Glass Walls
By Shahrezad1
Summary: AU challenge. Place the Brave characters in an environment as close to your own as possible, while retaining their inherent personalities. "To not do the work resulted in not getting paid, which meant moving back in with her parents. And that was a fate worse than death." MeridaXMacGuffin.
Disclaimer: I don't own Brave or the characters therein. But I do own my own experiences. :)
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Merida tried valiantly to hold back her wracking cough in front of the store "Guest," a lady of middling height and extreme weight. She was surrounded by a bevy of small children, all of which seemed to get into everything, and was awkwardly piling more and more items from her cart onto the counter.
It was just another day at work in 'Toys 4 U's electronics section, within her little "fortress of solitude," and as usual the Guest Service counter was utilizing her as a backup cashier yet again. Never mind the tasks that had already been assigned her. Normally she wouldn't have cared, except that the region manager was expected to visit soon enough and she had enough boxes behind her to create a small children's fort. Instead she was burdened with catering to the whims of customers with less focus than a gnat and the organizational skills of a magpie.
All part of the job, she supposed, and reminded herself that it was situations like this which paid for the rent of her flat and tuition for University. To not do the work resulted in not getting paid, which meant moving back in with her parents. And that was a fate worse than death. She honestly couldn't bear it.
The young Associate's smile became strained as one of the little lads, a boy hardly older than three, began screaming for something he could only vaguely articulate.
"I'm so surry," the lady muttered as she pulled him in her arms while simultaneously scrambling to stop her children from ripping a display of batteries from their shelves, "I really am."
"It's no matter. It happens all the time," Merida responded soothingly, scanning yet another item and placing it into one of the store's newfangled "recycled" bags. Of course, the response opened her jaw enough that the cough she'd been holding back burst free. With a hurried turn she whirled around to expostulate harshly into her elbow. It was really the only safe place to do so, what with her hands full and the surrounding counter a likely place for sharing germs.
The Guest now looked at her with leery disdain, and the redhead sighed internally.
"There's nothin' tae worry about," she attempted to placate cheerfully, "I just seem to have picked up a wee bit of chest congestion, what with the cold weather an' all."
"Ah," the woman nodded her head in understanding and continued throwing things down on the counter. Merida resisted groaning and made an attempt at small talk as she worked on the transaction.
Of course, there were bumps, as there always were. The bairn with the strong lungs threw a fit until he could get what he wanted—crayons—then threw another as he ripped free a flashlight from its packaging. The customer paid for both as separate transactions, surely shooting Merida's 'Units Per Purchase' in the foot. But when it finally ended she was blissfully free, with exception of one minor detail.
"Storeroom?" she asked clearly over the walkie-talkie as the lady left Merida's claustrophobic little section, enclosed as it was by a "glass" wall roughly ten feet high.
There was a tad bit of static as it took a moment for the lad to respond, but respond he did with a solid, "aye? Gie's yir craak."1
"Could ye bring a bicycle tae the front fer a guest? I've got the SKU number if yer ready?" a part of her was thrilled as she waited for a response. For there was a reason, well, two really, that the boy had gotten the job of working in the storeroom, otherwise known as the "Back of House." The first being that he could lift near anything—whether it be a Powerwheel or bed frame or crib. He was able to heft anything of size and weight, and to see him come from the rear of their spacious shop, muscles hardly straining, was a sight to see for her athletic appreciation.
The second reason was that he couldn't speak clearly if his life depended on it. Which meant that he was never to be stuck on a register, cashiering and ringing up Guests, no matter how dire things got. Raised in the Lowlands, his native tongue was Doric. So while the lad could understand what was being asked of him, getting a response was a bit like being in the shadow of the tower of Babel.
Merida thought that it was fascinating. She'd picked up a few things over the months that he'd been with them, but she always looked forward to hearing more. Jami, a blonde coworker who always wore long skirts over her hourglass form, thought that she was an odd one, but couldn't fault her for it.
"Gae ahead, Aim ready fer it."
The girl grinned at the handheld communicator, "a'right, it's 617355." There was a pause as he typed it into his handheld electronic Sapphire, a device used to check inventory.
"Ay tirty'n'a ha centimeter Pen'ayleshiss' bike?"
She giggled a little at that example of verbal homicide, "aye, a thirty and a half centimeter Pinkalicious bike. Unassembled, please. The guest is waiting on a bench next tae the front."
