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Post by DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS on Jan 31, 2013 13:32:41 GMT -5
"Bit out of our league, professionally.”
Peter snorted a bit. Oh, he was in everyone’s league. A profession was only a day job, after all. But even with his reputation, he did have a few secrets to keep, and he did have a few secrets on a few judges out there. No, he hadn’t managed to shack up with any, but there were a lot of skeletons he was aware of. Lawyers were more his cup of tea in the shacking department. Though, he did find it rather amusing when he ran into big shot lawyers who used to be sweet little law students who he’d had in his bed once upon a time...
"Oh, I don't know, something about you shacking up with Judge Harrod."
“Which is still a thought more disturbing than most,” he offered, making a face, even though Greg was clearly just bugging him. He leaned a bit more against Greg, trying to think of anything else.
Leave it to Greg to read his mind.
"Fancy a treat? Dessert before dinner."
“You and my mother would not get along,” Peter chuckled. “Yeah, I’d fancy dessert.”
When didn’t he? It was no secret that he had a sweet tooth that could take on a sugar mill. He’d eat sugar out of the bag if he let himself, so he didn’t keep it in the apartment. His mother never let him eat dessert first just because she knew him too well and would have told Greg so...after telling him how he was going to burn in hell right along with her ex-son...and wasn’t that a great reality check.
Peter sat up a bit, pulling on his knees to stretch his back a bit. He wasn’t used to just sitting and being still. He could force himself through it for paperwork, but even TV watching found him moving to the kitchen during commercial breaks or pacing behind the couch. Needless to say that just sitting and listening to noise had been a challenge. It also let him put distance between them without looking weird, or he hoped so.
“I...uh, what did you have in mind? If you’d rather eat dinner first, that’s fine. I mean, you don’t have to do anything on my account.”
And suddenly it was awkward again.
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Post by GREGORY LESTRADE on Feb 3, 2013 0:01:44 GMT -5
Greg was happy when Peter leaned against him, smiling, “You and my mother would not get along. Yeah, I’d fancy dessert.” 'Fancy' was hardly a Peter-word, and Greg smiled at the repeat of phrase. And anyways, Peter and he certainly shared an unfortunately obsession with sugary treats; perhaps not the best thing, to be dating someone who would hardly stop urge him to resisted from over-indulging in sugar, but they certainly had fun picking out foods, at any rate. Sometimes Greg wondered how he had made it well into his forties without developing diabetes - thank God.
Restless as he was, Peter stretched his back, asked, “I...uh, what did you have in mind? If you’d rather eat dinner first, that’s fine. I mean, you don’t have to do anything on my account.”
There was certain level of a forced smile when Peter naturally fell into insecurity - but Greg had gotten more or less used to backpedaling the conversation by now, even if there was a level of guilt that came with ignorance.
"Well, I want to,"[/color][/b] he said lightly, nodding again towards the ice cream. "And that looks awfully good, hmm?"[/b] He stood, motioned for Peter to stand too, so they could walk over and get some.
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Post by DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS on Feb 6, 2013 0:59:42 GMT -5
"Well, I want to, and that looks awfully good, hmm?"
Peter glanced at where there was an ice cream stand, his eyes widening a bit, his previous worries evaporating. He loved ice cream. It was almost as good as eating pastries. Now THOSE he had a love affair with that wasn’t healthy in the slightest. Before he could either argue or agree, Greg was up on his feet, motioning for him to come along. He really didn’t have to twist his arm or anything.
“Alright, there’s always room for ice cream,” he replied, getting to his feet. “You know, when I was growing up, my mother had to buy a bucket a week. Between me and my sister, it was almost impossible to keep it in the house.”
They had a standing ice cream date every night after their parents went to bed. When they were small, they weren’t terribly sneaky, but their father always ignored it and their mother only yelled about it when they made too much noise. When they were older, they were better at it, but he wasn’t dumb enough to think that they pulled the wool over their father’s eyes, especially since he’d had to sneak in from the barns half the year. Daddy was sharp to everything they ever thought or said. If he didn’t know his father as well as he did, he was sure that he would have thought the man was psychic.
“You know what I could go for? Tiger.”
A lot of people thought orange and liquorice wasn’t a good flavor mix, but that was what Peter liked about it. It was different, out there, not your run of the mill flavor. Or maybe he’d mix it up a bit and be far from the mill.
“Or cherry something. I like cherry everything. Maybe they have cherry cheesecake...”
Peter was already walking towards the cart with purpose, barely taking a moment to grab Greg’s hand to drag him along. Forget awkwardness – there was ice cream waiting and he wasn’t going to let anything keep him from valuable eating time.
