Beep! Beep! Beep!

Lara groaned. Not yet.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

She was still so tired. Not yet.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Damnit. Sam was going to be angry if she let it go any longer. Lara fumbled for her phone on her nightstand and turned the alarm off, but the damage was already done by the time she had silenced the noise. Sam whined in protest as Lara sat up in bed.

"Nooo…" Sam moaned.

"Good morning. I'm sorry I woke you up." Lara stretched her arms out over her head.

"I'll forget about it if you skip class," Sam jibed, balling her hands into fists and rubbing them into her eyes.

"Is that so?" Lara asked, looking back at Sam with an amused smirk.

"Yes. Trade offer: you get forgiveness. I get cuddles," Sam laced her fingers behind her head as she spoke. Lara let out a soft laugh.

"Well as tempting as that offer is, you know I can't just cut class."

"Then can I at least get five more minutes?" Sam asked. Lara took a second to consider her. Five minutes wouldn't hurt her ability to get to class on time.

"I'll give you ten, how about that?"

"Deal," Sam said with a grin. Lara laid back down beside Sam and patted her shoulder to indicate that Sam should rest her head there. Sam obliged, and Lara wrapped an arm around her. "Do you work tonight?" Sam continued, resting a hand on Lara's collarbone.

"Yes, unfortunately."

"How late?"

"Closing."

"Jesus."

"I know, I'm sorry," Lara said as one of the corners of her lips turned downward in a sympathetic half-frown. She knew why Sam was asking: they hadn't gone on a proper date yet. As things were, however, Lara wasn't sure if she could afford her rent after her bout with the flu, let alone taking Sam out. For one thing, she hadn't worked for over a week because she was so sick. It took her five days to be able to choke down broth and crackers, for instance. For another, she wasn't only not making money while she was sick, but she also spent quite a bit on medicine.

It was embarrassing to her that she was in such a precarious position. She normally had a nice layer of padding in her savings account. But how was she supposed to predict dislocating her shoulder and being slammed with a large bill? How was she supposed to predict getting sick right after moving? Nevermind the fact that she just had to pay her tuition and a deposit on hers and Sam's flat. She supposed that that was the reason why she had the savings: for emergencies. Still, paying her rent for next month was too close for her comfort, so she'd picked up extra hours at the Nine Bells to make up for lost time.

"Well, when do you have a day off next?" Sam pressed further. Lara winced internally before delivering her response.

"Not until Sunday."

"Jesus!" Sam blurted out, lifting her head to look at Lara.

"Don't hate me, please," Lara pleaded.

"I'm not mad at you, I just think that's incredibly unhealthy. Why did he schedule you so much this week?"

"I…am the one who scheduled myself like this."

"What?"

"I really need the money, Sam," Lara said. Sam stared back at her and considered her for a moment.

"You really haven't been able to catch a break, huh?"

"Not at all," Lara replied.

"And even if I offered you money, you probably wouldn't accept that I'm guessing?"

"Nope," Lara answered honestly. Sam sighed.

"Well, I guess I can be patient and wait for you."

"You guess?"

"As long as I can get a bit of your time when you can spare it."

"That shouldn't even be a question."

"So date night?"

"Of course, Sam. I just need to catch up with myself is all." Lara checked the time on her phone: quarter to seven. She really needed to start getting ready. "I'm so sorry, I have to get ready now."

"Okay, have a good day," Sam replied. Lara pecked her on the lips and got out of bed to begin getting ready. It took her all of ten minutes to throw some clothes on, brush her teeth, grab her bags–which were already packed–and get herself out the door. When she emerged onto the already-lively streets of Barking, she was bombarded with a macrocosm of noise. Angry drivers honked and swore at each other, people called out to greet one another, and a jackhammer rattled from down the road, where the latest development in Barking's initiative for affordable housing was unfolding. Lara began to walk to Barking Station to catch a train to Islington, where UCL was located.

As she walked, shrugging her coat on more tightly to defend against the January cold, her thoughts drifted back to Sam. Sam had been such a good nurse when she had the flu, and how was she repaying the kindness? By neglecting her? Lara had to count her lucky stars that Sam was so patient and understanding otherwise their relationship would already be in jeopardy. Of course, would she have been interested in Sam if she wasn't such an understanding person? Probably not. Why was she even having such weird thoughts? She was fixating on hypotheticals that didn't exist, what was the point?

