Amanda and Marie-Ange - Shmoop
Feb. 1st, 2024 06:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsFollowing Doug's email about Marie-Ange not sleeping/working too hard, Amanda takes her out for a traditional New York kind of date. Backdated to yesterday evening since I forgot to post.
The Rockefeller Center. A crisp winter's night. And two women enjoying a very New York date...
"Woah, ahh, eeeek!" Thud! "Ow, my bloody arse..."
Amanda looked up from her sprawled seat on the ice to the face of her girlfriend, trying to hide laughter behind her winter gloves. "This is harder than it looks."
"I only know how because you are the first person I dated who was not obsessed with ice hockey." Marie-Ange said. She set her feet, dug the toe of one blade into the ice a little, and pulled a short staff, not much longer than her forearm out of the air, copied from one of the banner poles around the rink. "If I try to help you up we both go head over teakettle, but."
"Can't have that," Amanda agreed, although there was something lurking in her expression that implied having Marie-Ange fall on top of her wouldn't be all bad. She grabbed the imaged staff in one hand and then dipped the other into the surface of the ice, triggering her connection with the city. "Ah, little help here, please?" she asked, and obligingly the slick surface went dry just long enough for Amanda to leverage herself up. "Thanks, mate." She glanced over at Marie-Ange and grinned. "Okay, let's try this again. Hold my hand?"
Marie-Ange linked her fingers with Amanda's. "Skating boots are not like your Doc Martens, except in lacing them tight. It is not meant to stomp." She pushed off a little with one foot, and then the other. "So you sort of do a step with each foot and then slide. Your feet push you along, but not as many steps as walking."
"So not a full slide like dancing around in your socks, but not an actual step either. Got it." Amanda's face was a study of concentration as she gripped Marie-Ange's hand and used the staff to stabilise herself on the other side. Slowly, she managed a whole ten feet of short little skids before she tried an actual glide. For all of ten seconds, she was sliding along the ice on her skates, completely unassisted... and then she turned slightly to give Marie-Ange a little victory whoop and promptly lost her balance again. At least she didn't smack face-first into the ice - the ice turned to soft slush upon contact and she only wound up with snow up her nose instead.
"Are you determined to learn this, or we could go be warm and have hot cocoa and snacks instead?" Marie-Ange was shaking her head, trying not to laugh and failing. Amanda might have a few bruises but nothing a hot bath and paracetamol would not fix. "Or go have curry, or Russian tea or order fish and chips and eat them in bed." She braced herself and bent down, one hand on the ice to balance. "Is this because New York is in your head and New York said if you love someone you have to go ice skating with them?"
"Oh, I think my pride's been wounded enough today," Amanda replied, and then sneezed the snow out of her nose. "Ugh. Gross. I think somewhere warm is definitely on the cards." She used the expression deliberately, a private in-joke between the two of them. "And for the life of me, I don't know if it was my idea or New York's to do this. I know it's enjoying the show. Maybe it's payback for Tompkins Square."
"New York would do better to make you go do reconciliation by feeding the pigeons or tipping the subway buskers." Marie-Ange got herself back up, carefully, and then her foot slipped out from under her and she went down onto the ice, chest first. "Amanda, tell New York I like the subway buskers. They are excellent distractions and some of them are talented dancers." She pouted - and whined a little - as she untangled herself, swiping the scrapes of ice off her coat.
"Hey, no bruising those, they're my favourite pillow!" Amanda grinned as she made a point of brushing ice off Marie-Ange's front. "I think we've suffered enough in the name of New York City cliches, let's go get dinner." She managed to leverage herself to her feet again and carefully offered Angie her hand to help her back up. The fact the ice had frozen itself around her skates to hold them still made the whole thing much easier. "Fancy or food gremlin?"
"You got snow in your nose. I want to eat a very unlikely number of potatoes with cheese." As though those two statements were related. Marie-Ange took the hand up, and got her skates stable under herself. "Or a mountain of gyro." She paused. "Or both, I would do both. Cheese fries and gyro?" She slid her way to the short wall on the edge of the rink, following just behind Amanda's city-stabilized path. "We can do fancy when it is well planned and you can talk me into letting you wear your boots under a dress. I always like boots under the dress." It was one of the most quintessential Amanda things, the punk witch that existed no matter what layers of elegance she had to don, and one of Marie-Ange's favorite things. "Right now I just want potato."
"Gremlin it is then." Amanda half-flung herself onto the bench near the edge of the rink, thankful for the stability, and bent to unlace the hired skates. "Nothing but the best for my girl - I know just the place."
