A day on the beach

[Hans von Goeben]

"Well, seeee?", Hans rolls his eyes, "Just like I said...Sir." He crosses his arms, almost sounding like an annoyed teenager. The shop owner comments it with a grunt. "The bikes are in the courtyard, unlocked. Don't scratch the paintjob, beanpole. Same counts for the girl."
It is probably a good move to keep his mouth shut until they were on the road. Flora, on the other hand, has a hard time to hold back an amused smile.

Ten minutes later, two roaring engines are raising dust off the dry highway in the middle of Gran Canaria's desert.
"Sheesh, finally...", Hans sighs over the communication device inside the helmet, "...I was so close to telling that meathead. What a jerk!"
"Hey, all went well and we're on our merry way to the beach. Besides, he was not your league...egghead.", she teases with a chuckle. "Oh, hardy-har-har, Miss Flora. I simply didn't want trouble with the police drones..."

The closer the duo gets to their destination, the greener nature gets. Soon, the road leads through pine forests and dry grassland. The rather quick change in beautiful sceneries has let them left silence, simply enjoying the ride on a lush planet. A welcomed change to the empty vaccuum in space. Eventually, the navigation system lead them off-track towards large dunes:
The ocean lies ahead.

Fresh, salty air and the swooshing sound of waves welcome every beach guest, just like the small bar made of wood and reed. Neatly placed in the shadow of palm trees, it serves as the social hotspot in the area.
Flora and Hans take off the restraining helmets to take in the sensations. An impulsive, happy smile forms on both of them. "So, Flora. Hit the bar first for the business stuff...or a quick dive into the sea?"