Still, she'd have to make it all up to Sam at some point. Lara nodded to herself as she walked into Barking Station. She scanned her Travelcard to allow herself through the dividers that barred entry to the station and made her way to her train, which was set to depart in a few minutes. She got to the platform just as the train arrived and wormed her way through the crowd and into the car directly in front of her.

Having successfully stowed away on the train, she contented herself with observing the people around her while the train began to move. Her eyes rested on a man and a woman sitting together holding hands and she thought about Sam once more. She wondered if Sam was the kind of person to like public displays of affection. Then, she wondered if she herself would be okay with those. After all, holding Sam's hand would effectively be a confession that she was gay. Was she ready for that kind of attention? When would she be ready if she wasn't? After all, Sam was a wonderful human being who deserved to be shown off with pride.

Still, Lara wasn't sure if she was ready for the gay rights activists.

Lara was already exhausted by the time she finished her classes and got out of gymnastics practice. It was only her second practice since before she went to New York with Sam. It was also the second time she'd engaged in any meaningful physical activity since the day she first dislocated her shoulder, and her entire body was screaming in protest of its exertion.

And to think, she had nine hours of work to go until she could rest.

How the hell am I supposed to survive a whole week of this? Lara wondered to herself. She swore that if she could just survive, she'd take Sam to dinner by the Thames, gay rights activists be damned.

"Alright, Lara?" Paige asked from a couple of lockers over.

"Tired," Lara grunted.

"I can imagine," Paige nodded, "it's been a while for you. Shoulder hold up okay today?"

"Didn't bother me at all, honestly," Lara replied, pulling her work shirt over her head and putting on her coat.

"Good, we need you in top condition for championships. How'd you mess it up, anyhow?" Paige asked as Lara retrieved her bags from her locker and shut it.

"Well…" Lara began as she slung her knapsack onto her back and picked up her gymnastics bag, "as it turns out, I'm a shit ice skater."

"That right?" Paige asked, following Lara out of the locker room.

"And when I finally figured out how to move in the sodding skates, I realized I didn't know how to stop." Lara led the way out of the building.

"You know, Lara, you're an incredible gymnast but a remarkable klutz."

"So I've been told by my…" What did Lara refer to Sam as? Her best friend? Her girlfriend? Her roommate? She cleared her throat. "Sorry, yeah Sam tells me that a lot."

"How's she been anyways?"

"She's been good, we actually got a flat together in Barking."

"Yeah? Barking's lovely. Where you headed to now?"

"Work," Lara grimaced.

"Busy woman," Paige remarked, "well, I'll see you around, then." They exchanged waves of farewell before parting ways. A brief walk later, Lara arrived at the Nine Bells.

"Alright, Lara?" Wilson asked when she entered the building.

"Doing well, Wilson, thanks," Lara replied as she strode over to the server's station to hang her coat up. She wondered why everyone kept asking her that question.

"Ready for the long week?" Wilson inquired.

"Not at all," Lara replied with a wry smirk.

"No one ever is. Anyways, don't ask me why on a Tuesday, but there's a pub crawl happening. Charity event or something. We're going to get busy."

"Lovely," Lara remarked, "I suppose you want me to make sure the bar is fully stocked?"

"If you don't mind," Wilson said, "our new cook called out again so I have to help in the kitchen." Lara blinked blankly at him.

"So who's on bar with me?"

"Working on that."

"Lovely," Lara reiterated in a sardonic tone. She hung her coat up and deposited her bags in a corner before making her way to the bar to peer into the coolers. Once she had gathered a list of beers to stock up on, she made her way down to the basement to retrieve what she needed from the walk-in. She needed only to take one trip; one of her special talents was being able to carry a six-pack on each finger. Once the bar coolers were stocked, she checked all of the liquor bottles, made sure everything was clean, and otherwise went through her usual pre-work motions.

Then, half an hour later, all hell broke loose.

"Can you make me something strong?" Lara's first patron of the day asked her.

"Okay…why don't we start with the kind of liquor you want as a base for your drink?"

