"You know," Clark said, in-between rising above the water to take breaths as he swam. "I really hate you."

John shrugged; or, at least, performed as much as a shrug as you can while swimming. "I don't see why."

"What do you mean, you don't see why?"

"We're doing what I said we'd do, right? Go for a swim together. You were all uppity about the whole thing, so I challenged you to do one length of the pool with me. Well, here we are, doing one length."

"Yes, but you didn't tell me that we were going to be swimming across the Channel."

John snorted. "Not my problem. You never asked."

The pair kept swimming in silence. A small horn blared as a ship drove by, making a lot faster progress than both of them put together.

"I still think you're rotten," Clark said.

"Oh, get over it already. Soon, we'll be at the shores of France with absolutely no travel costs, and we'll be drinking wine and lounging in hotels and taking in the culture of a new country."

"But we left all our belongings back in the changing room, remember?"

"Ah. Well, that might be a problem. We might have to impress a few shop owners into giving us free stuff, 'cause we just swam the Channel and such. If you find any tin cans or shopping trolleys as you go, grab them too. Probably sell them for scrap."

"So when we've had our holiday, what are we going to do then?"

John stopped in the water, treading it as he thought. "I dunno," he said. "Never got that far in the thought process. We'd swim back, probably."

Clark rolled his eyes. Next time, he'd just spend a little extra for a ferry.