fandomtownies | The Beach, Monday afternoon

After classes were over (or roughly, it wasn't like he kept track like some kind of creeper), he put on his favorite Hawaiian shirt from the Shenanigans--the Hot Dog Bigfoots--and headed down to the beach.

In a little while, there were four fires roaring merrily: three on different grills with a variety of meats, one sequestered just for pork products, and one for vegetarian options. Steve'd even sourced some fresh ahi again and was feeling particularly pleased with himself about that.

The fourth fire was a cute little bonfire with neatly stacked rejected Shenanigan shirts placed a safe distance from it, along with buckets of water and sand for fire safety (and because McGarrett had 100 percent been a Boy Scout).

There were coolers of drinks including one of beer with a sign--"If you are from the HS and take a beer at a cop party, you're dumber than we thought and are v sad for you"--as the only disincentive.

Come on down, Fandom! Say goodbye to the summer. Eat food, drink beer, get rid of polyblend if that's your thing...

[OOC: Open to everyone!]

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"No, but I'm surprised he landed on something," Annie noted, pleased as she leaned into him a little. Here she'd kind of figured he might find some kind of late-season state fair where they could competitively eat or something? That seemed like a Lutheresque good time after she'd seen him eat all those eggs back in 1963. "What are you guys up to? I'm still gonna keep bail money on standby."

"There'll be no need for that," Diego assured her. "I don't think anybody has gotten in legal trouble during karaoke."

"...are you gonna sing?" Annie asked, her eyes widening.

First and foremost: she would get a recording of this from someone, so help her.

But secondly, you could practically see all the future duets she'd try to negotiate out of him all over her face.

You'd rethink that once you heard him sing, Annie.

"Uh, yeah, obviously," Diego said. "It's my party, I'll sing if I want to."

Annie was a good enough singer for both of them!

"I really want to see this," Annie told him, which was as much warning as he'd get that she would absolutely be asking half his bachelor party to film it for her. "But karaoke is really...nice? Sort of traditional, without being sleazy."

She'd approve of mild sleaziness, for the record.

"I don't think Luther Hargreeves is capable of being sleezy," Diego said. "If Klaus hadn't blurted it out in a bowling alley I would have thought he was still a virgin."

"Honey, take it from someone who knows: being sleazy as hell and being a probable virgin? Not at all mutually exclusive," Annie pointed out, making a face. That was something she didn't and wouldn't miss about being mega-famous (though she got a reminder every time she looked at the comments of one of her broadcasts. Never read the comments, guys!) "But...good for Luther?"

That sounded like it had been kind of recent, actually, so...good for Luther, the Late Bloomer.

"I didn't ask too many questions," Diego said. "One, the brother thing. Two...the less I know about that ape body the better."

"That's got to work for someone out there," Annie sighed, trying simultaneously not to be judgmental about Luther's ape body while also whole-heartedly believing that somewhere, in some universe, there was a woman who couldn't care less if he was all hairy and primate-y. "I have a feeling my bachelorette party's gonna make up for the lack of sleaze, for the record."

Like. She just...had a feeling, based on her (beloved, hand-picked, cherished, but kind of delightedly sleazy) Maid of Honor.

"Good," Diego said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "One of us should have strippers and decorations in the shape of genitalia."

"I promise nothing too crazy," Annie assured him, flushing slightly and smiling at the kiss. "If I know Summer, I'm coming home with some wild decorations and party favors, but it's probably mostly going to be drinking, probably karaoke for us too, and just a lot of telling each other how beautiful we are. Maybe a little crying."

The power of female friendships distilled, right there.

"Nobody is crying at my party." If anyone did, they would be shamed accordingly.

"Mmmm." Annie found that to be a bold prediction. She at least knew for sure there was going to be plenty of crying at the actual wedding. "I mean, you can. Because it's your party." Had to be said. "Maybe someone'll say something really moving. Oh, no, wait -- maybe someone'll sing something really moving."

"There isn't a song in the world that would make me cry." Especially one sung by the likes of his brothers or Steve.

"You say that now," Annie said challengingly. "Are you gonna bring all these dudes to pick out your clothes with you, too?"

For the most part, her bachelorette party was probably going to be the same women who had gone to Kleinfeld with her -- minus one slightly-deadish former Maid of Honor, but plus a walking pair of dimples to make up for her.

"...have you seen the way my brothers dress?" That would be a no, Annie. He'd be picking his suit by himself.

"You trusted Klaus to help with my ring," Annie pointed out (and, like, kind of making Diego's case for him there, a little.) "I bet they'll all have opinions on what you should wear, anyway. When I did my thing everyone had a different dress they wanted me to try."

And none of them had really looked much like what she'd gone with, in the end. Allison's pick had come closest. (Though, like. Summer's had its own merits.)

"I don't think it works like that for guys," Diego said. "Men's suits all kind of look the same anyway."

Timothee Chalamet and Harry Styles would disagree but Diego couldn't pull off those 'fits anyway.

The Beach, Monday afternoon

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