"Gin. Make it special," the patron said. Lara resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She felt like she knew exactly what kind of customer the man was. Nonetheless, she did her best to oblige, mixing him a gin sour and handing it to him across the bar. The man took a sip and frowned. "This is gin." Lara raised a skeptical brow at the patron.

"Yes, that's what you asked for."

"No, I asked for vodka," the patron said.

"I'm very certain you asked for gin, sir." Lara crossed her arms over her chest.

"No, I want vodka," the patron insisted. Lara had to suppress a sigh. It wasn't worth her time to argue with a customer when she had other people to serve all on her own.

"Alright, let me just make you a new one." Lara fixed the man a new drink, this time a moscow mule. He took a sip and frowned again.

"This doesn't taste right." Lara wanted to scream. She knew she was good at mixing drinks. The Americans always tipped her specifically for how proper she made their drinks.

"I can make you another one, but I'm going to have to take these other two drinks from you if you want me to do so," Lara said. She knew the man was simply trying to hustle her for free drinks. It happened all the time in the bar industry, especially in a divey bar like the Nine Bells. The patron stared at her.

"Gormless ginch!" he spat before walking away from the bar with both drinks without paying.

"Oy!" Lara called after him. She wanted to chase after him, but there were already five other patrons waiting to be served. She let out an exasperated sigh. This was not how her shift was supposed to go. She was supposed to just make vodka sodas, pour shots, and serve chips. Her shift was supposed to be long, yes, but also easy. With one final glance into the crowd in which the cocktail thief disappeared, Lara turned her attention to the patrons who needed alcohol. Their ranks had already begun to thicken.

Try as she did to wage war against thirst, she just couldn't conquer the pub crawl. The moment one customer finished getting served, two more popped up to take his place. There was no end in sight for Lara. The final straw for Lara wasn't the neverending onslaught of customers, however. The final straw for her came in the form of a skateboard flying across the bar.

Who even does something like that?

Lara had finally had it. She strode over to the skateboard with purpose before it could be reclaimed by its owner and retrieved it. Then, she walked over to the entrance and tossed it outside.

"Hey! That's mine!" an angry voice from behind her growled. Lara whipped around to face its source. He was older than her, probably a fourth-year student if she had to guess.

"Yeah? Go get it, then, and get the fuck out of my bar, you git!"

"And why should I listen to a daft bint like you?" The young man drew himself up to full height and puffed his chest out in a vain attempt to look strong and superior. Lara looked him in the eye and burst out into laughter. This only served to aggravate the customer who visibly bristled at the offense. He made a swipe at Lara and that was his last mistake. Lara saw the hand approaching her in slow motion, and planned out her next set of actions before executing. Stepping to the side, she grabbed a firm hold on his wrist and twisted his arm behind his back in a single quick motion. The young man let out a sharp yelp.

"You call me a bint, but who's the one screaming like his balls haven't dropped?" Lara demanded coolly before shoving him out of the front door. "When I tell you to get the fuck out of my bar, you get the fuck out of my bar!" The man tried to walk back into the door, and Lara braced herself for more manhandling, but then his fellow patrons stepped in to address the situation.

"Go on back to your post, lass. We'll handle this tosser," an elderly gentleman instructed her. Lara blinked at him. She was perfectly capable of handling unruly patrons on her own, she'd done so in the past. She didn't argue, however, because there were still more people to serve at the bar. She hurried back to her post and began to wage war on thirst anew. The patrons, having noted that she was the only barmaid, smartly ordered multiple drinks at a time to limit the load on her and the wait time for them. When the crowd began to finally thin out for the time being while the patrons chatted amongst themselves, a red-haired gentleman approached her.

"Excuse me miss?" Red Hair inquired.

"Yes?" Lara replied, if somewhat unenthusiastically.

"Take a shot with me? You look like you need it after dealing with these gits," Red Hair said. Lara figured he was going to try to flirt with her the moment she took the shot, but if she was being honest, she really needed a drink after everything she'd already dealt with.

"Why not?" Lara replied with a shrug and a small smile, "What do you want?"

