Welcome to A Scattered Plate! A romance fic where Weiss is a head chef! Expect the characters to fall mostly in line with their RWBY selves. But remember, this IS an AU. And this is the food industry. Food changes people. To those of you who have seen any of Gordon Ramsay's shows or read Anthony Bordain's books, you will have some idea as to why the people in here are the way they are. A lot of the events in this fic are based on my own experience in the food industry.
Anyways, this means lots and lots of explicit language from here on out.
Beta-read by Shinra-ex-SOLDIER!
Word count : 8968
~0~
Weiss Schnee was the head chef of her father's restaurant, Gele Gloxinia, and she hated the restaurant with all her heart. A pretentious, pompous, sickly kitchen. A restaurant with flair and style that eradicated substance and beauty. Nothing about the Gele Gloxinia was about feeding people.
Start with the owner. A mad titan of industry, who used the restaurant as a personal club. He'd entertain business partners and enemies alike, using the restaurant as home turf for personal gain and showing off how well rounded he was. It was 'his' menu, 'his' daughter, and 'his' drive that kept the Gele Gloxinia going.
The menu was designed by Jacques, unfortunately. Expensive ingredients littered the menu like buzzwords in a corporate presentation. They sure looked nice, but in the end they were meaningless. Yet the rich would pay top dollar for words like 'black truffle' and 'aged-saffron'. Aged saffron. Who the fuck aged something that was already dry!? It's just sitting on the shelf, like any other fucking spice! The phrase was completely meaningless!
Weiss had grit her teeth and prepared the menu to the exact specifications of Jacques Schnee. Upon eating the food himself, Jacques spat it out, and told Weiss to fix her fuck up. Weiss made a few minor suggestions, and the next round of tastings satisfied Jacques, declaring his menu a success.
Weiss neglected to mention the special ingredient she'd added to each dish. A hefty wad of spit, to give the plate that extra shine.
The dining area held the greatest stink of pretentious bullshit, in part from it's customers, and in part from the presentation. The tables were set with haikus that were written the day of by Weiss and the GM, set on black plates next to rose gold silverware and white napkins accented red around the fringe.
The chairs were richly ornate, pieces of petrified wood and gold leaf blended together and armrests encrusted with jewels. Because of course resting one's arms on tiny sharp rocks was worth it if those rocks shimmered with lien.
The table clothes were made of polished black leather. The tables were the finest crystal. The champagne flutes were bison horn that wrapped around the stem of the glass. The lights were frosted bubbles that hung from the ceiling in various sizes and heights, looking like a bubble machine was working overtime at all hours.
One half of the restaurant was glass, facing out to take in the Atlesian valleys below the mountain base the Gele Gloxinia called home. The view was spectacular in the morning and quite tasteful in the evening. Weiss thought it was a shame they didn't do breakfast, but eggs and bacon didn't sit well with Jacques. Something too basic about the food, he wouldn't dare serve such dishes in these illustrious walls.
Speaking of, the walls were actually a tasteful white with blue accents, one wall dedicated to the flower the shop was named after, its white bell shape broad and commanding, drawing the eye across the room. Weiss actually enjoyed the flower mural at first, until she noticed the blue speckles were sapphires embedded in the wall.
And the food. The fucking food. Those expensive ingredients had to be put together somehow, and yet the combinations Jacques demanded were impossible. The salad alone was a whopping 23 ingredients, four of which cost more than 30 lien a pound!
Didn't her father understand? If you eat something with more than fourteen flavors in it, it overwhelms the palate. Contrast is lost, there's no impact, no weight. Beautiful ingredients reduced to the deafening buzz of culinary white noise.
What was the fucking message? The restaurant is named after a frozen flower, yet has all the grace and subtlety of a bull in a tea shop. Pretentious, pretentious, fucking pretentious! And Weiss was the one steering this sinking ship to god knows fucking where. There was no soul in Gele Gloxinia, no passion. There couldn't be. The chef was trapped.
If Weiss didn't stay with the Gele, Jacques would ensure she couldn't go anywhere else. No kitchen would hire her if it meant going against the Schnee.
Just a few more years, and maybe her father would let her go. Then she could make food she loved. She could feed people something wonderful. Something beautiful.
Maybe…
~0~
Weiss walked into the kitchen at 1:30pm. She hung up her coat and put her knife bag on the prep table. Weiss sniffed, eyeing the table. The closing crew had left a few drops of soup dry overnight. Weiss pinched her nose and sighed. She'd have words with the closing crew, of course, but Weiss went through staff so quickly she couldn't find the heart to blame them. Father fired staff on a whim, and training new staff every month sucked the quality from food like shit through a straw.
Yelling at them wasn't going to fix the problem right away either. Weiss smirked. That's why she had Neptune. The charismatic sous chef every head chef needs. He could charm an inmate out of their straight-jacket. He could woo the habit off a nun. He could fuck the life back into a corpse. He'll inspire the crew, no doubt about it, and Weiss would rest easier not having to handle it herself.
Weiss set about opening. The ovens, range, flat tops, fryers, heat lamps and hot wells were all switched on. Weiss grabbed six buckets and filled them with sanitized water, placing them along the line. Weiss inspected each element of the kitchen as she moved through it, checking Meat, Fish, Saute, and Garde Manger stations for general cleanliness from the closing crew.
Satisfied with her night crew's work, at least with the stations, Weiss turned to inventory. People ate almost all the creamed caviar they had in stock, so she needed a rush order before the friday night slam. Weiss tapped her pen to the clipboard and set to work.
Three minutes into writing the order, Weiss felt something. . . Strange. She stepped out of the walk-in and looked around. She was alone in Gele Gloxinia. Her employees weren't due until 2 pm. All of them, except her sous chef, Neptune. He was due in at the same time as her.
Weiss reached for her scroll and dialed. A few rings, then - "Weiss?" Asked Neptune.