"Ai'l be thare in a mynuet."
"Thanks, Matt," she responded cheerily, frustrated mood gone. Until another of her hacking coughs came over her, forcing the girl to her knees with a hand held to her chest. By the time she was done with her bout the young man had already come with the box and the customer had left with her too many children, a relief for all involved. She'd missed the chance at seeing him carry the large package out, too, but that annoyance was swept away by the realization that he had stepped into her area and was now looking at her with concern.
Merida resisted the urge to flush as red as her hair.
"Foo are ye deeing? he asked quietly, blonde eyebrows creasing over a small button nose.2 She's heard the question enough to know what he meant, however, and waved an unconcerned hand at him.
"I'm a'right, Matt. Just…a wee bit sick, is all," she tried to put a little bit of a positive spin on the situation as she smiled bravely at him, hand still on her chest as though forcibly keeping the coughing within, "I'll be right as rain in a day or two. An' besides, I didn't need that second lung anyhow."
He smiled slightly in recognition of her joke, but it didn't make a dent in the worry present within his eyes. He nodded and for a second it seemed like Matthew MacGuffin was about to say something for a moment, his hand clenching and unclenching on the mechanical Sapphire in his hand, but she beat him to it with a conversation changer worthy of a pro.
"So how are things back there in the 'Mattcave?'" she asked with a sideways grin. The boy of course blushed. The appellation had first begun a week or so into his training back there, with Merida inventing the term as a kind of 'welcome to the family' sort of thing. But he'd never really been completely comfortable with it; as though giving the Back of House area a title like that indicated that he had to fit the role of 'Mattman' or something similarly silly. But despite his discomfort, however, she hadn't been able to drop the issue. After all, his bashfulness was absolutely adorable. And a tad bit addicting.
"Nae bad," he finally responded in a light tumble of words, "an' tae electr'nis? It's fit-like?"3
She huffed out a laugh, which dislodged another small cough, "good enough, I suppose. Boring is more loik it."
He smiled as though wishing that his own area was half as uneventful. She knew that the Storeroom Associate was required to complete a certain number of tasks by the end of the day, similar to her own, while also helping bring items from the back to the front of the store. This was called "replenishing," as the computer informed them that the last of something had been sold and the same item, scanned into a specific location or "bay," was ready to be taken out. Bay audits also had to be done, to make sure that what the computer said was in a bay really was physically there.
She altered her response slightly, watching him a specific kind of care, hands behind her back, "well, more loik lonely. It's called the 'Fortress of Solitude' for a reason."
That he could understand.
The two of them exchanged variants of a 'see you later' as the assistant manager rounded the Guest Service kiosk, now in line of sight of Merida's little area, and promised to talk another time. It wasn't long before she was caught up in her assignments for the day, bent in half as she sorted through various mismatched boxes of new product that had to have security measures applied to them. Only then could they be worked out, labeled and displayed for everyone to see.
But she stopped abruptly at the feeling of eyes watching her back. Merida straightened and turned but remained in a kneeling position, her default pleasant expression falling as she realized that it wasn't a Guest behind her, but rather Eoin Macintosh from Guest Service.
Leaning up against the edge of her glass wall, arms crossed, he examined her with curious speculation, eyebrows high even as his lids were low. The lad spoke before she could ask him what he needed.
"You really do loik him, don't ye?"
Whatever response she'd been planning abruptly had the wind ripped from its sails, "w-what? Who are ye talking about?"
His pointed chin jutted in the direction of the back of the store, through the green doors she could just barely see on the edge of her vision, "the new lad. Ye loik him."
She bent back down at her work, shaking her head and hoping that her hair would cover up her expression of panic. And the telltale signs of red creeping up her neck to her cheeks, "I dinnae know what yer talking about. And besides, he's not exactly new anymore."
The shrug he sent towards her strained through his tight red polo, tucked in at the waist to show off his physique to its best advantage. Even the blue marker that had somehow ended up on his arm only served to emphasize the solidness of his bicep, "everyone's new compared to us."
And it was true, in a way. Eoin had been working for the company since he was sixteen, jumping straight into work as he simultaneously balanced school. That meant that the two of them, plus Jami and a couple other workers, were the longest standing members of the Toys 4 U crew. Everyone else came and went as they pleased, making Matt practically a bairn in comparison.
