It was too early. Today was supposed to be Wheatley's one morning off, but due to a series of painfully unkind circumstances he found himself in the shop at the bright hour of half past four in the morning, lined up against the counter with the rest of his fellow employees, staring into the hard cold eyes of their manager. He hadn't gotten to sleep until after one in the morning, and with his commute and the unusually high necessity to take extra care with his morning hygiene, Wheatley had barely managed an hour and a half of sleep at all. Standing up straight and appearing attentive to his manager's words were a struggle enough, let alone getting through the events this day held.
Oh, how Wheatley missed his bed.
"Moron!" a sharp voice snapped, cutting through the sleep that still held Wheatley's attention.
"Yes manager!" he responded, standing noticeably taller and making his best effort to look her in the eyes. She hadn't been talking to him this whole time, had she?
"Repeat back to me what I just told you," the manger's words were like ice digging into his skin.
"Y-you said, um… well… Something about… No don't tell me, don't tell me! I'll have it in a moment! You told me to-to, um—"
"Run the register, just as you do here," the manager explained, her patience obviously wearing thin. "I would think that information would have made it through to you, considering that's what you do here every day, but I suppose I was wrong to expect so much brain power out of you."
Wheatley opened his mouth to argue but shut it immediately when he saw the look the manager gave him. Her intention was clear: speak and he would have to find another job.
"You, repeat back to me your job for today," the manager said, moving away from Wheatley to now face Rick who stood next to him.
"Sweet-talking the customers and getting them to buy as many goods as possible," Rick reported back, his voice far too smooth and collected for this hour of the day.
"And you?" the manager asked, moving on down the line to Leo, who had unfortunately been forced into this nightmare even though he was only a part-timer.
"Make all the coffee!" he cheered in such a bright manner that Wheatley questioned whether or not he had already drank all the coffee they had.
"You?" the manager continued on, facing their newest recruit, Alice.
"Make sure all the pastries stay warm and fresh in the great outdoors!" she responded with a salute, her optimism matching her twin's far too well.
The manager moved to face Craig, who answered her question before she even got the chance to ask.
"Watch carefully over Wheatley's shoulder to make sure he's counting the money correctly and doesn't lose anything," he said in his usual bored tone, a yawn threatening to escape him.
"Hey! I don't need someone to babysit me!" Wheatley argued, forgetting his manners in his tiredness. Not that he would have held back on such a remark on any other day, but today was a very serious day, and starting a fuss in front of the manager was never a smart choice to make.
It took only one stern glare from the manager to shut Wheatley up.
She moved on, facing Doug now. "Your job?"
"Helping with coffee and making sure it's presentable," Doug answered, fighting back a yawn of his own. It was obvious he hadn't gotten much more sleep than Wheatley, and was doing just as poor a job of hiding it.
Lastly, the manager stood before Virgil. "I trust you're aware of your responsibilities today," she stated, an expectant look in her eyes.
"Take orders and keep customers happy," Virgil said with confidence, not a trace of tiredness on his face. "I'm to give them a reason to want to choose us over the competition."
"Very good," the manager praised, her approval of Virgil's readiness was clear on her face.
"Um, Miss Manager?" Alice asked, raising her hand a little sheepishly. It was obvious the manager scared the poor girl, but not enough to keep her unyielding peppiness at bay.
"Yes?" the manager asked, sounding impatient.
"What exactly is happening today? I think I missed that bit…" Alice admitted sheepishly, looking down at her feet.
For a moment Wheatley thought the manager was going to snap, but instead she just let her head drop into her hands, exasperated.
"Today is the most important day of Aperture Café's existence," the manager explained. "Every year the city holds a bake sale for local charities and every year there is a reward for whichever business sells the most goods and raises the most money. There has not been a single year during our existence so far that Black Mesa Brewery has beaten us and I don't plan to let it ever happen. If we aren't on full alert and prepared for every possible scenario, we won't stay ahead. And failure is not an option."
Wheatley gulped. The stakes were higher than ever. Not only was their title and honor at stake, but also Black Mesa Brewery had recently gained popularity, despite it being an older company, and everyone knew this made the manager antsy. She couldn't stand the thought of the other coffeehouse getting ahead of them and if they didn't hold their title today in the bake sale life would be over for every single Aperture employee, because there was no way the manager would forgive them for failing.
"So what's the reward?" Alice asked, her stream of questions knowing no end.
"Dignity," the manager said with finality. "There is no greater reward than this."
"Don't worry about it, Miss," Rick said casually. "The Brewery's never beaten us before and sure as hell ain't gonna start now."
"I expect nothing less from all of you," the manager responded, and by the glow in her eyes Wheatley almost felt as if she meant it with sincerity.
