HAPPY NEW YEAR! I'm back with one of the Supes stories I promised!
This is sort of AU. and if any of you have read Kiss It Better, you would already be familiar with Eve. If not, you don't have to read that to understand this. This keeps that same characters but takes place in a completely different world than Kiss It Better. I plan that this story will have a happier and perhaps lighter ending than the first, and I'm making my struggle with writing somewhat humor for the first time so please excuse it if it's terrible.
This takes place, for now, in the beginning of MoS when Clark was working on a boat, so it's in that small town it showed in the beginning of the movie. This first chapter is some time before the oil rig fire. The town name and everything in it is from my own imagination.
[Disclaimer: I'm only typing this once. I do not own anything associating with DC Comics, Louisiana or anything recognizable in here. I'm just a poor, budding college student writing this for nonprofit entertainment.]
Ruby's Diner was nothing special. It was just like any other small dinner along the southeastern coast.
The floors were the same wooden planks from the day the small building was first built; the age of the restaurant blended in perfectly with the small town. Arcadia, despite having a relatively new remodeling, still reclaimed that older, homey feel, seeming frozen in time as the rest of the world sped on by. It seemed to linger most at the Diner, which is probably why it continued gaining good business after all these years.
Lynn stood on tiptoe to unscrew the lightbulb that had blown the night before after another bar brawl. The blonde was one of the few waitress employed here; in this day and age, jobs—at least those that are well-paying—were hard to come by.
The chimes rang as the door opened. Lynn nodded to the elderly couple walking in, and she along with two other waitresses, returned their sweet smiles.
"Hey!" Lynn called, her attention turned. Her call was directed to Brandi, one of the new girls hired for the diner. Though she's been working for almost a full year to this point, she was still nicknamed as a newbie.
The blonde pointed to the antique-style clock high on the wall above the counter. "It's almost two. Kitchen duty!"
Brandi sighed. She couldn't argue with her boss. Lynn had been gracious enough to squeeze her in with everyone else's schedules already, so there was no room for complaining.
Brandi tied her dark braids up as she walked to the kitchen.
Lynn Frankenshire was given the diner/bar as a hand-me-down that was going on its 54th birthday. It was a family business, one she was reluctant to accept at first but gave in after she wasn't accepted into that university. Standing at almost 5-foot-eight, approaching mid-thirties and exceptionally beautiful, one would have not have known she owned the place until she opened her mouth. She was proud of it, too. And she was not one to recon with—Lynn could stand toe-to-toe with many of the men who came in wanting to start trouble.
Yes, she could be brash sometimes but she wouldn't turn one away from a job they so desperately needed. Which is how several of the men and women working under her came to be employed at Ruby's Diner.
The clock signaled two o'clock in the evening and almost as if on cue, the sound of a boat's bell sounded outside.
Lynn glanced out the window and saw two large crab boats dock in the harbor. She wiped her hands on the towel and thru it in the dirty hamper with the rest of the dirty laundry, huffing out a breath to ready herself. They had just opened about five hours ago and where about to get a full house.
Once the fishermen came in, the place was busy for the rest of the day. And who were also responsible for half of the earnings.
Lynn called for those who were not preparing food to remind them to be on their "P's and Q's," as she put it. The diner had just reopened after a five year hiatus and was well known for their hospitality and amazing Louisiana food, and Lynn wanted to uphold that status.
Minutes later, the door swung open with the sound of heavy boots stomping the floor and men talking filled the once-quiet diner.
Lynn smiled in greeting, then turned to holler at them to wipe their feet, seeing mud and seawater being tracked all over her clean floor. Many of the men who hadn't came inside yet rolled their eyes or scoffed at her. A few stopped to wipe their boots outside respectively.
Monica was the first one out taking orders. Many of the men smiled at her and not only out of respect. She was very pretty—Lynn's younger cousin, to be exact—and she quite knew of it.
Monica was back in a matter of minutes passing out tall mugs of beer and water.
By now, other workers had come out, tending to the sudden rush of fishermen and other customers.
Monica peeked her head past the EMPLOYEES ONLY door. "Hey, Eve," she called to the woman with thick dark brown hair. She looked up from sticking menus under her arm to carry out to the tables. "Can you get some of these tables for me? It's going to take me a little longer to get to them with these drinks."
Eve told her she would after she placed the menus on empty tables.
Monica was a pale woman with thick dark hair to mid-back and bright hazel eyes. She, along with a nephew, were the other relatives of Lynn that were employed here.
Eve took the pencil from her mouth after promptly putting her hair up, walking to a random table. Pad already in hand, she greeted the fishermen politely. After all, they were responsible for the fresh catches of the day.
"Have you gentlemen been helped yet?"
One of the men shoved the one to his right with an elbow. The man was older; the one who sneered from the elbowing looked a lot younger, probably a new member she thought.
"Not all of them are gentlemen," the older man joked, his eyes wrinkling from age and experience.
The frown on the younger deepened.
"But no, we haven't, Miss Eve," the older man smiled sweetly.
The fishermen were such frequent customers, them and the servers were almost comfortable to first-name-bases. But there was still the fine line between profession and acquaintanceship, which some men tended to ignore.
Eve returned the smile genuinely, readying her notepad. "The usual, Mac?"
That earned several sounds of agreement. Eve giggled.
She then turned to the drenched man who had remained moderately silent, stirring his straw around in his glass of water.
Eve set a hand to her hip. "And Mister Greenhorne, we meet again...?" She ignored the eye rolls and raised brows.
Greenhorne tried to hide the small smile that tugged at his lips, obviously not wanting to give the other men something to pick on him for. He gave a polite "hello, Miss Lancaster" nonetheless. He was a quiet one, always keeping to himself, which is why Eve drew his attention to her on purpose in good nature.
"And you—you'd like the norm as well?" she asked, tapping her pencil, not even trying to hide the sly smile on her face.
He had taken a drink from the glass while she spoke. He wiped his mouth before answering, "actually...surprise me."
Eve's head remained tilted to her notepad, and upon his answer, her eyes shot up to him from over the bridge of her nose. For such a mild-mannered man, he showed no shame in that cocky grin.
Eve suppressed the tug at her lips and cleared her throat instead. "Will that be all?" she asked the rest of the table.
The older man, Mac, answered. The others just nodded. Greenhorne downed the rest of his water without another word. Eve rolled her eyes in good manner as she turned to the kitchen. Monica waited until she was safely hidden past the EMPLOYEES ONLY door before following her inside.
She bumped hips with Eve almost as soon as she entered the back room, and didn't even try masking the cat-calls and other teasing suggesting sounds. Eve just rolled her eyes.
"You were totally flirting," Monica smiled like the Cheshire cat, sounding much like a high school girl. "Don't act like you weren't!"
Eve wasn't, though she'd never say. It would surely insist Monica to press the matter more.
"Just because you know someone doesn't mean you flirt whenever you see then," Eve insisted instead.
"Yeah, riiiight," Monica rolled her eyes.
Eve sucked her teeth. "Besides," she ignored Monica's playful mocking, "beard's aren't my thing." She commented on how Henri Greenhorne's bushy face reminded her more of a teddy bear.
All was smooth at the Diner, smiles and laughter filled the place and there wasn't a brawl for the next several weeks. In the small town of Arcadia, Louisiana, it seemed nothing could go wrong but the fair amount of rain for the springtime. Little did they know that was all going to change.
Note: Remember in MoS in the beginning on that ship? He was called Greenhorne by the crew members on the ship in the movie. His first name (Henri) is by my own doing. And the comparison, I know *evil smile*