"Aye, but I feel that he'll last for a while. He's not a ninny in the face of hard work."
"True enough," the lanky brunette conceded, "but that doesn'a mean you can dodge the question. Do ye or don't ye loik Matt?"
She dug deeper into her box, wondering if she had enough electronic security tags to place on the items she'd just received, "look, just because ye flirt with anything in a skirt, doesn'a mean I have to," he sniffed at this description, but didn't argue with it.
"…it gets them tae buy more," he muttered unabashedly, "and he's not 'anything,' or 'anyone.' It's just Matt."
She growled slightly underneath her breath, releasing access to another round of coughs. But the girl managed to turn away just in time, so that they ended up again in the crease of her elbow rather than on the merchandise she was working with.
"Eoin, could ye just…go away? I have tae get my work done an' I'm not feeling well an…" she sat back on her haunches, shoving the masses of her hair away in frustration. A clip in the shape of a flower held up one side of it, keeping the curls out of her face, but the rest kept falling forward as she'd broken her last scrunchie recently. Time tae buy some new hair ties, she absently thought to herself, followed by the reminder that she didn't have the money for anything even as simple as that until they got paid again.
"…an it's more complicated than that, Eoin. I'm not e'en his type."
The lad wasn't budging, arms still crossed as he asked blandly, "and what is his type, then?"
She waved a hand up and down in irritation at his insistence, "tall an'…beautiful, with light brown hair. He has a girlfriend, so all we can ever be is mates."4
"That's his sister, Paige," the Guest Service Associate said with some satisfaction as he examined his well-manicured nails. Making her wonder who was watching over his station if he was here, talking to her.
But then his words sunk in and she couldn't help but gape, "w-what? How do ye ken that?"
"Because we're gonna see a film together on Friday," he answered matter-of-factly, "she came through my line buying a present fer their younger brother and in talking tae her, I learned that her brother Matt is sweet on a lass."
"Eoin, that doesn't mean anythi-."
"A ginger-haired lass."
That struck her dumb as she gaped at her longtime friend. But all he did was smile at that food for thought and headed into one of the locked rooms within her sectioned off area for a label-maker. Leaving his words pressing down on her mind as he returned to his place in the front. Looking through the glass that divided them, she noted that a lad from the sales floor, Collin Dingwall by name, had stood serenely in his place. Greeting each new customer with a vague smile and wave. But at Eoin's return he again took up his old occupation of straightening aisles and returning misplaced items to their rightful locations.
For a moment she envied the lad's freedom, a certain restlessness left behind in Macintosh's wake, but determinedly applied it toward her current task at hand. The lass that she'd seen might have been Matt's sister, but it might not've been. And Eoin could have been teasing her for all she knew.
The rest of the day went by swiftly. She finished her projects with alacrity and acted as a second cashier when Eoin's customer line got too long at the Guest Service Desk. The times in which she interacted with Matt were not quite as smooth as they'd always been, with her joking and him responding with naught but a smile. But her blushes caused him to look on her in speculation, and she wondered what he was thinking each time that he left.
Only when the store was closed, the register tills accounted for, and the sales floor clean did they all ready themselves to leave. But a hearty rainstorm had rolled in during the time it took for the sun to go down, and Merida groaned as she remembered that she'd taken the umbrella out of her backpack…and that she'd be riding her bicycle home, as her roommate had the car.
Eoin, Collin and Jami shot her look of a concern as she grumblingly pulled the hood of her teal jacket over her head, scarf thrown around her neck. But they said nothing, and with a sigh she sat down on her already dripping bicycle seat. Until a snap from overhead drew her eyes upward with a start.
"Matt?!" she said with surprise, gazing above her only to see his pale eyes in the darkness. The lad had an arm held out above her, dark blue umbrella in hand, and even with her rusty 'ride' jutting out in either direction he seemed to envelope her with his warmth.
"Dae ye have a heeze, ken?"5
She blinked up at him, "a…heeze?"
He sighed as though accustomed to others asking him for the very same thing, "some'on tae…teik ye home."6
"Oh. Nay," she shrugged as though this was no big deal, but he only sighed in return.
"Git aff the bike, Mer'da."7
She blinked, then frowned, "what?" Looking around, she wondered if any of her coworkers had anything to say about the matter but Jami was already in her vehicle and Eoin was beginning to drive away in his red sports car. Collin had already gone, his father having been waiting for him since they'd closed.
