fandomtownies | Luke's Diner; Friday [ 03/27 ].

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Luke's Diner; Friday [ 03/27 ].

Cal came into the diner for work today, whipped up some of his usuals, and then settled behind the counter with a dog-eared book.

Thrilling, his life was. Truly.

But he was definitely not complaining.

Today's Specials
Shrimp Santorini
Skorthalia
Saganaki

There was an S theme today, he guessed.

Luke's is open!

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And put him to work.

Claire came in ~~shockingly late~~ with her backpack slung over one shoulder. "Hey. So is golfing a sport, in your humble opinion?"

[OOC: Yeah, just got online, sorry.]

There was a long pause; Cal's shoulders straightened and he got a look on his face as though he were about to check for people who might threaten him if he said the honest truth.

"I guess...technically? Maybe? I'm too afraid to say because I don't want a nine-iron to the face."

We golfed in gym class today," Claire explained. "I mean, it's more a sport than sheep shearing, I guess."

She scrunched up her face. "Mr. Dex might be the nine-iron-to-the-face type."

"Actually," said Cal, "I think sheep shearing would be more of one. I bet you've got to wrestle the sheep quite a lot to get them to hold still."

"They weren't too hard to work with," Claire said thoughtfully. "I grabbed, that kid Ender sheared, we got it done with fast."

"He only kicked a little."

"Wait, you guys actually sheep sheared in class?"

"Uh, yeah, didn't I tell you?" Claire asked. She so couldn't remember if she had or not. "And -- wait. So he didn't make your class do it last fall? That sucks."

"Maybe I was sick that week?" Cal wondered, shrugging. He'd like to think that he'd remember shearing a sheep, but he wouldn't be surprised if he couldn't.

"Or it's just a new form of torture Dex came up with over winter break," Claire said, dismissing it.

"No career in sheep shearing in your future, Claire?" Cal said with a teasing grin. "I could see that working for you."

Claire made a face at him. "Dunno. Maybe I'll give up and go hang out on a farm. I'll wear overalls and plant things when I'm not shearing sheep."

"Whoa," Cal looked impressed. "Intrepid. All I was thinking was, you know, herding sheep, somewhere in New Zeland, the wind blowing in your hair on those big hills they have by the ocean, you know."

It was all incredibly scenic in his head, really.

Claire's eyes went a little faraway; that was a nice mental image. "Okay, I'm stealing your fantasy and ditching mine. Mine had manure and stuff. And no New Zealand."

"New Zealand's preeeetty," Cal said with a grin. "If it's my fantasy, do I still get to at least be in it?"

"I know," Claire told him. "It's all .. green. And sure. You can herd sheep on the hills with me."

A second later, she added, "I wonder if you can be a shepherd on the beach."

Cal shrugged. "Why not?" he offered. "As long as there's grass nearby."

"Good," Claire said. "So we can be shepherds on hills in the morning, then go and watch the sheep frolic on the beach all afternoon. It'll be all scenic, 'cause, New Zealand."

Apparently, the sun in New Zealand wouldn't give her a sunburn, either, but she was ignoring that.

"And here you were worried," Cal noted with a lopsided grin, "about not having plans for after graduation."

"I know," Claire said, head bobbing. "Shepherds. It's totally obvious."

Though, actually that had reminded her of something; she was unzipping the backpack and fishing around in it. She emerged with a brochure for LAC-Arts, which she held up for Cal. "Oh! So my old guidance counselor -- don't ask, he was kind of a friend -- sent this to my mom to give to me."

Cal arched an eyebrow and held out his hand to see it closer. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Claire said, handing it over. "It's this art school. They have a later application deadline than other colleges. I think I want to fly out and at least tour it, just to see."

She shrugged. "My brother's fiance's brother went there. He's on the list of distinguished alumni."

"Can you use that to your advantage?" Cal asked, giving it a look through.

"If I actually like it and wanna apply? Maybe," Claire said, twisting her lips up. "They make you get artist recommendations of your work, so if I can talk Billy into it..."

Edited 2009-03-28 03:10 (UTC)

"Then you could be all set," said Cal, gaining a little bit of a smile as he handed the brochure back. "If you like it. Of course."

"Right." She took it back and stuck it in her bag carefully, and she couldn't have even told you why she asked this next thing except she did. "You, uh, don't want to come with me when I go out, do you? I mean, I can't go for a couple weeks, anyhow, they only do tours certain dates."

"Go with you?" Cal had to admit to being surprised, but that didn't mean there wasn't something in his chest that positively hurt with how it jumped when she said it. "...Really?"

"... you have to meet my mom," Claire said, thinking it through a little more. "And I swear I wouldn't do anything interesting, if I like it I'd probably just be going crazy trying to get my stuff together for my application before I had to come back here. It might just suck for you."

She took a deep breath. "But ... yeah. I'd like you to see my world."

Cal really couldn't imagine how it would suck to spend more time with Claire; it was California, sure, but different city, and thirty years later, besides.

The mom thing might be weird, but nothing could be worse than Amber's mom, and she hadn't killed Cal yet, so he was pretty good.

"Just as long as you promise not to make fun of me for being astounded by all the crazy technology."

As if he hadn't been here for practically a year now.

Claire, almost giddy, barked out a short laugh of relief. "Sure, but if you start drooling and your eyes go blank I might slap you or something to get you out of it."

"Just don't, like, sell me to a museum or something where they can put me on display as the man who came from the time time forgot, or something."

The seventies could totally be called that.

Especially since, blinking, Cal realized that, hey, maybe he and Claire's mom could bond and relate over them.

Weeeeird.

Claire snorted. "If I tried they'd probably think it was performance art," she said, making a mental note to get David to explain to their mother ahead of time about the whole "he's from 1977" thing.

Don't ask why it was David's job. It just was.

No, no, Cal. Probably not a good idea to mention that you've had enough performance art in California, thanks.

"That's be interesting; you'll keep me updated, then?"

"Of course," she promised.

[OOC: NIGHT! I'll poke you OOC so we can plan.]

Om nom nom.

Where one can find shockingly good offers (http://i208.photobucket.com/albums/bb3/skylieicons/pyzampaperstrips.jpg).

I had something clever to put here, but now I forgot-ed.

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Luke's Diner; Friday [ 03/27 ].

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