“What’re you going to get, Greg?”
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Post by GREGORY LESTRADE on Feb 7, 2013 16:59:21 GMT -5
He loved the sight of Peter's eyes visibly widening at the sight of the ice cream cart. He might have a sweet tooth, but Peter often seemed to be fixated on sugar. It was adorable, if not unhealthy.
“Alright, there’s always room for ice cream,” Peter stood, his voice trying for calm but with a audible excitement, “You know, when I was growing up, my mother had to buy a bucket a week. Between me and my sister, it was almost impossible to keep it in the house.” Peter had told him that before, and Greg had laughed. He could only imagine what little, sugar-high Peter had been like.
“You know what I could go for?" Peter mused as they walked briskly towards the stand, "Tiger. Or cherry something. I like cherry everything. Maybe they have cherry cheesecake…”
Greg wanted to ask what tiger was, because wow, what? The sounded disgusting. He tried to imagine tiger flavored ice cream and all his mind produced was the catch phrase, 'tastes like chicken.' He wondered if tiger really would taste like chicken. But these trivial thoughts were quickly pushed away once Peter grabbed his hand and pulled him more quickly along. He tried not to show his surprise, but a wide smile was on his face when Peter asked him with the eagerness of a little boy who used to steal ice cream from the fridge nightly, "What’re you going to get, Greg?”
"Vanilla or strawberry," he chuckled, knowing Peter would find that undoubtedly boring. But Greg liked Vanilla, and strawberry was really good when there were actual strawberries in it. "Unless I ought to try something new, yeah?"[/b] he added thoughtfully, a potential question in his tone. Peter's sudden energy burst was sweet and contagious. Usually these ice cream carts had ten or so flavors, making the homemade sweet highly portable. But they always had interesting and creative flavors, and if he was making Peter try new things, then he really should reciprocate!
They reached the booth, and Greg squinted to read the little sign that was taped to a board. (His eyesight was worsening, no doubt, but be damned if he start carrying his glasses around on a lanyard like an old man.) "What looks good?"[/b] He asked.
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Post by DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS on Feb 11, 2013 2:51:43 GMT -5
"Vanilla or strawberry.”
That was fairly...boring. But not everyone liked the odd flavors. It didn’t matter, really, as long as he wasn’t gorging on ice cream alone. That would have been embarrassing. The fact he didn’t care that he was going to be shoving ice cream into his mouth in front of a date was just a testament to the fact that he didn’t care as long as he got ice cream.
"Unless I ought to try something new, yeah?"
“It’s really up to you,” Peter offered.
If Greg ended up picking something that he didn’t like, Peter would probably finish it for him, but that meant he wasn’t going to enjoy his ice cream and Peter would probably get an epic brain freeze. So it was in everyone’s best interest if Greg did enjoy his ice cream.
"What looks good?"
“Everything. Well, except cotton candy and bubble gum. Whoever thought those were a good ice cream mix was insane.”
It was true. Even as a kid, he had never liked them. They were far, far too sweet.
“If you want to try something new, pick something that you’d never pick otherwise,” Peter offered, reading over the small list of choices. They have a few different ones to choose from, nothing too out of the ordinary. He already knew what he was going for when he grinned at the man working the cart. “Three scoops of Tiger, please.”
He knew three was a bit excessive, but he really didn’t care. If he was getting ice cream, he was doing it right.
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Post by GREGORY LESTRADE on Feb 12, 2013 19:55:37 GMT -5
“Everything," Peter said excitedly, and Greg would've liked to kiss him just then, he was so charmingly innocent. For a man of Peter's age and - well, experience - it seemed to Greg like that was was far easier than it was meant to be. "Well, except cotton candy and bubble gum. Whoever thought those were a good ice cream mix was insane. If you want to try something new, pick something that you’d never pick otherwise."
"Okay,"[/b] Greg agreed gladly, and observed the flavors up for that day as they reached the cart. Peter, of course, had already decided.
“Three scoops of Tiger, please.” That was... a lot of ice cream, but Peter was far worse than Greg when it came to sweets. He smiled to himself as Peter was served, reading the sign and its annoyingly small lettering.
Hmm... "Raspberry cheesecake sounds kind of good," he mused aloud, before shrugging and saying to the boy behind the desk, "Can I get a scoop of that?"[/b] A second later he was gifted with the flavor, nicely propped on a kids' cone. Oh, well, he supposed waffle cones were only for... adult sizes, he thought bemusedly to himself, looking at Peter and his cone.