"But, I-."
"Ah kin cast her en the back of me lorry, iffen ye wish."8
"Ye dinnae have tae do that, Matt. I can bike home just fi-."9
Her protests came to an abrupt standstill as he bent over her form, eyebrows creasing together and expression tired, "Merida. Please. Let me dae this fer ye."10
She opened her mouth to say no but what came was, "a'right." But it took her a few seconds worth of blinking before she actually climbed up and off the seat. He didn't hesitate to pick up the bike by its frame, while still holding the oversized umbrella over the both of them, and escorted her to his large white truck across the lot. A half-trailer covered up the back of the truck bed, and it was there that he tucked the little bicycle before motioning her over to the passenger side.
He put his key to the lock and opened the creaking door, waiting for her to climb in. But with the oversized tires and lifted frame she couldn't even reach the hand-hold specifically meant for that purpose. The ginger-haired girl stared up at the contraption, wondering about the futility of even attempting a jump for it, when a huff of breath stirred the back of her hair.
"Fergive me," Matt whispered quietly, and with little warning she felt massive hands circle around her waist in order to boost her up. Lifting the young woman like a child as he put her in the cavernous seat. She didn't protest but a curious little "meep" escaped before she could hold it back. And then the entry was been carefully closed.
A few heavy treads later he'd passed over to the other side of the automobile, climbing up and in with ease. And with a start Merida realized that perhaps this was the only place in which he felt comfortable. Everything else was too short or too thin for him—but Matthew's vehicle was massive, just like he was. And with a minute or two of settling she could see the stress of the day shift off of him, like water off a duck's back.
He asked for directions to her flat but after that they didn't say much. He mostly watched the road, keeping in mind the torrential rain and maintaining a careful speed amid the slick streets. And with nothing else to look at she examined the interior of his car.
It had the appearance of something lived in, was her first impression, as a spoon and toothbrush sitting side by side glinted up at her from the unused ashtray. And while there was a little bit of the trash she'd come to expect in all of her male mates' vehicles, it was limited to what could be thrown into a refitted grocery bag. A medal hung from the rearview mirror, saying something about a youth competition that she wasn't familiar with, and between the two of them sat a small stack of college textbooks; Calculus, English, and the Culinary Arts. The girl blinked at the last of these three and wondered just how much she knew about her fellow associate. Then wondered about how much more she'd like to know about him.
But those were the kind of thoughts that led one down dangerous paths. Merida bit her lip and turned away, gazing at the misty haze their combined breath was creating on the interior of her window, and pondered making a smiley face in the steam. Would he be angry if she did? Or would he even notice?
But that moment's pondering was interrupted with a cough. Which lead to a series of painful, rib-breaking hacks. By the time she was done she didn't think that she had any lungs left over, with her back and her skull aching like someone had used a nutcracker on both. Gasping for breath, a reedy, unhealthy example of its kind, she tried to find any semblance of calm. And it was within that realm of forced focus that she realized that his hand had been on her shoulder, keeping her solidly in place as the rest of her frame shook like an earthquake.
"Thank ye," she murmured, sounding much like an eighty-year old smoker as she expressed her appreciation. She winced at the sound, but he did little more than begin rubbing her back in a circle of smooth gestures.
"Ye're welcome," he responded quietly, head ducked to look at her. And with a start she realized that his other hand was off the wheel. They'd stopped.
"We're haer," he remarked unnecessarily, eyes dodging away along with with his palm, and immediately she missed the feel of his warmth against her shoulder blade.
"Aye…um, thank ye again, Matt."
"Nae probl'm," he murmured, then seemed to hesitate as her fingers gripped the stubborn door handle, "ah, afore ye gae, um…"11
She'd swung the access open by then, raindrops falling on her forearm arm as she waited expectantly for him to continue. Part of the young student was focused on the conversation while yet another part wondered how she was to get down and retrieve her bicycle from the back. But that disappeared quickly as the lad opened his mouth again.
"Ah was wondrin'…iffen mebbe ye might fancy gettin' a bite tae eat?" the hopeful, worried tone in his voice made her look up from her distracted pondering, and Merida hated to admit it but she knew that her expression was as blank and shocked as a snowstorm in May. 12
"But…" she responded slowly, mind not quite computing the request, "everything's closed right now, Matt." He flushed as though she'd just pointed out that his shirt was on backwards. Which of course cut through her own shock.