Weiss turned red with rage. "Neptune! Where the fuck are you?! We've got a kitchen to open and you're-" Weiss checked the clock. "Eight minutes late! Get out of bed and get down here before I stick my hand up your ass, grab your tongue, and pull your ends together like a fucking accordion!"
For a moment, there was silence. "I got fired, Chef." Neptune replied. "I thought you knew. . ."
Weiss was stunned. "Fired? I didn't fire you, I-" It snapped into place. "Father. Shit." Weiss sighed. "Neptune, I am so sorry I yelled."
Neptune sighed. "Thanks. Won't fix this hangover, but thanks anyway." Neptune paused. "Jacques said he wouldn't have someone as low as me running his restaurant. Wasn't I qualified?"
Weiss' shoulder's fell. She leaned against the wall. "You are qualified Neptune. Father has no place choosing who I hire. He hires shit. I hire the best." Weiss said, smiling. Inwardly, her gears were turning. Why would father fire Neptune?
Neptune chuckled. "Does that mean I can count on you for a good reference?"
Weiss nodded. "Of course Neptune. You were the best sous chef I've had. Wherever you go, they'll be lucky to have you. I'll make sure they know it." And she will sorely miss him.
Neptune sighed with relief, a weight lifted from his shoulders. "Fuck yeah, thank you Chef. I've got to update my resume. There's a few kitchens I've been itching to try out. . ." Neptune pursed his lips. "Weiss," Neptune started, dropping her title. "You've got to get out of there. You're a cook, a real cook. Your talent is wasted in that kitchen."
Weiss swallowed. Her vision started to blur. "I need to call father. Text me later, we'll go out for drinks, okay Neptune?"
Neptune drew a breath, as if he was going to press his point. ". . . Okay Weiss. Drinks. On you." He said, smiling.
Weiss smiled. "On me." She promised. "Goodbye Neptune." Weiss hung up. She bumped her head against the wall, sighing. Neptune was a true leader in this kitchen. His skills and standards were at their peak, and he exuded a charm and likability that Weiss couldn't hope to match. He kept the atmosphere light, and the crew liked working for him.
Neptune would be missed.
Weiss scowled. Her fingers flew on her scroll. The ringer buzzed. Once. Twice. Thr-
"Yes, what is it?" Answered Jacques Schnee.
"You fired Neptune." Weiss said, venom cutting through her teeth.
Jacques chuckled. "Of course I did Weiss. Your 'friend' associates with. . . A deplorable class of people." Jacques said, his voice reeking of smug.
Weiss' brow twitched. "What. Do you mean?" She asked.
Jacques clicked his tongue. "Really now Weiss. I cannot have my sous chef associating with animals in their off hours." Jacques tsked. "He'd track in their fleas."
Weiss pulled her scroll from her ear. Her father crippled her operation and fired her best friend, because Neptune dared make friends with faunus? Weiss wanted to reach through the receiver and pull Jacques head through, just so she could stick his head into the fryer. Maybe she'd bread him with the burnt husks of food in the foil catchers under the range. Let him taste ash in his mouth while he fucking screamed.
Weiss took a long, deep breath. She brought her scroll to her ear. She wouldn't lose it. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "Father, Neptune was my best sous chef. Without him, my job just got ten times harder. The crew liked him father. This will not smooth over easily." Weiss bit through clenched teeth.
Jacques tutted. "If the crew is unhappy, they will learn, or they will leave." Jacques chuckled. Weiss almost threw her scroll across the kitchen. "And to help smooth things over, I have hired a new sous for you. They should be arriving right at two, if they're punctual." Jacques continued.
Weiss lost it, her fist slamming into the wall. "What!? You hired a new sous without talking to me first!?" Weiss demanded, her voice raised.
Jacques yawned. "Of course Weiss. It is my restaurant after all." Jacques smiled, his face twisting cruelly. "You'll love them, it's their first position as sous. They come highly recommended."
Weiss stomped her foot. "What the fuck do you mean it's-"
"Language, Weiss." Jacques snapped, his voice frigid. "You'll speak to your father with the reverence I deserve."
Weiss took in a shuddering breath. Keep it together. "Have you hired someone incredibly inexperienced as my new sous?" Weiss asked.
Jacques chuckled, his tone bouncing back as quickly as it dropped. "No, she's got three years experience. I'm sure she'll suit your needs quite fine." Jacques sighed. "Is there anything else? I'm a busy man, I can't handle everything over there you know. Otherwise, what am I paying you for?"
"Yes sir." Weiss said, each syllable choked out. "I eagerly await the new sous." The words came out of her throat like bile. Her hand touched the lump in her pocket. Fuck she wanted a cigarette.
"Good." Jacques hung up.
Weiss stared at her scroll. Three years? Weiss loses Neptune to some punk with three years under her belt? That's nothing, that's barely line trained! Weiss pinched her nose. She needed to train the new sous, walk her through the plating, brush her up on inventory and portions, make sure the brat can read a recipe correctly, watch her knife, mise, and line technique, see if she's got the moves, if she's clean and precise with her area, clothes, grooming-
Tears welled up in Weiss eyes. She brushed them away with her thumb and forefinger. She couldn't break down now. Sixteen minutes until her crew arrived, another hour after that until open, and these fucking people won't feed themselves.
Weiss took in a deep breath, and screamed. She punched the wall. "Stupid, fucking, stupid, fuck!" Weiss yelled, punctuating each word with another blow to the wall. She gave it one final punch, her breath ragged. Her knuckles were already bruising yellow. Weiss stood. She took a shaky breath, and released.
"Uh, hello?" A strange new voice piped up behind Weiss. Weiss whirled. A girl, slightly taller than Weiss, stood behind her. She was dressed in white chef's hat and coat, adorned with red sharpie, red thermometer, and a red tasting spoon. Weiss looked down. The newcomer had proper shoes, also red in color. Black, slightly baggy pants, and a red knife bag. Weiss' eyes shot to the newcomer's. She was clean. She was groomed.