Pay was always confusing with the two of them; both the gentleman. (Though these days, even girls wanted to pay for everything, Greg thought annoyed, It made everything so complicated.) Greg was considerably older and less underpaid, but Peter and he had argued too many times about this. So, Greg just opened his wallet and said with a tone that meant he would absolutely swing either way, "Can I pay for yours?"[/b] It wasn't like it was a huge sum of money. Greg was determined not to let this make a bump, today.
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Post by DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS on Feb 25, 2013 17:45:12 GMT -5
Peter grinned a bit, licking his cone. He loved ice cream. The tang of orange and licorice bit at his tongue and he couldn’t think of anything better right then. When Greg was handed his tiny scoop of ice cream, he did feel like a bit of a pig, but Gregory had heard him order first, so it was all on him if he wasn’t going to indulge, too.
"Can I pay for yours?"
Peter glanced at his cone, thinking his cost a lot more than Greg’s and he should be asking if he could do the paying. It was a thing between them all the time. Peter wasn’t overly proud, but he just didn’t like having it pointed out that Greg had more money than him. So he was obstinate over it from time to time. He tried, he honestly did. He held down two jobs, he took in more tips than most bartenders in the city, and once he’d even let someone pay him for sex, even though it had felt really wrong, but he’d needed the rent. The point was that he just didn’t keep up with everything and having Greg pay was just something he didn’t feel was right, either.
But it wasn’t some fifty dollar dinner or a weekend away. It was five bucks worth of ice cream. He could let that go.
“Sure,” he agreed, still licking his cone. “But you do know if we eat dinner after this, I’m paying.”
There, all was fair. Right then, he was willing to let things go.
“Here, have a taste of this,” Peter offered, holding his cone out, hoping it would be a good enough distraction.
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Post by GREGORY LESTRADE on Feb 26, 2013 23:29:24 GMT -5
He was glad that, after a moment of hesitation, Peter agreed, “Sure, but you do know if we eat dinner after this, I’m paying.” Well, that wasn't very fair - dinner was surely more expensive. But whatever, he'd just have to let it drop if he didn't want to make this into a dumb thing.
"Sure," Greg nodded, then paid the lady at the little booth with five. Dollar change. "Thanks," he nodded, then walked away with Peter. He tried his ice cream - new flavor. "Oh, this tastes good," Greg said, pleasantly surprised.
“Here, have a taste of this,” Peter held his far taller cone out to him.
Greg took a good lick off the side, chuckling all the while. This was funny, for some reason. "Wow, that's sweet," he hummed, "But good. I was a bit afraid it was actual tiger." Greg wasn't a huge fan of licorice, but it tasted better than he thought it looked.
He held his own cone out to Peter, "Here, want a try of mine?"
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Post by DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS on Mar 2, 2013 23:45:14 GMT -5
"Oh, this tastes good.”
Well, Peter did tell him that ice cream was amazing. He was very happy with his own choice, so he was happy Greg had his own.
"Wow, that's sweet...But good. I was a bit afraid it was actual tiger."
Peter actually laughed at that. “Believe what you will about the indulgence of Americans, but actual animal flavored ice cream is beyond us. Well, maybe not chicken or beef, but it would probably be terrible tasting.”
Peter took a careful lick off Greg’s cone, thinking that it was alright, but it certainly wasn’t his favorite. Still, it was good. Greg should have gotten more of it. One scoop was hardly anything to call home about. Three was probably a low point, but he really didn’t care, and he could always share with Greg, if he was inclined. Usually when he said something was sweet, it was too sweet for him.
“You know, I should have brought Baze. Raspberry Cheesecake is his favorite,” Peter pointed out, wondering why he was talking about his dog. It was another filler topic. “Not that he should eat ice cream, but you’ve seen him – he’s rail thin.”
Peter took a lick of his ice cream, trying to think of something much more interesting to talk about.
“So, any thoughts on dinner? I was thinking anything not-Chinese.”
He’d had it a couple times in the last few days. Gerry was on his own, so he was ordering every meal, but all he liked was Chinese food, so it wasn’t something on the top of his list.
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Post by GREGORY LESTRADE on Mar 3, 2013 22:25:22 GMT -5
“Believe what you will about the indulgence of Americans, but actual animal flavored ice cream is beyond us. Well, maybe not chicken or beef, but it would probably be terrible tasting," Peter joked, and Gregory laughed a lot at that one.
"God, that does sound disgusting, but you know? I wouldn't put it past them," he shook his head in comic disappointment.
Peter probably knew his flavor of ice cream already, as he didn't seem thrilled about it - damn, he should've gotten something Peter would've wanted to share - but said, “You know, I should have brought Baze. Raspberry Cheesecake is his favorite. Not that he should eat ice cream, but you’ve seen him – he’s rail thin.”