"Ah mean…some tyme. Nocht noo, a'course, as it's rain'in, but…"he looked away a moment, and in the reflective light of the flat's overhead lamps she could see the dim hue of red coloring his cheeks. The hand that had been on her back went to the far side of his neck, rubbing uneasily underneath the shaggy hair that desperately needed a cut. The blonde finally returned his gaze to her as he bravely bridged the rest of his request, "mebbe anither tyme?" 13
They were hardly a foot away from one another, what with how he'd stretched out his arm initially in comfort. And with a start Merida realized that this was the first time that they'd ever been on equal grounds, without him lording over her in size. Her second realization was that he, Matthew MacGuffin, the man she'd been fancying for more than a few months now, was asking her out on a date.
A date. A real-live date. With a shy gentleman of a man.
Any other response was null and void as the girl began smiling. Revealing a slightly buck-toothed grin as she beamed from cheek to cheek, "I'd love tae."
He opened and closed his eyes as if in slow motion, then swallowed and dropped the awkward hand, "r-really?"
"Yes, really," she reassured before patting his arm, her chin jutting out in motion toward the bed of the truck, "now come and help me get me bike out. And when we get tae the door I can get some paper and write down me number."
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AN: These are based on actual experiences from my life, kind of cobbled together into a general Retail experience. I've worked in the electronics section of a toy store for five years now, and it used to actually be a separate section of the store, cut off by a "glass" wall to discourage theft.
I wrote Merida as being sick because, yes, I'm actually sick with chest congestion right now. It kind of hurts. :| But it's a great experience when it comes to accuracy in writing! :D
The "Fortress of Solitude" is in reference to the original Superman movies and lore. :3 The Mattcave did exist, as well as the Teen Titans Tower, and we have a red emergency phone in my area, which is ironically labeled, "The Batphone," complete with bat symbol.
Jami's a real person. I couldn't exclude her from my work experience—I adore her too much. Macintosh's is also based off of another friend/coworker of mine. Only she's a female flirt, not a male one. XD
Pinkalicious is a children's book that's popular enough to have other accessories made for it. Stuff like a DS game and bikes and a dress-up outfit or two.
The white truck belongs to another coworker of mine, who is tall and looks like a brunette version of Barbie. D: She's the sweetest thing I've ever seen, though, don't get me wrong. But her truck is HUGE, and when she gives me a lift home I can barely climb in… ^^;
Translation Time! :D And due to popular request, I have made an effort to cut back on the use of Scottish phrases when the characters are "in thought," although you will find a few "the lad" and "her flat" (which means apartment, btw) thrown in there. I tried to make much of it self-explanatory and for the parts that aren't…well, here's a translation. :) Enjoy!
1 Gie's yir craak: Tell me your news.
2 Foo are ye deeing?: How are you doing?/How are you?
3 Nae bad. An' tae electr'nis? It's fit-like?: Well/Not Bad. And the electronics? How is it?
4 Mates: friends.
5 Dae ye have a heeze, ken?: Do you have a lift, you know? I'm not sure how to indicate in Scottish/Brittish/Welsh when someone need to take another person home in their car. But I do know that the term "a ride" is a very poor choice of words. And that the real word for "lift" refers to an elevator. And the saying "I'm stuffed," actually means, "I'm pregnant." ^^; So this was a tough one.
6 Some'on tae…teik ye home: Someone to take you home.
7 Git aff the bike, Mer'da: Get off the bike, Merida. When he's speaking quickly he probably drops a vowel or two. Very clumsy of him, I have to say. ;)
8 Ah kin cast her en the back of me lorry, iffen ye wish: I can throw her in the back of my truck, if you wish.
9 Ye dinnae have tae do that, Matt. I can bike home just fine: you don't have to do that, Matt. I can bike home just fine.
10 Merida. Please. Let me dae this fer ye: Merida. Please. Let me do this for you.
11 Nae probl'm. Ah, afore ye gae, um: No problem. Ah, before you go, um.
12 Ah was wondrin'…iffen mebbe ye might fancy gettin' a bite tae eat?: I was wondering…if maybe you might want to get a bite to eat?
13 Ah mean…some tyme. Nocht noo, a'course, as it's rain'in, but… mebbe anither tyme?: I mean…some time. Not now, of course, as it's raining, but…maybe another time?