Chell had never had a Saturday off before. Ever since moving into the city she had spent every day searching endlessly for jobs, and when she finally got one with the antique store she had worked almost nonstop in order to prove her value to the strict shop owner. Now that she had the current responsibility of watching over a cat, her boss softened ever so slightly enough to give her two days off from work each week in order to better take care of until it was safe to be returned to her owner. Chell had already spent most of the day before watching over the cat, playing with it incessantly as the cat seemed to have high needs of attention, so she decided to give herself the morning off to come the park downtown in order to see the event that was taking place.
It was a bake sale. Chell had thought she saw signs for it around town, but couldn't quite place where exactly she had seen them. The coffeehouse perhaps? Upon further inspection her assumptions were proven true; the deep blue aprons and slate grey circular logo on the front worn by the numerous workers around one of the many bake sale booths were hard for Chell to not recognize, considering the amount of time she spent in that very café.
Her curiosity piqued, Chell decided to approach for further inspection.
"Well I'll be, if isn't the fairest lady of them all," Rick called out to her as Chell approached the booth; his crooked grin worn proudly across his face. "And what can I do you for, miss Chell?"
Chell looked around the booth curiously, seeing their usual stock of pastries and treats spread out in an orderly display.
Something new caught her eye. She pointed to the large cake plate standing proudly in the center of their booth, the cake held inside covered in chocolate shavings and topped with cherries and whipped cream. She gave Rick a curious look. Chell had never seen a cake like that before in the shop.
"That, miss Chell, is our very special black forest cake," Rick explained. "Secret recipe known only by the manager herself. Even Virgil doesn't know how to make the thing. It's our signature item but we rarely have it in stock as it's not easy to get a hold of all of the needed ingredients, or at least that's what the managers says."
"And the manager is right you know," a familiar cold voice said from somewhere behind Rick.
"That she is, that she is," Rick said quickly, casually recovering his composure. "If that's what you're after, one slice'll be ten dollars."
Chell's eyes went wide. She might not have been from around this area, but she was pretty sure that was an overpriced slice of cake.
"Hey, don't give me that look. It's for charity," Rick pointed out.
"Not to mention the taste is worth the price," Virgil added, coming up beside Rick. "I do highly recommend."
Chell hesitated. She really couldn't afford something like that, and she wasn't sure cake was entirely worth it.
"Give me two slices then. One for me and one for her," came a chipper voice from behind Chell. When she turned around Chell broke out into a smile at the sight of the redheaded woman walking up to the booth.
"I was wondering when you were going to show up," Virgil scolded Mel, turning and snapping his fingers to the young blond girl behind the booth with them to cut their slices of cake.
"I would have come sooner but I didn't want to show up all smelly after my morning run," Mel argued, trying to hide the giggle that threatened to escape her.
"You could have bought a smoothie to cool down!" Leo called from where the coffee maker was set up, apparently working on a complicated order since Doug was looking over his shoulder the whole time to make sure he got it right.
"I didn't know you could make smoothies out here," Mel remarked.
"Don't underestimate us so easily, Mel," Virgil said, wagging his finger at her.
"Then I'll take a smoothie as well," Mel said with a smile. "Strawberry, if you please."
"Smoothie coming right up!" Leo said, beginning to run off for the ingredient but held back by Doug's firm grasp on his collar.
"Finish your current order first," Doug instructed him.
"But this is Mel's order!" Leo argued.
Doug gave the kid a stern look. Leo shrank back a little and continued on with his current order.
"So, how's that cat doing?" Rick asked, handing the two plates of cake to Mel and Chell once Alice finished cutting their slices.
At the mention of his cat Doug perked up, turning curiously to see Chell's response.
Chell gave Doug a smile and a nod, assuring him that everything was going well. Though the cat was far more demanding than she had expected, she enjoyed her company.
Doug was relieved to see this. "It shouldn't be much longer," he said quickly. "Another week at most?"
Chell shook her head, touching the thumb of her opened right hand against her chest a few times in the sign for 'it's fine'. She wasn't sure he actually understood any signing at all, but from the reassured look on his face it was clear her meaning got across.
"Try some of the cake," Mel said, nudging Chell's arm with her elbow slightly.
"Yes, do try the cake," the manager coaxed, stepping forward with interest. Her gaze made Chell feel uneasy, as if she were about to be graded based on her reaction to tasting the cake, and the punishment for a disappointing response would be catastrophic.
"You'll probably want these," Virgil added, holding out forks for the two of them.
Chell took the fork and stared down at her cake. It definitely looked appetizing, but something about it made her feel a little sick to her stomach. However, she decided to ignore those feelings and took a well-sized bite.
"Well?" Virgil asked, clearly anticipating her response.
Chell took a moment to savor the taste before nodding excitedly to them. She had never cared much for cake but decided she could make an exception here. It was one of the best foods she had ever tasted.
"Of course she likes it; I made it, after all," the manager stated, giving Chell a small approving look. It came across as somewhat forced, but Chell believed there was some sincerity behind it.