She had silver eyes.
The newcomer jolted, her arm swinging up, dropping her knife bag on the ground. "R-Ruby Rose, chef! Reporting for duty!"
Weiss' eyes narrowed. So this was the brat her father hired. Perfect. Just perfect.
~0~
Ruby Rose stared down the drive that led to the Gele Gloxinia. She smiled wide. After training under the harshest chef in Patch and getting her feet wet for three straight years, she was here. Fine dining at Atlas' most upscale restaurant run by one of it's most hardcore chefs in the country. Weiss Schnee.
Ruby was quaking in her boots.
The opportunity was staggering. The most exclusive, expensive ingredients. A chance to practice her finest knife skills! They even had a sommelier! Ruby felt her mouth water at the thought. All the wines she would have to taste, she'd be paid to taste!
Ruby smoothed her chef's coat and adjusted her cap. She tucked her knife bag under her arm and took one deep, shuddering breath. No matter what happens, she'll see this through. Ruby smiled. If something happens? Ha! She's Ruby Rose, line cook extraordinaire! She lives and breathes the heat of the flat, the smack of spatulas, she even bears her own battle scars! Atlesian fine dining would be a walk in the park by comparison.
If anything, chef Schnee will be the one to fear her mighty power. Muahahahah!
Her spirit steeled, Ruby marched right to the back door of Gele Gloxinia. She opened the door with gusto and stepped in. The ovens were on, the flat was hot, heat lamps warming the pass.
Ruby smiled wide. The kitchen was gleaming! Every surface untarnished by food or grease. The flat tops silver, the grill brushed and free of ash. Ruby gaped at the equipment. There wasn't even a layer of grease on the fryer! She'd never seen a fryer so clean! Never seen a kitchen so clean! Ruby sighed, content. This place was going to be amaz-
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" A voice yelled at the end of the line. Ruby ducked instinctively. "Stupid, fucking, stupid, fuck!" Ruby heard the voice yell. Ruby went down the line and found the source.
A small woman, with a large, tight bun of hair tied just off center her head. Ruby gulped. This was Weiss Schnee, no doubt about it. Chef Schnee took in a calming breath. Ruby took one herself. "Uh, hello?" Ruby greeted.
The chef whirled, and Ruby lost her breath. Chef was professional to the tee. Her uniform, equipped with large tweezers, thermometer, and tasting spoon, was pressed and laundered to an almost ridiculous level. Her face held petite features. A sharp nose and even sharper mouth. Ruby felt her face heating up. This was a real chef! Precise, poised, beautiful. . . Ruby glanced down. Chef's knuckles were bruising yellow. Did she hit the wall?
Ruby met Chef's eyes. A frozen tundra of blue, flitting up and down Ruby's frame, taking her in. Ruby jolted. She raised her arm in salute. "R-Ruby Rose, chef! Reporting for duty!" As she saluted, her knife bag dropped to the ground with a thud.
Chef stood straight. She looked at the knife bag on the ground. Chef's eyes met Ruby's. "So you're the new hire." Chef bit out, her tone caustic.
Ruby nodded. "Yes chef. I'm your new sous."
Chef glanced to the far right wall. "You're fifteen minutes early." She said. Her head swiveled back to Ruby, who was smiling with pride. "If you're hoping that'll impress me, it won't. I expect my sous in thirty minutes before their shift starts." Ruby flinched, her smile waning. Chef, crossing her arms, continued. "I'm told this is your first position as sous. Correct?"
Ruby nodded her head. " Yes Chef."
Chef pinched her nose. "I see." Chef sighed. "Have you ever taken an order? Inventory? Expedited?" Ruby shook her head at each of these tasks. Chef sighed again. "Have you ever trained someone?"
Ruby nodded enthusiastically. "Every job I left I trained all new staff on each station."
At this, Chef's brow shot up. "Every station? You learned each station in your respective restaurants?" Chef asked.
Ruby nodded. "Yup!" She tapped her cheek. "Except Expo. Apparently I can get off task easy when I'm given room to talk. This one time I was helping a server stack some plates on her arms, and she got a bit of jelly right on her blouse, so I cleaned it off with a rag and then I asked her name, it was her first day, and we started talking about puppies. She, her name was Blanca, by the way, had some kind of black german shepherd, and I've got this little furball named Zwei, he's crazy, he's been shipped across Remnant four times by box, each time by accident, though I think he likes it, and-"
Chef held a hand out. "I get the picture." Chef said, looking as if she'd gone through a wind tunnel. Chef pinched her nose and sighed.
Ruby's shoulder sagged. Did she blow it? Maybe, can you get fired for ranting just once? Ruby's never been fired before, so it would technically be a new experience. Just one she would rather not know right this moment.
Chef ran her hand over her tightly bound bun. "Just. . . Stay out of the way today. You're. . ." Chef looked around. Her eyes lit up. "You're dishwashing with Sun Wukong today. Got it?"
Ruby's heart sank. Dishwashing? That was practically the same everywhere you went! But. . . If that's what Chef needs- "Okie dokie!" Ruby answered, pushing up the sleeves of her chef's coat. She knelt down and grabbed her knife bag, keeping eye contact with Chef the entire time. She stood. "I'll do my best!"
"Good." Chef said simply. "Head to the back that way." Chef pointed to the side opposite where Ruby entered. "You'll find the chemicals in a closet back there. Next to all the coat hooks and cubbies. Sun will be in to train you shortly." Chef turned around and stomped off.
Ruby nodded. She put on her best smile. "Aye aye captain!" Ruby saluted. As soon as Chef went around the corner, Ruby deflated. That could've gone better. But she wasn't fired, and she wasn't stabbed. Two points for Rose.
Ruby moved towards the dish pit, glancing at a prep table out the corner of her eye. She stopped. There, on the table, were a few drops of dried red something on the otherwise gleaming surface.
