketball.
"Thank you."
"Honestly, thank you. You kept the kids busy. I would have just been laughed at all on my own with a soccer ball. We raise Football players where I'm from - the other football, that is," he replied, still beaming at the man.
He watched as the boys brought it in, Baze still whining. The soccer ball was getting locked in his closet the moment he got home. Otherwise, it was going to be popped in minutes. Baze was definitely going to chew it.
"Yo, Pete - you conscious enough to walk home?" Cory asked, clearly still digging at Peter for the dumb hood comment. Calling him Pete was a jibe he often rose to.
"Man, if we have to find you a wheel chair, Greg here is pushing you home," Jamal threw in. "I'm too hungry to mess around with that."
"Here that, Greg? Cora and Jammy think I'm old." Peter swung an arm around Cory's neck, bringing the boy into a loose headlock. "I think I've just done a clever job of making them think that. Now they might let me win once in a while."
Both boys snorted and Peter rolled his eyes. "Alright, I can hear your stomachs growling. What do you monkeys say to Greg?"
"Thanks for the game, man," Jamal offered, holding his hand out for a fist-bump. "Sure made up for lazy Pete."
"Yeah, even if it was Soccer," Cory tossed in, and Peter tightened his arms a little. "It was fun, though."
Peter smiled at the boys, thrilled they had learned something in all the years he'd been trying to drive common courtesies into them. Well, their mothers helped, he was sure.
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Post by GREGORY LESTRADE on Apr 7, 2012 22:42:13 GMT -5
Aramis invited Lestrade to drop by any time, and Lestrade nodded, smiling. He didn’t care about… attachment at the moment. No, no, he had stayed too distant, too far away for so long, and all it had brought him was the simple unfortunate circumstances of having his best friend a sociopath. So yes, he decided, he had to loosen up, just a little bit. Perhaps everything he had decided so long ago was finally fading. Perhaps making connections that caused pain were better than no connections at all? He didn’t know what was better, though. He was still holding on to his hesitancy; old habits die hard. Especially ones so deeply routed in what he thought were for his own self-interest.
"Honestly, thank you. You kept the kids busy. I would have just been laughed at all on my own with a soccer ball. We raise Football players where I'm from - the other football, that is,” Aramis smiled back.
Lestrade chuckled, precautions be damned. “Well, I haven’t done much,” he said, looking down and shoving his hands into his pockets. He kept his smile towards the ground. Maybe getting rid of old habits made way for others to resurface. And, seeing as Aramis had just seen him run around like a kid for an hour, he didn’t mind that his casualness was showing.
Lestrade looked up when the boys started complaining about their stomachs growling. He smiled at them, a wider smile, more with his eyes than anything. He thought of the kids in front of him, and the child he had created back home, and the woman he’d created her with. He thought of McCourt. He forced himself to think about only the ones in front of him. He shouldn’t have such… attachment problems anymore, it was such a wussy quality. And yet…
Both Jamal and Cory offered their compliments towards him, in their own ways, and Lestrade awkwardly bumped fists with Jamal, smirking slightly at how ridiculous he must look to anyone used to his uptight work persona.
“It was fun, though.”
“I’m glad,” Lestrade said warmly. “Hopefully I’ll see you guys around sometime.” And not because you’ve been arrested, but… “Aramis invited me over for basketball sometime. Though, I’m rather… horrible at it.” He laughed, only slightly forced at first, but quite real by the end.
He looked towards Aramis. “Well, I’ll see you around, then. Cheers mate.” He turned and walked towards where he had parked his car, looking back to give Aramis a quick motion with two fingers from forward and outward. “See you.” He turned back the direction he was walking, and smiled. It occurred to him that he had not had this fun on a day off in, well… He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had so much fun. And wasn’t that a miracle?
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Post by DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS on Apr 8, 2012 23:43:07 GMT -5
Peter watched as Lestrade awkwardly first bumped back. Yeah, he was catching on. The boys didn’t fist bump with people they didn’t appreciate. He was pleased that they knew how to say thank you to people.
“I’m glad. Hopefully I’ll see you guys around sometime. Aramis invited me over for basketball sometime. Though, I’m rather… horrible at it.”
Peter held in his chuckle at the devious looks the boys were sporting. Oh, you never told them you were bad at something. They were pretty good at taking those weaknesses and stomping all over them with gleeful smiles. However, you had a good time letting them stomp all over you.
“Well, I’ll see you around, then. Cheers mate. See you.” Lestrade addressed him as he walked away with a salute, and Peter nodded.
“Yeah, see you at work, Greg!” Peter called after him. “Alright, let’s get going, boys.”
“You really think he’ll come play some real ball with us?” Jamal asked, soccer ball under his arm, Baze whining at him.
“Of course. He said he would.”
“Adults don’t do what they say,” Cory pointed out, working his way out of the headlock.
“And what am I, then?” Peter asked, thinking he was definitely an adult.
“You’re a cowboy.” Jamal smirked. “They do what they say, grown up or not.”
“Cowboy or not, you owe us cheeseburgers and fries and milkshakes,” Cory pointed out.
Baze barked joyfully. Oh, he knew what the word ‘cheeseburger’ meant.
“Of course I do. I promised,” Peter replied. “Saddle up, boys. Let’s go rustle some grub.”
They both rolled their eyes and Peter smiled. It had been a good day and he was really hoping that Lestrade would come back and show them what a promise from an adult should be.
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