"Alright Mel, pay up," Virgil said, jerking his head in the direction of the register sitting at the end of the booth. Sitting down behind it was a half-asleep Wheatley, awkwardly resting his head against the register's casing while Craig stood over him, occasionally poking Wheatley's head with a pencil.
"Oi, wake up!" Virgil snapped, walking over to them and smacking Wheatley on the head with his notepad. Wheatley jerked upright, nearly knocking over the register in the process.
"I'm up, I'm up!" he exclaimed, startled. "I wasn't sleeping I was just… quietly observing."
"With your eyes closed?" Virgil questioned.
"I was listening for the enemy," Wheatley corrected. "You know how it goes. The ears work better when the eyes aren't in the way and all that. Clever, I know. No need to thank me."
"If I catch you sleeping on the job again you're not going to have eyes left to close at all," the manager threatened, the steely tone of her voice returning.
"U-understood, Miss!" Wheatley said quickly, attempting to straighten up even taller than he was already.
"You have customers to ring up," Virgil told him, stepping back to his own post.
"Chell, Mel, lovely to see you two today," Wheatley said, his eyes clearly lighting up at the sight of them. Chell almost felt that his eyes lingered on her a moment longer, but decided it was probably her imagination.
"Did you not get any sleep last night?" Mel asked, her voice sounding genuinely concerned.
"Oh who has time for sleeping when there's work to be done? Especially on such an important day as this," Wheatley explained, assuming a posture of mock confidence. Chell saw right through it, as did everyone else.
"Well, keep up the good work," Mel said, giving him a patient smile and handing him a twenty.
"Will the two of you hang around to see the winner?" Wheatley asked, a little hopeful.
"You bet I am!" Mel said enthusiastically. "What do you say, Chell?"
Chell shrugged her shoulders and nodded. She shouldn't stay out too long, the cat was likely getting very lonely, but it was a beautiful day and she hadn't gotten a chance to spend time outside in a while. A few hours couldn't hurt.
"Brilliant!" Wheatley cheered.
"But they're not staying here and distracting you any longer," the manager cautioned, giving Mel and Chell a harsh look.
"Oh Gladys, you don't have to be so uptight," Mel whined dramatically.
"You've already wasted five minutes of my subordinates' time," the manager said. "Actually no, make that six minutes now. That's one more minute of my valuable time we'll never get back, you know."
"I'm still waiting on my drink," Mel pointed out.
"It's done," Doug called from behind the booth holding it out for Rick to take and hand to Mel.
"Good, you have your beverage. Now get out of our way," the manager ordered.
Mel sighed. "Yes, your Majesty. Come on, Chell, let's take a walk." She linked her free hand with Chell's and began to pull her along. Chell offered them a final smile of good luck and followed after Mel.
Wheatley waved goodbye to them as they walked away. There were still three hours left until the bake sale officially ended. Noon couldn't come any sooner…
"See? There was nothing to worry about!"
"I wasn't worried," the manager snapped, giving Virgil an offended look that didn't quite meet the satisfaction in her eyes.
"You were a little worried," Virgil said, trying to hide a smile.
"Black Mesa Brewery is a pathetic excuse for a coffeehouse; I had no worries about them outdoing us today," the manager argued.
"Poor suckers never stood a chance," Rick said. "They weren't even close to making as much as we raked in today."
"That's because they don't have a leader as fearless and resourceful as ours," Craig added, beaming up at the manager.
"Or as terrifying…" Wheatley added in a softer voice, hoping the manager wouldn't hear him.
"A job well done to you all," the manager announced, addressing them all now just outside of their packed-up booth and holding up their winner ribbon proudly. "But just because we've achieved another successful year doesn't meant you are allowed any chance to relax. Relaxation leads to slacking off, and slacking off means no more jobs, so don't slack off."
"Yes manager," they all said in haphazard unison.
"Now get these boxes to the car. And if I find any scratches or dings to the car, boxes, or contents inside, the cost of repairs will be taken out of your salary," she commanded, every employee stepping into action at the snap of her fingers.
While the others preoccupied themselves with carrying their goods back to the company vehicle Virgil stopped to watch the others work, stepping to the side with the manager.
"Admit it; you're proud of them," he hummed quietly.
"I'll admit no such thing," the manager said in an even tone.
"Not even to me?" Virgil asked.
"Everything said to you magically ends up in Mel's ears and everything said to her is shared with everyone in her proximity, so no, not even to you," the manager confirmed.
Virgil sighed. "That's alright. You don't have to admit anything to me. I already know what you're thinking, anyways."
The manager huffed at this.
There was a moment of shared silence as the two of them watched the others run about and putting things away.
"Shouldn't you be making sure that moron doesn't break any of my equipment?" the manager eventually commented.
Virgil laughed. "Whatever you say, Miss." He began walking toward the others to join in but stopped first to turn back to the manager.
"Well done, Manager. You've earned it."
Virgil didn't see the faint smile that spread across the manager's face when he turned around to leave her alone. He didn't need to see it to know it was there.