fandomtownies | Luke's, Monday

Eliot had a complicated relationship with Memorial Day. Especially when it started with both Vance and Shelley calling to wish him a happy one. With Shelley Eliot had long since learned to just tune him out when he got all "God bless America I'm married to my country" on him, but Vance always tried to turn things into a recruitment drive. As much fun as he and Vance had disrupting Pakistan's nuclear weapons program a few years ago, there was no way Eliot could handle working for the guy full time again.

Besides, he already had a job. Several, in fact.

So Luke's was not decorated in red, white, and blue bunting, today (though you could still see some tufts of the stuff still taped to the walls). Nor were the specials particularly festive (well, other than being picnic/cookout staples, anyway). There were a few fliers posted about veterans' assistance funds, but otherwise, it was a normal day at Luke's.

"Happy Mem--"

"You shut your goddamn mouth, Cookie!"

See? Totally normal.

Today's specials
Top-your-own grass-fed all beef patty burger
Season-your-own kettle cooked potato chips
Build-your-own sundae

Luke's was open.

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The wait staff had managed to sneak in some festive red, white, and blue napkins, at least.

He'll swear up and down that everything's totally normal, but he is moody as hell, today.

Personally, I plan to celebrate the day by watching an action movie full of women, replanting some herbs, and then ordering the greasiest pizza I can find to eat ALL BY MYSELF.

It's going to be amazing.

Wash was not particularly patriotic, but the significance of the day still wasn't lost on him. And, rather than be maudlin and stew over things, he'd forced himself out of his apartment.

He'd even talked himself down to just a pistol and a knife hidden on his person!

"No decorations?"

Wash, no need to be a dick.

Eliot scowled. "Ain't you from the future or something?" Because that totally meant that national holidays shouldn't exist for Wash.

"Memorial Day still exists," Wash replied. "Space doesn't change that."

Mostly because they were still at war with various beings. Goddammit, Halo.

Edited 2015-05-25 17:12 (UTC)

". . . That's the most depressing thing I've heard in a long time."

It was like Eliot didn't want to memorialize all his fallen comrades.

Or all the soldiers he'd personally killed over the years. . . .

[ooc: and I'm running off to a movie for a bit!]

Edited 2015-05-25 17:14 (UTC)

That was pretty accurate, though.

"That's a little dramatic," he pointed out kindly.

Parker appeared, as she did, and watched Eliot for a while. Memorial Day was not anything she had any feelings about, but even she could see Eliot did. Many of them. Of course, how to be helpful with them was kind of beyond her.

"Is there a difference between free-range and grass-fed?"

When it doubt, give a guy a chance to rant.

"Is it still just an excuse for fire sales and cookouts?" Eliot asked. Grumpily.

"Free-range is about fences. Grass-fed is about food." That wasn't really much of a rant, sorry Parker.

"Not a fan of space mattresses?"

Which were things that existed.

"Hunh." That was short. But something to remember for the future, maybe. "Why are the chips in kettles?"

Now that, she was just curious about.

"There's nothin' memorializin' about buying a goddamn mattress."

"To fry them. So they're nice and crunchy." Eliot eyed her. "You need somethin' in particular, darlin'?"

"And I'm sure you're the very first person to think that," Wash replied.

Hipster veteran hated this before it was cool.

Another nugget of information, squirreled away. "Nope. Just wondering."

She leaned over to poke him. Poke. Poke. There, that would give him an excuse ot go off.

That was a nice trick, since Eliot was literally from 500 years before Wash.

"Who the hell cares if it's original? Doesn't change the fact that it's true."

Eliot tried not to. It wasn't generally considered nice to yell at someone you were sleeping with.

But she just kept doing it.

"Parker, knock it off!"

"Okay." Parker gave him a pleased look. See? Bomb disarmed. Well, okay, bomb exploded, but same thing. (The blast pretty much just ruffled her hair as it went off.)

"I could find someone who needs beating up for you."

It was a little sad how that made him feel better. "The hell're you talkin' about. I don't need to hit anybody."

"Pfftt. But if you did. Or if you just wanted to." Sometimes you just wanted to blow things up! Or hit them! "It might mean going off-island though." With way more Memorial Day... stuff. She considered. "Maybe I can find another teacher who won't mind." That Derek guy, maybe?

Eliot laughed. "You're gonna find a teacher who'll let me beat them up," he said. "Sure."

"Maybe not let. Maybe I can piss them off so they'll think they can beat you up. You know I could annoy someone into it." Although that sounded like too much work. "Or pay them!"

"Wh -- Parker." Eliot rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Don't pay people to try to beat me up."

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