fandomtownies | Luke's, Sunday

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Luke's, Sunday

"And this," the cook said, holding up an apple cobbler, "is what I like to call, 'the busboy.' This one," he gestured to a peach sorbet, "is 'dishwasher.'"

"I have a name," the dishwasher protested at a mumble, but it was lost to a mouthful of peach sorbet, which he'd been given by the cook without charge, because he was its namesake and all.

"I made one for the cook," the busboy chirped, holding up a plate of fries with a mess of cheese and gravy on them.

"That's already poutine," the dishwasher pointed out. The cook didn't see a problem with that. "It's a Canadian dish."

Today's Specials:
Pancakes, probably
Unless you want to order a dishwasher.

"This is about the Hera, isn't it?"

The cook just smirked at Kanan, and then winked.

[OOC: Open!]

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Summer was already thinking of mixing it up that day since she didn't think her stomach could handle her usual diner order after her low-key bender that started with too much sugar and ended with basically leprechaun piss. But the special's board made her linger with a worried expression as she took her seat and tentatively asked, "Why would I want to order a dishwasher?"

"The dishwasher is a peach sorbet, I think," Kanan said, scratching his chin. "The kitchen staff thought it would be cute to name dishes after one another."

For no particular reason. Definitely no reason that would even remotely have anything to do with a mixed drink with cayenne pepper on top.

Summer's face made it very clear how stupid she thought that was, as did her upturned palms. "That's it?" she asked. "Just peach sorbet, nothing mixed with it or anything? You can't call something that's just one thing by someone's name-slash-title."

She raised her voice so that it carried back to the kitchen. "It's not cool if you just blatantly rip off of someone else's idea, either!" she shouted.

She just kind of liked shouting at the kitchen staff sometimes.

She was going to make a great jello diner owner one day.

Then back to normal: "Speaking of which....what'd she say, what'd she sayyyy? She hadn't tried the drink yet when I talked to her!"

Hey, sometimes the kitchen staff needed to be yelled at!

Meanwhile, Kanan was kind of ducking his head and grinning.

"I mean... I think it was well-recieved. She made a Kanan and had Kitty send one my way?"

It had been... very much a drink with a garnish chosen by someone who wasn't quite familiar with Earth food yet.

"She did?" Summer asked, her voice reaching a pitch that likely had gotten Stance's attention even from over here. But the gleeful news of a returned gesture was enough to forget her stomach for a moment. "Well, I mean, of course she did, how could she not? What was it, what was it?"

"It was a beer with tequila in it. And coconut on the rim, apparently because I'm hairy."

Kanan gave his shoulders a shrug. But human standards, he wasn't even that hairy. But he could see how it might be a sticking point for a Twi'lek lady.

Summer just sort of stared at Kanan for a long, long moment.

And then promptly busted out laughing, "Ohmygod," she managed to fit in there, because once she started, it just seemed to get funnier and funnier.

Problem with that was that she had that weird mild hangover going on, which meant her head hurt when she laughed, and so did her stomach, but she couldn't help laughing, which meant sounds of pain were intermingled in there as she gripped her head with one hand and her stomach in the other.

"Ohymgod, ow," she laugh-cried. "It hurts."

But damn if that wasn't beautiful.

"I don't even feel sorry for you right now, you know," Kanan groused. "Kark me, Summer. I don't even know what part of that you're laughing about."

"All of it," Summer whimpered when she caught her breath, the laugh diminishing to a chuckle and a groan. She wiped away a tear, though she didn't know whether it came from the laughing or the pain. "Everything. Everything about it. It's so terrible; it's perfect."

"Well, that's the drink I get for free for life," Kanan replied, rolling his eyes and smirking a little. "So I guess I'm going to have to develop a taste for coconut. The rest of it is more accurate than I want to admit."

But coconut because he happened to be a mammal...

"Lucky you!" Summer chirped. "I don't think I will try a Kanan in a million, billion years. I do kind of wish now I'd made a BDG, though. Then you might have...options. Between terrible drinks."

"And see, now I feel this burning need to ask you what the hell would go into a BDG. It has to be better than what I suggested to Kitty, anyway."

She'd shot his drink idea for a Kanan down pretty much the moment he'd suggested it. This was definitely for the best.

"...Do I want to know what you suggested?" Summer asked, after a moment of debating with herself that same question.

She so totally did.

"I suggested she blindfold Tino and then mix together the contents of the first five bottles he manages to get his hands on," Kanan replied easily. "Every time."

"Oh. Mygod," said Summer. "That is the dumbest, stupidest, greatest thing ever. How could she not let that be a thing? It's totally gotta be a thing. Next time I go in, I'm ordering one. A Kanan Kanan. Not a Hera Kanan."

Never a Hera Kanan, ugh.

"Yeah, Kitty vetoed it after I listed off five different things you can find in a bar that aren't even remotely alcoholic. I think hot sauce and beer nuts were involved," Kanan mused, scratching his chin. "But it seemed me enough at the time, anyway. You never quite know what you're in for, but the odds are pretty good that it'll be a hot mess and you won't know about it until it's already too late."

"Perfect," Summer said with a pleased smile. "I love it. But...I really don't think you're half as bad as you seem to think you are."

Her Hot Mess bar was set pretty remarkably high, though.

"Much as I appreciate the vote of confidence, I've met me," Kanan replied easily. "Not even saying this because I'm down on myself, I'm just being realistic, here."

Hot. Mess.

"Mmmmmm." Summer wasn't buying it, not even if he put it on sale. "Lukewarm mess at best. I mean, look. You've got a stable job and a roof over your head. You've got a deeply caring friendship with a super hot pilot lady. Sure, it might not lead to anything more in the long run, but that's still so much more than what most people have. You've got the adoration of a bunch of stupid kids you're teaching flying and sword work to, and you haven't even killed Stance yet. Plus, you've got this really important overarching goal of defeating the Empire for the betterment of your whole galaxy. None of that is even remotely near hot mess territory.

"Meanwhile, I did tell you about how my dad's exgirlfriend tried to kill me because he was too much of a coward to tell her he wanted to break up with her and blamed it on his kids, right? Or I could show you my sophomore yearbook picture, where I have a black eye from where my mom, who was too drunk to drive me to school that day, hit me with a wine bottle. Oh, and there's my grampa, who turned himself into a pickle just to avoid having to go to a family therapy session that we had because my fourteen year old brother kept peeing his pants in school."

Summer Smith, Gold Medal in the Hot Mess Family Olympics since 2003.

"Like, sure, you're not a paragon of perfection or anything, but credit where credit's due, man. You're way too hard on yourself. You're a good guy. Full stop."

That was... actually kind of touching.

Okay, the pickle thing was weird. But the rest was touching. And heartbreaking. In about equal measures. Kanan bit his lip, mulling over some of the places he'd been in his life, and then decided to settle on one of the less shocking bits of his history. It wasn't even like it was much of a secret around the island, but he and Summer had never really gotten into...

Well. Into any of that.

"I was a war veteran by sixteen," he offered. "I never knew my family. I don't even actually know what world I was born on. It never really mattered."

He shrugged.

"There's a lot I keep close, that I don't just chat about. Maybe I'm a good guy, but there's still a lot going on that I don't wear on my sleeve."

Jedi didn't wear much on their sleeves, granted.

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Luke's, Sunday

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