Work Text:
The Investigator Confronts the Co-Conspirator
by Irena Adler
"Dad," Don said. "Do you know that Nena is throwing grapefruit at people?"
Alan looked up from his newspaper and smiled at him. He was sitting on the front room couch, just where Don had hoped to find him when he'd gotten home with Nena from the batting cages. Don had sent Nena up to get ready for dinner, then advanced on his father.
"Oh, yes," Alan said easily. "Grapefruitball."
"You know about it?"
"Of course! I'd join in if I wasn't so old and slow."
"But," Don sputtered. "She's throwing grapefruit at people!"
Alan laughed, possibly more at his expression than at his question. "It's just grapefruit from the Mooth's old tree. It's not that hard. And it hasn't been edible since before you were born."
"But … she's throwing it at people!"
"Not just random people, other kids that are playing the game. They throw it at her, too."
"And you think this is okay?"
Alan put down his paper and shook his head at him, grinning. "Oh, how quickly you forget! You and your friends played quite a similar game."
"I never threw fruit at my friends!"
"No, as I recall, it was water balloons. And you'd fling them at hard as you could at each other. While running all over the neighborhood, screaming and yelling."
Don looked uneasily at him, vague recollections stirring.
"That's different."
"Oh?"
"It was a different time back then!"
"It certainly was," Alan said with a smile. "We changed the world."
"I meant, it was a lot safer then."
"You mean for grapefruit?"
Don rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean."
"I do?"
Don growled in frustration and was actually relieved to hear the call for dinner.
As Don stalked away, Alan chuckled and wondered if he had any water balloons.
END