The Roof

[dutchy]

Dutchy smirked, maybe even blushed a little at that "Just a bonus", then blinked in surprise, suddenly feeling Don't Ask's fingers brush his hair and ear in a much too intimate touch. Hearing the explanation relaxed him considerably, but made him wonder why, why he jumped to the conclusion it was an intimate touch. All alone on the roof.

Dutchy's ears turned slightly red and he gave a flicker of a nervous smile and shook his head, "Nah, not really. Just... might be a nice place to visit."

[Don't Ask]

"So where would you go? There's got to be somewhere you'd like to wake up in. The Roman Empire, days of Caesar? A samurai in feudal Japan? Hunting buffalo with the natives? Exploring darkest Africa with Doctor Livingstone?"

He paused, scraping his feet back and forth on the ground in front of them while he took another drag and flicked his ash to the side.

"Or maybe you'd wanna go forward in time? When we have the power to travel to the moon, sailing off in devices that create giant explosions so powerful that they break the pull of Earth's gravity and send their projectile through outer space?" He considered for a moment, then shrugged. "Maybe by that point things time travel will have been invented, too, and a discussion like this would be more than fantasy..."



((Yep. The tranny just quoted Jules Verne. Someone slap me.))

[dutchy]

Dutchy took a long drag from his cigarette as Don't Ask spoke. And he thought Race and Specs had some imagination. He couldn't see himself in Rome. All those layers of robes --what were they again? Topas? Togas!-- looked too hot. And difficult to keep in place. They had to carry half of it on an arm all the time! Well, that's how they were in pictures anyway. A samurai... Nifty looking swords, a bit strange looking compared to swords like the Musketeers or even pirates, and of course, Medieval knights. Pirates were closer to the style. And Africa! Hot, sweaty jungles with mass amounts of rainforest and all sorts of strange (and dangerous) wildlife! Dutchy wasn't sure who Doctor Livingstone was, but exploring with or without him did sound appealing.

Don't Ask went on about the future. A smile curled at Dutchy's lips. Now that he did know about. He stood, scrapping his stub on the side of the crate and wandered to the edge of the roof, looking down. A short feeling of vertigo came over him, but it was gone in a few moments. Scary, but a little exciting looking over the edge of the Lodging house straight down to the side walk below. He smirked seeing Snoddy lounging on the steps below inspecting something he'd probably picked up in the park knowing him. Dutchy couldn't see it from here but raised his hand out over the edge and carefully dropped his butt to fall below.

"That's Jules Verne," Dutchy said brightly. "I read that one."

It landed in on the sidewalk, behind Snoddy's line of sight, missing him entirely. Dutchy frowned slightly, then looked to Don't Ask. "Maybe. Africa sounds good, too. Who's Doctor Livingstone?"

[Don't Ask]

Don't Ask smiled and nodded, genuinely pleased that Dutchy recognized the reference to Verne. "His books are great. My favorite is, um, Journey to the Center of the Earth, I think it's called. When the Professor and his nephew and their guide are on the raft in the ocean by the giant mushrooms, and they watch the fight between the Ichthyosaur and the Plesiosaur..." He took a long drag from his cigarette here, visibly calming as he inhaled. "Oh, it just gave me chills!"

Snuffing out the remains of his smoke on the sole of his shoe, Don't Ask rose and joined Dutchy near the edge of the roof, tossing the butt over his shoulder and down the side of the building.

"Doctor Livingstone," he started, leaning back against the wall surrounding the edge of the roof, frowning as he tried to remember the details of the man, "was an explorer. Well, first he was a doctor. Um, obviously. But then he went exploring, and he was made a national hero of England--oh, yeah, he was English. He did most of his exploring in Africa, around the River Nile and Egypt and stuff, and he claimed a bunch of stuff in the name of England. Guess he brought a lot of flags on his journeys."

He pulled his hat from his back pocket and began fidgeting with it, for no other purpose than to occupy his hands which had begun to tremble with the remainder of his nerves. "Think it could've been fun to be an African explorer. Seeing things no other person who wasn't an African had ever seen before? Doing things no one else had ever done?" Wringing his hat in his hands, he looked up at Dutchy and grinned. "Just sounds like it could be a lot of fun."