Ruby frowned. She knelt down and grabbed a wet towel from the sanny bucket. She twisted the warm water out and wiped down the table. After a few moments, the mess was gone, the sanny dry, and the table gleaming.
Ruby nodded to herself. It's what her mom always said - It's not what you get, it's what you do with it. Or, that's what she used to say.
Ruby tossed the towel back into the bucket and went to the dish pit. She had work to do.
~0~
The crew's morale was shot the moment they heard the news. Weiss offered her words of inspiration, but nothing landed. She didn't have that natural rapport with people like Neptune did. She only had her standards, her principals, and her pride. It could hold a crew together, but Weiss knew it was fuck all for sustainable. Her headache was getting worse.
Weiss shoved Neptune to the back of her head. Chop chop, there was shit to do. Weiss set her crew to work opening the house. She grabbed her prep cooks and told them which projects to do, and in what order. One of them picked at his ear while Weiss was speaking. She immediately grabbed his ear and pulled his tall frame down to her level. After asking Perry if he wanted his balls garnished with his ear wax, Weiss ordered him and his fellow prep cook to their stations.
Weiss then finished the order. She sighed with content, the familiar clipboard in her hand. This was the best part of the job. It didn't involve people. Just food, it's quantity, quality, and what she needed to order to keep the restaurant going. It was her opportunity to take stock of the restaurant's walk-ins and dry storage. Her eyes raked over bright red tomatoes and sacks of potatoes, checking for signs of spoilage, pests, and general cleanliness.
The spice shelf was dusty, and she made a mental note to have it cleaned. The walk-in shelves were getting grimy around the base. Another deep clean. She'd break out the pressure washer and hose down the shelves. Weiss frowned. The dates were correct, but someone was not writing down the time the food was stored, and the health department would knock points for that. She missed the time they could label with just the month and the day, but if standards rose, she rose with them. As did her crew.
She finished writing out her order. She frowned. She was going through chicken fast this week. Better add another case. That'd bring the order to: two cases of cherry tomatoes, two cases of whole chickens, three pounds of creamed caviar, a pound of fresh rosemary, eight ounces of fresh sage, one ounce of saffron, fifty pounds of AP flour, a twenty pound bag of panko bits, and 100 pounds of onions. Among many, many other things, but those were the priority.
Weiss called the order in. After the serenity of getting the order together, calling it in was a dull affair. Consisting only of reading off her list into an empty voicemail her food agent would listen to hours later. Lucky she practiced singing all those years, she could account for the husk in her voice and e-nun-ci-ate. Why didn't they have a fucking online ordering system yet?
Weiss hung up the phone and looked down the line. Her crew was working at steady pace, stocking the low boys with delis of prepped food. Weiss frowned. Dusk, the Saute cook, was flirting a bit too much with one of the servers. Weiss walked the line and smacked Dusk on the back of the head. "Flirt on your own time." She said, shooting the server a withering look. After that, Dusk was focused on his station and less on his burgeoning erection. Good.
The morning passed.
Weiss scrunched her eyes, her headache growing colossal. Now two hours into service, and the prep cooks were moving slower than usual today. They were behind on four different priority projects. The onions needed fabrication, the lettuce cleaned, the consomme clarified, and Weiss needed a smoke. But she had to finish these onions. She doubted Perry knew what brunoise meant, much less how to dice an onion so fine. Weiss hardly had the time or patience to teach the fool, so she took it upon herself.
Sun Wukong, her best dishwasher and now most senior employee, sidled up next to Weiss. "Heya Chef, got any projects for me?"
Weiss slammed her knife on the counter. What was he doing up here!? "I thought it was obvious Sun! Watch the brat!" Weiss hissed.
Sun shrugged. "I would Chef, but she doesn't need watching. In fact, if you brought her in to replace me, I couldn't be mad." Sun smiled, jerking his thumb to the back of house. "You might want to check her out yourself." He smirked.
Weiss blinked. "What?" She stepped away from the prep table and darted to the dish pit. What did Sun mean the brat could replace him? Sun was the best dishwasher Weiss ever met! There's no way in hell a twenty-something brat could show up Sun Wukong-
Weiss stopped. They were two hours into service, and everything around the pit shined clean. The grease build up on the table legs was gone. The dishwashing machine was de-grimed and spotless. Weiss blinked. Was the vent above the dishwasher cleaned too?
Weiss' eyes locked onto the brat. In all her career she'd never seen anyone move that fast. The brat was like a machine, churning dishes out at an incredible pace. Weiss noted her pile. At this point in service, Sun would have a respectable pile. Some soaking pots and pans, a few dirty trays, a full cambro of silverware and ramekins, at least two racks of glasses and a whole mess of plates.
This. . . Kid, had almost nothing in her backlog. Weiss watched as the newcomer flew through a stack of six-pans, bracing them against the lip of the dish pit so her scrubbie could get the maximum amount of force applied with the minimum amount of work. She flipped the pan for each side, sprayed it, checked it for foodstuff, and popped it onto the rack. Rinse and repeat.
Sun leaned in. "She's fucking fast." Sun whispered. "And she's gotten everywhere." Sun pointed to the vent above the dishwasher. "When I walked in, she was pulling greasy hairballs from the fucking vent. I didn't even know you could clean up there."
Weiss scoffed. "It's her first day. There's no way she can keep this up." Weiss turned to Sun. "Watch her like a hawk Sun. Because it's not just about first impressions. It's longevity. Father hired her, so there's something fucked here, and I want you to find it." Weiss ordered.
Sun rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay Chef. But, what if I don't find anything?" He asked. "What if she's actually that good?"
Weiss rolled her eyes. "I don't believe someone that talented or that skilled comes so young or hired by my father." Weiss twisted on her heel. "Get your eyes checked, then keep your eyes on her." She spat. She turned to leave, then stopped. "Sun." She whispered.
Sun perked up. "Yes Chef?" He asked, stepping close to hear Weiss.
