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This might be the most horrid winter of all time, thought Linnea as she used one foot to grind someone's still-smoldering cigarette butt into the gravel of the path.

She was bundled up in a rather warm coat, gloved hands jammed into her pockets, but it was something of a pretense. Or maybe a hopeful gesture. It was a little too warm for what she was wearing but if she dressed like it was going to snow maybe it finally would. As it was, visiting the Destiny City park when it was like this was just... sad. The trees were tragically bare, the grass was green but so sparse on the ground as to look sickly, and the sky was hovering indecisively between partly cloudy and full on dismal grey. Normally January was one of her favorite times of the year to be outdoors. Mid-season, yet still more pleasant than February... Maybe it had something to do with that Nordic blood of hers. Lene was never adverse to going outside when there was a nice fresh blanket of snow on the ground (and a good coat to protect her from the cold). Winter without snow was like a really long autumn without the fun of the colorful leaves.

Despite all of that there were plenty of people out in the park, most all of them walking dogs or pushing strollers. She supposed that the only people out today were the ones who were obligated to be. As for Lene? Time wasting mostly. She was out of ballet classes for the week, out of puzzles to do and none-too-keen on doing Senshi patrols during the daytime. Even in this horribly disappointing non-winter there were things to enjoy outside still. The birds and wildlife that normally would have curled up somewhere cozy for the season had stayed active, and at present Lene was watching a comically tense squirrel-vs-squirrel showdown. They'd been chasing each other, having twitchy standoffs and tittering for five minutes now, and still the confrontation didn't seem to be ending any time soon. Growing weary of standing in one spot to watch, Lene stepped backwards without breaking her line of sight and flopped very abruptly onto the nearest park bench flanking the path, unaware of and unconcerned with anyone she might have disturbed in doing so.

The sound of someone speaking to her startled her and when Lene turned her head the sight that greeted her was even more startling. How the hell did she manage to miss all this? She was about to apologize for potentially blocking his view of the park when Lene got a good look at his face. Yeah, sure those squirrels were cute but hot damn. She wasn't usually so unaware. Given how she'd backed up without much care and sat herself down next to him it was a wonder that Lene hadn't knocked over his entire set up. Which might have been a great start in a romantic comedy, but this was not a romantic comedy.

She said 'good afternoon' or maybe 'hello' or something else to that effect, Lene wasn't actually sure what she responded with. She was still processing the sight of him. Red hair. Freckles. An accent (from where she couldn't tell with only one word to go on). Glasses. Good god. She hoped she wasn't turning red.

Brushing a lock of hair behind her ear unconsciously she looked from his face to the painting he was working on. Her parents liked art and even collected some, but Lene herself knew nothing about it. It looked like a good painting to her. At least she knew a good face when she saw one. Actually she was probably staring at him a bit too openly, but what the hell? It never hurt to let a boy know you thought he was cute. Especially when you thought he was really cute.

"Your painting is prettier than the actual park," she said as she smiled at him, lacing her fingers together in her lap. <********> she thought immediately. Of course it is, that's the point! Moving on! "Do you come here often? I don't think I've seen you before, and I know I'd remember if I did." No, that's so generic!

"I see," said Lene. "Yes, it doesn't seem easy to work in a public place. Inclement weather and other unexpecteds aside, you've probably got girls coming over and interrupting you all the time. How can you ever get anything done?"

And I am one of those girls, she thought, flushing. What if she was imposing, a nuisance, and he was just being polite to her? Then he offered his hand and the amused tilt to his expression made her feel she was doing alright.

"Pleasure to meet you Fritz," she said as she took his hand. "I'm Lene."

She looked at the bits of yellow he'd just added and the brightness made her notice the red he'd worked into the tree now. That was really very lovely. She might not be an art connoisseur, but Lene knew colors (admittedly that was most because of fashion) and those were beautiful. She sat back in the bench, hands placed on her crossed legs as she looked out at the dismal park scenery. It was really amazing, what someone like Lene would only see as disappointing someone like Fritz could see as potential.

"More often than I have been lately. I usually come for the scenery, but this hasn't been a very impressive winter so far." Resting her head on one hand Lene glanced back over at him, a crooked and slightly nervous smile on her lips as something dawned on her. "Ah, but come to think of it... you probably wouldn't be out painting with a foot of snow on the ground, so maybe I'm lucky this year."

Crap, was that coming on too strong? And hell, it wasn't like she was entirely new at this... Lene had thought she normally performed better than this. Maybe it was because he really was distractingly cute. Maybe she should back off a bit.

"Must be a true artist then," she said, twisting her hands together nervously. Her smile was looking a little shaky under her red cheeks. "Rain or shine or general lackluster weather."

The conversation seemed dangerously close to one of those awkward lulls, which of course meant death to flirting, but after that she wasn't really sure what to say. It seemed imprudent to come out right then and ask him for his number or something, even if she could manage to dress it up in cute language. Besides, he might be kind of traditional and rather ask for hers instead? Assuming this was going alright enough that he would.

She decided to voice a thought that she had been curious about from the beginning.

"If... you don't mind my asking," Lene said haltingly, "where are you, um, from? Aside from, uh, here. Um. Your accent..."

- sounds English?
- sounds adorable?
- is none of my business?
- there is an appropriate way to end this sentence??

