fandomtownies | Luke's, Sunday

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Luke's, Sunday

Another week, another Sunday spent in the diner. Kanan had braced himself for too-many-damn-pancakes coming in this morning, and had been pleasantly surprised to see that the pancake count when he arrived for his shift was a sane amount, and that the cook was back to making them fresh to order.

When Kanan asked why there weren't stacks of the damn things piled up to the ceiling, the cook just shrugged, reached for his container of batter mix, and then raised an eyebrow as the busboy yelped and ran to hide behind one of the booths in the dining area, babbling about being buried alive.

Huh. Trauma worked. Good to know.

Kanan, secure in his ability to walk through the kitchen without having to keep an eye out for falling pancakes, made his way over to grab an apple or something to eat for breakfast...

... and just barely managed to dive out of the way in time as the cook opened the fridge and a sweeping tidal wave of kiwi fruit poured out.

So, that was what today's special was, apparently. Anything and everything, just so long as it came with a side of weird, brown, furry fruit.

[OOC: Continuing my no OCD trend because I FEEL LIKE IT THAT'S WHY.]

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Summer had been promised a milkshake or pie yesterday, so, dammit, Summer was going to get a milkshake or a pie. There was just one small problem...

...She'd eaten so much yesterday that she was feeling like she never wanted to eat real food again. This feeling would pass, to be sure, probably by around nine o'clock that night when all she wanted was to pig out on chicken wings, but even around noon when she finally woke up from her food coma, she couldn't fathom putting anything more in her poor, full little stomach.

But pie. Or a milkshake. She couldn't just let that go, so she set out into the town to try to find this diner place, got herself a little lost, but that wasn't so bad because she got to scope out what the town was like, and it was kind of lame, but also kind of cool, and she realized she didn't even know where Bus Driver Guy worked, but, hey, this was a diner, and so she stepped in to see if it was the right place, and, lo and behold, there he was.

"Hey! Bus Driver Guy!" She walked in and tried to subtly (tried to; failed) check out the place, which seemed like a normal diner for the most part, so that was good, and took a seat at the counter. "Can I, like, take a rain check on the whole food thing from earlier?"

Even as she said it, her stomach gave another little twist that reminded her of why binging on ALL THE FOOD was a bad, bag idea, but she tried really hard to hide her wince as her hands went to her belly.

"It's Kanan," Kanan laughed, shaking his head a little. "And sure, you can take a raincheck. Get a little carried away at the picnic, did you?"

He was trying not to look half as amused as he was. But, well... he was amused.

Very.

Nope! It was Bus Driver Guy. Sorry, Kanan.

And Summer could see your attempts at not being amused, Bus Driver Guy. She couldn't hold it against you, though.

"Yeaaaahhhhh," she said, "just a little."

A lot. Don't mind the interesting contortions her face was going through as she tried to hold down a burp, one of many that had been plaguing her all day so far.

She failed. She totally burped, just a little, but she at least covered her mouth.

"Whatever," she said. "Worth it."

Yeah, okay, Kanan had to laugh at that one, shaking his head. There were worse ways to be than well fed and a little gassy.

"Well, at least you had a good time," he mused. "How're you taking to the island so far?"

"So far," Summer said, with a little caution as if being too confident in it would jinx it, "so good. Yesterday was really...enlightening. This place isn't what I thought it was going to be, and I think I'm going to like it a lot more than I was thinking, but don't let that fool you, it still kind of sucks to be here."

And she wasn't going to forget that she probably liked it here because she was supposed to like it here. Happy people didn't rebel.

Kanan gave his shoulders a shrug at that, picking up one of the few thousand rogue kiwi fruits and tossing it up and down in the air a few times.

"Yeah," he replied, "I'm not a fan of being stuck here either. I mind the island a lot less now that I can come and go as I please, more or less. And you still haven't had any classes yet. It could still turn out to be awful."

What? He wasn't going to try to blow sunshine up her back end on that one.

Just ignore the glare Summer was giving you just then, Kanan. She actually appreciated not having any sunshine up her back end, but the topic at hand just called for a glare, accompanied with a groan, followed by slouching down on the counter.

"I just got a look at my workshops," she muttered. "They're, like, the most basic, boring, dumb, pointless classes ever."

Except for the one, but she felt it would be weird to talk to Bus Driver Guy about that one.

And she hadn't even seen what other classes were available yet to compare just how dumb and purposefully useless to her they were.

"Oh yeah? What've you signed up for?"

Color Kanan curious, here. He'd probably end up laughing at the thought of most of them being called basic, boring, and dumb. But then, he'd been here long enough to know better.