Weiss took a breath. "Neptune was fired because father found him associating with faunus. I know I haven't had to say anything." Weiss glanced at Sun's waist. "But be careful. I lost my best sous. I will not lose you too."
Sun saluted. "Gotcha Chef. I'll keep it in my pants." He said, smirking.
Weiss allowed a brief smile to touch her lips. She turned on her heel, leaving Sun and Ruby in the pit.
Every day it was something. Someone got too drunk the night before. Someone got arrested. A fire started from a poorly cleaned flat-top. Someone broke their hand fucking with the stand mixer. Someone choked on a snack. Someone spilled an entire batch of soup.
Weiss was not going to entertain the possibility of that someone being that snot-nosed, inexperienced brat in her fucking dish pit. Her sous chef was gone. His replacement was not going to fuck up her day any more than it could be. Let the baby sit in the back.
Weiss had work to do.
~0~
Weiss leaned against the dumpster, hidden from the back entrance of Gele Gloxinia. The rest of the crew had just gone home, leaving Sun to finish the close with the brat. Weiss had finished out tonight's close instead of leaving early, which she used to do before today. . .
Now that everyone had gone home, this was her first chance to relax. Weiss placed a cigarette in her lips. Her white lighter snapped to life. She took a deep breath, her cigarette drawing loose lines of smoke into the night sky.
Service wasn't terrible. Today could've gone much worse, considering the unexpected loss of line kept up their own morale well enough. A few shared their memories of their sous. That one time he served a chicken sandwich to Night, topped with a hidden banana. Someone did an impression of Night spewing his sandwich all over the prep table, and the line had howled with laughter, even as the tickets poured in.
Weiss let her breath out, the cloud of smoke billowing in the cold night. She watched it lazily drift through the light overhead. Weiss sighed. The smoke tasted bitter on her tongue. Like kale and battery acid. She felt it helped her express herself, give the bitterness in her an outlet. Weiss twisted the cigarette in her fingers. She scoffed. What a romantic view on such a disgusting habit.
Weiss took another drag.
As she enjoyed her cigarette, Weiss heard Sun talking inside. Loud and animated, his voice was joined with the brat's. They were. . . Laughing? Their voices were getting louder. Were they done with close? Weiss checked her watch. Dish usually took thirty minutes to close properly after the rest of the crew went home. It had only been five minutes since the line clocked out.
Weiss heard back door banged open. "Okay, okay, hold up." Sun said. Weiss could hear the smile in his voice. What the hell was he smiling about? "So your sister took out an entire bar, by herself?"
The brat answered in that soft, annoying voice of hers. "Yup! The owner was hitting on her girlfriend, and she's real protective. She said 'hey buddy, back off,' and the owner was all 'make me,' and then Yang, she's a pro boxer by the way, just punched him in the nose!"
Sun and the brat walked past Weiss. Weiss shifted over, putting more of the dumpster between her and her two employees. She leaned out to look at them. They didn't spot her, so Weiss got a look at the brat. She was animated, gesturing and moving to the tune of her story. She slipped in and out of different voices, breathing life into her story. How did she still have energy after today? Weiss huffed. Newbies. She'll burn out in the week, no doubt.
The brat continued her story, miming a punch to Sun's jaw." Wham! And that's the owner, right? So the bartender hops the bar, saying 'okay, that's it, you're outta here,' and Yang's all 'I got no quarrel with you, just pour my drinks,' and he grabs her, right? Now, she wrestles out of his grip, so guess what he does next?" She said, a huge smile on her face.
Sun shook his head, a huge grin on his face. "What? What did he do?" He asked, captivated. He fished in his pack for a cigarette.
Her voice got real low. "He grabbed her hair, Sun. And my sister, my sister loves her hair." She gestured to her waist. "It's down to here, brilliant gold, and she washes and brushes it like it was the love of her life." She rubbed her hands together. "What do you think happens when you grab the most prized possession a professional, drunk, 200 pound boxing champion has?"
Sun's eyes widened. "Oh, shit." He said, a cigarette hanging from his lips.
The brat nodded. "That's right. Way her girlfriend, her name's Blake by the way, tells me, she was going to try and stop the fight. But then the guy grabbed Yang's hair. So Blake just grabbed her drink and waited." Ruby shook her head. "Yang doesn't remember the rest of the fight, so Blake filled me in. Yang tossed the bartender onto the bar and slammed a barstool into his gut. She just knocked the wind out of him. Then the rest of the bar stands up. 'Cause this chick just knocked out the guy serving the drinks. So Yang has to take out like twelve guys."
She held her arms out wide. "It. Was. A. Massacre. Tables flipped over, broken bottles, and one guy got thrown through a window! And Blake just sat there, watching Yang take out guy after guy after guy! Blake said the aftermath looked like a bullfight if the bull was let loose into the crowd instead of the ring!"
Weiss scowled. If this 'Yang' character was this brat's sister, there's no telling what kind of damage her new hire was hiding under this cheerful facade.
Sun lit his cigarette. "Wow." He said with awe.
The brat held her hand up to the sky. "But it's not over! Oh no! After Yang took out every challenger in the bar, she hops on the bar stool and slams her fist right next to the bartender. And Yang," She started laughing despite herself. Weiss' eye ticked at the sound. "Yang says 'gimme a shot,' and the bartender, heheh, the bartender rolls off the bar, grabs a bottle from below, and puts on the bar for her!"
Sun shook his head, chuckling. "Holy shit." He said, breathing out smoke. "So did she get thrown in the tank for a night?"
The brat smiled, shaking her shoulders side to side, her hands clasped behind her back. "Weeeelll, Blake maaay be a detective working in Organized crime at MPD. So Yang can get away with a bit more than most." She clapped her hands together. "Besides, bar fights aren't exactly uncommon in Mistral."
Sun laughed. "I've heard about that." He slapped the girl on the back. "I like the sound of your sister. Think I'll get to meet her?" He asked.
The brat shrugged. "We'll see. She likes eating where I work, but. . ."
