Hawaii 5-0 fic: Milkshake and Fries
Rating: gen
Warning: none spring to mind
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: writing for fun and not for profit
Beta: Springwoof as an absolute STAR
Comments:
1) British English spelling
2) Sentinel AU fusion teeny, little timestamp. A snippety snippet in the ‘Uhane universe
Milkshake and Fries.
By Sealie
“So do you want to be a sentinel or guide?” Lucy asked around her straw, between sucks of her thick milkshake.
“I’m not gonna be, am I?” Grace fumed.
She channelled her Dad when she was upset. Lucy thought that it was hilarious when her dad’s accent came through strongly.
“Guides mostly break out when they’re little, so I’m not going to be a guide. I could be a sentinel. My dad’s a sentinel.”
Grace dunked her fry in her strawberry milkshake and munched, so Lucy kind of guessed that being a sentinel was off the cards.
“Yeah, but do you want to be a sentinel?” Lucy probed. She was allowed, she was Grace’s best friend.
Grace looked around the 1950s themed diner for answers. None of the posters were going to help her, Lucy figured, although Marilyn Monroe was an inspirational, feminist icon.
Be strong, Lucy thought.
“Yeah, ’course I do.” Grace crunched on another fry.
“But?” Lucy tried the dipping, licked and set her fry aside on a napkin - because ugh.
“I guess the slavery aspect is to be frowned upon.”
Rachel’s accent made an appearance; Lucy hunched down in her seat a fraction.
“Slavery?” Lucy asked.
“Forced to attend training schools, assigned guides, inducted into public service whether you like it or not. Poorly paid public service.”
“Whoa.” Lucy turned Grace’s words upside down, shuffled them, and they still said what Grace had just said. “For real?”
“For real. And that’s the sentinels. The guides have it worse.”
“I never… I never knew. For real?”
“No one sees it. It’s in your face.” Grace sucked on her bottom lip. “You just accept it, because that’s the way that it is. Danno was a really good baseball player. He could have been a contender. Yeah, he hurt his knee. But if he hadn’t he would still be a cop, because sentinels in our family become cops or firemen -- firepeople. Uncle Steve--”
Lucy sighed.
“--actually loves playing the flute, but he gave it up as a kid, ‘cos he thought that it would get him sent to Guide Island. I mean, Uncle Steve as a musician, instead of a SEAL, is all kinds of weird, but he should have had the choice.”
“Commander Steve plays the flute?”
Grace nodded.
“Unreal.” Lucy leaned her elbows on the Formica table top. “I don’t think that’s slavery. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t think it’s slavery.”
Grace pushed her milkshake aside. “I heard Uncle Steve say something about being press ganged….”
“What’s that?”
“I dunno. I think it’s a Navy thing.”
“Forced?” Lucy ventured.
“Yeah. But they’re respected, you know. Danno calls it putting him on a pedestal.” Grace stared glumly at her burger. “But he doesn’t like being on a pedestal.”
“I don’t get it. Isn’t that like being royal? Royalty? Like Prince William and Prince Harry?” Lucy thought that was a good thing.
“Danno says that he’s a person that happens to be a sentinel. Not a sentinel that happens to be a person.”
“That’s deep.” She was going to have to think about pedestals and being a person first, though.
Grace nodded.
“And you still want to be a sentinel?” Lucy hazarded.
“Well, yeah, I mean it’s special, isn’t it? And in a good way. You protect people. And it’s weird knowing that there’s this whole other world that you can’t see.” Grace blew out a really, really heavy sigh.
“What do you mean?”
“You know about nā ʻaumākua?”
Lucy nodded. Spirits of the ancestors of native Hawaiians. Protectors. Important. Lucy was from Idaho, she’d moved to Honolulu with her mom because of work. But they had had a really interesting talk from a Kahuna about the people of Hawaii in school last year.
“Danno and Uncle Steve can see them. Danno yells at them a lot. I just want - you know. Grandma’s a sentinel. Grandpa’s a guide. Dad’s a sentinel, and George is a sentinel. My whole family’s special and I’m me.”
“Your mom’s not a sentinel,” Lucy blurted because she had to say something. Nā ʻaumākua?
“Yeah, and I take after mom, everyone says I look like mom. George looks like dad.”
George was a tiny little version of Grace’s dad with extra, added bottled lightning.
“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” Lucy said. “I mean not being a sentinel. The zones and stuff - no jalapeño poppers.”
Grace gave her a flat look, and, yeah, Lucy knew that it sucked.
“I guess,” Lucy struggled. “You are like your dad -- I mean you look like your mom -- but you are a lot like your dad. You’re good at sports like your dad. Your mom’s an accountant, and you can’t add up a column of numbers without a spreadsheet.”
“Gee, thanks, Luce.”
“Some sentinels don’t break out until they’re ancient. It could happen. But--” Lucy sighed, this was hard, “I’m still going to be your friend if you’re a sentinel or not. But maybe you just have to figure out what makes you special?”
“What makes me special?” Grace pursed her lips, looking back at the pop print of Marilyn.
“Yeah.” Lucy was never going to be a sentinel or guide, but she was really, really good at science, and Commander Steve said that she was brave and cool under fire. She was going to be an EMT, or a doctor, or a cop, or an explorer of the unforgotten lands
“What makes me special…?” Grace mused again. “Like what?”
“Dunno. Guess we have to find out?”
“Okay,” Grace drawled all the way through the vowels like Commander Steve. She lifted her glass and held it towards Lucy, and jiggled it.
“Oh!” Lucy held up her glass and chinked it against Grace’s glass. “Deal.”