"Do a double Jame-O for both of us," Red Hair replied. Lara happily obliged. After all, Jameson is her go-to liquor, though she preferred Jameson Crested. Once the shots were dealt out, they both tapped their glasses on the bar top and took their shots in one go. Then, Lara cleared their glasses. "So what makes such a lovely lass want to work in a place like this?" There it was. He was trying to start a conversation to segue into asking her out. Lara was willing to bet her relationship on it.

"It pays the bills," Lara stated simply.

"That right?"

"Americans."

"Ah." Red hair paused before finally going for it. "You got a boyfriend?" Lara took a moment to consider her next words carefully.

"I'm seeing someone, yes."

"He take care of you?"

"They're lovely, yes. I'm very fond of them."

"I suppose that's all that matters, then. I hope your shift gets better."

It took two more double shots, a vomit clean-up, and a seemingly endless amount of table-wiping and floor-mopping until Lara was finally out of work for the night. When it was all said and done, she hadn't received a single tip from the charitable pub crawl crew. That didn't surprise her, however, since she was the only person on the bar and the service was shoddy as a result. Still, it was unfortunate that she made as much in a nine-hour shift as she normally did in a four-hour shift for all the effort she had to put in.

By the time she finally got on the train back home, it was two in the morning and she had a longer commute than usual because she had to take the Night Tube back home. All she really wanted at that point was Sam. It had been an awful evening.

She finally got back to her flat at three-thirty in the morning. She figured that there was no possible way that Sam could still be awake, but the soft sounds of the TV coming from behind the door as she unlocked it told her otherwise. Sam turned to look at her as she entered the common area.

"Hey, how was-?" Sam began before Lara cut her off by striding over to the couch and collapsing onto it beside Sam. She wrapped an arm around Sam and buried her face into Sam's side. Vanilla and amber–such a soothing scent combination. "Wow, I'm guessing it was pretty rough, then."

"It was awful," Lara groaned, her voice muffled by Sam's flesh.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"Well," Lara began, removing her face from Sam's side to speak more clearly, "it all started with this one git trying to hustle me for free drinks. He called me a gormless ginch."

"Bonus points for alliteration," Sam remarked.

"Gormless Ginch is not a flattering nickname, Sam."

"I know, I was just trying to lighten the mood."

"Then this other git was skateboarding in the bar. Did I mention this was all happening in the middle of a pub crawl?"

"Jesus Christ."

"Yeah. And I'll admit, I was already irritated after being called a gormless ginch so I threw the git's board out of the door and wound up having to throw him out too. Oh, then this guy bought me a drink because he felt bad and asked me if I had a boyfriend-"

"What'd you say?" Sam interjected. Lara paused.

"I said that I'm seeing someone."

"I see," Sam said, "and how'd he react?"

"He left me alone."

"I see," Sam repeated.

"Something wrong?" Lara asked.

"No," Sam answered, "I'm sorry you had a shitty night, though. That sounds like it was a handful."

"I'm just happy I get to sleep in tomorrow…"

"Today."

"Huh?"

"It's technically already tomorrow," Sam pointed out. Lara groaned out her anguish at the realization and buried her face back into Sam's side.

"Just smite me from existence now," Lara continued to groan. Sam laughed and kissed the top of Lara's head.

"Sorry, sweetie, not gonna let that happen." Lara wondered if 'sweetie' was becoming her pet name. She liked it. She liked it simply because it was Sam's name for her. "What time is your first class tomorrow?" Sam continued.

"Eleven."

"You should probably sleep, then."

"Would that be alright with you?" Lara lifted her head back up to look at Sam as she spoke.

"I care more about your health than your company right now."

"Even so, I know I've been busy-"

"Yeah, for good reason. You know why I'm not mad about it?"

"Hm?"

"Because you're considerate of my feelings. Focus on what you gotta do, I'll be fine. I gotta start working soon anyways."

"Have you found a job yet?" Lara asked.

"No, but I have a guitar."

"I don't get it."

"You will. Go to bed, Gormless Ginch."

"Ugh." Lara rolled her eyes. Sam laughed. "Good night, Sam."

"Good night, sweetie," Sam replied. Exhausted, Lara heaved herself up and went to bed. When she crawled under the sheets of the empty bed, she found that she already missed Sam's warmth.

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