Sun nodded, his face growing serious."Yeah. It's not your fault, you know." Sun took a drag. "Chef Weiss has a lot on her shoulders. And she misses our sous chef. He helped her out, evened out her temper." Sun sighed.
The brat cocked her head. "Why did he get fired?" She asked.
Sun scoffed. "The owner is a fucking racist, and saw Neptune hanging out with his faunus friends." Sun shook his head.
The brat's shoulders fell. Weiss couldn't see her expression. "Oh. Sun, I'm sorry. That's. . . That's not fair."
Sun shrugged. "No, it's not." He said. He flicked his cigarette in annoyance. "And Neptune was good. He had this energy about him, kept everyone happy during the worst of times." Sun reached out and rubbed the brat's hair. "Though, I think you've got that same spark too, kid. You sure as hell made my day enjoyable."
Weiss scowled. Fucking traitor! She almost stomped over to Sun to whirl him around and give him a piece of her mind, but-
"Thanks." The brat whispered. "I want to be the best cook I can be." The brat shifted from foot to foot. "I saw Chef today, and she was. . ."
"An angry bitch?" Sun offered. Weiss' eye twitched. If she moved quickly, no one would find the bodies.
"Well, yes." The brat admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "But also inspiring." Weiss blinked. Was that a trace of awe in the brat's voice? "She's so determined to do a good job. I can see why she wouldn't want me around. I'm pretty new to this whole cooking thing. I guess she sees me as a pain. Or a baby."
Sun nodded. He turned his head, looking straight at Weiss. "Yeah, she does." He said simply.
Weiss froze up. The bastard knew she was here? This whole time!?
The brat continued. "I won't be though. I know I can do this." She stomped her foot, fists balled at her waist. "I'm a great cook, and I'm going to prove it! I'll be the best sous for Chef, the best she's ever had. No matter what it takes!" She clapped her hands together. "She may hate me, but I'm not giving up my dream, or letting her down!"
Sun, still staring Weiss in the eye, smiled. "I believe in you Ruby." He broke his gaze, looking at Ruby. "And I know she'll believe in you too." He put his hand on Ruby's shoulder, leading her away from Weiss. "Come on kiddo, I need some sleep, which means you do too."
Ruby stuck her tongue out. "I'm no kiddo! I drink milk!" She said with pride. "Usually in Mistrali Trainwrecks." She said, giggling.
Sun guffawed. "Alright, alright." He held his hands up. "You've got me there." He said. He scratched his chin. "How do you make a Mistrali Trainwreck?" Sun asked.
Ruby snapped her fingers. "It's easy. Start with a looooooot of vodka, then. . ."
The pair walked away, their voices fading off in the distance. Weiss pinched her nose. This kid. . . No, Ruby. She was so earnest. She genuinely wanted to help. Even with Weiss treating her as she did. On Ruby's first day. What sort of person just lets that go?
Weiss' scroll buzzed. She tossed her cigarette butt into the dumpster, and pulled her scroll out.
Hey, I'm at the bar. Where's my drink?
Weiss smiled. She typed back. On its way.
~0~
Weiss walked into the Carousing Cane, shedding her coat and hanging it on a stand near the door. She scanned the bar. She saw a few regulars. Hazel in the corner nursing a scotch. Neo scamming a few tourists at the pool table. Jaune rubbing down glasses. Her eyes drifted over the cane hanging above the bar, the one that inspired the name.
Then, her eyes caught the tell-tale sign of blue hair. Neptune, waving at her with a dopey grin on his face, two empty shot glasses in front of him, and two more full ones on the bar. The shots waited with an empty stool next to Neptune. Weiss smirked. Bastard started without her.
Weiss walked over. "You're early." She said, smiling.
Neptune shrugged. "If I'm not thirty minutes early, what kind of cook am I?" He said, echoing an early memory they shared.
Weiss chuckled. She sat down and took both shots one after the other, slamming the glasses onto the bar. She coughed in surprise. This drink was strong, sweet, and very smooth. "Holy shit, what are we drinking?" She asked.
Neptune grinned. "Don't cough it back up. That's top shelf Valian mead."
Weiss punched him in the shoulder. "You're making me buy you the most expensive mead on the market?!" She demanded.
Neptune took the punch. "Well, you would've bought it for me anyways." He pointed out. "My way saves a whole lot of groveling." He said.
Weiss crossed her arms. "Your groveling is my payment." She grumbled.
Neptune shot her a shit-eating grin. "Aw, cheer up Weiss. I'll come in tomorrow and ask for my old job back, would that make you feel better?"
Weiss caught the eye of the bartender, and acknowledge him with a wave. "No. Help me burn the place down and then we can talk." Weiss quipped. She frowned. "You know why you were fired?" She asked.
Neptune nodded. "Sun texted me." He sighed. "I knew he was racist, but he fucking fired me? For having faunus friends? What kind of sick fuck does that?" Weiss nodded in agreement. Neptune shook his head, disappointment all over his face. Then he raised his empty glass. "Good riddance though. I knew your father was a piece of shit. Now that he's proved it, I'd fuck a dumpster bareback just to never see his face again." Neptune said, smirking.
Weiss laughed. "Any news on the job search?" She asked.
Neptune shrugged. "First day, no responses. Nothing to worry over. I applied at a steakhouse. Serves Boarbatusk steaks and has excellent wine." Neptune patted his belly. "I hope I get hired there."
Weiss nodded. "I'll give you a great reference if they call." She said earnestly.
"Thanks, Weiss." Neptune clapped his hand on Weiss' back. "Tell me about your day Chef. I want to hear all about it. Did the line weep for me?" Neptune asked, eyes wide, lips pouting.
Weiss rolled her eyes. "You wish. They were cheering your absence. They took ticket paper and wrote your old jokes on it, then burned them to cleanse the back of house."
Neptune grinned. "They didn't mention that in the group text." He said.
Weiss bristled. "There's a group text?" She asked, indignant.