"I have a the strong suspicion that your dog has tried far more flavors of ice cream than I have," Greg mused, raising an eyebrow. Peter did spoil Baze so much, the dog was damn lucky.
“So, any thoughts on dinner? I was thinking anything not-Chinese.”
Gregory chuckled. He understood the tedium of the same take out over, and over, and over... he could sympathize. "We can certainly have not-Chinese," he assured Peter, "Um... how about we go get something at Reilly's? It's kinda close... Anywhere's good. Or I can make something at home. Whatever you want," he paused, then joked, "Or we could get Japanese. Because that tastes so different from Chinese." Gregory was fully aware that actual Asian foods tasted different between countries, but as far as American take-out went, it was an awful lot of rice and chicken stuffed with salt.
((OOC: I made Reilly's up. Just assume it's some typical, well-priced little diner that has Pasta and pizza and stuff.))
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Post by DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS on Mar 11, 2013 16:04:07 GMT -5
"God, that does sound disgusting, but you know? I wouldn't put it past them.”
He had to agree. If it was gross, Americans would be the first to create it and get morbidly obese off of it.
"I have a the strong suspicion that your dog has tried far more flavors of ice cream than I have.”
Peter laughed a bit. Oh, that was true. Baze ate a lot of things he probably shouldn’t.
“You know, if they come up with those flavors, they could definitely market them for dogs,” Peter pointed out. “I’d buy them out of curiosity and then he’d end up eating it all anyway.”
Yet another idea he should store away in his back pocket for a rainy day. He had a lot of those, but no ambition to actually market anything. He was sure that if he did ever get the get up and go to do so, he’d make money, but he did fine without money...mostly. He could tell that Greg wasn’t happy that he was insisting on paying for dinner.
"We can certainly have not-Chinese. Um... how about we go get something at Reilly's? It's kinda close... Anywhere's good. Or I can make something at home. Whatever you want."
Well, that was a relief. He usually went with the flow, but he had his limits.
"Or we could get Japanese. Because that tastes so different from Chinese."
Peter chuckled, eating his ice cream. “Oh, you’re funny. You should be on Letterman. How about something from not-Asia?”
Peter would eat almost anything. He may not like everything that he ate, but he was always happy to have something in his stomach. The only thing he adamantly turned his nose up at was canned veggies. Having grown up on a ranch, he was raised to believe the only real veggies were from the ground, not brined in salt and shoved into a can until they were mush. The thought almost turned him off his ice cream.
Almost.
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Post by GREGORY LESTRADE on Apr 19, 2013 15:40:51 GMT -5
“Oh, you’re funny," Peter replied, "You should be on Letterman."
"I'd be great at talk shows,"[/color] Gregory agreed with a smirk, both he and Peter fully aware at his inability to speak in public with the fluency he should be able to.
"How about something from not-Asia?” Peter asked.
"Sure,"[/color] Greg said. "How about... Pizza? Pizza sounds like a nice simple thing right now, hmm?" He'd be happy to oblige to anything Peter wanted to have really, but comfort food sounded appealing right now.
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Post by DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS on Apr 23, 2013 23:59:48 GMT -5
Peter grinned over at Greg. He would be terrible on a talk show. He was terrible at talking in front of audiences. Knowing that there were people out there across the country watching would make things even worse. Peter wasn’t sure how he’d do, so he wouldn’t make any comments about it. For all he knew, he would be the kind who would blush and laugh through an interview. He knew he was the kind who got nervous when he was cornered, but an interview would be different...maybe. On second thought, neither he nor Greg needed to go on a TV show to prove that they were funny. Well, Greg was funny. Peter was...weird.
Thank god Greg was pushing along, keeping his head on important things, like dinner. Peter’s life kind of revolved around food. He ate when he could, and when he couldn’t, he filled up on coffee. So dinner was definitely a subject he could sink his teeth into...
And too bad he thought of these things in his head, because that was funny.
"Sure, how about... Pizza? Pizza sounds like a nice simple thing right now, hmm?"
“You know me – there’s always room for pizza,” he agreed easily enough.
It was true. He loved the stuff. He’d had it rarely when he was growing up, seeing as how his father hated take out and preferred to have something from the oven. But Don was a nut for it, and he had taught Peter everything he knew about it. His first meal in New York City had actually been pizza, ironically enough.
“Alright, I think I've had enough of sitting out and eating in front of strangers. Where do you want to order from?”
