fandomtownies | Luke's, Sunday

"Nghhnnnghn." Kanan leaned forward and kind of mashed his face into the counter at Luke's. "Hngh."

He'd had a little too much to drink last night at Peter's, and then after three hours and fifteen minutes of Titanic hell, he'd sort of staggered back to his own apartment and had some more. Now he wasn't completely sure if he was hung over or still at least a little bit drunk, but whatever it was he didn't like it, and he didn't actually want to be here today.

"So," Cookie said, wandering out of the kitchen for a moment to set a card down in front of him, "I guess this is a bad time to give you this?"

Kanan looked balefully at the cook, and then reached for the card. Squinted at it. Blinked and then leaned in to squint closer. At first glance it looked like all the rest of the Christmas cards that were littering the streets today, but this one clearly featured a picture of an elderly Sullustan woman sitting in a garden, a light dusting of snow around her, next to a large, rather lovely tree. He opened it up and smiled a little at the note, from Zaluna, talking about how she loved her new home, the quiet life she'd been given, and hoped that wherever they had gone, Hera was still keeping him in line. It was addressed to the both of them.

"Nah," he said, after reading it over a few more times. "It's never a bad time for this."

Today's Specials:
Confit Duck Leg with Flageolet Ragoût and Celeriac Mash
Beef Cheek and Butternut Broth in Sourdough
Pancakes

It wasn't that long before he was grumbling into the countertop again, mind. Were there any more cards waiting for him in there?

[OOC: Open!]

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Miguel walked in, blinked at Kanan, and frowned. "I thought you were the Sunday guy?"

Kanan made a gurgle sound and threw a wadded-up napkin at Miguel. He was too hung over to deal with this right now.

"I am the Sunday guy. You're late."

A full day late, Miguel. A full day.

Miguel caught the napkin reflexively. "Wait, what?" He pulled out his phone and pulled up...

"Oh." Where had Saturday gone?

"Hard to keep track of the days when you're only working one a week, isn't it?"

Kanan understood. He really did.

"And when you've spent time as a kid," Miguel agreed. "Guess I'll have to apologize to Eliot for missing yesterday. Need any help today?"

Kanan gave Miguel the biggest, saddest eyes a guy with a hangover could possibly muster.

"You'd be my hero. Yesterday was definitely... what it was."

He didn't want to talk about it. And also he wanted to yell about it and throw things.

"One of those days, huh?" Miguel took off his jacket and walked around the counter. "You need some coffee?"

"That depends entirely on what I think I can get away with putting into that coffee today," Kanan muttered. And then sort of leaned back and let his head loll behind him as he stared up at the ceiling. "Okay, no, coffee's good. I'll take the coffee."

Why did he let himself do stupid things like this? Why?

"Plain coffee," Miguel said, though he grinned a little sympathetically. "I could probably be talked into cream and sugar, if you're a heathen."

There was a long pause while Kanan contemplated the positives and negatives of cream.

"Nope, I'm gonna drink it black today," he decided. "It's more effective if it bites back."

"Sounds good." And fortunately the cook had already set a pot on.

Unfortunately, he was side-eyeing Miguel and required an apology before he'd let him have it.

But shortly thereafter, there were two cups in his hands, and he slid one over to Kanan.

"Long night?"

Kanan's initial reply to that was another "Hnnnngh."

Because really, why use words when random mouth sounds summed it up so well?

But a moment later, after he'd had a chance to take the cup and have a drink, he added, "Yeah. Arranged a movie night with a friend. Met his new roommate, the unapologetic colonialist prick."

Such a charmer, that Seivarden.

"And like the idiot mynock I am, I didn't actually leave right away."

"So given the current state of your head, I'm guessing instead of punching him, you drank yourself out of it."

Couldn't you have just out-sniped him on the way out the door? That usually worked for Miguel.

"I wasn't punching my friend's roommate." A long pause. "Not in front of my friend, anyway."

The jury was still out on any other time ever.

"Ugh." Miguel picked up a rag and made himself useful in between sips of coffee.

"You want to head home? I can pick up today if you want." Since he'd thought it was Saturday anyway, and all.

There was another long pause as Kanan weighed factors like 'responsibility' and 'giving a shit.'

"Yeah," he muttered. "I think maybe I do. Anyway, I have a card here I think Hera would like to see, too. I can come back later, when my brain stops trying to escape."

Having found herself with two Christmas cards on her way in (one from Gramma and Grampa Smith and Jacob and another one from Mr. Poopybutthole, so she'd have to remember to pick up a Hanukkah card for him on her way home!), Summer bounced into the diner in a good mood today, ready to spew out her excitement.

"Hey, BDG!" she chirped before she even sat down. "You'll never guess what just fell right from the sk--"

And then she sat and got a good look at him. "Oof. What kind of weird space creature from your universe did Miss Hera turn into this time?"

She could only assume that was the case, and, really, if it was, he didn't look all too bad, everything considered.

"Whatever you feel like," Miguel said. He scrawled his number on a napkin. "Here; call me if you feel like coming back or you need aspirin or something, okay?"

You looked pretty rough, Kanan.

"Wasn't Hera," Kanan mumbled, face still pressed into the counter. "I'm just a moron."

That was a fair and accurate assessment, right there. Wasn't it?

"Might want to keep your voice down," Miguel murmured, smirking at Kanan.

Kanan nodded and reached for the napkin. And then for the card. Which involved putting down the coffee, because apparently he didn't have the presence of mind to put all the paper in one hand.

And then he made a face.

And then he kind of muttered, "Maybe I'll just go pass out in the back for a while instead."

Summer had half a mind to reach out and pat the top of his poor head, but she held off, tilting her own head instead in case he happened to glance up enough to catch the look of concern on her face.

"What happened?" she asked, not even sure where to start guessing. "What'd you do?"

"Just stay out of the freezer," Miguel said helpfully. "Or anywhere you'll get stepped on."

"Sorry," Summer loud-whispered back, but she did drop her voice down after that with a, "I thought this was a diner, not a library. My bad."

But she wasn't smirking a little as well. Honest! She did a really good job of holding it back!

...Good for her, anyway.

"Well, I started with the Coors. And then moved on to the Miller. By the time that was through, I was at home working my way through... I think it was vodka. Maybe it was the rum from the squirrels..."

Seriously, he had been smashed.

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Luke's, Sunday

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