"Evening chefs." Ozpin the bartender interjected, walking up to the pair. "I heard everything is on your tab tonight Weiss?"
Weiss, distracted from her exclusion from texting, nodded. "You heard correctly. Ozpin, may we have two more pours of that Valian mead for Neptune? And I'll have that Crooked Gin with mulled blueberry please." She asked.
Ozpin bowed his head. "Of course. One moment please." Ozpin turned to the shelf and brought down the Valian Mead. A tall, amber bottle with a bright yellow honeybee on the brown label. He popped the cork and poured Neptune's two shots.
Weiss sniffed. "What's the proof on that mead Oz?" She asked.
Ozpin corked the bottle. "One-hundred proof." He admired the bottle, smiling. "It really is a miracle. Most meads are capable of just thirty or forty proof, but this-" He tapped the bottle, "Has a secret process. Something to do with how they age it. It gets thickly sweet, and the proof rises." Ozpin put the bottle back on the shelf. "It is truly a drink for celebration and merriment."
Neptune raised his glass. "To the death of my job! And new beginnings!" He yelled, slamming his first shot.
Weiss rolled her eyes. "Thank you Ozpin." She turned back to Neptune. "Why am I not in the group text?" She pressed, a hint of bitterness bubbling forth.
Neptune shook his head. "Weiss, Weiss, is anyone back there brave enough to ask you for your number?" He asked.
Weiss bit her cheek. "No. . ." She admitted. She thanked Ozpin with a nod as he slid her glass of gin to her. She swirled it, watching the cloudy mix of alcohol and mulled blueberry swirl in her glass.
Neptune smiled. "There you have it." Neptune leaned back from the bar. "I heard they were recounting my many pranks to keep spirits up."
Weiss nodded. "They were. . . Quite emphatic." To put it mildly. They almost fucked up half the orders, they were laughing so hard. Weiss frowned. "Speaking of," Weiss looked around. "Why aren't we having drinks with the crew?" She asked. Weiss hated being social, but this was Neptune. He thrived on an audience. Wouldn't he want the whole house here?
Neptune waved his hand. "Already scheduled for tomorrow. Since the restaurant isn't open, everyone can make it with high energy, and you get tonight, just chef and sous chef." Neptune tapped his shot glass against the bar. "I know you hate crowds."
Weiss relaxed. "Good. They really missed you today. And I didn't help any at all." Weiss rubbed her forehead. "It wasn't balanced in there Neptune. You undercut my serious attitude with levity." Weiss cupped her eyes with her hands. "Oh fuuuck. Today Perry picked his ear while I was outlining prep." Weiss ran her fingers through her loose hair. "I asked him if he wanted me to garnish his balls with earwax." She admitted.
Neptune grinned. "That's fucking hilarious Weiss."
Weiss shook her head. "Noooo, it wasn't. I was so angry, Nep." The drinks were warming her belly, and her tongue. Her mind went buzzy. "I think his balls ascended so fast they went back into his mom." She whispered.
Neptune guffawed. "It'll be an improvement if they did!" Neptune crowed. "He's one of the cockiest fucks I've ever met. Picking his ear in front of the head chef? What an asshole!" Neptune took his other shot in hand. "I'll be sure to rib him tomorrow."
"You do that, Neptune." Weiss said. She took her first sip of her drink. The bits of blueberry stuck in her teeth, but Weiss didn't mind. Better fresh berry than some bullshit syrup.
The syrup never got the smell right. Alcohol was a volatile substance, it constantly evaporated. Combine that with the fresh flavor of blueberry, and the pair became something greater than the sum of its parts. It's why one adds wine to a tomato sauce at the end of cooking. It made it better. Aromatic. And so worth the bits of berry in her teeth.
Neptune stuck his finger into his shot glass, twirling it on the bartop. "So. . ." He began.
Weiss' brow rose up. "So what?" She asked.
Neptune shrugged. "How's the new sous?" He asked.
Weiss pressed the heel of her wrist against her forehead. "Right now she's my new dishwasher." She said bluntly.
Neptune nodded. "So I've heard." He admitted.
Weiss pursed her lips. "Sun." She hissed through clenched teeth. "Traitorous bastard. Did he tell you he enjoyed his time with her?"
Neptune flicked his finger. The shot glass rolled in an arc, coming back to his hand. Neptune shrugged. "Sure. He also told me she was the fastest dishwasher he'd ever seen." Neptune brought his eyes to meet Weiss'. "I heard him say, from his own mouth, that she was better than him."
Weiss waved Neptune off. "Total bullshit. Maybe she's got speed, but can she keep it up?" Weiss asked. "No. She's green, three years experience. You know that's barely line trained." Weiss scoffed. "She had the balls to tell me she trained her coworkers on her stations before leaving. As if."
Neptune shrugged. "Sun's got six years, and she showed him up." Neptune held up his glass, watching the light play off the rim. "Way I see it Weiss, you've got an opportunity."
Weiss sipped her gin. "What do you mean?"
Neptune set his glass down. "I mean you have a talented employee, who sounds like she wants to work for you. Learn from you." Neptune leveled his gaze. "And you're going to waste that opportunity Weiss. If you only see her as someone your father hired to fuck with you, then she will never be someone who can actually help you." Neptune put his hands on his neck and leaned back. "And since you're losing me, you're gonna need all the help you can get."
Weiss frowned. She stared at the cloudy blue gin in her hand. "I don't think she's up to it." Weiss said softly.
Neptune gently punched Weiss in the shoulder. "Have you given her the chance to show you?" Neptune asked.
Weiss scowled. Oum she hated her friend as much as she loved him. She lifted her glass to her mouth. "No." She admitted. She tanked the rest of the gin and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Neptune laid his hand on Weiss' shoulder. "Try this on for size Weiss. The Gele is closed tomorrow, right? So send her a text, tell her to meet you there around noon or something, and put her through her paces." Neptune poked Weiss in the cheek with his other hand. "Worst thing that happens, you'll be right about her, and I'll buy you several drinks." Neptune shot a cheeky grin.