Hopefully it wasn't rude. It probably was. This was probably all a huge failure. Oh god-

A flat. Dear god, he called it a flat. She was afraid she was going to explode and-

"Oh goodness, there's two of you," said Lene in a surprised voice that suggested the idea was making her feel faint. Honestly that wasn't too far from the truth. Yet she seemed much more animated now, leaning towards him in such a quick motion as to send one of her long braids tumbling over her shoulder. "And I thought you might be! From London, huh... That's really cool! Oh! Isn't there a Battersea in London too? Did you end up going from one to the other, I wonder?"

It was lucky for Lene that Fritz was so forgiving of her awkwardness. He was also clearly much better at this (and her competitive side was grumbling about having the conversation get away from her like it did). With a face like that he was probably getting a lot of practice, though, despite what he claimed about rarely being interrupted.

She seemed to remember herself when he gave her that mischievous look (it might've made her blush, but really how would you even be able to tell at this point?) and straightened her back. "Well," she said, casting her gaze about the park innocently, "now that you mention it I am a bit peckish. It would be pretty depressing to eat alone with nothing to think about but this dreary weather... maybe, ah, if you have the time you could tell me about London over lunch?" Lene could only hope she looked less sheepish than she felt.

"Ollie? It's cute though!" Lene said, laughing. "Maybe that's the problem."

She drew herself up off the bench so as to give Fritz more room to move while packing up his supplies, dusting off the bottom of her coat with her hands in two quick strokes. Oh, but maybe she should have remained seated, now it must look like she was impatient to get going and him having to put away his supplies away was a nuisance. "Do you need any help?" Given how quickly and easily he collapsed the easel, that didn't seem likely.

"I guess you can't pass up on that. It sounds to me like it was intended just for you. Funny, since this is a place called Destiny City..."

Lene spun a full revolution on her heel idly as he finished placing the last items in the bag, her hands meeting behind her back when she stopped. "Lunch, then," she said. "Sounds like a good plan! Though honestly I think a city with a thousand years of history is probably more interesting than here. I'm sure the most exciting things going on here you've already heard about." It was a bit of a dark matter to bring up so offhandedly and not very flattering to poor ol' Destiny City, but hey, it was the truth. And he had to know about it already. The 'terrorist' problem wasn't a secret well-kept from the local news, though they might not know what any of it was really about. She frowned momentarily, cut by a shard of guilt over flirting and acting so frivolously when there was such dark work to be done later that evening. It seemed a bit wrong somehow.

She shrugged it off and smiled at him cheerily once more. "So! Ah, what is it you like to eat? There's some 'ethnic' stuff about, um- there's a Thai place that's pretty good that's not far, for instance. And there's this French bistro-y kind of thing on the south end that I can vouch for."

Fritz's comment about his twin brother was met with a raised eyebrow from Lene. Now she was curious. Ollie couldn't be that bad, siblings were always made out to be worse than they were.

"Surely you're not suggesting divine intervention?" Lene asked with mock scandal in her voice, though it was quickly turning into quiet laughter. Then she turned away, pulling at the end of each finger on her left glove absentmindedly as she remarked, "I shouldn't like to think that my life was constantly being manipulated, though... in this case I don't suppose I mind much."

When she glanced back over at him she found him offering his arm to her and she blinked in momentary surprise. Ah, a true gentleman indeed. A wry smile slid up one side of her face. "Not content with just being a true artist, I see. You're turning out to be a man of many talents." And without further delay Lene looped her arm through his.

This was comfortable. Fritz was so effortlessly charming, it was hard not to feel at ease on his arm. Even the conversation's momentary dip into grim territory didn't phase him. Even though Lene knew as well as anyone not to pry, she was curious enough about Fritz to almost ask him to continue when he returned to the subject of lunch. "Perfect," she said, taking the first steps to guide them through the park. The path south would wind around one of the park's artificial lakes. "It's a much prettier walk, anyway, you might find a new place to paint."

They were on the path only ten minutes before buildings began to appear over the tree tops once more. The bistro could be seen across the street, peeking through the obscuring bushes. La Petite Cuillère was a quaint little affair with flower boxes in its big windows and a number of tables scattered about its entrance, though in the dead of winter the boxes and tables both were empty. "Kind of sad looking in the winter," Lene said almost apologetically. It was far more popular in the spring and summer, but they wouldn't have to wait for a table this way.

"Oh no! That sounds serious," Lene teased while the hostess smiled and beckoned them in. "We'll fix that soon enough though."

It was lucky for Fritz's stomach they were seated promptly when they entered. That was the benefit of coming on the off-season to be sure. Of course, it also meant they weren't serving the same seasonal specials Lene was used to and tended to favor. She had to scrutinize the menu almost as much as Fritz, pulling up dusty memories of year-round dishes and glancing up at the blackboard where the dailies had been carefully written out in an elegant cursive. "Um..."

"French onion soup is always good here," she said finally. "I haven't tried most of their baguette sandwiches, but the one with the caramelized onions is good. The special of the day is Ratatouille..." That looked interesting, she hadn't tried that here and she might have done so today were that onion soup not calling to her. Filling, warming and easy to pronounce (that was the most important part - you didn't want to look like an idiot stumbling over French words in front of a cute boy), it was a no brainer. Lene flipped her menu closed. It reminded her of something...

"I've heard that in Europe foreign language requirements in schools are taken much more seriously, people are far more likely to be bilingual there than here," Lene mused aloud, staring out the window. "I've always thought about trying to learn Swedish, but it's never really worked out."