(Spot the Eddie Izzard reference! A billionty-five points to you if you can!)

[dutchy]

"Flags, yeah..." Dutchy was only half listening to the last part, watching Don't Ask's stub tumble down to the street and bounce off some poor fellow's balding head who had removed his hat to greet some lady. The man whirled around, furious as the lady giggled and darted across the street, looking up at the roof. At them! The man followed where the woman was pointing at them and glared squarely at Dutchy. Dutchy couldn't help but start laughing, loudly, but then grabbed Don't Ask's shirt, pulling him down below the wall, in fits of laughter.

"You guy-- you got some old man-- right on his head! You weren't even aimin'!"

[Don't Ask]

Bewildered at Dutchy's sudden fit of hysterics, Don't Ask didn't resist as Dutchy grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down out of sight. "What the hell--"

"You guy-- you got some old man-- right on his head! You weren't even aimin'!"

"I... what?" Don't Ask asked, confused. Stealthily, he popped up over the edge of the wall, peeking down at the ground below. An older man with a gleaming bald head was speaking with a tall boy sitting on the steps of the lodging house, while gesticulating wildly into the air, pointing right at where he and Dutchy were currently hiding. As he watched, the old man looked up again, met Don't Ask's eyes, and glowered daggers.

"Oh, shit!" Don't Ask squeaked, dropping out of sight in a hurry. He threw an arm around Dutchy's shoulders, clamping a hand over his mouth as he was still laughing. "Shh!" he hissed, drawing close against him. "That guy looks so pissed off, I think he just might throttle your friend down there for the hell of it!"

Straining his ears, he thought he could hear the man's angry ranting carried on the air. Of all the moments possible for Don't Ask to drop his cigarette butt, for the man to remove his hat; for all the exact positions the two of them could have stood in... Don't Ask couldn't help but giggle now, too.

"That was a pretty good shot, though, wasn't it?" he snickered, leaning his forehead against Dutchy's. "Maybe I oughta quit smokin'..."

[dutchy]

Leaning against Don't Ask, still giggling, Dutchy attempted to stop himself, but couldn't. A few more giggles, a hard attempt to keep a straight face and keep quiet with Don't Ask's hand clamped over his mouth, Dutchy placed a hand on Don't Ask's wrist lightly. His own giggles died down, but Don't Ask was still going, shaking with laughter against him. Dutchy only now realized how very close they were sitting. Close. Rather tangled up in each other. And Dutchy didn't mind. Not one bit. But he should have, shouldn't he? It wasn't like when Specs or Blink horsed around with him. Not hardly. It was just a bit closer, but... this felt different. He couldn't explain it.

He pulled Don't Ask's hand away from his mouth slowly and sat up a little, looking at his friend a little closer. Closer than he had before.

[Don't Ask]

Don't Ask's giggling slaked off under Dutchy's careful gaze, and he averted his eyes uncomfortably, hunching his shoulders, his hand drifting to the front of his shirt, making sure the buttons were fastened above the top of his binder.

"Bedankt," he murmured, biting his lip as he looked up to meet Dutchy's eyes briefly. "Voor het brengen van me omhoog hier, beteken ik. I... Ik zich beter nu. Dus, bedankt."

Swallowing nervously, he was afraid to pull away, afraid to draw closer, afraid to move in the slightest, and he jumped a mile as a solid pressure appeared from nowhere against him, but relaxed considerably when he realized the warm, furry presence was Horseshoe coming to his rescue. Looking up from his shredding, the dog had seen his master and his master's friend cowering under the ledge and determined that by coming down to his level they were initiating some sure-to-be spectacular wrestling fun. He'd quickly closed the distance between them and pushed his way into Don't Ask's lap, insinuating himself between the boys.

"Oof! Horseshoe! Get offa me, you mutt!" Don't Ask cried, laughing, secretly grateful for the distraction the dog created. Seizing the dog's ears in his hands, he shook Horseshoe's head back and forth, snuggling his face into the dog's fluffy neck and growling playfully, pushing him back against Dutchy.