The Rockefeller Center. A crisp winter's night. And two women enjoying a very New York date...
"Woah, ahh, eeeek!" Thud! "Ow, my bloody arse..."
Amanda looked up from her sprawled seat on the ice to the face of her girlfriend, trying to hide laughter behind her winter gloves. "This is harder than it looks."
"I only know how because you are the first person I dated who was not obsessed with ice hockey." Marie-Ange said. She set her feet, dug the toe of one blade into the ice a little, and pulled a short staff, not much longer than her forearm out of the air, copied from one of the banner poles around the rink. "If I try to help you up we both go head over teakettle, but."
"Can't have that," Amanda agreed, although there was something lurking in her expression that implied having Marie-Ange fall on top of her wouldn't be all bad. She grabbed the imaged staff in one hand and then dipped the other into the surface of the ice, triggering her connection with the city. "Ah, little help here, please?" she asked, and obligingly the slick surface went dry just long enough for Amanda to leverage herself up. "Thanks, mate." She glanced over at Marie-Ange and grinned. "Okay, let's try this again. Hold my hand?"
Marie-Ange linked her fingers with Amanda's. "Skating boots are not like your Doc Martens, except in lacing them tight. It is not meant to stomp." She pushed off a little with one foot, and then the other. "So you sort of do a step with each foot and then slide. Your feet push you along, but not as many steps as walking."
"So not a full slide like dancing around in your socks, but not an actual step either. Got it." Amanda's face was a study of concentration as she gripped Marie-Ange's hand and used the staff to stabilise herself on the other side. Slowly, she managed a whole ten feet of short little skids before she tried an actual glide. For all of ten seconds, she was sliding along the ice on her skates, completely unassisted... and then she turned slightly to give Marie-Ange a little victory whoop and promptly lost her balance again. At least she didn't smack face-first into the ice - the ice turned to soft slush upon contact and she only wound up with snow up her nose instead.
"Are you determined to learn this, or we could go be warm and have hot cocoa and snacks instead?" Marie-Ange was shaking her head, trying not to laugh and failing. Amanda might have a few bruises but nothing a hot bath and paracetamol would not fix. "Or go have curry, or Russian tea or order fish and chips and eat them in bed." She braced herself and bent down, one hand on the ice to balance. "Is this because New York is in your head and New York said if you love someone you have to go ice skating with them?"
"Oh, I think my pride's been wounded enough today," Amanda replied, and then sneezed the snow out of her nose. "Ugh. Gross. I think somewhere warm is definitely on the cards." She used the expression deliberately, a private in-joke between the two of them. "And for the life of me, I don't know if it was my idea or New York's to do this. I know it's enjoying the show. Maybe it's payback for Tompkins Square."
"New York would do better to make you go do reconciliation by feeding the pigeons or tipping the subway buskers." Marie-Ange got herself back up, carefully, and then her foot slipped out from under her and she went down onto the ice, chest first. "Amanda, tell New York I like the subway buskers. They are excellent distractions and some of them are talented dancers." She pouted - and whined a little - as she untangled herself, swiping the scrapes of ice off her coat.
"Hey, no bruising those, they're my favourite pillow!" Amanda grinned as she made a point of brushing ice off Marie-Ange's front. "I think we've suffered enough in the name of New York City cliches, let's go get dinner." She managed to leverage herself to her feet again and carefully offered Angie her hand to help her back up. The fact the ice had frozen itself around her skates to hold them still made the whole thing much easier. "Fancy or food gremlin?"
"You got snow in your nose. I want to eat a very unlikely number of potatoes with cheese." As though those two statements were related. Marie-Ange took the hand up, and got her skates stable under herself. "Or a mountain of gyro." She paused. "Or both, I would do both. Cheese fries and gyro?" She slid her way to the short wall on the edge of the rink, following just behind Amanda's city-stabilized path. "We can do fancy when it is well planned and you can talk me into letting you wear your boots under a dress. I always like boots under the dress." It was one of the most quintessential Amanda things, the punk witch that existed no matter what layers of elegance she had to don, and one of Marie-Ange's favorite things. "Right now I just want potato."
"Gremlin it is then." Amanda half-flung herself onto the bench near the edge of the rink, thankful for the stability, and bent to unlace the hired skates. "Nothing but the best for my girl - I know just the place."
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Date: 2024-02-02 06:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-02-02 06:39 pm (UTC)