Weiss set her empty glass on the bar. A moment later, Ozpin walked by and swiped it, and Neptune's shot glasses, away. Weiss swiveled on her barstool to face Neptune, giving Ozpin room to wipe down the bar. She watched Ozpin out the corner of her, tapping her cheek.
She loathed to admit it, but she had not been fair with Ruby. Weiss had noticed Ruby's speed, and Sun praising her ability was not something Weiss could ignore. No matter how much she wanted to.
Weiss closed her eyes. Every time father sent her a new hire, they turned out to be total shit. Some brat who came from a rich family, wanting to get their feet wet in her kitchen. Weiss lost count of how many culinary hopefuls she'd broken, and how many she had to be 'extra polite' so father wouldn't fuck with her more than usual. It sickened Weiss. She was sick of training casuals. Sick of wasted time. Wasted money. Product thrown away for the dumbest god damn mistakes.
Weiss remembered this one kid. Dave. He came in touting how good he was, he had five years experience, he was a master with the knife. Weiss put him on cutting onions and walked away for two seconds. When she came back, she saw him throwing away a whole quarter of an onion. Because it was 'too hard to cut when it got this small.' A whole fucking quarter of an onion! Needless to say, Weiss eviscerated the punk and tossed him on his ass not twenty minutes after father pushed him to her door.
Weiss frowned. Was Ruby the same? Or was Weiss letting her expectations get in the way of seeing Ruby's potential? It wasn't Ruby's fault Weiss hated her father. It wasn't Ruby's fault Weiss lost her best sous, her best friend.
Weiss sighed, opening her eyes. She stared into Neptune's dark blue. Her friend was decidedly amused. Weiss, was not. She pulled out her scroll and started typing a message.
Neptune leaned over to peek. "Who you talking to?"
Weiss kept typing. "I don't have Ruby's number, so I'm asking Sun if he can message her, tell her to meet me in the kitchen tomorrow at noon." She said, pressing send on her scroll. She set her scroll on the bar and propped her chin on her elbow.
Neptune nodded, a smug smirk blooming on his dumb, stupid face. "You're giving her a chance, huh?" He asked.
Weiss rolled her eyes. "Yes Neptune, I'm giving her a chance." She echoed. She caught Ozpin's eye.
Ozpin came over. "Another round?" Ozpin asked.
Weiss nodded. "Two shots of Vacuan Sandfire and. . ." Weiss jerked her head at Neptune. "A glass of water for my ass of a friend here."
"Weiss!" Neptune hissed. He leaned over, putting himself between Ozpin and Weiss. "She's kidding! She's kidding. I don't touch the stuff." Neptune said hurriedly.
Weiss smirked. "Fine." She said. "But he's not having any more mead. It makes him sentimental." She said.
Neptune pouted. "You're a mean drunk Weiss." He whined.
Weiss' scroll buzzed. Message sent and received. She'll be there! Sun. "At least drunk me gets shit done." She said, waving her scroll in Neptune's face.
Neptune eyed the screen. "So it would seem. . ." He mused, rubbing his chin.
Weiss smiled. Her shots of Sandfire were set in front of her. She grabbed one, and slid other over to Neptune, who immediately perked up. Neptune grabbed it. Weiss held her shot out. "To new beginnings and bright tomorrows." Weiss said, her words slurring.
Neptune held out his own shot. "To getting that impressively large stick out of your ass." Neptune clinked his glass with Weiss' and knocked back his shot.
Weiss scowled, sinking her Sandfire. The burn of coriander, cinnamon, and habanero filled her senses. She let out a slow breath, scanning the bar. The soda hose was just in front of her. . .
Weiss leaned over the bar, grabbed the soda hose, and pointed it at Neptune. She waited until he registered her action, then she pressed the water button. Her aim was true, the water soaking Neptune's hair and filling his slightly open mouth. He spluttered, waving his arms in front of him. His balance shifted, and he fell off his barstool. Weiss followed him with the stream of water, only stopping once he scurried out of range.
The rest of the bar howled with laughter. Neptune looked like a drowned rat. Neptune shook his head. "I'm drying off. And you can bet I'll get you back! One of these days!" He promised with a smile. Neptune went straight to the bathroom. Weiss felt a deep sense of satisfaction, handing the hose back to an unflappable Ozpin.
Ozpin set the hose in its holster. "Jaune!" He called. "Mop up the water please." Jaune nodded, going straight for the mop closet. Ozpin turned to Weiss. "I trust that was deserved." He said, a twinkle in his eye.
Weiss shrugged. "I like to think so." She said, stacking the two shot glasses on the bar. She smiled. "How long have you been running this bar Oz?" She asked.
Ozpin looked at the cane above the bar. "Twenty-two years now. But you know that already." He said quietly. "What are you really asking?"
Weiss sighed. She looked at the bar itself. The deep mahogany slab of polished wood that lined one side of the building. It paired so nicely with the wood of the stools, the chairs, the tables.
The pictures, the memories lining the walls, gave this place a sense of history. Of sentiment. There was Ozpin and Glynda the first day the Carousing Cane opened up. There was Ozpin laying on the pool table, clearly drunk and doing his best impression of 'draw me like one of your Mistral girls', Glynda tugging at his leg, a stern look in her eye.
The menu at each table. Seven entrees and four appetizers. A burger, some fried pickles, shoestring fries with garlic and cilantro, three in-house sauces. . . Simple, delicious food. Each crafted with love and care, each made to support the message that this, this place was a bar.
The message was concise, precise, and strong. Everything made at the direction and in support of Ozpin's dream. To run the best bar that he could. To run his bar.
Weiss sighed. "Nothing." She answered Ozpin. "Nothing at all."
~0~
Well! If you liked that, I can't wait for you to read the next chapter! Please leave a review if you are so inspired, and thank you so much for reading!
-Skull025