(Today's Dutch lesson: "Thank you. For bringing me up here, I mean. I... I feel better now. So, thanks.")

[dutchy]

"Yeah," Dutchy found himself a bit breathless, unsure of what else to say. He didn't know why and that bothered him most. He had never even looked at Don't Ask this close before, psychically. That 5 o'clock shadow was nothing but shadow, or dirt, or--

Horseshoe suddenly plowed between the two like they were a couple of human bowling pins and his big head was the ball. Dutchy fall back, when Don't Ask pushed the dog over to him playfully, but lost his balance, falling over on his back.

[Don't Ask]

When Dutchy fell backward, he triggered a chain reaction that had Horseshoe, being pushed by Don't Ask, rolling on top of him, and Don't Ask, balancing against the dog's resistance that suddenly disappeared, falling over Horseshoe.

"Oof! Ow! Horseshoe, quit it!" Don't Ask yelped as the dog, thoroughly displeased with the new and squishy direction this game had taken, started flailing, trying to extricate himself from between the boys and repeatedly catching Don't Ask in the belly with his hind paws. To bring an end of the attack of the kickboxing mutt, Don't Ask hauled on Horseshoe's haunches, shoving him out from between him and Dutchy, and letting himself fall squarely against Dutchy instead.

"Mijn goed," he huffed, panting and irritated, glaring at the dog before turning to his friend. "Are you okay? Sorry, that wasn't exactly what I'd planned on happening there. Did he--oh!" Only just realizing their compromising position, Don't Ask quickly levered himself off the other boy, rolling to the side and springing to his feet.

"Kut! Kut, I'm sorry!" he blurted, offering his hand out to help Dutchy to his feet. "Are you okay?"



(Today's lesson in Dutch... can't really be given. If you've been playing along, "mijn goed" should be recognizable as "my god," but "kut" isn't something I'm allowed to translate here. XD Those crazy Dutchmen and their crazy swearing...)

[Snoddy King]

Snoddy had played dumb with the angry man, pretending to be unable to comprehend where on earth the cigarette butt that struck him may have come from. After a few minutes of squawking, the man determined that talking to Snoddy was like talking to a post and he'd stalked off. Snoddy opted to quickly take his leave, lest the man decide he had more to say after all and returned.

Inside, he made his way to the stairs and headed up for the roof. He'd seen Dutchy up there with someone, which meant he'd likely missed the last of Jack's speechifying. He'd need to be filled in.

Pushing open the door to the roof, Snoddy began to move to the corner his friend was occupying, but came up short, taken aback by the scene. Dutchy was usually the first one to try to beg off when the horsing around turned physical, and here he was, looking for all the world like he was engaged in a wrestling match with the other boy. And there was a dog!

"Uh, pardon me," he interrupted with a grin, amused. He snapped his fingers, unable to stop himself from beckoning the dog over to scratch its ears. "Sorry to interrupt, Dutch, but I wanted to let you know, Jack's setting up a meeting later on. All the boroughs are meeting at Irving Hall to talk about what to do next." He looked to the other boy, the one Dutchy had been tangled with, trying to place him. He seemed familiar, but Snoddy couldn't recall from where.

"Was that your snipeshot with the cig butt?" he asked, and smirked. "Good shot. Nailed him dead center. Boy, he was miffed, too."

[dutchy]

"Yeah," Dutchy replied to Don't Ask, bursting into a fit of laughter after a silent moment, unable to think of any other way to react. He let his head fall back and simply laid there for a moment, looking at the clouds moving slowly in the sky. Damn. All white, no rain for a while. It was bad for business but the air was getting down right stale around the city.

Hearing Snoddy's voice, Dutchy got up, scrambling his long legs to stand and brush himself off. He felt his cheeks go red and wondered why in the hell he was blushing. It was nothing. Just horsing around. That's what boys did. And with a dog. They were playing with the dog, that's all. Why was Dutchy thinking of excuses?

Dutchy forced a nervous laugh, "Yeah, sorry about that. He didn't take it out on you, did he?" Dutchy asked, then grinding his toe into the floor a bit, jutted his thumb over to Don't Ask. "It was Don't Ask's shot really. I missed you by a mile."