"I didn't sign up for them," Summer stated, sitting up and jamming a finger into her chest for emphasis. She wanted to make this absolutely, one hundred percent clear, lest anyone think she would subject to herself to such mediocre, nerdy crap. "The Galactic Federation signed me up for them."

She cleared her throat, tried to look a little dignified, which was hard with another little burp fitting in there. More and more like her Grampa Rick every day, it seemed.

She started counting on her fingers. "I've got some home ec 'advanced takeout' bullshit, solving conflict through nonviolence"--although, really, that one she didn't mind-- "arts and crafts and woodworking" --clearly, those were the biggest offences to her sensibilities -- "and then Poledancingforfitness."

The last one, easily the coolest and the one she was looking forward to the most, said very, very quickly, because, come on, she might be messed up, but at least Summer had healthy boundaries with the older men she somehow naturally gravitated toward out of the attention she was deprived of from her grandfather.

Yeah, that amused look on Kanan's face wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

"Yep," he agreed, "sounds like a bunch of perfectly normal, boring high school classes to me."

Especially that last one. Absolutely.

Funny. The permanence of Kanan's bemusement seemed to math the permanence of Summer's glares, this one with a little bit of a suspicious flair.

"I guess it could be worse," she allowed. "I mean, at least they didn't stick me with Underwater Basket Weaving, right?"

"I'm pretty sure the school actually had a class that did that, once," Kanan replied, shrugging. "I mean, literally. I was looking through old class rosters once for ideas and it was right there."

Because this place was weird.

"So, I mean, how good are you at holding your breath?"

Why was she not surprised? "Not very good at all," she said. But, then again, she wouldn't even try to hold her breath. Summer didn't believe in trying when it came to school. "So I'd probably just drown, and now I'm wondering why isn't that one of my classes this year?"

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The diner wasn't Hannibal's usual haunt, no, but he was aware Kanan worked there, and he wanted to speak with him. And he suspected the food couldn't be terrible, with Eliot in charge.

So, here he was, looking for Kanan and eyeing the river of kiwi askance.

"Hey, Doctor," Kanan greeted as Hannibal came in. "... Do you like furry brown fruit?"

Please take the furry brown fruit. Please.

"It has its uses, and can be good if it's fresh," Hannibal said. "Why is there so much of it?"

"No karking clue," Kanan admitted, shaking his head. "My guess is the island's making up for how the cook isn't trying to kill us all with pancakes by giving us all of... those... things."

He glanced suspiciously at the fruit.

"They came pouring out of the fridge like that. They taste pretty fresh to me, but I'll be the first to admit I'm not sure what fresh-that-fruit is supposed to taste like in the first place."

"Kiwi," Hannibal supplied. "And I'm willing to try one to tell you if it's fresh."

He sat down at the counter. "Also, how is your coffee, or have you managed caf yet?"

"Oh, have I ever managed caf," Kanan replied, grinning broadly as he stooped down to pick up a fruit to toss in Hannibal's direction. "I think I have enough to last Hera and I about a year if Portalocity ever gets any more stupid ideas about their methods of dealing with mynocks."

Kriffing mynocks.

Hannibal grinned and caught the kiwi. "May I have a knife? And I'll take some caf, then, if you don't mind sharing. You're in regular contact with your galaxy now, then?"

"I am," Kanan agreed, smirking as he stepped into the kitchen for a moment and came out with a knife and strict orders for the cook to not screw up his caf.

Because yes, of course he'd brought some to work. Why drink coffee if he didn't need to?

"Hera and I take trips back there pretty frequently now. We've got more nerf at home than any two people really need."

And he was okay with this.

"I'd love to learn to cook that as well," Hannibal said. "Although that is not why I'm here."

He took the knife up and began delicately peeling the kiwi. "I met a young lady from your galaxy yesterday. And, if I'm not mistaken, from approximately the same time as you and your friend."

"Oh yeah?" Yeah, that was one way to grab Kanan's attention. Well done, Hannibal. "I can't imagine she's somebody I know. I get around, but the galaxy isn't exactly small. What did you need?"

He was also paying close attention to how Hannibal was peeling that weird fruit, yes. He'd just kind of bitten into it.

Edited 2017-05-08 00:33 (UTC)

"I merely thought that I would let you know." Hannibal shrugged. "We had a bit of an awkward start; she thought I was her father."

He looked around for the squirrels and shooed them off with a promise of rum later.

"She mentioned he had been taken by the Empire, and her mother killed."

And at that, Kanan sighed, shaking his head a little and glancing toward the kitchen to see if that caf was ready yet. It wouldn't be. It had only been a few moments. But he suspected he was going to need it.

"That's not an uncommon story back home," he noted. "Well. The father part is new."

Not as new as Kanan thought, mind.

"Hopefully she didn't take the news that you weren't her father too badly."