“Deal.”
Fin
Warning: none spring to mind
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: writing for fun and not for profit
Beta: Springwoof as an absolute STAR
Comments:
1) British English spelling
2) Sentinel AU fusion teeny, little timestamp. A snippety snippet in the ‘Uhane universe
Milkshake and Fries.
By Sealie
“So do you want to be a sentinel or guide?” Lucy asked around her straw, between sucks of her thick milkshake.
“I’m not gonna be, am I?” Grace fumed.
She channelled her Dad when she was upset. Lucy thought that it was hilarious when her dad’s accent came through strongly.
“Guides mostly break out when they’re little, so I’m not going to be a guide. I could be a sentinel. My dad’s a sentinel.”
Grace dunked her fry in her strawberry milkshake and munched, so Lucy kind of guessed that being a sentinel was off the cards.
“Yeah, but do you want to be a sentinel?” Lucy probed. She was allowed, she was Grace’s best friend.
Grace looked around the 1950s themed diner for answers. None of the posters were going to help her, Lucy figured, although Marilyn Monroe was an inspirational, feminist icon.
Be strong, Lucy thought.
“Yeah, ’course I do.” Grace crunched on another fry.
“But?” Lucy tried the dipping, licked and set her fry aside on a napkin - because ugh.
“I guess the slavery aspect is to be frowned upon.”
Rachel’s accent made an appearance; Lucy hunched down in her seat a fraction.
“Slavery?” Lucy asked.
“Forced to attend training schools, assigned guides, inducted into public service whether you like it or not. Poorly paid public service.”
“Whoa.” Lucy turned Grace’s words upside down, shuffled them, and they still said what Grace had just said. “For real?”
“For real. And that’s the sentinels. The guides have it worse.”
“I never… I never knew. For real?”
“No one sees it. It’s in your face.” Grace sucked on her bottom lip. “You just accept it, because that’s the way that it is. Danno was a really good baseball player. He could have been a contender. Yeah, he hurt his knee. But if he hadn’t he would still be a cop, because sentinels in our family become cops or firemen -- firepeople. Uncle Steve--”
Lucy sighed.
“--actually loves playing the flute, but he gave it up as a kid, ‘cos he thought that it would get him sent to Guide Island. I mean, Uncle Steve as a musician, instead of a SEAL, is all kinds of weird, but he should have had the choice.”
“Commander Steve plays the flute?”
Grace nodded.
“Unreal.” Lucy leaned her elbows on the Formica table top. “I don’t think that’s slavery. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t think it’s slavery.”
Grace pushed her milkshake aside. “I heard Uncle Steve say something about being press ganged….”
“What’s that?”
“I dunno. I think it’s a Navy thing.”
“Forced?” Lucy ventured.
“Yeah. But they’re respected, you know. Danno calls it putting him on a pedestal.” Grace stared glumly at her burger. “But he doesn’t like being on a pedestal.”
“I don’t get it. Isn’t that like being royal? Royalty? Like Prince William and Prince Harry?” Lucy thought that was a good thing.
“Danno says that he’s a person that happens to be a sentinel. Not a sentinel that happens to be a person.”
“That’s deep.” She was going to have to think about pedestals and being a person first, though.
Grace nodded.
“And you still want to be a sentinel?” Lucy hazarded.
“Well, yeah, I mean it’s special, isn’t it? And in a good way. You protect people. And it’s weird knowing that there’s this whole other world that you can’t see.” Grace blew out a really, really heavy sigh.
“What do you mean?”
“You know about nā ʻaumākua?”
Lucy nodded. Spirits of the ancestors of native Hawaiians. Protectors. Important. Lucy was from Idaho, she’d moved to Honolulu with her mom because of work. But they had had a really interesting talk from a Kahuna about the people of Hawaii in school last year.
“Danno and Uncle Steve can see them. Danno yells at them a lot. I just want - you know. Grandma’s a sentinel. Grandpa’s a guide. Dad’s a sentinel, and George is a sentinel. My whole family’s special and I’m me.”
“Your mom’s not a sentinel,” Lucy blurted because she had to say something. Nā ʻaumākua?
“Yeah, and I take after mom, everyone says I look like mom. George looks like dad.”
George was a tiny little version of Grace’s dad with extra, added bottled lightning.
“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” Lucy said. “I mean not being a sentinel. The zones and stuff - no jalapeño poppers.”
Grace gave her a flat look, and, yeah, Lucy knew that it sucked.
“I guess,” Lucy struggled. “You are like your dad -- I mean you look like your mom -- but you are a lot like your dad. You’re good at sports like your dad. Your mom’s an accountant, and you can’t add up a column of numbers without a spreadsheet.”
“Gee, thanks, Luce.”
“Some sentinels don’t break out until they’re ancient. It could happen. But--” Lucy sighed, this was hard, “I’m still going to be your friend if you’re a sentinel or not. But maybe you just have to figure out what makes you special?”
“What makes me special?” Grace pursed her lips, looking back at the pop print of Marilyn.
“Yeah.” Lucy was never going to be a sentinel or guide, but she was really, really good at science, and Commander Steve said that she was brave and cool under fire. She was going to be an EMT, or a doctor, or a cop, or an explorer of the unforgotten lands
“What makes me special…?” Grace mused again. “Like what?”
“Dunno. Guess we have to find out?”
“Okay,” Grace drawled all the way through the vowels like Commander Steve. She lifted her glass and held it towards Lucy, and jiggled it.
“Oh!” Lucy held up her glass and chinked it against Grace’s glass. “Deal.”
“Deal.”
Fin