I am sleep-deprived and addled enough that I'm starting to like Rammstein. Pixxi, I don't know what sinister influence you are exerting on me across all these miles, but it's got to stop.
So. Two essays due Monday. One due Tuesday. Whole hall will be up till four a.m. partying and drinking and making noise, so sleep ain't an option right now.
Know what I should do now? I should write fluffy fanfic!
'Bout time I got working on those 20fk prompts anyway (Links in Rich Text aren't working for some reason).
Stop me, please.
I'm not sure whether this one will go up on ff.net. I'm thinking of abandoning ff.net, as I have heard rumors that they are no longer recognizing semicolons in uploaded stories and I will not tolerate this emasculation of English punctuation. But, aside from here, I don't really have anywhere else to post them, at least not anywhere where more than ten people might read it.
Anyone know of any alternate fanfiction databases out there that are fairly heavily trafficked?
On to the fic. Bear in mind that I skimped on description in this one; it's primarily dialogue-based.
Warnings: Complete fluff. Not a serious syllable in the bunch.
Disclaimer: CSI: Miami and all characters and situations thereof are the property of CBS, Bruckheimer Productions, etc. I’m just borrowing them for a moment.
*_*_*_*
The sun had been shining all day; the temperature had hovered at 95 Fahrenheit; it was humid but not sticky.
It was, in other words, a perfect day for ice cream. Marisol had noted this. And, when they reached the nearest ice-cream shop, Horatio had been happy to indulge her.
But a slight complication had emerged when she had insisted that he get something for himself. Polite refusals had only made her more persistent.
So he had bought a scoop of vanilla ice cream. This only seemed to irritate her.
“You can’t get vanilla,” she said, taking a bite out of her mint-chocolate-chip with chocolate syrup and rainbow sprinkles. “Nobody likes vanilla.”
“I like vanilla,” Horatio replied.
“No, you don’t. Nobody really likes vanilla. They may say they do, but they don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s boring, that’s why.” She took a seat on a nearby park bench. “It has no flavor. It’s bland. It’s…it’s not real ice cream. It’s what you add stuff to to get ice cream.”
He sat down next to her. “Well, I could argue that vanilla has no flavor so that nothing gets in the way of the cold, creamy essence of the ice cream.” He pointed with a spoonful of the offending vanilla.
“You could argue that, but you’d be wrong,” She said, sounding satisfied. “What’s the point of ice cream if it doesn’t have a flavor? Or if it’s not even sweet? Might as well not even be dessert if it isn’t sweet.”
“Vanilla’s plenty sweet.”
“Not as sweet as it could be.”
“Does it have to be?”
She shrugged. “I think it should be, anyway. I dunno, maybe it’s a Cuban thing.” Another bite. “We’ve got two basic attitudes about food. If it’s an entrée, add garlic; if it’s dessert, add sugar. Have you ever had flan?”
“I can’t say that I have.”
“I figured.” She laughed. “You’ve lived in Miami all this time and you’ve never had flan?”
“I’ve only been here ten years. Not that long, really.”
“That’s still a long time to have never had flan. You can get it at any half-decent restaurant. It’s better homemade, though.” A smile, as she turned to face him. “I’ll make it for you, next time you come over for dinner. I don’t make it nearly as well as my mom does, but…”
“I may have to take you up on that,” Horatio replied. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
“It’s never too much trouble,” she said. “Whenever you get sick of eating dinner by yourself, all you have to do is stop by.”
“You sure you don’t mind?”
“Positive.”
He grinned shyly and looked away. “That’s…that’s very sweet of you.”
“Not too sweet, though?” She asked, teasingly indicating another spoonful of ice cream. He only shook his head, unsure of how to respond.
Completely on impulse, she leaned close to him and kissed him on the cheek. “Come on,” she said as she got up. “Did you want to keep walking?”
It took a moment for him to stand up and follow her.
*_*_*_*
Comments, concrit, and grammatical nitpicking is loved.
. Eventually.
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stunt_muppet at 03:32am on 28/04/2007 under 20 first kisses challenge, csi:miami, fanfics, fic posts, fic posts: het, horatio/marisol
sleepy
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Plus, I'm with H. Vanilla's proper ice cream.
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I'm inclined to agree, even though my own preference runs to chocolate...
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Originals:
1. “Because it’s boring, that’s why,” she took a seat on a nearby park bench.
2. “You could argue that, but you’d be wrong.” She said, sounding satisfied.
3. “It’s never too much trouble.” She said.
Corrected versions:
1. “Because it’s boring, that’s why.” She took a seat on a nearby park bench.
2. “You could argue that, but you’d be wrong,” she said, sounding satisfied.
3. “It’s never too much trouble,” she said.
On another note...what the HELL?! No semi-colons?! Ff.net just keeps getting stupider and stupider.
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And yeah, I've got NO idea what that's about. I guess since they figure half the people there don't know how to use it, they'll just take it out so it can't confuse people? I don't know...
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Eek. Many papers. Scary. You'll get them done, and then all Tuesday afternoon can be naptime to make up for the sleep you missed.
Lurf you!
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I actually skipped two classes today so that I could sleep after my all-nighter for my Humanities essay. Of course, my Bio lab report still needs doing, so that's probably another all-nighter right there.
Know what? Wednesday is pedicure day. And Friday, I am going shopping. WITH SOMEONE ELSE this time, not the depressing lonely shopping I had to do last time.
I miss you desperately, do you know that? Just the other day I was thinking "You know, I should call Pixxi. I want to go to Georgetown again. We should do that." And then I remembered that I couldn't. And I was sad.
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And good job skipping classes. I skip econ and bio and stats aaaaaallll the time. Yet soemhow I'm still doing brilliantly in all of them. Learning is essential - Class is optional.
Oooo... pedicure day sounds lovely. Good decision. And shopping moreso. Who're you going with?
I miss you so much, darlin. Like crazy. And I'm still here for almost a whole month, made more awful by the fact that Cain finished his *exams* today, and is going home for the summer in the morning. Lucky bastard. We definitely need to actually make it to G-town this next time. We'll make a day of it - go to lunch, poke around, soak up the atmosphere, catch dinner (or ice cream. After all, it'll be summer in Georgetown...) and maybe a movie or something. (God, I need to get out of Amherst! Aaarrghh!!)
I wanna come home and see you! I miss you! *grumble* If I make it home in time, we need to do another Pirate party. Cause that was awesome. It's coming out on the 25th of May.
Eek. It's almost two in the morning. I should go to bed. And please do call me. I miss you terribly.
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Considering that finals are bearing swiftly down on my head, and mom's been gently reminding me to start packing and figure out when I'm going home, the shopping may have to wait. The pedicure *will* happen before school ends, though. Cause I said so.
Yes! I missed the last Pirate Party, so I pretty much have to do this one. I'll see how my work schedule looks; I'm not sure if I'll have started by then.
I shall call you Friday, after I'm finished with my Spanish exam.
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This is just a perfect example of them - Marisol's playful (lol @ 'It's not real ice cream'); he's happy to give her whatever she wants but would rather just sit back and enjoy her enjoyment from the sidelines. Only she doesn't let him do that, she drags him out with her, and because her enthusiasm is infectious he gets drawn in. Out of his comfort zone a little, but ultimately all the better for it.
Also, I just get a kick out of Horatio pointing with the "offending vanilla."
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One tiny question - at 95 degrees, how is it humid without being sticky?
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