Jan 20 06:10:12 106 PA
From Chronicles
By far, the most popular attraction of Harry's Gym is the pool. Fully olympic in size it ranges from three to eighteen feet deep and is kept extremely clean. The public is almost always present here, except in 'exclusive' swims. Sometimes, there are lots of children present -- especially during the day -- but morning and evening tends to have only adults here, most of which are interested in swimming for the sake of working out. There are almost always lifeguards present and the water is quite warm.
All ready for the pool, Alistair comes of the changing room; all he's wearing is a pair of swimming trunks. He stuffs the clothing he is holding into a locker, all neatly folded. Upon locking the thing, he rubs his hands and looks aoround happily.
The pool isn't busy, but for one girl swimming up and down, her body encased in a black one piece swimsuit. Her hair is tied back, a long plait that snakes behind her. Utterly free of makeup, there are few smudges showing now, and freckles show through.
Alistair comes to the edge of the pool, watching as th girl is making her way to this side. Presumably she'll be turning around once she reaches the edge so they'll see each other, and ... Alistair of course will have to blush given his state of undress.
She twists at the end of the pool, ducking beneath the water as she does so, the water streaming off her face as she rises. She does see him, the moment she clears her eyes. The colour washes up to tint her cheeks pink as she swims towards him, resting a hand on the side of the pool, looking up at him.
Alistair's eyes widen a little, "H...hi" he smiles, and kneels down so he isn't towering over her. "Wow, I didn't recognize you right away without the smudges" he teases lightly. "Do you ... come here often?" he just keeps talking, a bit nervous. Oh, he's in a spot.
She sets her feet on the bottom of the pool, folding her arms on the edge, her smile bright and sunny, her eyes lit with warmth. "You look a piece more dry..." She teases in return, her smile widening at the question. "Real often. Gotta keep fit 'n' ..." She trails off, giving him a glance. "Uh, so..."
Speaking of being fit, Alistair certainly looks the part. Blushing a touch more he states, "You do look fit" and smiles, "I'll race you" he offers, and then he offers a hand to help her out of the pool. A jump into the water is the way to start off a race, after all!
She reaches up, taking his hand and using it to lift herself from the pool. The water streams down her body. the suit covering very little. "A race? 'N' what does the winner get?" She is teasing him, her smile warming her face, her hand still in his.
Alistair looks her over while helping her out; his disposition as sunny as hers, and his eyes wandering until he gets a grip on that. Oh it would be terribly embarassing to ... pay too much attention here. "The loser treats the winner to dinner, but don't think I'll go easy on you just because I'm traditional" he smiles bright at her and squeezes her hand.
"It'd be take out if I lose then, you don't want to taste my cookin'." She retorts in reply, her cheeks flushing as she catches the wandering eyes. "'n' I don't recall askin' you to go easy!" She moves closer, a tiny step, her hand turning slightly in his as she looks up at him. "Are you traditional?" She asks.
Alistair realizes he has been caught, and blushes even more. Now there are probably some knowing or amused looks being shot in this direction from the peanut gallery. "Oh ... I am ... in many ways. I suppose it depends on what that means to you" he smiles sheepishly.
She is oblivious to the peanut gallery, her gaze on his face. Her cheeks match his and she ducks her head at the question. "I ain't really considered the meanin' of it. You ready?" She squeezes his hands once more before turning toward the pool, her mischievous grin over her shoulder at him giving him a moments notice of her intended actions, the dive into the pool.
"Oh" Alistair starts to say something but decides against it. He smiles and nods, indicating that he's ready, and of course completely misses the beat, his eyes wide with surprise - he hits the water a whole two seconds after she does, and the race is on!
Caliopa's stroke isn't fast, clearly selftaught, her moves making more splash than movement through the water, but she is giggling as she tries to beat the man two seconds behind her. Her plait snakes behind her though, and the peanut gallery is watching with interest.
Launch tube one! Tube one fired electrically, Sir! Alistair goes off like a torpedo, apparently having had just a little more training than Cali. Once he breaches the surface again he begins a blind crowl, barely aware that he's about to pass her. This doesn't bode well for tradition of course, but he'll just have to handle that problem later. Surprisingly an efficient swimmer won't splash water all over the place, save for the fact that he's zipping ahead, things might look quite tame. Once he reaches the edge he pulls himself up slightly, and looks to one side, then the other, then behind him. Oops!
She finally draws up beside him, giggling as she lifts her hands to squeeze the water from her hair. "You swim real well..." She comments softly, holding one to the side with one hand. "So, guess I owe you dinner." She tilts her head back, giving him a thoughtful look, one dimple deepening before she turns to the side of the pool, pulling herself out. She crouches on the side beside him, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Come to the garage tonight?"
Alistair is about to protest; "I just got lucky" he smiles, and nods his head then. The garage, a place full of fond memories and smudges! He smiles wider, "Okay" he whispers back. "How about eight or so?" he murmurs, not wanting to drop in before she's prepared.
She rises from the crouch, giving him a wide smile. "That'd do." She replies, turning her back on him and walking towards the changing rooms. A natural sway to her hips might offer him a nice view, and the swimsuit clings to her wet skin.
