""Order one hundred and forty. One-forty, takeaway!"

Sarah stood at the counter of Jubilee Pizza, two extra-large pizzas in her hands. "One-forty!" she called over the din of the customers in the small dining room.

Friday nights were normally busy but tonight was unusually so. Between the expected customers, an unexpected birthday party, and a celebratory rugby team, the crew was scrambling to make sure everything was made properly and got out to the customers in a reasonable amount of time. The line was beginning to creep its way out the front door and frankly, Sarah didn't have time to wait for Mr. One-Forty (who had been a bit of prick while ordering, changing his order right as the pizzas went in the over. Who even did that?) With a poorly hidden sigh, the called to him once more and finally gave up, placing the pizzas in the warmer.

Drew, the grill cook, came up behind her with several phoned ahead takeaways. "Be a love and put these in the warmer, will you?" he said, thrusting them into her hands and racing back behind the grill.

In the other half of the kitchen, the manager Dafydd wiped sweat off his balding head as he stretched pizza dough, piling the empty shells next to Alice, who was painting them and tossing them in the oven as quickly as she could. Her black hair was frizzing out from where she had pinned it to her head, but she made no move to fix it as she built pizzas with mechanical efficiency. Alice rarely spoke, even when the atmosphere was more relaxed than it was tonight. Sarah had only started at Jubilee a month earlier, but she had her suspicions that Alice was actually a robot.

Meanwhile, Wesley was now at the register. Wesley the Weasel, she'd come to call him in her mind. In her few weeks there, Sarah had quickly come to dislike him. Arrogant and incompetent, he was the farthest thing from the manager Dafydd had hoped for when he had been transferred to their store. Sarah groaned inwardly as she watched him make change for a customer. No doubt her drawer would be short now. Always was when he touched it.

She grabbed a pizza cutter and began slicing some of the pizzas that now sat on the counter, waiting to be boxed and sent out into the world. She would never see the till again now that Wesley was there. It was away from the heat and away from any food prep, exactly how he liked to work.

Seven pizzas later, the phone rang. Seeing everyone else was busy, she set down the cutter and answered.

"Jubilee Pizza, how can I help you?"

"I'd like to place an order for delivery, please."

"Alright, what can we get you?"

"Make it two pepperoni feasts. And a tub of coleslaw. My boss says I don't eat enough vegetables."

Sarah laughed distractedly, eyeing the line of pizzas Ronald was pulling out of the oven. She got the man's address and finished the order, getting back to the oven in time to see Ronald stumble and drop the pizza he was pulling out of the oven. It landed face-down with a splat, spraying sauce everywhere.

Dafydd and Alice turned from their work. Ronald stood amidst the mess, wide-eyed and clutching his peeler. There was silence in the kitchen for a moment, then Dafydd threw his head back and laughed.

"I'm sorry," Ronald said finally, sounding much younger than his twenty years.

"Before you take your delivery, go get a mop and get that up before you slip again," Dafydd said, his voice kind. "Pizzas fall. It's a fact of life."

Sarah took the peeler as Ronald hurried out back. Still chuckling, Dafydd returned to his work. On the other side of the kitchen divider, Drew laughed too. Within his first two weeks at Jubilee he had not only dropped two pizzas, but had attempted and succeeded to catch a third that had fallen, resulting in second-degree burns down his arm. Now it was always nice to see it happen to someone who was not him.

Another ticket came through the printer and he tacked it to the end of his line. Usually he thrived on nights like this, when there was no time to think about anything beyond the work. However, tonight he couldn't help but think. He had resolved that tonight, finally, would be the night. After a year-plus of pining behind his grill, he was asking Annie out on a date. A combination of his own determination and Sarah's teenage girl persistence had settled it. Tonight before closing. He was doing it.

Even as he thought about it, Annie walked back into the store, dropping two empty delivery bags and picking up two more. He sighed, eyeing the row of tickets. Oh well, there was still plenty of time until closing.

The printer made the familiar grinding noise and he glanced at the newest arrival. Three large chicken tender orders with varying amounts of different sauces, a garden salad with everything removed, a seafood pocket which wasn't possible because seafood had been discontinued (He was going to kill whoever took this order), and four steak sandwiches with varying ingredients. "Have some fucking mercy," he muttered, pulling on a fresh pair of gloves.

The rush seemed to have died down about an hour later. Ronald and Annie moved steadily through deliveries, but the calls seemed to have tapered off a bit. Sarah and Dafydd stood by the delivery dispatch station with glasses of water as both drivers came in the door.

One delivery remained on the shelf. "I can take it if you'd like to take your dinner break," Ronald offered.

Annie picked up the ticket and read it. "Oh, it's to the Plas," she said. "I can take it."

"There's a shock," Dafydd said with friendly sarcasm. Annie flushed slightly and Ronald snickered.

"Go for it," he said, "Place gives me the willies anyway."

Annie laughed, picking up the bag of pizzas. "Do tell Ianto we all say hi," Dafydd teased and Annie flushed again.

"He's a good tipper is all," she said, shifting the bag.

"Oh, is that what they call it?"

Annie snorted. "He probably has a girlfriend anyway. I'll see you lot soon."

As the door closed behind her, Drew appeared with a tub of coleslaw. He'd been planning to start the conversation with her as he helped her get the order set, maybe make his move before she took that last delivery. Oh well, he thought again, the tourist center isn't far. She'll be back soon.

A half an hour later, business picked back up and Annie still hadn't returned. Ronald laughed as he took three delivery bags. She was off flirting again, wasn't she? More tips for him then. Forty minutes and Dafydd was calling her mobile, leaving the first of eight concerned voicemails. Two hours and Drew scrubbed his grill with a sinking heart. Two hours, ten minutes, and Ianto called to say his order had never arrived.