You could find good Pizza all over New York, and it really didn’t matter to Peter which one they ordered from. The only thing that would matter would be the location. If they chose a place in Manhattan, they’d end up at Greg’s. If they chose a place in Brooklyn, they’d end up in his messy apartment. So he was actually being practical by thinking about this, seeing as how they’d probably spend the night wherever they decided to eat.
Peter took another lick of his ice cream, studying Greg over the treat, waiting to hear what he thought. Sometimes their conversations amused him more than others, and this one wasn’t the funniest, but it was quaint in a way that made him feel at ease in the moment. This wasn't something he had to be awkward and weird about. This was just picking out where to eat dinner.
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Post by GREGORY LESTRADE on Jun 17, 2013 3:02:40 GMT -5
Peter agreed easily, “You know me – there’s always room for pizza."
"Righto, pizza it is then," Greg nodded over-seriously, because pizza was very good.
“Alright, I think I've had enough of sitting out and eating in front of strangers," Peter said, and Greg laughed. "Where do you want to order from?”
"The usual's always safe," Greg said. "That one near your's with the lady with the crazy hair, and the guy with the skeevy mustache."[/color] Greg tended to make social commentary on people when he was bored, and standing in there, once, had been one of those times.
They had two usual pizza spots. One near his house and one near Peter's. They seemed to order out a lot. As in nearly whenever they ate together. The park was closer to Peter's house though, so they would go there today. "I'm ready to go too,"[/color] Greg said. They finished up their ice cream and headed to Greg's car. He was pretty sure Peter had walked, and they could probably walk to the pizza place too, but Greg had to do something with it.
"Buckle up," Greg said with a smirk he was sure Peter would understand. Peter had undeniably learned how bad of a driver Greg was the first time they'd gotten into a car together. He wasn't an unsafe driver, but 'good' wasn't really the kind of work one would use to describe it. And he seemed to think stop signs were optional on occasion. He really should pay more attention, being a cop and all, he thought.
As they began to drive, he said lightly, "Sorry that wasn't really your thing. Ice cream and pizza's more our style, I suppose," he said thoughtfully. He liked that they were casual. Not that he didn't wish Peter had liked the music better, but all in all it really wasn't the kind of thing either of them particularly were into, so they were better off just eating junk food together all evening anyways.
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Post by DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS on Jul 4, 2013 0:46:58 GMT -5
One thing Peter could always depend on would be Greg’s agreement that they eat. Well, that he eat at the very least. Peter tried not to over analyse that, figuring that he was lucky to get what he had. And there was pizza on the horizon. From how serious Greg sounded in agreement, Peter was reminded that the other man liked it just as much as he did. It was a good thing they were in New York City, seeing as how they only made the best there.
"The usual's always safe. That one near your's with the lady with the crazy hair, and the guy with the skeevy mustache."
Peter had to hold in a laugh. For a police officer, Gregory certainly managed to be pretty off color sometimes. He got a kick out of it, knowing exactly who the other man was talking about. He could picture the husband and wife who ran the place – her with a mess of curls that frizzed everywhere and his handlebar moustache that made the guy look like he was part of some Spanish gang. They were nice people, but that really was the best way to remember them. As it was, Peter was alright with going there. He was alright with going anywhere. He hadn’t been lying when he said that he was kind of done with all these people watching him. Of course, they probably weren’t paying him any mind, but it was still out of his comfort zone. So he more than willingly finished his ice cream and followed Greg to the car he’d driven over. Peter didn’t know how he did it – driving in the city was a pain, but it sure beat the long walk home.
"Buckle up."
Well, almost. Where Peter hadn’t driven a car in years, he was sure he’d handle it better than Greg did. It wasn’t that he was bad at driving, but...stop signs just weren’t optional in Peter’s mind. One of these days, the Inspector was going to get himself killed. Peter took care to buckle his seat belt, prepared to point out every stop sign on the way back to his place.
"Sorry that wasn't really your thing. Ice cream and pizza's more our style, I suppose.”
Peter chuckled a bit. “It’s fine, really. It’s good to try new things,” he offered, a bit of a shrug to his good shoulder. “But ice cream and pizza is definitely something I can get on board with.”
And it did work for them. Sitting on the couch, enjoying a movie, eating junk, throwing a ball towards his bedroom every so often because Baze was eager to get some attention while they were home...It was easy. It was comfortable. It was probably boring as hell to anyone who wasn’t them, but it worked. Peter didn’t have to sit and wonder what he was doing or who was judging him. God, Greg deserved someone better.
“Stop sign,” Peter said blandly, pointing out one up ahead, figuring it was better to keep an eye on traffic than to sit and analyze their relationship in his head.
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